I throw my bag onto the ground, causing an echo to sing off the stone walls. I pace back and forth, shaking my head enough to make some curls veil my eyes. When my face starts heating up, I sit down, covering it with my bare hands.
"What is so special about me that brings every sorcerer and their father after me!?" I ask nobody in particular. "What part of leave me alone do folks not understand?"
My ranting is cut short when low breaths tickle my ears. I turn my bloodshot eyes toward Satoru. His head cocks to the left, making his sunglasses shift. He walks over to the green bag, slowly squatting to pick it up. I shake my head and hold out a hand, signaling for him not to come near me with it. He furrows his brow.
"Open it." I point to the top zipper. I slowly stand up, taking a deep inhale.
When he pulls out the doll, his pupils slowly dilate. I shake my head at his accusatory look.
"It is not mine." I feel my face heating up again. "I found it in a public restroom."
I sound like a five-year-old whining for attention. The high-pitchiness of my voice does not help either. Today sucks.
Satoru snaps his head sideways. His eyes scan the area where the sorcerer once stood.
"Who were you talking with?" He looks at me point-blank.
"I don't know! A new stalker." I hang my head low, folding my hands over each other. "A family member I have never met! God, get that effing doll away from me!"
I jump around in circles before walking through the school gate.
I scan the grounds, seeing a few people muddling about. Satoru walks up behind me, pointing a finger at the building on the far left. We pick up our pace, jogging to the library. Both of us slow down, catching our breath, before walking inside.
We just missed him!
As if reading my mind, Satoru gestures for me to follow him. We walk through the shelves, out the backdoor, and toward a two-story adjunct building. Its stone facade reminds me of the buildings in Quebec. Then we spot Grandpa Gojo walking to the back door. I am about to break into a run when Satoru stops me.
"What gives?"
"Look for yourself." He points to the upstairs study. I squint my eyes, noticing two silhouettes against the backdrop.
Too late. The older Gojo looks at us right as the door opens. His eyes shift between us and the person holding the door. With a quick shake of his head, he disappears.
I continue forward, stopping short of the front door. Satoru stands next to me.
"What is this place?" I ask.
Silence.
I slowly walk through the gate, fist ready to pound the door. When I step onto the porch, the door opens by itself. I look into the long hallway, waiting for something to appear. Nothing.
"Go on. We don't have all day." The undertones in Satoru's words make me scowl. He ignores me, walking inside.
He heads string for the winding staircase. I quicken my pace, trailing behind him. Roughly halfway upstairs, I am hit with deja vu.
"This way." Satoru waves me to the right.
Satoru stands in front of the door, knocking it twice. I pick up my pace, feeling the hairs on my arms stand up. As the door opens, nobody is there to greet us.
"You might as well come inside." A voice says from the dark room.
Satoru steps aside, letting me walk past him. The door closes silently.
When I pull the blood-red curtain apart, a cascade of sunlight swims over my eyes. I cover my face instinctively. A slight nudge forces me into the room.
"You followed me up here?" Satoru's grandfather asks in a flat tone. "Can I offer you a drink?"
"Santa-Clara and Gojo?" I open my eyes, noticing Yaga sitting by the window.
"Nope, I am not thirsty. You want anything?" Satoru walks past me as I shake my head.
My eyes dart around the room, searching for the third person. Then I see a blanket resting on the back of a chair. I point at it, wondering why I mistook it for a human.
"What brings you two here?" Yaga asks, folding his arms across his chest.
I flip the green envelope in my palms, summoning the strength to talk. After a few seconds, I take a deep breath in and out.
"I want answers." The words spill out of my mouth as I toss the green envelope on the table.
I shift my weight onto my left leg, placing a hand on either hip. The adults look at the table and then at me. They look at each other; Yaga raises an eyebrow while Grandpa Gojo raises a palm to the sky. Grandpa Gojo picks up the envelope. His eyebrows kiss together...his breath hitches in his chest. My eyes roll to the ceiling while I take a seat.
"Where did you get this?" Grandpa Gojo asks in a delicate, non-judgmental tone.
Mine as well prod for information.
"I take it you have seen envelopes like this before?" I ask casually. "Like the blue ones you left me at Disneyland."
Grandpa Gojo sinks back into his chair. His mouth forms a tight line. His flipping of the envelope speaks volumes. Then he looks at me.
"Kindly answer my question."
"Someone who was following me earlier left it. They have grey-green eyes and a distinctive bird tattoo." I mirror Grandpa's body language, placing my palms on my lap. I tilt my head slightly to the right.
"Did this person...hurt you?" Yaga chimes in.
"No." I face my instructor for a split second before turning my gaze back to Gojo. "Who has been sending you envelopes?"
A cloud passes over the sun, creating a shadow over his dark-blue eyes. He moves his lips to the left before saying, "It is not safe to talk here."
I close my eyes and lean back into the chair. Then I break out into a low giggle.
"And what is so funny?" Yaga asks.
"Is it ever a safe place to talk? Will it ever be safe to talk about the person Jujutsu Tech is hunting for? Or should I say, people!"
I throw my hands in front of me. "Whenever I ask about my dad, I hit a brick wall. What are you two hiding from me? Did you all make a binding vow to look after me? Does this secrecy have to do with me being revived eight years ago?"
Neither adult says a word as I ramble off questions. Every time I open my mouth, I feel my face twitch. By the time I am finished, I am standing up, breathing heavily.
