Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was a truth Utahime Iori had long since accepted. Being from an ancient and influential clan meant the possibility of a marriage selected for her no matter how archaic the idea was nowadays. All eligible single girls from other clans were called upon to gather before the family seeking a match. Reasons could be political, financial, or simply another clan’s male heir is struggling to find a match. She suspected that the reason for this summoning was the last one. 

It wasn’t that Satoru Gojo couldn’t find a match on his own if he wanted to, it was that he didn’t want to follow any traditions. His lack of effort forced his clan to make a selection for him now that he was of age. Looking around the room at the other girls, all dressed in their nicest attires, Utahime pitied the one who would be chosen. She knew it wasn’t going to be her. She had made it clear to Gojo that she wasn’t to be picked no matter how amusing he thought it would be.

The Iori and Gojo clans had close ties which meant Utahime had the misfortune of already being acquainted with Satoru Gojo. During meetings, parties, or any get-together, Utahime’s parents insisted on her trying to befriend Gojo. He would tease her, pull on her pigtails, mock her, and occasionally get both of them in trouble with his antics. Utahime couldn’t stand him and she knew he had less than favorable opinions about her too. He made it no secret that he thought she was bossy, too much of a rule follower, and a little hysterical at times. 

Though, if it wasn’t for Utahime, she was sure he wouldn’t have any friends at all. She met Shoko Ieiri first and with Shoko came Suguru Geto. Gojo, her ever-present infuriating shadow, met those two through her. Those three spent so much time together that it was hard for Utahime to not feel bitter about it. It was like she was an outsider even though she was the whole reason the group formed in the first place. And it was just like Gojo to do such a thing. He had stolen her toys when they were little and then he stole her friends when they were older. The fact that she was older than the three of them and therefore didn’t share any classes only added to the alienation.

Utahime’s animosity towards Gojo was no secret to Shoko and Geto. Though they insisted that Utahime was putting on an act and she didn’t detest him as much as she said she did. Gojo was delighted to hear that’s what his friends thought, which then spurred on a new form of teasing from him. 

“ Utahimes likes me!”

She hated him but she didn’t. She couldn’t stand him but noticed his absence when he wasn’t there. She wouldn’t be caught dead saying anything nice about him but privately she acknowledged on occasion that he was a little funny, smart, and attractive with the right lighting. 

Utahime was less than honest about that last point but that was something she would bury away anyway. 

Their two friends knew this event was happening and that Utahime would be in attendance. Gojo never kept it a secret that his family was going to force him to marry. Typically in the days beforehand, a booklet was put together for the would-be groom to look over with his family to help make the decision. It was a private document, only meant to be seen by the family making the choice. Gojo had brought it to school one day so he and Geto could look through it but Shoko snatched it from them. His family should’ve known better than to leave important information in the hands of Gojo.  

She parsed through the pages with the same mundane interest as if it were a fashion magazine. Utahime tensed as Shoko flipped to the next page. She knew her photo and description was included in the book. It was customary, she didn’t have anything to worry about. Still, there was something about revealing to her closest friend that arranged marriage was on the table for her through a carefully cultivated list that left her feeling tense. 

Shoko paused and Utahime knew she reached the page. The picture was one of Utahime’s favorites. All the girls were unsmiling in their pictures, directed to submit a photo with a neutral expression. And while Utahime followed the instructions, her dark brown eyes were expressive as always. A tinge of a challenge was shown through them that seemed to dare the viewer to try and judge her. Her silky hair came to rest in waves across her prominent collarbones. A prominent scar scrawled across her face from an accident a few years prior. 

Utahime thought she was very pretty in the picture but even better, she thought she looked unagreeable. Gojo’s family would be looking for a woman who was demure and soft. Not one whose stubbornness radiated from a flat image even still. 

“ This is you ,” Shoko stated, flipping the book over to display it to the rest of the group. 

“ Out of my hands ,” Utahime replied in an attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible. This proved to be difficult when she could feel Gojo’s intense gaze on the side of her face. 

Geto chuckled and tried to lighten the mood even though he sounded uncomfortable. “ You didn’t have to go to such lengths to get Gojo’s attention .” Gojo shoved him from under the table. For once, he didn’t have anything smart to say. 

“ I won’t be picked .” Utahime turned her eyes to Gojo to emphasize to him that he was not going to choose her. “ It’s just clan duties .”

Utahime was in attendance for appearance reasons only. To maintain the good working relationship between the two clans. Even though his family was heavily involved in the selection, Gojo did have some say in who was chosen. She was able to relax knowing there was no way that he would ever choose her. The scar on her face made it so it was unlikely that his family would choose her too. Someone else would be sentenced to be his wife and Utahime would be free of him altogether. He’d be too busy with his new wife and there would be no expectations for Utahime to try to earn the grace of a married man.

She overheard some of the other girls whisper about how handsome he was when they all gathered in the garden. The start of spring made its appearance with some of the flowers beginning to bloom. Utahime had the urge to turn to the other girls and tell them Gojo was awful and his good looks didn’t make up for his bad personality. But she left it alone, hoping for their sake they wouldn’t find out firsthand. 

The chatter died out when members of the Gojo clan, including Gojo himself, stepped out into the garden. Anticipation could be felt through the air. Each of the other girls watched the family earnestly. Utahime wanted this to be over soon so she could go home. She tried not to look directly at Gojo but she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him only to find he was already looking at her. A sinking feeling formed in her stomach. 

“Utahime Iori.”

It felt like time stopped at that moment. The blood rushed from her face and her stomach churned. She could feel the eyes of everyone there on her and it made her feel sick. How bad would it be if she vomited on the grass right now? Would that be enough to dismiss her? Utahime swallowed and stepped forward. Her feet felt like lead.

She stopped in front of Gojo and the head of his clan began to speak but Utahime couldn’t comprehend any of it. It was like her head was underwater and the words were muffled. She could only stare at Gojo’s face in shock. His lips upturned in a smirk, his bright blue eyes glinting. He knew how much this would irritate her. How foolish of her to assume that Gojo would take this seriously and not use it as another opportunity to make her miserable. 

The crowd melted away as her brain stuttered back to life, immediately thinking of how she could get out of this without offending the family. The rest of the clan left them too, so that the newly engaged couple could get to know each other. To Utahime, this was a laughable gesture. They knew each other too well, at this point. 

Gojo reached out and brushed the ribbon that tied her hair back. Utahime let him even though she had the overwhelming desire to slap his hand away. Every one of her actions had consequences in this delicate situation. She couldn’t be seen doing anything towards Gojo that could be perceived as hostile. 

“This is new,” he said while touching her ribbon. As if the circumstances of their meeting were ordinary and not the life-altering situation that it was. 

“Do you think this is funny?” Utahime hissed. 

“Not at all,” he said but the grin on his face was unconvincing. He looked over his shoulder before placing a hand on her lower back and leading her deeper into the gardens, away from prying eyes. “They picked someone else actually.”

“Then why am I here?” His hand was still on her lower back and Utahime was trying not to think about it. 

“I told them I wanted you. I’m so desperately in love with that obnoxious know-it-all from the Iori clan, blah, blah, blah. They bought it and here we are. I figured I already knew what I was getting into with you rather than take a chance on someone new.” 

Utahime flushed at his words. “We are not getting married.”

“I’m afraid we are,” he replied with an exaggerated sigh. “At the end of the school year.”

Utahime stopped in front of a camellia bush full of pink flowers in bloom. The last time it would be in season until autumn. “I will find a way out of it.”

