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Chapter 1: Useless Miwa
Useless. Useless. Useless. It thudded in her ears along with her footsteps as she dashed through the main gate. Useless . She rounded the corner and skidded to a halt in front of the tea shop, nearly crashing into a white-haired boy in what looked like a Tokyo High uniform.
“Sorry!” She gasped out, “Could I just — just jump ahead of you in line? My principal sent me for tea, and -“
The boy was already nodding, and he motioned her ahead of him. Miwa bowed and turned to the shopkeeper. She ordered for the principal and got herself a cup too. I could use it, to get my head on straight. I can’t believe I really met Gojo Satoru in the flesh!
She pulled the picture back up on her phone and beamed at it. From behind her, she heard a cough that might have been a laugh. She whirled to face the white-haired boy.
“Were you laughing at me?”
He shook his head solemnly and Miwa tipped her head to one side, considering him. He was a bit taller than her, but not by much, and looked fairly athletic from what she could see — not that the Tokyo High uniforms gave much away. He might even be cute, she decided, even though she could barely see his face, covered as it was by the collar of his uniform and his shaggy hair.
“Not one for a lot of words, huh?” She asked. The corners of his eyes crinkled in what might have been a smile, and he shook his head silently again.
“Six hundred yen,” the shopkeeper said behind her. She turned and reached for her wallet as he pushed the steaming cups across the counter towards her.
Oh no. She hadn’t brought a purse, and her wallet wasn’t in her jacket pocket. Oh no, oh no! I must have left it somewhere! Useless, useless, useless.
Her distress must have shown on her face; a hand landed gently on her shoulder and she looked up to see the white-haired boy. He nodded to the shopkeeper and gestured to the cups, then to himself. The man filled another cup before passing all three across the counter.
Miwa couldn’t stop mumbling her thanks as they left the shop, and her cheeks wouldn’t stop burning from embarrassment. But at least now she wouldn’t have to go face the principal, without his tea, for the second time.
“Thank you so much,” she said again when they reached the main building. “I’m Miwa, by the way. Miwa Kasumi. From the Kyoto school.” She bowed; when she straightened, the boy’s violet eyes met hers. Her breath caught in her throat at the depth of them, their color, framed by long lashes as pale as his hair. She’d never seen eyes quite like that before.
“Inumaki Toge,” he said. And then he turned and was gone.
****
Miwa only half-listened to the pre-event briefing. She didn’t feel too good about killing some kid just because he’d had the misfortune to swallow a piece of a curse — even if that was a super gross thing to do — but she wasn’t about to argue. If the principal and Kamo and Mai all thought it was for the best, it probably was. For the rest of the event, all she had to do was exorcise a few curses, or just stay out of the way. That, she could do.
****
“Useless Miwa here,” she answered cheerily when Mechamaru called.
“Sleep.” The rich, dark voice that came over the phone was somehow familiar, yet foreign. Miwa knew she had heard it somewhere before. Just before she passed out, she thought of a quiet, white-haired boy, and three steaming cups of tea.
Chapter 2: Onigiri
“Inumaki, right?”
He nodded, and she plopped down next to him in the shade. The others were gathered around Itadori after his big home run, laughing and slapping him on the back. Although their school had lost, Todo was celebrating too — he picked Yuuji right up and hoisted him onto one shoulder, cheering loudly about his “brother’s” strength. Miwa rolled her eyes and darted a glance at the white-haired boy. He watched the others carry on with no hint of expression on his face — what she could see of it, anyway — but she thought she felt a certain contentedness coming from him.
“They say you’re a cursed speech user,” she said. ‘You’re the one who knocked me out the other day, aren’t you?”
“Shake.”
Miwa thought a slight touch of pink rose to his pale cheeks above his collar. Salmon? What —
“Oh!” She giggled. “So you only use certain words, right? And shake is kind of like — like yes?”
His violet eyes widened under his bangs.
“Tsuna,” he said under his breath.
Miwa met his eyes and considered him for a long moment.
“Don’t be so surprised,” she said, and his head jerked backwards. His violet eyes were intense on hers. “My little brother is like you, kind of,” she continued, “he doesn’t really talk much. I’m used to it.”
