the sun and the sky | gojo satoru

reunion

He was quite tall, to say the least.

He has to be at least six feet, Hina thought, allowing her mind to wander and play at the thought as she eyed the tall man. He had already been tall for his age when he was a ten-year-old boy. During Hina's childhood, her head had always reached the base of his neck.

She was staring.

And in doing so, it brought back flush-inducing memories of all the times she did stare at his mesmerizing form when she was a child.

And oh goodness, she was staring.

Hina blinked, finally being sensible enough to recollect her words. But she spluttered over them, like tripping over her own shoelaces.

"Uh . . I—" Hina tightened her grip on her daifuku bag, suddenly uncomposed and stuttering, just as she did when she was a child.

She couldn't walk away now, could she? The inevitable had happened, really happened.

Don't be scared, she mentally reminded herself, gulping down the lump down her throat.

He still stood there.

Okay, she internally sweated, how can I not be scared? Even more so, how can I not be nervous? Will he say anything? And then, an insistent, almost ambitious voice whispered, Just do it, just do it, just do it.

It'll be fine.

She breathed in slowly. "Young . . ." She hesitated, voice small yet hopefully loud enough for him to hear. She swallowed again, forcing the title out of her.

"Young master."

It felt light on her tongue, saying such a title again after so long. Like a rhythm she hadn't found in years.

It nerved her—to have absolutely no reaction from the blindfolded man. A terrible, embarrassing thought trickled down the walls of her mind, what if he wasn't Gojo Satoru? She didn't think she was wrong, but still—What if he was just some random stranger, who was just expecting a regular apology?

She felt trepidation anxiety dread stir in her stomach.

She cleared her throat, "Forgive me, I should have watched where I was going." Casting her eyes away from the dips of the blindfold where she assumed his eyes were, she fluttered her gaze down below, bowing quickly before rushing herself out of the scene. The world resumed its play, and that ambitious (now stupid ) voice snarled idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot—

"Hina."

She halted in her tracks. She had only walked a mere few steps away before his voice grabbed her back, willing her to stop. She felt the world around her stop once more.

His voice was different from how it was all those years ago, yet Hina had no doubt in her mind that it was him.

The way he said her name was still the same. Unchanging.

Hina slowly turned herself back around, her eyes flickering back to him. His eyelids, noticeably traced from the white bandages he was wearing around his head. His head was veered in her direction, staring right back at her. With unrelenting certainty, she slowly advanced towards him, watching as he carefully spun on his heel, turning his entire body in her direction. Once again, they stood in front of each other, taking in the other's presence as a whole.

She tilted her head to the side. "Young mas . . . no," Hina paused, before testing out a new title, "Gojo-sama."

It tasted weird and foreign, as if it didn't belong there, as if it had no place on her tongue. But he wasn't "Young master" anymore—he wasn't the same child she knew seventeen years ago—he had grown up, and he had grown stronger. No other title would fit him.