“Good luck,” Gojo scoffed, stopping with her. “It could be worse for you, your clan could make you marry someone twice your age. Or Zenin is looking too, last I heard.”

He was right and Utahime hated it. Despite being so unpleasant towards her, Gojo was the most desirable single male among the clans. Naoya Zenin was also available and Utahime would rather eat nails than spend a moment with him. Fate was cruel if Gojo was Utahime’s best option and she knew her family already resented her scar and would take the easiest route that presented itself. 

“Then we’ll get divorced,” she said. 

“We can surely try,” Gojo remarked with a teasing tone and Utahime knew he wasn’t taking her claims seriously at all. 

_____

Jujutsu Tech was a highly prestigious college. Despite her clan connections, Utahime still had to work hard to get accepted. She took a lot of pride in her work and graduation was around the corner. A fact that she used to relish because it meant one less point of contact between her and Gojo. Now she was facing down the prospect of being tied to him for life. 

“I can’t believe you’re getting married next month,” Shoko Ieiri said, picking at her salad with the end of her fork. 

The two of them were sitting at a courtyard table. It was finally becoming nice enough to sit outside comfortably. The well-kept foliage around them was coming in nicely. Flowers of a variety of colors began to bloom. Utahime chose the table they were at specifically because a large camellia bush was planted next to it and she was quite fond of the flower. Almost an entire year since her engagement to Gojo and spring had made its reappearance. 

Utahime gestured to the stack of books she had been using to research marriage laws and her open laptop with several forums bookmarked. The beginning of several forum threads that read some variation of How do I avoid an arranged marriage without offending a very powerful family? were open in her browser.

“I’m working on getting out of it,” she said.

Shoko looked at her piles of resources, her expression even. It was hard to tell what Shoko was thinking sometimes but Utahime knew she didn’t believe in her. “You should focus on your studies and graduating instead of this.”

Utahime knew Shoko was right but she was stubborn enough to keep combing through until she came up with a better idea. The combined wealth of the Gojo and Iori clans meant Utahime didn’t even need to worry about a degree or a job but this was for her. If she wanted to get out of this, she needed a backup plan. 

Utahime closed out all of her research tabs, intent on starting the homework she was putting off but Shoko nudged her. “Gojo is walking up,” she warned. 

The warning didn’t come soon enough. A long arm was swung around her shoulders suddenly, jostling her. Gojo’s face, adorned with a pair of round sunglasses and a goofy smile, was close to her own. Utahime went rigid, thankful she had already closed out of her tabs because her screen was in his view. Although he was perfectly aware that she was trying to get out of their arrangement. 

“Utahime!” Gojo exclaimed, much too loudly for how close he was to her. Utahime recoiled. “Hey, Shoko,” he said, much more casually. 

“I don’t think Utahime likes that very much,” Shoko said with a hint of amusement. 

Gojo ruffled Utahime’s hair which made her grumble even more. “Utahime doesn’t like anything I do.” 

“Because you’re annoying,” Utahime said, her teeth gritted. 

Marriage to Gojo aside, as long as she had to share Shoko with him, she was going to be stuck with him on some level anyway. Those three were so close, they did everything together. As close as they were, Shoko often spilled the details of their conversations to Utahime anyway. It did cross her mind that Shoko could do the same in return but Gojo and Geto never acted like they knew anything and she knew those two were not good enough actors to pretend otherwise. 

“Leave her alone, Satoru,” Geto’s smooth, calm voice called from behind her. Wherever Gojo was, Geto was soon to follow. 

“Can’t I be excited to see my future wife?” Gojo teased, poking a finger into Utahime’s cheek. Her stomach felt unsettled at the words future wife.  

“I still can’t believe you of all people are going to be married next month,” Geto said, walking up to their table. His hands were in his baggy pants and his dark hair half pulled up, the rest of it loose around his shoulders. 

Utahime was jealous of Geto and Shoko. They came from families well off enough to put them through as prestigious of a school as Jujutsu Tech but not high enough status that they could find themselves tied up in arranged marriages like Gojo and herself. She would trade spots with either of them if she could. 

“There won’t be a wedding next month if I can help it,” Utahime said, trying to shrug out from under Gojo’s arm without much luck.

“Ah, you’re still on that?” Gojo asked and she hated the way he looked at her. Geto flashed Utahime a look of sympathy and Shoko said nothing, avoiding eye contact. No one ever believed that she was serious. 

Gojo eyed one of the books stacked next to her laptop, the title giving way that it was about marriage laws. “My clan’s lawyers versus your amateur law knowledge. I love an underdog, Utahime but I don’t think you’re going to win this one.”

“I’m going to grab a drink, do you want to come with me?” Geto asked Shoko off to the side. She nodded and stuffed her own schoolwork into her bag. “We’ll be back,” Geto said to Gojo, and to Utahime’s most displeasure, she was alone with him. 

“Maybe if you’d help a little, I’d get further,” Utahime snapped once Geto and Shoko were out of earshot. 

“I don’t mind marrying you,” Gojo said, letting his arm slip off her shoulders so he could straddle the table bench, facing her. 

“What?” She sneered. “Is this another one of your bad jokes?”

“No, I don’t mind,” Gojo insisted, his sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, revealing his bright eyes. Utahime couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or poking fun at her again. 

“Well, I mind,” she huffed. 

“It’s really not a big deal. I told you, I’d rather it be you than a stranger. If you want to have a lover on the side, be my guest.” 

“That’s crass,” said Utahime. While she did have romantic ideals, having a partner and a husband at the same time wasn’t her flavor of romance. 

Gojo put a finger to his chin as if he was deep in thought. “Maybe the florist the Gojo clan contracts would be interested.” 

Utahime picked up her notebook and smacked him with it. It wasn’t very hard and the reaction drew a laugh from Gojo. “Do not bring that up,” she said. 

When the two were younger and Utahime’s parents insisted on making her spend time with him, that meant Gojo was often in her personal space. Utahime used to keep a diary filled with pre-teen melodrama that Gojo unfortunately uncovered. Helped himself to the entries and read through the entire journal like it was a riveting book and not her most embarrassing thoughts. 

Utahime used to have a painfully intense crush on one of the Iori clan’s florists. A fact that delighted Gojo when he read her thoughts about it. She remembered making excuses so she could come to the shop he worked at. He eventually got a new job and she never saw him again. It was so devastating to twelve-year-old Utahime and it’s one of Gojo’s favorite embarrassing moments to bring up. 

“ I may never love again, the light in my life is gone,” Gojo said, throwing his hand over his forehead dramatically. Of course, he had her words memorized. 

“Shut up,” Utahime grumbled. She could feel a headache coming on, a common occurrence around Gojo. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and Utahime could feel it through the bench they shared. Gojo shifted to take a look and Utahime prayed it was Geto and Shoko giving him the heads up that they would be returning. She would never be that lucky. 

Gojo waved his phone in front of her face, showing a message from Geto. “Geto and Shoko want to head into town, I know you’re going to say no but you can come since we are stealing Shoko from you.” 

Utahime deflated, it was unlikely the two of them were going to return like they said they would. “No, I have work to do.” 

It was only there for a moment but Utahime thought she noticed the faintest hint of disappointment on Gojo’s face before his usual nonchalant demeanor returned. 

“Suit yourself. Don’t work too hard,” he said, standing up and swinging his lanky leg over. He paused by the camellia bush. “Sitting next to these to remind you of your lost florist lover?” His teasing tone was back. 