Inumaki ran one hand through his hair, pushing it back off of his forehead. His eyebrows furrowed together like he was thinking hard. Miwa reached out and took one of his hands in hers. She was surprised at her own boldness, but he didn’t pull away.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You can say a lot without words, you know.”
“Tsunamayo.”
That one was a little harder for her to interpret, but it seemed positive. He shifted his hand and laced his fingers through hers.
“Tsunamayo,” he insisted, and she saw her own puzzled face reflected in his eyes.
“Hmm,” she said. “I’m struggling with that one a little. But I’ll get there!”
He pulled their clasped hands up between their eyes.
“Tsu-na-ma-yo,” he said slowly, emphasizing each syllable.
“Oh! Oh.” Miwa felt the heat rising to her cheeks. “Yeah. I — I think you’re nice, too. You really saved my butt at the tea shop the other day.”
“Shake.” He looked pleased, and he tugged her a bit closer. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the others and enjoying the breeze rustling the branches overhead. Miwa didn’t remember the last time she’d gotten to just sit in silence with someone, other than when she was at home. The other sorcerers just loved to talk. Most of them loved to hear themselves talk, more than anything. It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t so full of himself. Or maybe he is , she laughed to herself, but he just can’t tell anyone about how great he thinks he is! But somehow — she looked up at him, his head tilted back against the tree bark, eyes closed, the wind ruffling his hair — somehow, she didn’t think that was the case.
Chapter 3: A Date
<What are you doing tonight?>
Miwa smiled down at her phone. She still couldn’t believe he’d asked for her number, but she was glad that he had. He had texted her a few times in the past couple of weeks, but she hadn’t seen him since the exchange event.
<Nothing, why?>
<I’m in Kyoto. Just finishing up an assignment. Not sure why they didn’t send someone from your school instead, but 🤷🏼>
Before she could reply, he sent another message.
<I’d like to take you out, if that’s okay>
<Double texting? What a chatty guy you are> she teased him. Then, <Of course, I’d love to.>
****
Miwa saw him before he saw her, his bright white hair standing out in the crowded street. He had forgone his usual uniform in favor of dark jeans and a light, camel-colored sweater that hugged his upper arms and shoulders. Instead of his usual high collar, he’d donned a face mask that looped over his ears — the tan, black, and red plaid pattern looked familiar, but Miwa couldn’t quite remember where she’d seen it before. He fit right in to the crowd around them, and yet she couldn’t quite seem to notice anyone else.
His violet eyes scanned the crowd as he approached the restaurant, and then they landed on her.
“Sujiko!” He called out. Several people looked at him in confusion, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes darted over Miwa, the corners crinkling up. She hadn’t heard ‘sujiko’ before, but he sounded delighted, so she figured it was a compliment. She was glad that she had changed, too, instead of wearing her usual dark suit.
Miwa impulsively folded him into a hug and after a moment’s hesitation, he hugged her back. She couldn’t help but nuzzle a little into the soft cashmere of his sweater, enjoying the contrast with the firm muscle beneath. His arms were strong around her, but careful, as if he thought she was a delicate, breakable thing. It was nice, that someone thought she might want to be held that way. That she might be wanted, and not useless.
“You look great,” she said when she pulled away, and a flush rose to his cheeks over his mask. He shook his head and gestured to her dress.
“Ikura,” he said firmly. “Tsuna.”
Miwa felt her cheeks flame red. The look in his eyes and his rich voice made her feel giddy. She reached up and trailed her fingers along the portion of his cheekbone that showed above the edge of his mask, enjoying the light pink flush that bloomed in their wake. When she reached his ear, she curled her fingers around it and rubbed the lobe with her thumb.
“You’re so cute, Toge,” she whispered. “You’re like the sweetest boy I’ve ever met.”
He laughed, but he didn’t say anything until they were seated at a table in a cozy corner of the restaurant.
“Okaka,” he said under the noise of the other diners. “Tsuna- uh- tsunamayo.” He mimed talking with one hand, then gestured to himself and stopped. Miwa giggled.
“You’re probably right,” she laughed. “Most boys get themselves into trouble because they talk so much.”
He laughed again and walked two fingers from her wrist up her arm to her shoulder, then brushed a few strands of hair off her neck.
