The dying song

Chapter XI: Let us have our own miracle. Let us keep our own spark of life.

2017.

Satoru. Utahime.

It was already January 6th when she got ready to get back to her duties as a teacher.

Principal Gakuganji had accepted her again at Kyoto High right at the start of the third and final term of the school year, confessing that since she left, their students hadn't been quite the same. She was always an invaluable member of the sorcery school; her teaching methods, her patience, and her love for her students were totally irreplaceable. Back then, her resignation letter and sudden departure surprised the principal, but he let her know that she was always welcome and didn't hesitate to hire her again, willing to face the higher-ups. At least in this, he and Gojo would back each other up if they had to, just for her sake.

She felt uneasy as she looked at herself through the mirror, wrapping and folding the layers of her nagajuban and the kimono with Satoru's help before putting on her beloved red hakama. She had kept her traditional uniform locked up for years, and now that she was wearing it again, it felt dreamlike and surreal.

"Ready?" He asked, looking at her through their reflection. His hands were already tying the white ribbon in her hair. She shook her head.

"Not really."

"Me neither." A warm smile crossed his lips as he finished his task, the ribbon embellishing her dark hair elegantly.

"What is it to you anyway? I'm the one who's coming back to school after three years."

He let out a throaty laugh while kissing her hair.

"Technically, I resigned, so I'm coming back too. And I'm not ready for you to leave me again."

"I'm not leaving you," She cleared up, smoothing down the hakama with socks already on. "I'll be back here every weekend, unless any mishap happens."

With a glass of sugary milk in hand, Gojo got closer again, leaving a hand on her hip.

"Are you sure you won't run away this time?"

Witnessing the ghost of an old, deep, and buried fear in the reflection of his blue eyes, Utahime smiled, turning around to face him until her hands could reach his face and cup it tenderly.

"I promised you I wouldn't, Satoru. Besides, Kyoto is just three hours away, and you can visit me anytime." She let go of him to finish her primping.

"Can I?" His eyes sparkled with childlike expectation, making her chuckle. She was finally done, except for her boots, which were already waiting for her in the genkan, along with his.

"You can. Just don't do it during my duty hours, okay?"

"I can't promise that. I love creeping up on you."

"Gojo, if you do that, I swear I'll cut your throat."

"Damn. Don't threaten me, Utahime, or we won't leave this place. You know it gives me a boner."

"Shut up!"

He left before she could smack him, gulping down the whole milk. He left the glass on the marble counter, took the lead on their way to the elevator, and stopped, pushing the button to open it.

As they waited and put their shoes on, he glanced at her, took her hand, and kissed the back of it.

"You look really beautiful, Uta."

His voice was so melodic, heartfelt, and captivating that she almost wept and ruined her subtle makeup.

"Thank you. You look handsome, too."