“Goodbye, Gojo.” Utahime turned back to her computer, not wanting to encourage him to stay. So many camellias were around the Iori estate, that Utahime used to think it was a sign. She hated that Gojo picked up on her liking them so much. Little Utahime thought they were planted especially for her but now she was too old to be that delusional. 

“We have plenty of time to go into town together when we’re husband and wife,” he remarked and then headed up the path before Utahime could snap out another protest.

He always needed to have the last word. 

_____

Utahime Gojo.

That’s what the paperwork said. That’s how she signed her name. That’s what people called her now as of that evening. That was her name. 

It was a miracle Utahime had been able to find a vacant room at the wedding. There were so many guests, it felt impossible to get a moment alone especially since they were there for her. Well, more so for Gojo because the Iori clan didn’t have as many connections needed to facilitate a guest list of this size but by extension they were also there for her. She’s spoken to more people that evening than she had in her entire life. Each one of them congratulated her on something Utahime considered to be a loss. 

She didn’t bother turning the lights on, in hopes that the darkness would deter other guests. Utahime realized she was being silly. Sitting alone, in the dark, wearing a dress and jewelry priced at a small fortune, all at her own wedding. But she was stubborn and she was going to be with Gojo for the foreseeable future. A small bit of peace. 

It was short-lived, of course. 

The door slid open, and a stream of light poured in making Utahime want to hiss like a vampire. “Sulking in the dark at your own wedding?” Shoko called from the doorway. 

If anyone was going to find her, Utahime was glad that it was Shoko. Shoko was holding two glasses of wine, extending one of them to Utahime. She took it readily, tipping back the dark red liquid with a large gulp.

“It’s my wedding, I’ll sulk if I want to,” Utahime said after swallowing a mouthful of wine. 

“You’re acting like you’ve married a troll,” Shoko remarked, sitting down in the plush chaise lounge across from Utahime. She left the door open, the trickle of light illuminating both women’s faces. A steady droll of guests chatting and laughing in the background. 

“A troll may be preferable.” Utahime took another large drink of wine, leaving only a couple of droplets behind. The alcohol warmed her muscles. 

Shoko rolled her eyes. “If you ask me, I think you got off easy.” 

All things considered, Utahime didn’t have much to complain about. The threat of being arranged to marry someone from the Zenin family or someone twice her age still lurked in the back of her mind. Gojo was at least someone she knew and he was nice to look at. Again, not that she would tell him that. And despite being insufferable, he was sometimes fun to be around. She wouldn’t tell him that either. 

His wealth was also something that one couldn’t scoff at either. She was already used to a certain standard of living but now she was set for life. Utahime planned on taking a teaching job at the beginning of the next school year even though she didn’t need to work anymore. It was something to get her out of the house, something that had nothing to do with Gojo. 

The issue for someone as stubborn and independent as Utahime was that she wasn’t the one making the choice. 

“It’s the principle of it,” she said, setting the glass down on the side table, already craving more wine. 

“Right,” Shoko drew out. “Well if you’re done pouting, you’re expected to do one last appearance with your beloved. Then we can do something more of your speed.”

“Like what?” Utahime raised an eyebrow.

Shoko stood up and held her hand out for Utahime to grab. “Play nice and I’ll tell you.” 

The last appearance, as Utahime feared, was another dance in front of everyone. She had already done several expected public displays such as an extremely awkward close-mouthed kiss, posing for photos without scowling, and dancing with not only Gojo but many of his family members. Whenever guests clinked their glasses, she and Gojo were expected to kiss again which she always met with her lips in a tight line. Humiliating but if one last appearance was her price for freedom, Utahime would willingly pay. 

The venue was decorated to look like something out of a fairytale. Flowers covered every table and sprawling up the pillars. Soft intimate lighting. Beautiful warm music. Utahime was so fixated on trying to get out of the wedding, she hardly contributed to any of the setup. The camellias were an odd choice, in her opinion. She would’ve expected roses or peonies. 

Her hand grasped in Shoko’s, Utahime let herself get dragged to the center where Gojo was waiting for her. The wine in her stomach sat unsettled. Suddenly the room felt too hot and she was suffocating. There were so many people around and their eyes trailed to her. 

Utahime had to admit, Gojo looked very handsome at the moment. His usually unruly hair tamed into a neat style and his well-pressed formal wear fit perfectly. Shoko whisked her towards him and after a quick promise that she’d see her later, Utahime was alone with him. Her husband. 

Gojo snatched her hand and pulled her to him. “So rude, hiding from our guests.”

His grip was strong, his other hand rested at the small of her back, holding her close to him. The slow melodic music continued to play and Utahime was being swayed back and forth. She tried to avoid Gojo’s piercing gaze but he was magnetic. 

“One dance and then I’m leaving with Shoko,” she said firmly.

Gojo chuckled. “You mean we’re leaving with Shoko.”

“I’ll conveniently leave you behind.” Utahime flared up at him but was only met with his amused expression. 

“You better not because Suguru is driving and he wouldn’t leave me behind.”

“He might,” she retorted, not pleased with how big of a crowd her escape party with Shoko was becoming.  

His hand on her back came up to her forehead where he ran his thumb across her brows. She could feel the muscles in her face relax. “You’re going to get premature wrinkles at this rate. I’ll have to ask the photographer to edit the photos because I don’t think there’s a single one without you scowling,” he said, a slight smirk still on his face. 

Before she could come up with a reply, the sound of guests clinking the side of their glasses filled her ears with the telltale signal that they wanted the couple to kiss again. Utahime lost count of how many times they’ve done this, it was a huge part of why she was hiding in a dark room by herself. Gojo leaned down and quickly pecked her lips. Utahime appreciated that he kept it chaste. After this evening, she wasn’t planning on kissing him again. 

“Can we go?” Utahime muttered, their lips still close together.

“Of course, my beautiful, cheerful bride,” Gojo said with a smile and Utahime rolled her eyes. 

The two weaved through the crowd and although they tried to make a quick escape, they were stopped several times. Guests wanted to congratulate them, people who’ve known Gojo his whole life. Each one Gojo humored, charmed them with ease, and then managed to slip away. Utahime managed a strained smile, Gojo’s comment about her unpleasant expressions lingering in the back of her mind. 

Suguru Geto had a car parked outside with him in the driver’s seat and Shoko in the front passenger one. Gojo and Utahime crammed into the back seat, her dress taking up most of the space. Shoko held up a pair of shoes for Utahime to change into. She was so grateful for her friend’s thoughtfulness that she could cry. Her shoes, while exquisite, left her feet aching. 

Utahime begged Geto to stop for food. She barely touched her dinner at the wedding, her stomach too tied up to feel like eating. Now that she was free from the suffocating environment, she realized how starving she was. Geto pulled into a fast food drive-thru for her and soon she was stuffing her face with greasy food, not caring how unladylike she seemed now that she was out of the public eye. 

Gojo lurched forward with his arm pointing past Geto’s head. “Pull over here.”

“Don’t do that while I’m driving.” Geto swatted his hand away but did as he was told. 

They pulled up to a lakefront beach. Utahime recognized it, it was close enough to both the Gojo and Iori estates that she spent many summers here with Gojo. The outing usually ended up with her disgruntled from him getting sand all over her things and sneaking up behind her to throw her into the water. During the day, this beach was packed but at night it was deserted. The dark water glistened with the light of the moon reflecting off of it. 