“Sujiko,” he murmured. Heat flushed up Miwa’s neck and into her cheeks. His hand was so gentle on her skin, so warm as he rested it at the nape of her neck under her hair. He rubbed his thumb gently against the back of her head, and she leaned against him.
She didn’t date much, being busy with school and her brothers, but boys did seem to pay her a lot of attention. She hated it — their comments about her body, her hair, her eyes, always made her skin crawl. There’s more to me than that! She wanted to scream at them. But Toge didn’t — couldn’t — do that. He had to show her that he liked her, instead of telling her. Had to show her that he was attracted to her, instead of telling her. Right now his gentle hand, resting on her neck, was all she needed to know.
Chapter 4: Salmon
A knock on the door startled Miwa. She peeked through the peephole to see a familiar shock of white hair.
“Hey, Toge.” She folded him into a hug. “What are you doing here?”
He thought hard for a minute, then giggled. “Shake,” he said, holding up a bag in his hand. He passed it to her and she peeked inside. There was in fact salmon in the bag, along with a few other items. She looked up at him, puzzled.
“Uh. Thanks? But what’s this for?”
He pointed at himself, then made a motion with his hand like he was sautéing something. “Tsunamayo,” he said.
Miwa hesitated. She glanced back into the apartment behind her. For one thing, it was a mess. For another —
“My brother is here,” she said. “And he usually doesn’t do too well with strangers, so I just — I appreciate this, Toge, but I don’t know if —“
He didn’t seem upset, just tilted his head to one side and considered her words. Then he nodded.
“Shake,” he said. “Ikura, tsunamayo.”
Miwa sighed. “Maybe you’re right. He usually gets overwhelmed by strangers who want to talk to him too much, but I guess that isn’t really a problem for you. Maybe he would like you.”
“Shake,” he said. To her surprise, he unzipped the collar of his uniform just slightly and brushed a kiss on her forehead. He zipped it back up immediately, but Miwa thought she caught a glimpse of black tattoos around his lips. She pushed the door open behind her and pulled Toge inside.
“Sorry for the mess,” she said as she led the way into the kitchen.
“Okaka,” he replied. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile.
Miwa showed him where everything was before going to check on her brother.
“Kazuya-kun, we have a guest,” she whispered into his dark room. “It’s a boy that I’m dating, his name is Inumaki. You can come out to meet him if you want to, but you don’t have to, okay? He’s going to cook for us.”
A lamp flicked on and she saw Kazuya lying in his bed, his blue hair tousled against his pillow. He rubbed his eyes and shook himself. A humming noise, rising in volume and pitch, started in his throat, and Miwa winced.
“You don’t have to,” she said gently. “But I think you would like him, Kazuya-kun.”
He stopped humming and sat up. He put one hand over his face and flapped the other in the air. Every three flaps, he snapped his fingers. Miwa waited for him to decide, and after a few moments he looked back up and nodded.
“Great,” Miwa said. “Take your time.”
****
Miwa didn’t notice Kazuya, he crept into the kitchen so noiselessly. It was Toge who noticed him first. He prodded Miwa’s shoulder.
“Ikura,” he said. She turned.
“Oh, this is my little brother, Kazuya,” she said. “Kazuya-kun, this is Inumaki Toge.”
Kazuya nodded and pulled himself onto a stool at the counter, ignoring Toge’s outstretched hand. Toge didn’t seem to mind. He poured Kazuya a glass of the mango juice he’d brought and passed it across the countertop. Miwa almost intercepted it — she didn’t think Kazuya had tried mango juice before, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react, especially with everything else going on — the sizzle of vegetables sautéing, the smell of the salmon broiling, the new person, the bright lights, the sound of Toge chopping scallions.
Miwa had become accustomed to thinking of everything in terms of overall amounts of stimulus. If the TV is on, the fan should be off. The lights can be on with the TV but only if we’re eating. No TV if the dishwasher is running. No scented candles if there’s music playing and people talking. Headphones on if the shop is busy. What are the textures of this food?
Kazuya took a sip and smiled. He clapped his little hands, and Toge smiled too, his eyes crinkling above his collar.
