the sun in the sky | gojo satoru ✔

the delight of being your own

Having a name made her feel like a new person.

She savored in it. It made her want to dance even though she didn't know how to dance. It made her want to laugh, even though she couldn't remember the last time she ever did laugh.

But having a name made her unexplainably happy. That was the word for it, right? Happy. Happy-ness. Happiness.

This was perhaps the first time she had ever acknowledged her happiness. She repeated her name in her head like a prayer, a mantra: Hina, Hina, Hina, Hina, Hina, Hina—

"Hina."

It felt strange, yet refreshing to hear someone else say her name, rather than only herself. Over the nights after the Young master had given her the name, she spoke ever so quietly to herself—just to give herself an excuse to hear her name out loud. She whispered it to herself at night before she slept, and sometimes gave herself commands as she swept the garden.

She loved it. She loved it, she loved it, she loved it.

Her small hands poured tea for the white-haired boy, ribbons of smoke twirling through the air. The tea smelled sweet. Her lips parted, rather excitedly, "Yes, Young master?"

He did not call her 'You' anymore.

That also made her happy. It was a selfish thought, one she knew she should not have.

She was taken aback when he held the book out for her to take. Hina's eyes stared at it as if it was some sort of ancient relic.

"Read to me. From the marked page."

Her happiness immediately ceased. It was the same one, same design—same words she could not read. Again, the same regretful feeling—the same one as the one she felt whenever she couldn't give him her name, came flooding in.

That puzzled her. She was regretful that she could not fulfill his request, rather than terrified about the fact that she couldn't. She wasn't terrified that because she couldn't, she might get punished.

She didn't fear being punished, when she was around him.

Something was wrong with that thought.

"I am sorry, Young master." She noticed the lack of stutter in her voice. "But I am afraid I cannot read."

Fear him.

But at the moment, she didn't. She was unable to fulfill his request, and that should terrify her to her very core—and yet, here she sat. Remorseful, not frightened.

"Eh? Seriously?" She didn't feel fear from his tone. She heard disappointment, yes—but it didn't scare her. It only made her more remorseful.

She nodded, smiling sadly. "I'm afraid so, Young master."

"You cannot or you will not?"

Again, no fear. It really puzzled her. "I cannot, Young master. I never learned how to do so. I am not able to read a single word in that book."

Her eyes found her hands. They looked relaxed as they rested in her lap. She wasn't trembling.

She just felt sad. "I am sorry."

She felt his intense gaze on her as he spoke, after those few beats of silence. "Well that's just unfortunate." He placed the book back on the wooden table.

She only smiled at the remark.

"Then, what can you do?"

Gojo Satoru always seemed to ask the most puzzling of questions, say the most oddest of things.