With the car in park, her friends sprang into action. Gojo and Geto rushed out of their seats and threw open the trunk. Shoko shifted in the front seat and Utahime could hear the sound of glass bottles clinking together. No one had swimsuits but out of the back, the boys grabbed towels and a frisbee. Geto chucked it as hard as he could and it went soaring. Gojo ran after it, still in his dress clothes, though he discarded the jacket in the backseat on the way. 

“Better than staying at the stuffy wedding, right?” Shoko had a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

Utahime slid out of the car, her shoes sinking into the soft sand. “We’ll see,” she said as Geto tackled Gojo to the ground. 

She settled onto one of the towels Gojo tossed to the side and cracked open one of the beers Shoko brought. The light fizzy liquid was refreshing when it reached her lips. Utahime already had her fill of expensive wine that evening, the addition of the beer went straight to her head. All the pressure from the wedding melted away and she could pretend for a moment that they were all simply dumb freshly graduated young adults. 

“Smile!” There was a flash and Utahime blinked several times. Shoko was holding up a digital camera. 

Utahime was about to request no more photos when the frisbee whizzed past and knocked right into the hand that was holding her beer. The amber liquid sloshed onto her dress, staining it. The bottom was already dirty from being dragged through the sand but she was sure the family cleaners would be able to get that out. Beer soaked the front of her bodice and made her look sloppy. Maybe she should be more disheartened that her wedding dress, what was supposed to be the most important dress she ever wore, was ruined. But she wasn’t supposed to care about this wedding. If he really wanted to, Gojo could buy her a hundred wedding dresses with his wealth.  

“Gojo!” she shouted, setting the bottle down in the sand and standing up. 

“Kind of weird to call your husband by his family name,” Gojo mused, acting like he didn’t chuck a hard piece of plastic at her beer. 

That was going to take some getting used to. Utahime couldn’t think of one time when she didn’t call Gojo by his family name. But now she was a Gojo. Satoru. The name seemed foreign even thinking about it. 

Go–Satoru put his face close to hers, drawing her from her thoughts. He was breathing heavily from running around, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. It all made him look boyish at that moment. Utahime almost forgot about her ruined dress. 

Until Satoru scooped her up and carried her towards the water despite her protests. It was like when they were children, another sneak attack to get her into the water. She tried to wiggle free but his grip was strong and soon, Utahime felt herself get plunged into the cool lake water. It wasn’t deep, she could easily stand, her feet sinking into the sediment. The layers and layers of her dress were weighed down by the water. 

She managed to push herself away from him, the water splashing in his face which only made Satoru laugh harder. “Asshole!” she cried. 

“We’re cleaning your dress,” he said, eyes bright as he swam closer to her. Utahime let Satoru catch her, not because she wanted to of course. The dress was too heavy to maneuver away from him. 

“The dress is ruined,” she said. His hands were on her waist holding her in place and Utahime was extremely aware of their placement.

“So it is.” Water droplets slid down his face and Utahime couldn’t help but trail them with her eyes as they got near his mouth. 

“Utahime! Are you all right?” Shoko shouted from the beach, her feet bare and her own dress hiked up and pinned above her knees. Geto was next to her, his hair falling loose from his bun. Perhaps she shouldn't call him by his family name either since he was her husband's best friend.

Utahime shoved herself away from Satoru again. “Fine!” she called back and began to wade through the water to get back onto the beach. Each step was weighed down by lake water and when she reached land, it poured from her dress. It was so heavy, she was afraid it might slip off. 

“Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?” Satoru said, close behind her. 

Shoko rolled her eyes, pulling the cigarette she was smoking away from her mouth to blow out a plume of smoke. “I know you’re fine.”

Utahime shivered. The cold air combined with her wet dress was a recipe for hypothermia if she stayed out here but she didn’t have a change of clothes. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to block the chill out. Her teeth were chattering. 

“You need to take that off,” Shoko remarked. 

“I don’t have other clothes.”

Shoko shrugged. “Strip tease from the bride. You’re in luck, boys.”

When they got closer to the car, Shoko pulled the zipper on the back of the dress down and helped Utahime out of the soaked layers. She left her strapless bra, panties, and garter belt on. It was still cold but much better without the dress. Utahime snatched Satoru’s forgotten jacket out of the back and slipped it on in an attempt to save what little dignity she had left. 

“You’re a dick,” Suguru muttered to Satoru as he chucked off his own wet clothing down to his briefs. 

“I’m cold too,” he whined. 

“So suffer,” Shoko replied and gathered up Utahime in her arms to try and warm her up.

It was clear the fun was over so Suguru ran around to pick everything up, making sure not to leave any trash behind while Satoru shivered and Utahime basked in Shoko’s warmth. The towels were laid down in the backseat so Utahime and Satoru wouldn’t get the leather seats of Suguru’s car wet. Which he was very worried about and stressed several times to Satoru to not get his car wet. Utahime got into the back, already missing the extra warmth from being held. 

“One to tell the kids, right?” Satoru said as he got in next to her. 

Utahime narrowed her eyes at him. “This is grounds for divorce. And what do you mean kids?”

Satoru shrugged with the same teasing grin he always had. Utahime made sure to emphasize that there would be no kids. She had zero intentions of ever letting him get that close to her. Children…she couldn’t even imagine the hellscape it would be to try and raise children with someone like Satoru. Especially since not long ago, she considered herself barely a child. 

With the excitement dying down, Utahime’s eyes felt heavy. Suguru was kind enough to put the heat on for them but she was still shivering some. She glanced at Satoru, who was seemingly wide awake and staring out the window thoughtfully. Utahime shifted so that she could rest her head on his shoulder to steal his warmth. He was her husband after all.  

Satoru looked down at her and as though Utahime had some kind of sixth sense for his nonsense, she could tell he was about to make a remark. “Don’t say anything,” she said quietly and he didn’t. 

Instead, he moved so she could settle against his chest and draped his arm around her. His fingers traced shapes against her skin lightly as he went back to staring out the window. Utahime could feel sleep sneak up on her, the weight of the day crashing down. Maybe this wasn’t the end of the world. 

_____

For Utahime, married life was easy.

She lived in a large home that was decorated in precisely the way she wanted. There’s a beautiful garden that she likes to linger in. She doesn’t have to work, though she was sending out a few teaching applications here and there. The best part was that she and Satoru had completely different bedrooms and he never pressured her into sleeping in the same bed as him. 

It was something that worried her right after they were married when they arrived at the home Satoru’s parents picked out for them. Something so obvious that married couples did, Utahime didn’t know why she hadn’t realized it earlier. But she told him she didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as him and Satoru didn’t argue with her so they each had their own bedroom. If it ever bothered him that they didn’t sleep next to each other, he never gave anything away to make Utahime think so but then again, Utahime didn’t know why he would want to anyway. It wasn’t like they married for love. 

In fact, without a job or school taking up her time, Utahime made seeking a divorce her full-time job. She never gave it up and now she had access to the best legal team in the country. It wasn’t the divorce itself that was the problem, she was sure she would be able to get that to go through. It was offending the Gojo family. Satoru said he didn’t care but the rest of the clan did and Utahime didn’t want to stain her own family’s reputation. A delicate situation all around.

With Satoru taking over as head of the clan, he was often absent. For the first time in her life, Utahime wished he was around more. Having a large house was nice but it felt like an empty cage some days. There would be days when Utahime wouldn’t see Satoru and wouldn’t notice he was home until his bedroom door down the hall closed while she was trying to fall asleep. 

The strange dichotomy of seeking a divorce by day and craving his presence at night. 