“Shake,” he said. “Tsunamayo.” He pointed at himself, then the juice, then formed a heart with his fingers. To Miwa’s surprise, Kazuya smiled again and nodded.
“Tsunamayo,” he agreed. He repeated the motions Toge made, his little hands struggling to make the heart shape.
Miwa’s eyes watered and she brushed a hand across them. Kazuya usually didn’t speak, and he usually couldn’t stand to be in the kitchen with her while she cooked — it was just too much. Meeting strangers and trying new things usually took a lot of preparation. But here he was, smiling and talking to Toge as though they were friends — albeit, friends who only spoke in rice ball ingredients. If Kazuya started saying even just a few words, like Toge, she could be a better sister to him, take care of him better. She understood him for the most part, even non-verbally, but having even just a few words might help to bridge the gap between them. Might make it easier for her to identify things that were bothering or hurting him.
She didn’t realize that she was frozen until Toge’s hand slid around her waist and she looked up at him. His violet eyes were full of concern.
“Takana?” His voice slid upwards at the end, making the question clear.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His eyes crinkled again. “Konbu,” he said, and he brushed his lips across her forehead.
Chapter 5: Gojo Satoru
They were just sitting down to eat when Toge’s phone chimed, then rang noisily. He glanced at it and rolled his eyes.
“Mentaiko,” he grumbled. He raised it to his ear. “Shake?”
Miwa heard a cheery voice over the line, but couldn’t make out the words. Toge rolled his eyes again.
“Shake,” he said, then, “Okaka. Ikura, tsunamayo.” He listened again and sighed. “Shake,” he said finally, and he hung up. His elbows hit the table with a thud and he hid his face in both hands. Miwa hesitated. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she wasn’t sure he’d be able to get the meaning across, and she didn’t want him to get even more frustrated. While she dithered, Kazuya spoke up.
“Takana?” He asked Toge, in the same voice of concern that Toge had used earlier. Toge’s head shot up out of his hands and his eyes softened.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Ikura.” He covered his eyes with one hand and did a cheesy thumbs-up with the other. Miwa giggled.
“So that was Gojo-san, then. That’s his teacher,” she added to Kazuya. “Is everything okay?”
“Okaka.”
He stood and rubbed his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair. He looked exhausted, and Miwa felt a jolt of pity. She usually understood him so easily that she sometimes forgot that he had to work so hard to communicate with other people.
“Tsu—“ he started. Then he pulled out his phone and typed furiously. She wasn’t surprised when hers chimed.
<Have to go — Grade 1 curse appeared in the area and Gojo wants me to handle it. I told him I was busy but I don’t think he understands me or cares>
Miwa looked up at him and nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Why couldn’t he just text you?”
Toge rolled his eyes. “Ume,” he snapped. “Okaka, ume.”
Ume? That’s a new one. Miwa puzzled over it. It clearly wasn’t positive — especially when paired with ‘okaka’ — but she couldn’t figure out exactly what it meant. He certainly seemed irritated with Gojo. She had never heard him sound this upset.
“I’m sorry you have to go,” she said. She rose and grabbed one of his hands. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you again soon, okay?”
He nodded and left with a wave, his shoulders slumped. She and Kazuya ate in their usual silence for several minutes. Then Kazuya interrupted her brooding.
“Tsunamayo,” he said. He pointed at the door, then at himself, and smiled. “Nice.”
Miwa’s eyes welled up again. “He is nice,” she agreed. “I’m glad you like him. I like him, too.”
Kazuya patted her hand and gestured between them with the other. “Nice,” he said. “Good.”
The tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks. Once she started, it was hard for her to stop, and she pillowed her head in her arms and sobbed onto the table. She heard Kazuya get up and leave the room. Now I’ve ruined that moment , she grumbled to herself. I have to stop being so damn emotional all the time! I’m such a useless—
She felt Kazuya’s little hand slip into hers, and he pressed something into her palm. She raised it to her eyes and examined it — a small, blue-and-grey stone, smooth and round and cool beneath her fingers. She couldn’t imagine where he’d found it.
“Tsunamayo,” he said, his little-kid voice full of importance.
“Thank you, Kazuya.” She dried her eyes on her napkin and tucked the rock into her pocket. “I love you, too.”
