the sun in the sky | gojo satoru ✔

i have grown fond of you

"A little birdie told me that you and Young- master Gojo have been becoming quite close."

A dim room. A burning, small candlelight. Hina has not been in an environment like this for a while.

Her breathing was hushed.

"Answer me now, truthfully, girl." Akiyama- san 's kimono was the same as it is always been—a pattern of yellow and purple flowers lacing together. "Is that right?"

Hina kept her gaze low. "Yes, Akiyama- san."

"And would you," she paused, "would you say that he is fond of you?"

Her eyes slightly widened. "I-I do not know, Akiyama- san."

"You do not know? Don't make me laugh." She snarled, her kimono shown in the limelight. "The answer is simple, girl."

Hina, in all honesty, did not know how to answer. Was he fond of her? Maybe. When she recalled his actions towards her, that was the only answer she could come up with. That, or she could be too arrogant into thinking so. Perhaps he was using her, using her just for his own amusement—which was acceptable, which was fine, because he is Gojo Satoru, he is the clan heir—

Hina's breath shook.

Why did her chest feel like it was being stabbed, again and again a million times at the thought?

"N-No." She could not let herself be complacent, especially in front of Akiyama- san. "Of course not. He . . He is just using me for his own amusement."

She remembered the mochi. A glimpse of the childlike expression on his face when he first tried it.

"I . . I am just a maid. A tool, nothing more to him."

You should take more time to rest, rather than stealing in the crack of dawn.

"I am just fulfilling my duty."

The small, flickering, warm candlelight. His gaze. His stare. His sparkling blue eyes.

Another flicker.

Akiyama- san seemed to be pleased at this answer. "And you? Have you grown fond of him, child?"

Your name will be Hina.

Her lips parted, about to speak. She knew the answer. She knew what she should answer.

"No, I have not."

You are human. You can think. You can feel.

She was a liar.

"I see." Akiyama- san's voice was cold, her elderly age noticeable in the tone. She turned around, facing Hina from the other side of the room.

Hina refused to look up.

"Then was it enjoyable, allowing him to do things for you?"

Her eyes widened, trembling.

"I-I'm sorry?" A frightened, confused whisper.

"Was it worthwhile, fun, perhaps, allowing him to tell you stories? Asking him? Talking to him as if he was someone to take lightly?"

Now, Hina understood where this was coming from.

If it is okay, please show me more stories in the future.

The other maid had heard.

Akiyama- san didn't know the whole truth.

"A-Akiyama- san, I-I can explain—!"