Her loneliness would soon be over after Satoru came home early one day. Standing in her foyer were two small children. A boy and a girl. Utahime froze on the staircase, and Satoru stared up at her sheepishly. It was no secret that behind the front of successful enterprises, some of the ancient clans got involved in less than ethical dealings. The Gojo clan was no exception and Utahime feared the worst.  

“I know you said no kids but I couldn’t leave them,” Satoru immediately jumped into justifying himself. 

Utahime’s eyes flickered from him to the two children. The girl was a little taller than the boy and she could tell by the way she carried herself, she was the more outgoing of the two. The boy averted eye contact, choosing to stare at his shoes. Her first instinct was to demand him to explain himself but the kids didn’t need to hear what kind of language she wanted to use. 

“It’s fine,” Utahime said in the most calm voice she could muster. She descended the rest of the stairs, pausing before the children, and kneeled down to their level. “Do you two want a snack?”

She set them up at the kitchen counter with some fresh apple slices but not before she and Satoru had a hushed argument over what was appropriate to feed children. If it wasn’t for Utahime, Satoru would’ve been sharing his absurd sweets stash with them. When the kids were settled, occupied with their apples, Utahime grasped Satoru’s sleeve and dragged him out into the hall. 

“What the fuck?” she spat in a low voice when she was sure they were far away enough that the kids wouldn’t be able to hear their quiet voices. 

Satoru unzipped his jacket and pulled it open, revealing his blood-stained white shirt. “Business deal didn’t work out.”

“With who?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the stain. There didn’t seem to be any active bleeding and it wouldn’t be unlike him to ask Shoko for some medical assistance outside of her practice before coming home. 

“Zenins.”

“Those kids belong to the Zenins? Satoru, we can’t–”

“ They’re not Zenin but their dad was.”

An attempt at making amends with another clan. A rogue family member hired by outsiders to meddle. Satoru’s uncanny ability to land himself in a fight. A giant coverup to hide the mess. Satoru didn’t kill him but the Zenin clan wasn’t going to let the disloyalty slide no matter how long it’s been since the children's dad was disowned. Now Utahime was the guardian to two small children. 

Tsumiki, the oldest, found it easier to warm up to her new living situation. She was kind, smart, and thoughtful. Utahime would read her stories, braid her hair, and even let Tsumiki try some of her makeup. She was a curious girl with an inquisitive mind and a willingness to always help others. It was rare that she wasn’t offering to help with cooking dinner or helping Utahime with other small tasks. 

Megumi was another story. 

He was quiet and closed off. Utahime assumed it was because of the living situation he escaped from. He didn’t seem to trust others as readily as his sister did. Most amusing though, he didn’t seem to like Satoru. Utahime was used to people falling for Satoru’s charm, and Tsumiki took to him immediately. Megumi didn’t laugh at his jokes, wasn’t interested in anything Satoru was up to, and was defiant when Satoru tried to get him to participate in anything. 

Megumi liked Utahime though. He wasn’t overt with his affection but he chose to sit next to her during meals and TV time. Sometimes he would even let her hold him. Perhaps it was the shared annoyance they felt towards Satoru that brought them close together. Finally, Utahime won against Satoru in something. 

Utahime used to lament about how empty the house was but now it felt full. Two children kept her busy and suddenly Satoru was home more. Nothing like a near-death experience to make one realize there were more important things than spending all his time working. Less important clan duties were delegated and now it was like they were a real family. 

“Megumi!” Satoru called, waving a baseball bat. “Come take a turn!”

The four of them were in the backyard. Utahime’s camellia bushes were in full bloom, lining the patio with their pink flowers. Megumi nestled in her arms with a beach towel over his head to shield him from the late spring sun. Satoru had tee-ball set up and was trying to teach the children how to swing. Only Tsumiki seemed interested but at that point, she had swung so many times in a row her arms were sore. Megumi gave Satoru a side-eye before turning away and getting cozier in Utahime’s arms. 

Satoru got closer to the patio lounge the two were situated on and held the bat out. “Megumi, come on. Are you going to let your sister get better than you? Give me one swing.”

“No,” Megumi grumbled. 

“You baby him too much,” Satoru accused and Utahime shrugged. Both kids were extremely spoiled since moving in with them and Satoru was as guilty as she was.

“I’m not a baby,” Megumi protested, sitting up and letting the towel slip from his head. 

“Seems like it. Only babies don’t want to play baseball,” Satoru goaded and that was enough to get Megumi to scramble off of Utahime’s lap and grab the bat from him. He let it drag in the dirt behind him, leaving a trail. Tsumiki set the tee up for him and for a six-year-old, he had a decent swing. 

Satoru gave Utahime a triumphant grin which earned him an eye roll. He sauntered back over to Megumi as the boy hit another ball. The kids played with Satoru until they were huffing and puffing. Exhausted and sweaty, Utahime finally convinced the two to come inside to have dinner, baths, and story time. Satoru looked as tired as they did but he insisted he was fine. 

Story time was always in Utahime’s bed with Megumi tucked in on one side and Tsumiki on the other. It was Tsumiki’s turn to pick a book but instead of one of the many books they had lying around the house, she dragged a photo album into the bed. 

“Can we look at this?” she asked. 

“That’s not a story,” Megumi said. 

Utahime smoothed his hair back. “It’s not a book but it’s full of stories.”

Tsumiki handed Utahime the photo album and she opened it to the first page, the contents made her pause. Looking back at her was her own unsmiling face, dressed in her wedding dress. Satoru's arm around her waist, holding her close, flashing the camera a large smile. The album was put together shortly after their wedding and Utahime made a point to never look at it. 

“Ah, I love this one,” Satoru said from the doorway before letting himself in and plopping down next to Megumi. His weight made the mattress bounce and Megumi shot him a disgruntled look. 

The first few pages were unsurprising. Several couple photos of Utahime and Satoru. Several more with relatives sneaking in beside them. More of the decor and the crowd. Tsumiki had a question about every single one in the way that children always needed an answer to everything. Megumi examined the images in silence, leaning into Utahime’s side. Satoru propped up on a pillow. 

Tsumiki pointed at the flower arrangements. “We have these in the backyard,” she stated. 

“They’re camellias. Utahime’s favorite,” Satoru supplied. 

She flipped the page and no longer were the photos professional ones of her wedding but grainy ones taken with the flash on. The first was of Utahime sitting on a towel in the sand, a beer bottle to her lips. Her hair was loose and windswept. The background of the beach was dark, the only thing visible was whatever was illuminated by the flash. She wasn’t looking at the camera. 

Smile!

Utahime vaguely remembered Shoko’s digital camera but she never bothered asking for the pictures afterwards. And she didn’t expect to see them in the album they were gifted. There were almost as many as the actual wedding. One where Shoko turned the camera backward to capture one of her and Suguru together, his long hair blown across his face. A few of Satoru and Suguru chasing each other through the sand with the frisbee.

Some blurry and out of focus. But those were the ones that made Utahime wonder if that day was one of the good old days she’d grow nostalgic for. It hadn’t been that long, not even two years. But seeing herself in her long ruined wedding dress made Utahime yearn for the ability to reach out and tell her previous self to enjoy that moment. 

Her eyes lingered on the one that was taken from a distance. Satoru holding her in his arms in the lake, her own wrapped around his neck. Their faces were close together like they were sharing a secret and Utahime wasn’t scolding him for dunking her in the water. The moon shone perfectly on the water. It was so intimate that Utahime hardly recognized them. They looked like two lovers. 

Satoru leaned over to point it out. “Utahime’s dress was filthy and we had to clean it.” 

“It was dirty because your frisbee spilled beer over it,” Utahime added. Tsumiki giggled at their banter. 