He nodded seriously and returned to his seat, and they resumed eating in silence. Miwa set down her chopsticks when her phone chimed.
<Sorry I had to leave. I liked meeting your little brother. See you soon>
<Be safe> she texted back. But he didn’t answer.
Chapter 6: The Beach
Miwa looked down at her phone again and rubbed her forehead. There was just no way. No possible way that he’d had assignments in Kyoto for the past three weekends. Which meant that he was lying, and that he was riding a bullet train over two hours each way just to see her. Truthfully, she’d started to be suspicious after the second time, when she’d seen Todo at the school. Why would they send a third-year from Tokyo when there was a third-year of the same grade already in Kyoto?
<The beach sounds great> she texted back. <but next time, let’s hang out in Tokyo.>
<🐟>
<Oh, come on! I can’t even tell what kind of fish that is!>
<Oh, so you can tell what I mean in person, but not in a text?>
He sent several laughing emojis and she rolled her eyes, but she smiled.
****
Toge automatically stayed back with Kazuya, matching his pace and waiting patiently when he stopped to pick up a rock or a shell. Miwa and Kaiyo walked ahead of them, on the edge of the beach where the waves could wash over their feet. Miwa didn’t remember the last time she’d been able to do that. Usually, she was the one staying behind with Kazuya while Kaiyo played in the sand and the waves. But Kazuya had grabbed Toge’s hand and smiled up at him, and Toge had stayed.
“Your boyfriend seems nice,” Kaiyo commented as they walked. He was too old to hold her hand, now, because he was twelve and felt like a grown-up, but she gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“He is,” she agreed. She glanced back over her shoulder. Kazuya was laughing and Toge’s head was thrown back, too. His white hair whipped around his eyes in the wind.
She got a chance to catch up with Kaiyo in a way she hadn’t in a long time, to hear about his middle school and his friends and what teachers he liked. Her heart twinged, though, realizing that she’d neglected him because Kazuya needed her more. Or in more obvious ways.
As if on cue, she heard a shriek behind her. She whipped around to see Kazuya planted facedown, screaming and beating his little fists against the sand. She made it two steps in his direction before Toge plopped down next to him. He must have said something, because Kazuya raised his head and his screaming faded into the waves. To Miwa’s surprise, he sat up and faced Toge. He still kicked his feet angrily against the sand, and Miwa could see his little shoulders shaking, but Toge leaned forward and pressed two fingers gently to the boy’s chest, above his heart. Then he gestured out at the waves. Slowly, Kazuya stilled. As Miwa reached them, he raised his own chubby hand and touched Toge’s chest, then waved out at the ocean.
“Tsunamayo,” he said, and Toge nodded.
“Shake. Tsunamayo,” he said. He ruffled Kazuya’s hair and stood, offering the little boy his hand. Kazuya looked up at Miwa.
“Kasumi, tsunamayo,” he said, gesturing out at the waves. Miwa brushed a hand across her eyes and met Toge’s. He tipped his head to one side and his eyes crinkled up in a smile.
He stooped and lifted Kazuya easily onto a hip, even though he was really too big for it, and they trailed down the beach again as a unit.
****
“How did you know what to do?” Miwa blurted out. Toge reached for the remote and paused their show, then turned to face her in the darkness. In the blue light from the screen, she saw his eyebrows furrow.
“Takana?”
“With Kazuya,” she explained. “He was headed for a meltdown and you knew how to help.”
“Shake.”
“But how?” She insisted.
His eyebrows crashed together again and he rubbed his forehead with his fingers. Then he shook his head and gestured to his mouth.
“Okaka.”
Miwa squeezed his hand and he sighed.
“Ikura,” he started, and he gestured towards Kazuya’s bedroom, then at himself. “Uh, konbu.” Miwa nodded her understanding and he continued. He grabbed her hand and put it on the side of his head. “Tsunamayo,” he said, gesturing between them. “Ikura, okaka.” His hands flew as he spoke, pointing at the window and making a circling motion. Then he paused and tilted his head, giving her a minute to process. This was the most he’d ever said at once, so she ran it back in her head carefully.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Okay. You and Kazuya. I understand you, and other people don’t?”
