Star-Crossed Rivals

Revelation

The silk fabric of Utahime's scarf tugged at her neck. She rolled her shoulders, shaking off the discomfort. Her jaw ached, a purple bruise already having formed over the bone. It had taken two layers of foundation, concealer, and fixing powder to shield the sight from onlookers.

Utahime shook her head, chasing away the memory of her attack earlier in the day. She wouldn't let anything ruin this. She plastered on an amiable expression and pulled open the double doors of the Florilège.

Within its dark, warmly lit interior lay the fanciest restaurant she'd ever seen. A low, polite chatter rose from the dining guests, who themselves looked to be from the most elite circles of Tokyo. Women wore floor-length dresses in brilliant colors, many of them sporting red bottoms and designer bags. In the far corner of the room, couples danced slowly to classical music on a small dance floor.

Dressed in a tight-fitting, backless gown with a matching scarlet scarf, Utahime let out a sigh of relief. She wasn't overdressed.

The hostess approached her. "Welcome to the Florilège. Do you have a reservation?"

"Oh, yes. It's–"

"Utahime! There you are. She's with me, ma'am."

A steady hand came to rest on the small of her waist. As Gojo guided her to his table, Utahime's breath caught in her throat. They had never stood this close before. Even in her heels, his six-foot three frame towered over her smaller form. He pulled out her chair and sat at the opposite end of the table, where a flower arrangement and a small candle served as the centerpieces.

Gojo flashed that easy-going, confident smile she'd fallen for from day one. "You look gorgeous, Utahime. But, then again, you always do."

Her cheeks flushed. More so than any man she'd ever met, Gojo's words affected her physically; they sent spirals of nerves playing down her spine, and she treasured every moment of it. "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself." That was an understatement. In his crisp black suit and burgundy tie, he looked straight out of Vogue magazine. "This is quite the restaurant you chose for a first date."

"For you, I wanted only the best." Gojo winked and leaned over the table. At his proximity, Utahime watched candlelight flickering and swirling in his brilliant eyes. They truly were mesmerizing, like aquamarine gemstones animated to life. So why did they suddenly unsettle her?

A prim-looking man in his forties appeared at their table. "Can I get you two something to drink?"

With a passing look at the menu, Gojo pointed to his choice. "I'll take some Pinot Gris by the glass, please."

"I'd like the same, thank you." Utahime said. When Gojo raised his brow, she covered her mouth and laughed politely. "What? I trust your judgement."

"Do you? Why do I sense sarcasm?"

Utahime rested her hand on the table, a playful glint sparkling in her eyes. "You know, I just would've thought you were a Cabernet Sauvignon kind of guy. Or maybe Hennessy. But white wine? I'm shocked."

"Oh, is that so? Well, Utahime," Gojo reached out his hand and glided his fingers over hers. Her mind fogged at his touch. "I would hate to not live up to your expectations. I'll order something more manly next time."

"No, no, please. Don't change on my account." Utahime chuckled. "I like you just the way you are."

The server returned with their wine. Gojo lifted his glass and clinked it against hers, watching as she raised it to her lips to take a sip.

"I hope it's to your liking."

The Pinot Gris' light, citrusy flavor turned ashen in her mouth. Her throat burned and she tipped her head forward to swallow. "Sorry?"