The last page had a single picture. Satoru leaned against the car door, staring out the window, looking thoughtful. Utahime nestled beside him, his arm around her, and her eyes were closed. His jacket covered up the fact that at this point she removed her soaked dress and she was only in her bra, panties, and garter belt. The flash lit up the backseat. Utahime was so exhausted at the time, the bright light didn’t wake her up. 

Utahime’s throat felt tight and announced it was time for bed, gathering up the two kids before they could ask any more questions. She left Satoru and the album behind while she tucked them in. He would probably be gone by the time she got back. 

Tsumiki was settled in her room. Utahime pulled the blanket up to Megumi’s chin. “Can’t believe you two are married,” he said. 

She pressed her lips to his forehead. “Me neither.”

One to tell the kids, right?

Utahime once thought that raising children with Satoru was far outside of the realm of possibility. Yet there she was, tucking in two children for bed after a full day. After telling them stories from her wedding day. But it wasn’t so bad. They worked well together, she trusted him and he trusted her. The children loved them. She couldn’t ask for much more. 

She snuck back to her room to find that Satoru had fallen asleep in her bed. The album laid open next to him to the page with the last picture. Utahime was sure she closed it before putting the kids to bed. Under normal circumstances, Utahime would’ve nudged him awake so he could go to his own room. Instead, she picked up the album, placed it on the nightstand, and managed to pull the covers out from under him to tuck him too. Like she did with the children. 

His face was relaxed, white hair splayed out on the pillow. Satoru slept so heavily that he didn’t even stir when she moved the blankets. They had never slept in the same bed together but maybe this one time, she’d let him. 

Utahime crawled into bed on the other side, pulling the covers over herself, and turned the light off. In the darkness, she was aware of his steady breathing and the warmth radiating from him. It was different but she had to admit, it was comforting to have him next to her. Even though she didn’t have anything to fear, she felt safe. If she shifted a little, she would be touching him but Utahime remained still. Having him near was enough. 

Sleeping came easy.  

_____

“It’ll only be a weekend.”

Megumi was trying and failing to hide the sadness on his face. Tsumiki was bounding around the foyer, excited to ramble to Suguru and Shoko about what she was currently learning in school. Satoru was packing his and Utahime’s suitcase into the car. Utahime gathered a pouting Megumi in her arms for one last hug. 

Suguru ruffled Megumi’s hair. “Won’t even notice they’re gone, we’ll be having too much fun.”

“Thanks again for offering to watch them,” Utahime said, straightening up. 

“It’s such a huge ask to have us stay in your enormous house but I think we’ll manage.” Shoko winked. 

Delayed honeymoon, a gift from Satoru’s parents, a reprieve from the children, or all three. Utahime and Satoru were going on their first real vacation together. Before Utahime would think going on vacation with him would be an awful punishment but now she would say they were friends. He was still obnoxious but she didn’t mind being around him. A possible side effect from co-parenting or a genuine fondness. Either way, Utahime couldn’t get around admitting that at the very least, she and Satoru were friends. 

With one last round of goodbyes, they were off. Utahime turned towards the house, seeing the two children watching the car retreat from the window. The longest they’ve been separated from them was the duration of a school day. But the kids loved spending time with Shoko and Suguru and it was only a weekend. 

“My parents booked the room,” Satoru said, one hand on the wheel, his other arm resting on the center console. A pair of sunglasses covered his eyes. “I tried getting the hotel to switch to two queens but they only had rooms with one king available.”

“It’s fine, we’re adults,” Utahime said as the house disappeared behind the trees.  

“If you didn’t mind having me in your bed, you should’ve said something,” he said, smirking. 

“Don’t push it or it’ll be a long weekend.” Utahime kept her gaze fixed on the trees, feeling her cheeks warm. 

Their vacation was at an all-exclusive resort a few hours away from home. Far enough to be considered a getaway but close enough to rush home if need be. A private beach, beautiful pools, and Utahime had a massage booked. She was going to enjoy every minute of her time away. Recently she began teaching classes part-time and taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki was already a full-time job. Satoru was busy with clan duties. They both needed a break. 

They pulled up to the resort, a valet took their car, and the two of them made their way into the extravagant lobby. The floors were glossy, and Utahime’s shoes clicked with each step. Above them, a chandelier glittered with the light reflecting off of it. Other guests were sitting on the couches, their suitcases propped up next to them as they waited for shuttles. In the middle of the lobby, there was a large round table. A vase full of pink, red, and white camellias sat in the center. 

Satoru let his fingers graze the end of one of the petals. “These are nice.”

“They’re out of season,” Utahime remarked. 

“This place must have a nice florist. I need to watch out. They may steal you away from me.” He grinned at her. 

Utahime shook her head. “Doesn’t that joke get old?”

“It gets funnier every time actually.”

Utahime chose peace rather than saying anything that would encourage Satoru to keep egging her on. She lingered a step behind him as he approached the front desk. He slapped his hand down on the dark wood. The young woman behind the desk blinked in rapid succession before composing herself. Satoru talked smoothly and handed over his card. Maybe he didn’t notice but Utahime did. The faint pink blush on the woman’s face and the way she kept touching her hair. Smiling brightly at him and giggling even though he didn’t tell a joke.

People becoming flustered by Satoru was normal. It happened all the time when Utahime was there. The presence of a woman with a wedding band that matched his never seemed to deter people. Likely it happened even more when she wasn’t around but Utahime didn’t like to think about that. She got the eye of the receptionist and gave her the most unamused expression she could manage. Similar to the displeased look she had in half of her wedding photos. The receptionist immediately looked away and finished up at a quicker pace than before.

Satoru turned around and held the card keys up, his usual smile still plastered on his face. Unaware of his wife’s irritation. Utahime grabbed one of the cards from him and led the way down the hall, eager to get away from Satoru’s admirer. She was quiet most of the way to the room, knowing that if she said anything, her tone would give away how bothered she was. Utahime didn’t want Satoru to think that people flirting with him annoyed her. 

He was the same way too. On occasion when they were out together, someone would hit on Utahime and Satoru would get a cloudy expression. Even if she wasn’t being hit on and the person was starting a seemingly innocent conversation, Satoru would straighten up and keep his eye on them. It seemed hypocritical of him after his incessant florist jokes. He’d never say anything about it and neither would she. Utahime would rather live in ignorance than face whatever it meant. 

The door clicked open and as expected, the room contained a single king-sized bed. The sheets were white and crisp-looking. Their room had a balcony that overlooked the pool area. A waterfall shower was in the modern bathroom. The room itself was huge and everything about it was reflected in the price.

Utahime wanted to relax but Satoru wanted to try out one of the swimming pools right away. Years ago Utahime would’ve put up more of a fight but today, she was digging her bathing suit out of her suitcase. A simple black bikini and a sheer coverup that she’d throw on over it so she could walk through the lobby. She remembered to grab a book on their way out the door. Satoru could splash around all he wanted to on his own. She was going to relax. 

Satoru jumped into the water, surfacing shortly after and shook his head like a dog. There weren’t many people by the pool yet so Satoru had full reign to take up as much space as he wanted. Utahime found a deck chair and laid her towel out, opening her book. She already obtained a beer from the bar on their way over.

“Whatcha reading?”

Utahime looked up to see that a couple chairs over was a man trying to peer at the cover of her book. She turned it towards him, hoping that would satisfy him. Of course it didn’t, it caused him to move to a closer chair. He was handsome, she thought. Tan, his dark hair parted and fell into his warm brown eyes. But she was not interested in meeting handsome people and she hadn’t been for a long time now. 