Toge’s eyes welled up and he nodded hard. Miwa’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She knew that was true, but hearing him explain it still hurt. He cleared his throat and shook his head sharply and went on.
“Ikura,” he pointed at Kazuya’s room again, then shook a fist. “Tsunamayo.” A wave at his own chest. “Konbu. Okaka tsunamayo.” He put both of his hands on the sides of his head and then dropped one to his heart. Miwa opened her mouth to reply, her heart in her throat, but he went on. “Ikura.” Another wave to Kazuya’s room, and he pinched two fingers close together. Tapped his chest, spread his fingers further apart.
It was the closest he could come to a rant; Miwa had never seen him so impassioned. The lump in her throat choked her and he blurred in front of her through the screen of tears in her eyes.
“Oh, Toge,” she said gently, and she pulled him into her arms. He shook against her and she processed through it again as she held him.
Kazuya isn’t understood, and the world is painful, so he has a meltdown. I feel the same, but it stays in my head and heart. Because he’s little, and I’m grown up.
For the first time, Miwa was glad to be a useless Grade 3 with a completely boring cursed technique. Being special seemed lonely.
Chapter 7: The Movies
Toge’s arm fell across her shoulders as they left the theater and walked back towards Miwa’s apartment. She wrapped hers around his waist and leaned into him.
“So what did you think, did you like it?” She asked.
“Shake,” he said. “Hmm. Okaka?” He laughed and stopped on the sidewalk. She looked up and he covered his eyes with both hands. “Tsunamayo,” he said.
Miwa laughed too. “You’re joking! You thought it was scary? You’re a Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, and you thought it was scary ?”
Toge nodded and doubled over in a fit of giggles, holding his stomach. “Tsu-tsunamayo,” he gasped out. He straightened and mimed an old-fashioned hand-reel video camera.
“You’re ridiculous,” Miwa laughed as they resumed their stroll. “I can’t believe you think those fake, CGI monsters on the screen are scarier than the real things you have to deal with all the time.”
“Ikura.”
“Sure, but not as much as you.” They walked by the park where she used to bring Kazuya and Miwa looked nervously at a group of large men standing just off the sidewalk. They didn’t look like gangsters, necessarily, but it was dark and they were all a lot bigger than her and Toge. As if he’d read her mind, Toge pulled her closer and pressed his lips to her forehead through his mask.
“Tsunamayo,” he said, and he gestured to himself. A laugh went up amongst the group and they fell into step on either side of Miwa and Toge.
“Tsunamayo,” one of them said mockingly. He draped a large arm across Toge’s shoulders. “What’s the deal, buddy? Stop learning words in kindergarten?”
Toge shrugged his arm off and pulled Miwa closer. Even in the darkness, she could see the red in his cheeks. He shook his head, but didn’t say anything.
“What’s with the mask?” Another jeered. “Hiding your ugly mug so you have a shot with this girl?”
“Maybe he’s the Joker!” Another yelled, and their laughter rippled cruelly through the air.
Miwa thought she heard Toge clear his throat. He looked at his feet as they walked, faster now, his arm still holding her close. Rage flared in her stomach. These men were no different than children, the ones who had ruined this park for Kazuya. She planted her feet and forced Toge to a stop. When his eyes caught the light from a nearby streetlamp, they glistened wetly.
“Takana,” he said, tugging at her hand. “Takana, tsunamayo.”
The group of men closed around them and Miwa shook her head.
“No,” she said firmly. “No, Toge. These men owe you an apology.”
Their laughter bounced through the night air, mocking and jeering, and Toge shook his head.
“Oka-” he started, but the laughter rang out again and he stopped short. The rage spread from Miwa’s belly up into her chest and burned in her throat. When a large hand slid onto her back and then down onto her butt, she shuddered, but she drew her shoulders back.
“What are you doing with this charity case, sweetheart?” The owner of the hand sneered. His breath washed over her, smelling of stale tobacco and liquor. “You’re too beautiful to be slumming it with some guy who can’t even appreciate that.”
Miwa drew in a deep breath and raised her eyes to Toge. His were fixed on the spot where the other man’s hand disappeared behind her, and one hand was behind his ear on the loop of his mask.
