"So?" Gojo draws the word out like an entire conversation. "What happened?"

You close your eyes and rub at your throbbing temples, because of course that would be the first question Gojo asks. The man thrives off drama, and what better way to entertain himself than with his students' love lives? Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the red flush covering Yuta's face; he looks absolutely mortified. Any more of Gojo's pointed questions, and you're sure that he'll burst into flames where he sits.

Megumi, for his part, looks queasy. You wonder if this is due to Gojo's driving, or the fact that he's now an unwilling bystander to the most uncomfortable topic known in the history of man ━ his sister's love life with his beloved senior. "Gojo, I don't think I want to hear this."

"Well I do, Megumi, so sit there and be quiet." Gojo retorts, before turning his attention back to you. Privately, you think that his attention should be directed to the road, before the three of you end up back in the hospital again. "What happened? Tell Gojo-sensei everything."

Through the rearview mirror, you pin Gojo in place with a dry stare. You hope that does the job in conveying how unlikely that possibility is. But Gojo must have some inkling of what transpired between you and Yuta, had probably seen the heat washing over your cheeks and the bashful way Yuta had lowered his eyes to the floor. And most telling of all: the way your fingers had been tangled with his; loosely at first, but you'd grown bold enough to press your fingers flush against his, secretly thrilled when Yuta hadn't pulled away or told you to stop.

Oh, yeah. Gojo knows.

"I'm hungry," you say instead. It's just about time for dinner anyway, and what do you know, you're actually feeling hungry tonight. Hopefully you'll be able to keep dinner down this time. "Let's get dinner. I want pizza."

The tires squeal and the car lurches to one side. You grip your seat even harder, your heart hammering painfully in your chest. Gojo flashes you a wide smile, but even that isn't enough to take the edge off your anxiety. "That's good! You'll need your strength for tomorrow!"

"What about Maki and everyone else?" Megumi asks, but it doesn't escape your notice, how quickly he jumps at changing the subject.

"There's this fantastic little thing called takeaway. And if they're hungry enough, they can cook."

"They'll burn the dorms down."

"Guys . . ."

"I want pineapple on my pizza!"

"Who the hell eats pineapple with pizza?"

"I the hell do! Language, Megumi!"

"And this is how wars start," you say, thoroughly unimpressed by Gojo's maturity as he bickers with a fifteen-year-old about the pros and cons of putting pineapple on pizza. Though it's not the first argument you've witnessed between them over the years, weathered by Tsumiki's feather-light smile.

Yuta nudges you, his warm shoulder brushing against yours. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"The Elders want to speak with me. Probably about the ━" You can't hide your grimace of displeasure. "━ Footage." You've just about had enough of saying that word, and you've seen enough of said footage to last you a lifetime.

"Oh. That makes sense."

"What'd they ask you?"

Yuta's eyes flicker to yours, and then away, staring at the sky in shades of pink and purples like the cotton candy you've seen at carnivals. "Nothing much."

Even if Yuta doesn't want to talk about it, you can kind of guess what they've asked him; what was your relationship with Rika Orimoto, can you confirm that the curse has been lifted, is Rika Orimoto truly dead. All kinds of invasive, prying questions you're sure Yuta hadn't wanted to answer, but had probably been pressured into giving them the answers anyway.

"Ah, well. Maybe they're planning to give me a reward!" You say, trying in vain to lighten the mood.

It doesn't work. No one laughs.

Tough crowd, you think, wincing as Gojo swerves to avoid hitting a pedestrian. But you'll find out more tomorrow.

Yesterday, you'd been cautiously optimistic that you'd be able to breeze through the meeting unscathed, with both your dignity and your sanity intact. Now, you're not so sure, as you stand in front of eight shadows. Alone. Whenever the Elders conduct meetings, they use elaborate screens that reveal only their silhouettes, turning them into ambiguous black shadows. A tactic surely designed to instill fear and unease in whatever unfortunate Sorcerer they've decided to target.

Well. It's a good thing that you've been raised by Gojo.

You've never been particularly violent, but as you pick at the sleeves of your uniform, you're beginning to see the merit to Gojo's plan of killing them all off. Unfortunately, as Gojo's also pointed out, this won't solve the problem.

"So. Let me get this straight," You say, unable to hide the anger in your voice. "My loving, accepting family, who abandoned me at Jujutsu High as a weak and sick child, now want me back."

"You would dare ━"

You continue without pause. "And after I've been taken back home, I'm supposed to marry a guy Gojo's age."

