the sun and the sky | gojo satoru

a dedicated teacher

They exchanged phone numbers.

Perhaps it was a sign of something new, the beginning of a chapter.

Hina couldn't hold back a laugh as she read their texts:

Gojo Satoru: Let's meet up again
at the market

I wanna try all of the mochi they have to offer!!!!
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ

Nakano Hina: When?

Gojo Satoru: tomorrow? :p

Nakano Hina: I'm sorry Gojo-sama,
but I have work

Maybe another time? I'm
very sorry

Gojo Satoru: Then I'll just walk in
and kidnap you c:

Nakano Hina: Very funny, Gojo-sama

She chuckled, shaking her head. He wouldn't.

He would.

Books and agendas tucked under her arm, Hina stopped short just steps from her classroom door. She patted her apron down. To her surprise, there were other teachers huddled around the classroom door; and peeking through the windows.

Someone noticed her arrival; A young woman with blonde hair, around Hina's age. She was profusely sweating as she glanced up at Hina in a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Nakano, finally." She ushered Hina over, and the other teachers noticed her presence. Confused, Hina stepped slowly towards her fellow coworker, ignoring the hushed whispers of the other teachers.

Hina frowned. "What's . . . wrong?"

Someone tapped her shoulder. Another teacher, Fujiwara, pointed to the window. Hina followed his finger and peeked inside her classroom.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

Fujiwara sweated. "He was relentless, Nakano. Wouldn't give in when I told him he couldn't just waltz in here like he owned the place."

Hina blinked. How in the world—

There stood Gojo Satoru, in all his excessively vertical glory. He was a mountain, towering over her students as if they were clumps of grass. Some of the children hid under the tables, or behind the cubbies. Other ones—the braver batch—were crowded around his tall frame. A little boy was climbing him as if he was a vine, and the white-haired man peeled him off with a grimace, holding him by the back of his shirt as the boy hung in midair, swinging his limbs wildly.

Shimizu, the blonde woman, nudged her forearm with her elbow. "Hey now, if your boyfriend wants to visit you at work, he can. He just has to follow the rules, you know."

"Yeah, we have a protocol." A voice muttered.

Hina whipped her head around, facing Shimizu with creased eyebrows. "We are—We are nothing of the sort. He's just a . . ."

Hina paused. Just what was he to her?

She swallowed. "Someone I know." Hina murmured, blinking worriedly at the sight before her. Another child had attempted to climb Gojo like a tree, her chubby, small hand reaching for his blindfold. He seemed incredibly discontented. Good.

Shimizu raised a brow at her. "Uh-huh, yeah."

"Told you."

"Go dunk yourself in the ballpit, Fujiwara." Shimizu snapped.