“Toge,” she said calmly, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. “When I say ‘go,’ please take three steps backward, and one to your left. Quickly.”
He looked puzzled, but he nodded. She took another deep breath.
“Go,” she said.
By the time he finished following her instructions, the man who’d touched her was flat on his back, dazed. His head hit the sidewalk exactly where Toge had been standing a moment earlier, and Miwa sat on his chest. Her legs locked his arms firmly by his side. I may only be a grade 3 sorcerer, but compared to this guy --!
When his eyes refocused, she grinned viciously down at him. The others moved towards her, and she held up a hand.
“Uh-uh,” she said. She leaned backwards to show the knife pressed against the larger man’s throat. “I wouldn’t take a single step closer, any of you.”
“You’re crazy!” One shouted. “You’ll be arrested for this!”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think I will. I’m seventeen, a minor, and your friend here just assaulted me.” She turned her eyes back to the man beneath her and grabbed his jaw in her free hand.
“Open wide,” she said. “How about if I cut your tongue out? Then we can see who’s a charity case.” Fear bloomed in his eyes and he struggled harder beneath her. She thought she caught a whiff of urine.
“No?” She pressed when he didn’t answer. The others stood frozen, clearly weighing their odds. “Okay, then. Why don’t you go ahead and apologize to Inumaki?”
The man beneath her nodded infinitesimally, the knife blade nearly nicking his skin.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I humbly apologize.”
Miwa looked around at the others. “You, too,” she said. They mumbled apologies and gave a few hurried bows, and Miwa got to her feet. She pulled Toge away while the others helped the one she’d knocked down to his feet. She didn’t know if she could take them all at once, if they regrouped.
“I’m so sorry, Toge,” she said when they were a few streets away with no sign of the others. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Shake,” he croaked. “Sh-shake. Tsu-tsu-” He cleared his throat and his violet eyes caught hers.
“Ume.” He said, gesturing to her, then himself, and then back down the street. “ Ume, okaka.”
“Those guys are idiots!” Miwa snapped. “You can say more than they’ve ever thought, even just speaking in rice-ball ingredients, Toge.” She cupped his head in both hands and rubbed her thumbs in circles on his jaw, under his mask. He let her, for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and grabbed her wrists gently, pulling her hands away from his face.
“Ume,” he said. He gestured at himself, then her, then his mouth. “Tsunamayo, ume.”
“I’m perfectly capable of handling a couple of normie morons.”
Toge gave a weak chuckle and nodded. “Shake, shake.” He said. But then he gestured to his mouth again, and back down the street. “Tsunamayo,” he insisted.
“Oh.” She shook her head firmly and wrapped her arm back around his waist. “I didn’t want you to hurt your throat, Toge-chan.”
He didn’t answer her, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him brush the back of his hand across his eyes. They walked the rest of the way to her apartment, then up to her door, in silence.
“K-Kasumi,” he said. Miwa’s heart leapt into her throat and she stared up at him. He never said people’s names -- she’d only even heard him say his own name once, the day they met.
“Toge --” she started to say, but he looked so serious that she stopped.
“Kasumi,” he said. “Azuki.”
She searched his deep, violet eyes. Red beans are kind of a stretch for a rice ball filling , she thought. But that’s not important right now.
Before she could figure out what he meant and reply, he brushed a kiss on her forehead and turned to leave.
“Toge!” She called after him, but he just turned and gave her a wave at the door. Azuki, the thought. What on earth did he mean by that?
Chapter 9: Picnic
Miwa’s hand was starting to get sweaty, but she didn’t want to pull away, and Toge didn’t seem to mind. She scooted a little closer, so their arms were touching, and looked up at the dappled light coming through the branches overhead. The grass prickled at her back even through the blanket and she shifted to avoid a small rock under her shoulder.
She glanced up at Toge. Is he asleep? His eyes were closed, his pale lashes resting on his cheeks above the edge of his face mask. The wind shifted his hair off of his forehead, and Miwa’s heart lurched. She rolled onto her side and snuggled close to him. To her surprise, he dropped her hand and snaked his arm around her waist instead, tugging her against him. She pillowed her head on his chest and he hummed contentedly.
