the sun and the sky | gojo satoru

the thought of missing

It was snowing.

What a beautiful thing snow was, Hina thought, drumming her fingers on her desk. A lot more calming than rain, at least. Very beautiful.

Like the color of his hair.

Hina sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Enough, she told herself. Enough of that. It didn't seem like he was going to come back anytime soon. There were no text messages sent, no calls, no emails, no knocks on her door. Wherever Gojo was, Hina didn't feel it was right to contact him.

And wherever he was, Hina knew one thing for sure—he wasn't very happy with her.

Hina pursed her lips, kicking her heel against the leg of her chair.

It's not like she was very happy with him either.

"Hey," Someone came up behind her, tapping her shoulder. Hina flinched, whipping around in her chair. Her eyes landed on Shimizu, who frowned at her confusedly. "Stop doing that."

Hina frowned at her. "Doing what?"

Her question seemed to make Shimizu even more agitated. "That!" She barked. "That thing, that weird thing you do whenever you—well, I don't really know what you're doing! You're dragging the mood in here, you know? You're making me all tense, like something bad is gonna happen. Don't give me wrinkles, Nakano-chan. I haven't reached my midlife crisis yet."

Hina was taken aback. "Ah," she nodded. "I'm sorry, just thinking...about something."

"Okay, well don't do it here." Shimizu snapped at her. "Just don't do it—okay, you can contemplate your life problems as much as you want, but don't...—don't do it like that. Darling stop it, you're doing it again."

"Right." Hina cleared her throat, blinking herself back into her senses.

"Anyway," Shimizu crossed her arms, leaning onto one side. "As I was saying—Hina, you better be listening—I just feel like no one respects me anymore."

"Oh dear, what a predicament we have here." Fujiwara scoffed, his eyes still glued to his computer screen.

"Shush now," Shimizu bit back, placing her hands on her hips. "I just feel like my students aren't taking me seriously anymore, you know? Is that what age does to you? I'm just over thirty, I'm not like a grandma—"

"They're kids." Imai commented boredly, chewing on a piece of gum. "As much as we love them, you really shouldn't give a shit about them respecting you enough. Because, well, they do respect you enough, don't they?"

Shimizu squirmed. "Well—"

"Some student told Shimizu-san that her blouse was the same as their grandma's." Kikuchi cut in, his voice quiet but noticeable. "That's why she's so concerned. She shouldn't be, in my opinion, but I would understand why she would have such a concern—I mean, I'm not agreeing or anything, because there's nothing to really agree with—"

Shimizu shot her eyes towards Kikuchi, who immediately stopped his rambling, swallowing nervously. "At least, that's what I...heard."

"Yeah, because I told you that, dear Kikuchi-kun." Shimizu sneered.

"You gotta stop associating your age with every little thing you hear." Imai said, leaning back into her chair.

"Easy for you to say—"

"Oh shut up, I'm almost thirty." Imai shot back. "Only three years to go. And guess what? I'm not afraid. Not at all. Thirty's still young to me. Well, not to my parents—they want me to get married—but to me, I'm fine with it. We've been over this., It's just a number."