"You both know more than you are letting on." I point a finger between Yaga and Grandpa. "I don't know if your lack of disclosure stems from fear, uncertainty, or something else...but it hurts. Being kept in the dark and constantly disappointed when people offer to help."
I drop my hands to my sides and sidestep a hand reaching for my shoulder.
"At least find out who is following me and Simon. I am sure you can do that!" I turn on my heels and damn near slam the door.
Campus Reflective Pond
I peer into the water, its tranquility disrupted when the fish come up for air. The shrubberies are thick enough to rival a snowstorm. After ensuring nothing is around, I submit to the grass. Its earthy smells penetrate my nose. Its gentleness cocoons my body.
"I know you are alive! When are you coming back?" My words float on the gentle breeze. "I understand people protect others in different ways...but...." Salty fluid streams down my face and I bite my lower lip. "I can't accept the distance. I can't bring my heart or soul the closure they desire...and I hate it!"
When a light shadow blankets my face, I open my eyes. I tip my head back, catching a tall figure lurking in the shadows. It slowly approaches, sitting a respectable distance away from me. The giant pierced ears move north as a smile crosses Suguru's face. I turn my eyes away, looking at the pond while sitting up.
"Bad timing?" He lets out a small laugh. "Satoru should be joining us in a few minutes. Want to talk?"
I keep my eyes focused in front of me...blinking a few times when they fog up. Suguru stays still, never filling the silence with small talk. A furry creature crawls into my palm, prompting me to stroke it.
"I asked Yaga and Satoru's grandpa for information regarding my father. They kept their mouths shut." The mouse nudges my finger with its nose, prompting me to continue. "It is like they want to help me, but it is not the type of help I seek. I want answers and get crickets in return. I want closure and get blue envelopes."
As the mouse scurries off, I curl my knees into my chest, resting my chin on my knuckles. The grass wrestles, making me shift my eyes.
"It seems you are dealing with a lot." Suguru stretches his legs out and places his hands behind his hips for support. "And you are doing the best you can."
I tighten the grip on my knees while he continues his speech. "I also thought it was funny when you punched Naoya the other day. He needed the humbling."
I tip my head to the right, pushing my lips to the left. My gaze looks past his right shoulder as his brown orbs lock onto my forehead. A casual grin falls onto his face, making me let out a slow breath. Neither of us utters a word yet, it feels like we hold a five-minute-long conversation within a few seconds.
Back Inside the House
"Grandpa, Santa-Clara found this." Satoru procures the doll from my bag. A scowl forms on his face.
The older Gojo shakes his head left then right while peeling his eyes from the window. He opens the green envelope, scanning the signature while sitting down. When he sees the stitched face, he nearly falls to the ground.
"Put it over there." He points to a dark corner of the room. A knock on the door prompts him to stuff the envelope under his seat.
Satoru takes a few steps to the right, placing the doll out of sight. When he gets back to table, he looks at his grandfather. The elder's eyes are glued to the table. His mind, stuck in another place and time.
"Who is it from?" Satoru asks while pointing at the green paper.
His grandpa purses his lips and remains silent. When his grandson starts taping his foot, the elder is snapped back into reality. He turns his head, locking eyes with an impatient teenager.
"Well?" Satoru holds out a hand while taking a seat.
"Someone I have not heard from in years." He looks out the window. "An individual whom I owe an apology."
"Jorgen?" The instructor asks.
The older Gojo's head moves left then right. His eyes glaze over the words one last time.
Harurun,
Forgive my lack of communication, however, things got a bit dicey when we last communicated. I assume you have met Lithuila and are keeping her safe. Word has gotten out that a certain group of sorcerers is searching for missing fingers. We both know who I am talking about. My guess is half of said fingers are still missing. Try and keep Lithuila out of this mess until we meet in person. Much appreciation.
-GC
"So why are you ignoring Santa-Clara?" Satoru spits out.
His grandfather tightens his lips.
Back by The Pond
"I appreciate the support." My arms reach for the sky and a deep yawn escapes my lips.
He gives me a gentle smile in return. "What else is bothering you?"
I close my eyes and giggle slightly. "I am being followed again." I pause to read Suguru's reaction. One of his brows raises to the sky, nothing comes out of his mouth. "This person felt different."
"How so?" His brow relaxes and his tone stays even. I fan my fingers out, letting the tips touch each other.
"The person felt familiar...almost like a family member of sorts. I have never seen them until today but, they did not inflict harm to my person. Unlike the other times I have been followed." My eyes drift away from Suguru's and rest on the grass. I grasp my wrists, pushing my forearms against my shins.
A heaviness fills the air, causing me to shift my weight.
Back at the House
"Are you going to answer me or not?" The teenager asks, throwing both hands in front of him.
The question is met with a direct look.
"We have not heard from Santa-Clara's father in several months. Let alone seen him." Yaga states. "How does Santa-Clara know he is alive?"
"She saw him, allegedly, during the exchange event." Satoru ruffles his hair, trying to squeeze information out of his grandfather. "What can you two say about Simon?"
Yaga adjusts his glasses and furrows his brow. His head tilts to the left while he scratches his goatee. Satoru's grandfather looks at his grandson.
"Huh? What about him?" The elder asks.
I thought the old guy kept in close contact with Gakuganji and the Higher Ups. Would not surprise me if they enrolled Simon on a whim. What a pain in the butt!
The younger Gojo crosses one leg over the other, sits back in his chair, and looks at the ceiling. A small sigh escapes his lips, followed by a terse grunt.