“Tsunamayo,” he said. He raised his other hand and pulled her arm across his chest, interlocking their fingers on the other side of his body. He was so warm from the sun, and solid, and gentle, and Miwa melted against him.
“I really like you, Toge,” she said. She felt his chest shake and looked up to see his eyes crinkled with laughter.
“Shake,” he chuckled. “Ikura, azuki.”
Miwa blushed and sat up, stretching her arms overhead. Azuki, again. In this context maybe, like, a term of endearment? Behind her, he stirred too, and his arms looped around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder from behind.
“Azuki,” he murmured against her neck. The breeze made his hair tickle against her ear, but she didn’t want to move away. She leaned back into his arms and they sat that way for a while, watching a couple of birds hop through the grass, looking for tasty tidbits to eat. A few were even brave enough to approach and peck at a few of the crumbs from their discarded picnic.
“Toge,” she said tentatively, “you’re — we’re — we’re dating, right? Like, you’re my boyfriend.” She didn’t really feel the need to define their relationship, but she wasn’t sure how else to set up her next question. His shoulders shook against hers with his laughter.
“Shake,” he said. He laughed harder. “Mentaiko, shake.”
“Okay, good,” she pressed on, determined. She twisted out of his grasp and looked him firmly in the eyes. “Then I think I should know what you look like.”
Toge’s laughter evaporated. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Okaka,” he said slowly. He gestured to the tan, plaid mask covering his mouth and nose. “Ume.”
“It isn’t dangerous,” she insisted. “It’s not like taking the mask off will automatically curse me.”
He winced. “Okaka, tsunamayo,” he said. He tapped the side of his head, then his mouth.
“Just for a minute,” Miwa wheedled. “You won’t forget, if it’s just a minute.”
He sighed again and ran a hand through his messy hair, rumpling it even further. Then he raised his head, met her eyes, and nodded. He pulled the mask off one ear, then the other, and dropped it away from his face. A flush rose to his cheeks in the dappled light and he looked away from her, as though she’d caught him naked.
Miwa’s eyes raked over the tattoo-like markings around his sensitive mouth, and her heart raced. She reached up and brushed them gently with her fingertips. They were slightly raised and they tingled with cursed energy as she ran her fingers across them. He leaned towards her infinitesimally.
“Toge,” she whispered. “These are so beautiful.”
“Okaka,” he said, and blushed deeper. “Ikura.”
Miwa nodded and pulled his face down to hers.
“Both of us, then,” she agreed. She pressed her lips to the markings on one cheek and felt a shudder ripple through his body. She turned his head and kissed the other one, and he shuddered again.
“Toge — can I kiss you?” She whispered against his cheek. He pulled away and looked at her seriously in the eyes for a moment before responding. She saw indecision in his violet eyes, his obvious desire to say ‘yes’ warring with his constant vigilance regarding his mouth. But finally, his eyes softened and he brushed his hand across her jaw. He twined his fingers into her hair, twirling a blue strand around them, and then he met her eyes again.
“Shake,” he said, and then more emphatically, “shake, shake.”
Miwa laughed and wrapped both arms around his neck, running one hand up into the hair at the back of his head, the other trailing circles across the muscles of his back. She pulled him in and pressed her lips to his. His were warm, and soft, and made her head spin. He flicked his tongue against her lips and she parted them slightly, breathlessly. As his tongue slid between them, she felt a textured portion, raised like the markings on his cheeks. It tickled, but pleasantly, and it made her lips tingle with energy as he kissed her.
Toge wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her easily into his lap. He held her like that and they kissed until they were both breathless. Then they collapsed back onto the blanket, laughing, and Toge wrapped her in his arms again.
“Azuki,” he murmured against her lips, and she finally understood.
“Oh,” she laughed. “Oh, yeah. I love you, too, Toge.”
He laughed, and kissed her, and laughed, and Miwa relished the warmth of his laughter as it washed over her like the sun. There weren’t a lot of joyful moments as a jujutsu sorcerer, even a useless one like herself, but for the first time in a while, she felt like a normal teenager. Just laying here in the sun, with my boyfriend. Who only speaks in rice ball ingredients, she laughed to herself. He didn’t say much, but his hands were gentle in her hair and on her arm, and his arms were strong around her, and that was all she needed to know.