The Waning (GojoHime) - Part 2

You think you know me but you don't

"Do not fear," Aunt Narumi's sly face took on a deceptively soft, caring look as she focused her attention on Utahime. "This is why you're here. Satoru will protect you."

Gojo noticed Utahime growing several shades paler upon realizing the magnitude of 'oh shit' she found herself in.

Yes, Satoru will, Gojo's inner voice dripped with sarcasm bordering on bitterness as he watched her expression shutter. Of course he will. And if he has to tie you up and lock you away, be assured he will.

Let's face it, it wasn't likely that Utahime would want to be protected by him. He doubted she would ever forgive him for deceiving her and her parents and for ultimately using her to draw out his enemies. Did it have it in him to force her to stay close to him?

The way she moved the spoon to her lips while continuing a conversation with his lively cousins was mechanical, the jerky movements of someone in shock. Before realizing why her parents were on a cruise, she would glance his way when she thought he wouldn't notice, perhaps questioning his intentions but not fully condemning him. Now, she went out of her way to ignore him completely.

It was better for both of them that she believed he had paid her "special attention" only as part of a devious masterplan. Now that her already unfavorable opinion of him had hit rock bottom, he should finally do the necessary and step away completely.

...Only that the very thought hurt like acid in his throat. It wasn't news to him that these feelings, whatever they were called, were considered a weakness. She might be safe for now, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't successfully use her against him in the future. Honestly, he wasn't sure what he would do if it came down to choosing between her and "the right thing", but he knew that any choice would be disastrous.

How beautiful Utahime looked in the blue silk kimono, her slightly disheveled hair framing her pink hued cheeks, her lips luscious and red. Was she wearing the underwear he had given her? The mere thought of unwrapping her slowly to reveal the scandalous lingerie made Gojo harden and he shifted uncomfortably on his zaisu chair, feeling a rush of self-pity at the pointlessness of his bodily reaction.

It wasn't likely she would let him near her again soon, if ever.

"You should eat something, Satoru."

His aunt managed to look concerned for him now, pushing a plate full of pretty food his way. He shook his head, having lost his appetite on 24th December. For good.

Every waking moment, the weight of his actions pressed upon him like a leaden shroud, each breath a struggle against the ache in his chest. The world around him had lost its luster, its vibrancy drained away by the shadow that now enveloped his every thought. In the dim light of his solitude, he saw only bleakness stretching out before him, an endless expanse of desolation and despair.

The only thing that shone in the dark was Utahime.

She looked up towards him, but Gojo couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes, so he averted his gaze. It wasn't the time to wallow in misery, yet he couldn't help but feel betrayed by life, betrayed by his own delusions. He had taken what he could get from her, selfishly, by keeping the truth from her as long as possible. Her body couldn't lie; she had enjoyed being intimate with him. But her heart would never beat for him.

"Cousin, will we leave for hatsumode immediately after breakfast?" Ayumi asked, pushing her plate away from herself with a satisfied sigh.

"Are you that eager to pray?" Her sister Ema chuckled, nudging her in the ribs.

"No, I just need to know whether I can fit in a digestive nap or not," Ayumi quipped back.

"We'll leave in half an hour," Gojo nodded. Michizane Sugawara was not an easy ancestor to have, pleasing him took its toll. "Be sure to bring enough omamori, he won't readily forgive that you haven't paid him any reverence in ages."