“I hope this doesn’t sound rude but your scar is really interesting,” he said, gesturing to his own face. 

“Thanks,” Utahime said shortly, flipping a page of her book. Her scar brought mixed reactions. Some thought it made her look mysterious, and some tried not to look at it. Utahime didn’t mind either way, her own opinion of her scar was neutral. It was a part of her face like any other part was.

“Where did you get it?”

“Quit talking to her.” Utahime jumped, not expecting to hear Satoru’s voice. She didn’t notice that he got out of the pool and was towering over her chair. Water was dripping from him. He stared down at the man. 

“Just being friendly,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Yeah, with my wife. ”

“Satoru, it’s fine,” Utahime said, looking up at him, trying to diffuse the situation. He normally didn’t confront people and she wasn’t sure what was different about today. 

He gave the man one last hard look. “Let’s go back to the room.”

Utahime didn’t argue, wanting to be as far away from the guy as possible anyway. She downed her beer and gathered up their things. Stopping by the bar on the way back to the room, she grabbed another drink. It was all-inclusive, so she wanted to get her in-law’s money worth out of it. Satoru was sulking and he was first to claim the shower since he needed to wash the pool water off of himself. Utahime lounged on the couch with her beer, not wanting to dirty the bed. 

He was in the shower for a long time, and Utahime thought about checking on him. She even had time to wander off, get another beer, and come back before he finished. He finally emerged with nothing but a towel around his waist as he searched through his bag for his clothes. His white hair slicked back from being wet. Utahime had to look away. She would claim that she’s seen him shirtless enough times that it didn’t faze her but she didn’t want to get caught staring. 

“You don’t normally say anything to guys hitting on me,” she said. It was dangerous to bring it up in case Satoru was still stewing over it but her curiosity got the better of her. 

“He was eyeing you the moment we got there. Pissed me off, didn’t he see me walk out with you?”

Utahime didn’t want to add that she had the exact same thinking when the receptionist flirted with him. Didn’t these people know she and Satoru were married? The rings were easy to miss and they weren’t affectionate with each other. A marriage built on political and business transactions with her childhood annoyance, it never occurred to Utahime to be affectionate with him. Standing one step behind him at the counter, Satoru went swimming without her. To an outsider who didn’t understand the arrangement, they didn’t look married.

“People don’t think we’re married,” she said, looking down the length of the empty beer bottle. 

“What, should I grab your ass in front of them?” Satoru pulled his shirt over his head. 

Utahime’s cheeks flared and not from the alcohol. “Absolutely not.”

Satoru disappeared back inside the bathroom to pull his pants on and then the shower was hers. She let the hot water wash over her skin. An idea formed in her head. She couldn’t believe she was the one even thinking of it. Her shower was much shorter than Satoru’s and as she dried off, she could feel herself grow nervous. It was just Satoru and they were grown adults, it was stupid for her to be nervous. 

Utahime stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body and one wrapped around her hair. Satoru was lying in the bed on top of the blankets, flipping through the generic channels every hotel had. She shuffled out and grabbed the dress she was going to wear to dinner. 

“Your phone rang,” he said, not taking his eyes off the TV. 

She grabbed her phone off the TV stand and eyed the screen. A missed call from the family attorney. The last time she spoke with him, he mentioned that he may be closer to finding a way to file the divorce. But it had been months since then and Utahime had forgotten about that until now. She was growing less and less passionate about that endeavor as time went on but whenever the attorney asked if she was still pursuing divorce, Utahime insisted she was. He should know better than to call her while she was on vacation too. It wasn’t like he didn’t receive updates on what the whole family was up to. She’d call him back in a couple days after they got home. 

There was another notification from Shoko. A picture of Tsumiki and Megumi sleeping on the couch under the same fleece blanket with a text that said Suguru tired them out at the park. She smiled at the picture, glad they were doing all right without her and Satoru there. 

Utahime set the phone back on the stand face down and took a deep breath through her nose. “When we go to dinner, do you want to hold hands?”

“Asking to hold my hand, are we twelve?” His tone was teasing and Utahime knew he would be smirking now.

She turned towards him and sure enough, he was leaning against the pillows with a smug grin. “People will think we’re married if we hold hands.”

“I think you want an excuse to touch me,” he said and it made Utahime begin to regret even suggesting the action in the first place. “I’ll allow it.”

“You’re insufferable,” she sighed and turned back to the bathroom.

“And yet you’re the one desperate to hold my hand.” 

Utahime slammed the bathroom door shut. 

Satoru made a show of offering his hand to her when it was time to leave for dinner. Utahime took it, even more sure that it was a bad idea to bring it up. His hand was warm and much larger than hers. Their fingers intertwined and she was so close to him, her arm brushed against his. His skin was soft in a way that made her suspect that he was stealing her expensive lotion. It always seemed to run out quickly. 

The change was immediate. While a few onlookers would eye them, the moment they saw their interlocked hands they seemed to lose interest. Satoru never dropped her hand and she was becoming self-conscious that it might be getting sweaty. He didn’t seem to mind. Even during dinner, he kept his arm stretched over the table to keep her hand in his grasp. Only letting go when the food arrived. 

At this point, Utahime realized she might have overdone it with the all-inclusive drinks. With the beers from earlier and a couple of glasses of wine, she felt like she was overheating. Her head was swimming and Satoru reaching over to rub his thumb over the back of her hand wasn’t helping. It was making her want more. She wanted him to touch her more. A thought she once considered revolting, she now desired more than anything. It had to be the alcohol. She’d be normal again in the morning. 

If she could survive until then. 

Handholding had escalated to Satoru having his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her side. She could feel his warmth through the fabric of her dress. It satisfied her urge to be touched more until it didn’t. Even though they were pressed together, her drunken brain decided it still wasn’t enough. The idea of sharing a bed with him didn’t bother her but knowing that she was going to be close to him the entire night felt like she was being challenged now. 

They got back to the room and she sat down on the bed while Satoru kneeled at her feet to help take her heels off. He unclasped the straps and slipped the shoe off. All Utahime could think about was his light touch on her ankle. He used the bathroom first to get changed and it would’ve been wise for Utahime to wait her turn but alcohol sapped all her senses. She stripped her dress off and hurried to change before Satoru reemerged. 

“Shit,” he said while Utahime was in the process of pulling her shirt down. “You really are drunk.”

Satoru had turned away but she was already fully covered by now. “I’m fine,” she mumbled but even to her own ears, she sounded drunk. 

She crawled into bed, throwing the covers over herself and settling into the soft pillows. The bed shifted when Satoru got in after her. She kept her back towards him, already feeling the aching need to be touched sneaking back up on her. Sleeping in a bed with Satoru was like sleeping with her own personal space heater. The heat was inviting more than ever. Utahime wished she was strong enough to ignore him.

“Did you enjoy your first ever hand-holding?”

Utahime rolled over to glare at him. It was hard to focus but she would know his obnoxious smirk anywhere. “I think you enjoyed it more. Your hands were all over me.”

“It was your hands all over me, actually,” he said, leaning closer to her. Maybe it was her who snuggled closer to him. She wasn’t sure. 

“You touched my waist, that’s not my hand,” she retorted, her words slurring some. 

“You practically flashed me,” he returned. 

There wasn’t much space between them at this point. Utahime’s eyes flickered to his lips which made him halt his teasing. They hadn’t kissed since their wedding night. In the spirit of acting like a married couple, Utahime had the overwhelming urge to do it. She was not thinking clearly but that was for sober Utahime to deal with later. One shift closer to him and she could close the gap. 