"Many women would jump at the chance to marry someone as outstanding as Naoya Zenin." One of the Elders speaks up then, probably in an effort to silence you.

It doesn't work.

Your answering smile is tight and unflinching. There's a queasy, unsettling feeling consuming you. You draw in a breath of air, and hope that it will pass. "You could always let them have the honor."

"The preparations have already been made. Both families have already given their approval." Another elder waves his hand dismissively, as if already brushing you and your opinions aside with a sweep of his spider-like fingers.

"No." You say. Family. You turn the word over in your mind. Once upon a time, you'd been desperate for your biological family's approval. But now that they've come back for you, you find yourself thinking that you don't want them anymore. "You didn't ask my dad, or my younger brother, or my sister for their approval."

"What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Your father is perfectly aware of this arrangement, as we've already said."

Inhale. Exhale. Your voice waves, but it's clear. "I highly doubt that Gojo Satoru is aware of this so-called arrangement."

And ━ there. You've basically declared Gojo as your father, and rejected your biological family, in one breath, in one fell swoop. And all you can think is okay, as a feeling of rightness washes over you.

Not a movement from anyone behind the screens. You've said enough to paralyze them ━ probably giving several of them heart attacks in the process ━ and now, you're leaving. Several guards gape at you in shock when you push open the door, but none stop you as you walk out of the dark room.

As soon as you're out of the room, a weight eases up off your chest, like the atmosphere and pressure inside is different, heavier. It's even colder outside than it was before, a damp cold you can feel all the way down to your bones. Your uniform's been made of thicker fabric, and you've stolen Megumi's jacket to keep warm, but you're still shivering like a maniac and blowing on your hands so that some feeling will return to them.

"[NAME]!" Panda calls, and it's all the warning you get before a heavy mass of fur slams into you so that you're knocked backwards; the force of it drives you onto the floor where your head collides painfully with the tiles. "Oops."

You wheeze on your next words. "Thanks a lot, Panda."

Luckily, Panda's quick to roll off you once he's realized that you're not doing so well. Despite the throbbing of your legs and the daggers in the back of your head, you allow Yuta and Inumaki to pull you into a standing position.

"Mustard leaf?"

"[NAME]?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," You say, laughing and trying to ignore the bone-deep aching in your body. "I'd kill for a hot drink, though."

"Later," Maki says impatiently, and if your fingers and toes fall off from hypothermia, you'll be blaming her once you're carted back to the infirmary. She eyes you critically. "So? What'd they ask?"

Another interrogation. It almost makes you wish that you were back in that room with the Elders. Almost. At least throwing out a snarky retort had been enough to quiet some of them down, but you get the feeling that that won't work with Maki, who probably won't hesitate to fold you in half like a pizza for taking that attitude with her. "Uh. Well. Mostly questions about the attack at school, stuff about my technique?"

"That's all?"

"Looks like we worried for nothing."

"Salmon."

With their concerns assuaged, your friends walk off towards the training field, and while you try at first to keep up with them, your body immediately protests the fast pace, and you're forced to trail along behind them. Ah, well. At least the movement helps enough to keep the blood in your limbs flowing.

"It was insane," You say to them, but mostly to Yuta, who's slowed his pace enough so that you'll have company as you walk. "Can you believe that they wanted to marry me off to this schmuck called Naoya Zenin?"

There's a sharp intake of breath from Yuta. The color drains from his face as he watches you, and he looks so shaken up that you immediately regret telling him.

Maki screeches to a halt. Before you can so much as blink, she's facing you, and her fingers are digging into the tops of your shoulders. It hurts, and you open your mouth to tell her so, but it dawns on you then that Maki's face is unusually pale, and she actually looks afraid, which is beyond strange. "You said no, right?"

"Yeah?" You say slowly, as you try to figure out Maki's puzzling reaction to that name. It's so out of character for her, considering how her default expression is usually something along the lines of, I'm going to rip your head off. "You really think I would marry someone as old as my dad?"

Maki doesn't say anything, but the tense set to her mouth relaxes. It's not quite a smile, but it's close, and you take that as a sign of her relief.

"Besides, I already have someone I like." With the confession comes a hot flush of embarrassment, but you catch sight of the hopeful, nervous smile on Yuta's face and promptly decide that dying of embarrassment isn't so bad after all.

Even if you can't quite meet his eyes.

"Oh my god."

"Salmon."

"Would the two of you stop flirting!"