❝ i wouldn’t find the need to tell you ‘i told you so’ if you weren’t so allergic to admitting i’m right—but by all means, keep walking into walls just to prove a point. ❞ defected au
people changed constantly. from birth until the day you die, exposure to the elements and to others around you leave imprints. memories for better or worse. every decision and aftermath altering perception and persona. utahime was brought up on tradition. morals that were to be unshaken no matter the circumstance because everything was a test. in order to prove yourself and remain worthy of this life that was graciously bestowed, you must keep prevailing. your character must remain unshakable. resilience was the tool needed to achieve perfection.
it was why iori strived as hard as she had. her abilities were not all that desirable to other clans. the likelihood of her being married off to one of high ranking was next to nothing. her offspring were likely to possess little to no cursed energy. but this life was not to be taken for granted. she could compensate. give herself the purpose she lacked. in turn, utahime took her etiquette courses, dance routines and singing lessons with utmost seriousness. her academic grades never fell below exceptional. she trained until her bones ached and her hair was heavy from sweat. she was determined to be do good. be better. and the rest would fall into place. once upon a time, at least.
there were drastic changes brewing for a long time. most likely as early as adolescent. being considered weak, timid, too eager. utahime normally took these labels in stride. unwillingly to let them taint the well constructed image of herself. in iori's mind, she was strong for someone of her caliber, more intelligent than the average sorcerer, invaluable to the society because she was consistently proving change and power were more than just what a sorcerer was born with. even if cursed techniques were distributed to children like a lottery system, that she contained something far greater in the forms of bravery and determination. to her peers however, utahime was a fluke. wagging her tail for scraps. anything the higher ups would offer her. praise? another mission? lukewarm criticism masked as advice? a dog without dignity, really.
the reckoning came in the form of amanai. it was strange how someone she had never met would become the catalyst for destroying the spirit iori once coveted. students were dropping like flies. haibara was no longer. ieiri had lost her playful spark. nanami had departed not long after. mei was there for a moment until she wasn't. the once strongest duo had severed ties. one rooted in place while the other drifted asea. so much change in such little time was vexing to say the least. iori was alone and the only way to combat that was to substitute for the empty spaces in the society.
well intentioned, utahime began to take on a heavier work load. though true nature will always appear. death had kissed her on the cheek. nearly took half her face clean off save for the stubborn maxilla. when she woke, a portion of promotion tossed her way like someone's forgotten takeout, iori died for real. leaving was easy. everyone noticed but no one batted an eye. they all knew she wasn't like the rest of them. she was too polished. a greeter at the door for good publicity. a babysitter to indoctrinate their youth into false security in their paths. quick to replace. quicker to forget. and for a while she's thriving in this new state of mind. she works on her schedule. a simple mission from ex colleagues or lesser known clans paying handsomely for a sprinkle of support. iori becomes a shot of adrenaline for sale and she does feels proud of that. yet, even in own self proclaimed freedom is she truly free.
some people never change. they may be swayed one way or another but their cores and hearts are firm. satoru gojo is a rarity in every sense of the word. born with the six eyes. face like a heavenly deity. his every waking moment is marked with excellence that is not earned or taught. the world and its laws bend to his whims and he knows as much. it is only ever him that keeps tabs on her. she suspects it is of his own volition too. the school and the higher ups do not grace their attention upon weaker threats. but gojo loves weak things. finds a sick sense of amusement in them like a too curious child with a stick. utahime had been his favorite before. in a strange, almost flattering way, she thinks she still is sometimes.
he visits on and off. always seems to know where she'll be and when. he messes with her sometimes as if to provoke her into seeking him out. their own undisclosed game of cat and mouse. she won't go back there as fun as it is to tease that she could. utahime thinks, selfishly, conceitedly that satoru would be elated if he could be the one to lure her back to sacred grounds. that he would revel in the concept of being the only one to tame the housecat turned feral stray.
utahime sits on bed, arms sliding behind to hold her up just so, ❛ we've been over this. there is no point to prove. i have no place there. you would have agreed years ago. ❜ his cursed energy was felt the minute she got off the subway nearest her home. if he had not been inside when she arrived, she still would have known he had taken the time to snoop, maybe misplace something to trouble her. today he is charitable. he waited for her inside, digging through her fridge like he's lived there as long as she has. he'd gone on his scripted spiel of her faults and needed corrections. when she grew bored, her eyes trailed over his form. he looked thinner. her conclusion is simple, ❛ i heard about geto. i'm sorry for your loss. ❜