Her lips collided with the corner of his mouth. Satoru seemed to gain enough sense to turn his head. The realization of what she did and the fact that he essentially rejected her made Utahime feel instantly sober. She moved away from him, trying to put as much space between them as she could. Utahime grabbed an extra pillow and shoved it between them for good measure so she wouldn’t be tempted again. 

“You’re definitely drunk,” Satoru said and turned the lights off. He didn’t sound mad. The lingering effects of alcohol made it hard for Utahime to tell what he was feeling. Disappointment came to mind but that didn’t sound right to her. 

She turned over in the bed and forced her eyes shut. They wouldn’t talk about it for the rest of the weekend. And there was no more hand-holding. 

_____

It was an odd sight. 

The divorce papers sat in a neat stack. A bouquet of camellias next to it, stems freshly cut and in a vase. Each sheet of paper had Satoru’s signature scrawled in blue ink. Utahime hadn’t heard him come home and she still hadn’t seen him. She knew the papers were coming though. The accumulation of her research, her work with attorneys, and her determination laid out before her. 

And now she didn’t want it. 

She picked the papers up and sat down on the couch to read them over. Satoru always said she wasn’t a prisoner. The Gojo and the Iori clans reached an agreement that would allow her to exit the marriage without offending anyone. She had grown to like Satoru. Really like him. There was no shortage of things he’s done to rile her up but the thought of not having him around anymore sent a pang through her chest. How foolish would she look if she went back and told the attorneys never mind?

There was also the matter of the children. She didn’t want to give them up. She didn’t want to give any of this up. Her own stubbornness had become her downfall. 

Her eyes stung with tears. The worst part was that Satoru went ahead and signed all the papers without question. The possibility that she was alone with her feelings loomed over her. She had no one to blame but herself. Grief and anger. Mourning the impending loss of her picturesque life and fury towards herself for needing everything to be on her terms. 

Utahime could sense she wasn’t alone anymore. She was so used to Satoru now, she could recognize the pattern his footsteps made against the floor. A single tear tried to break free but she rubbed the back of her hand against her eye to stop it. She sniffed once to try and hide the fact she began to cry. Her throat felt tight and she was thankful that the kids had already gone to bed. 

“You cryin’?”

“No,” she replied, sounding nasally. She sniffed once more. “You brought me flowers to go along with our divorce papers?”

Satoru walked closer to the couch and Utahime turned her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Nah, these are for me. I’ll let you enjoy them if you want though.”

“What do you think?”

He sat down on the couch and there was no hiding her face now. “The flowers? I’m more of a roses guy myself but these are nice.”

“No!” Utahime gripped the papers until they wrinkled in her hands. “Not the flowers, you idiot. The divorce.”

Satoru shrugged. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” she admitted. Her cheeks felt flushed and this was like pulling teeth. Putting her feelings on the line while he tried to deflect with the stupid flowers. Maybe this was hard for both of them. 

“Then I’ll put these in the shredder,” he said and grabbed the papers from her, standing up before Utahime could realize she didn’t have them anymore. 

“It can’t be that easy.”

“Sure it is. I’ll go shred them right now. What are they going to do, glue the pieces back together?”

Utahime was standing now too. “You want to stay married?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate. 

“I want what you want,” he said and despite the seriousness of the situation, he managed to smirk at her. 

“That’s not an answer,” she said, following him out of the room as he made his way down the hall to one of the offices. 

“I told you what I thought years ago, not my fault you weren’t listening.”

Satoru began to feed the sheets of paper to the shredder, one by one. The machine whirred as it chewed everything up. Utahime didn’t know what he was talking about. He never seemed keen on the idea of getting married but he did choose her. A simple explanation of wanting to marry someone he knew rather than a stranger was enough to make sense to her. She couldn’t remember a time when he had any more thoughts than that. 

Her arms were folded across her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m so desperately in love with that obnoxious know-it-all from the Iori clan. Remember that? Starting to lose your memory with age, I guess.” He wasn’t looking at her, continuing to feed the paper into the shredder. Utahime froze, and a vague memory of being alone in the garden with him surfaced at the front of her mind. It was so like him to try and cover anything vulnerable up with a joke at her expense. 

“You were serious?”

Satoru finally turned to face her, a little sheepish but he was good at recovery. He gave her another grin. “I’m always serious with you.”

The last piece of paper was shredded. No more divorce papers and Utahime was still married. She should say something but what? That she was so desperately in love with that obnoxious brat from the Gojo clan? After years and years of being unable to stand him, Satoru Gojo somehow managed to wiggle his way into her heart. He merged himself with her routines, her space, and her very being. Utahime couldn’t imagine spending a day without him. 

“Well that’s it,” he said, dusting his hands off as if the task was manual labor and not sliding paper into a machine. “Until death do us part.” 

She should say it. I love you. It was easy, it was three words and he pretty much already said so himself. Utahime wasn’t going to get rejected. There was no reason why her actions and her words couldn’t match. This one sentence would give her everything she wanted. And yet, she couldn’t do it. The urge to retreat began to swallow her up. 

“Goodnight,” she said and turned towards the stairs. Her heart pounded. 

Utahime didn’t hear whether Satoru said goodnight back, she was already halfway up the stairs. She was only making things worse for herself, she couldn’t run from him in her own house. Tomorrow for sure, she decided. After sleeping on it, Utahime was sure she would be able to formulate a way to express herself without it feeling like a big deal. 

Inside her room, she only felt worse. What was she thinking, leaving him like that in the office? Utahime sat on the edge of her bed, her feet pulled up. She chewed her bottom lip, replaying everything in her mind over and over. It’s Satoru. Her husband. She had already done all the real hard stuff. They had a wedding, they were raising children together, and they survived vacation. Her stomach coiled, adrenaline pumped through her veins but she unfurled herself anyway. 

She moved across the room and threw open the door. Utahime intended on marching down the hall to Satoru’s room but she nearly collided with him in her doorway. His hand in a fist, raised up to knock on her door. She stared up at him wide-eyed, completely thrown off to encounter him so soon after her surge of bravery. His gaze was softer but his expression was hard to read. He wasn’t smirking or teasing her. She wasn’t sure what that meant. 

Satoru slid his hand through her hair to hold her head at the base and pressed his lips to her. He kissed her hard. It wasn’t like the close-mouthed kisses from the wedding. He was being deliberate. Utahime could only stand there and let it happen, the shock freezing her. Then he pulled away a little and Utahime immediately missed his touch. A look of want in his eyes made Utahime realize that feeling was something that was always there. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his lips back to hers. Crushing their mouths together, Utahime kissed him until she felt like she was out of air. His hand was still in her hair, his other came to her waist to pull her against him. She opened her mouth slightly when his tongue traced her lips. Their noses brushed together. Utahime let her own fingers slide into his soft, white hair, tugging on the strands gently. 

He backed her up more into the room and shut the door behind him. Her legs came in contact with the edge of her bed and she let herself get pushed onto the mattress. Satoru followed after her. He kissed the side of her neck, giving her a moment to breathe. Her lips felt swollen. She held him close to her as she caught her breath, Satoru kissed up the column of her neck. 

“Satoru,” she whispered. 

“Hm?” he hummed against her skin. 

“I love you.” 

He pulled his head up, his cheeks flushed. “Even if I’m not a florist?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, pressing her lips against his to shut him up herself. Florists weren’t really her thing anymore anyway.