Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The boy's smile lit up the whole gray world.

His eyes curved into crescent moons, the light within them sparkling like stars. Then the corners of his mouth lifted, showing a glimpse of his white fangs.

That smile spread across his face, warming even the damp walls around them.

Gojo Satoru smiled and reached out his hand toward Xia Xiyin.

His fingers spread apart, palm facing up. Long fingers wet with a few drops of water, knuckles prominent, with a thin layer of fine fuzz on the skin that glistened with moisture.

"I promise you."

Those four words came out like a promise from that still-smiling mouth.

But the smile remained as the expression on his face shifted—his brow slightly lowered, making his eyes look deeper and brighter, solemn and dignified. The corners of his mouth were still upturned, but the lightness in that curve had dissipated, leaving only the weight of every word.

"Absolutely!"

Each word was forced out of his throat, crystal clear, enunciated with force, as if chiseled into stone. The sound rolled out from his chest, dull and powerful, pounding into Xia Xiyin's ears.

His hand still hung in the air, waiting for her.

Xia Xiyin looked at that hand. Something welled up in her chest, warm and burning.

She raised her hand, trembling as she reached out, and let it fall into his palm.

Gojo Satoru's fingers instantly curled inward, gripping tightly. The warmth seeped through the gaps between his fingers, seeping into her blood, seeping into that wildly pounding heart.

Xia Xiyin couldn't help but sigh. Were they really discussing the future and careers, or was this a confession?

To avoid being bewitched, Xia Xiyin reeled her thoughts back in.

Thinking it over, she pressed her fingertips to her heart, feeling the throbbing within. Deep down, she felt that Gojo Satoru was suited to be a teacher.

It was intuition, something like a friend's super-intuition.

Except it was weaker than that, more like a certainty rooted in observation and subtle perception.

Gojo Satoru, a high school student who seemed cynical and lawless. Yet her heart told her he was restraining himself, bound by something.

He had a bottom line and followed the rules, even if it wasn't obvious yet.

The three of them started walking home.

Before long, the weather gradually cleared. A crack appeared in the clouds, and light squeezed through, brushing across her cheek, driving away the chill.

The air changed. What had been wet and clinging now wrapped around her, warm and soft.

Xia Xiyin clutched Gojo Satoru's coat, wondering if she should give it back.

"Xiyin, your umbrella is shaped like a katana," Gojo Satoru said, tying up the umbrella strap and gripping the handle with both hands, swinging it up and down, making a whooshing sound.

Seeing this, Xia Xiyin snatched the umbrella back and held it up, examining it closely.

Great, he hadn't broken it.

"This is something I bought during my chuunibyou phase," she sighed, her tone resigned about her cringey past. "I bet you both fantasized about becoming cool samurai when you were kids."

Of course, most of the time she would grab a bedsheet or a curtain, drape it over herself like a cape, and pretend she was a princess.

Or after school, she would pick up a branch from the roadside, use it as a holy sword, and fantasize about being a knight.

Suguru Geto quietly edged away from her and calmly denied, "No, I didn't, Xiyin."

Xia Xiyin furrowed her brows, clearly not believing him.

She turned to look at Gojo Satoru beside her, her gaze full of scrutiny.

"Huh? Me?" Gojo Satoru pointed at himself, then whipped off his glasses and struck a pose. "In my house, it's always samurai protecting me. Me? I'm something even greater—the cool 'Divine Child'~"

Divine Child?

At that thought, she couldn't help snickering.

If he could be more dignified, wear a kimono, keep silent, and shed that noisy temperament, he could pull off a facade of sacred inviolability.

"Alright, Lord Divine Child."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a sharp sensation hit the sole of her foot, as if someone were driving a nail in from underneath the shoe. Her entire leg went weak.

Xia Xiyin's left leg slightly bent, her center of gravity shifted, and she leaned onto Suguru Geto, falling into his arms. All her weight pressed against him, pushing him half a step back before he steadied himself.

"What's wrong?"

Those three words fell from above her head, carrying a hint of urgency, a hint of tension.

Before the words even left his mouth, his hand had already reached out, grasping her arm. His other hand also came around, supporting her waist, holding her sliding body, encircling her entirely in his arms.

She lifted her left foot and turned sideways.

A small, sharp piece of glass was stuck in the edge of her sole, probably splashed from somewhere during the rain.

A bead of blood was seeping from her ankle. The wound was very shallow, probably just a surface scratch.

"Xiyin, I'll carry you back," Suguru Geto murmured close to her ear. "Your foot is injured. It'll be hard to walk back like this."

A jumble of emotions surged through her—embarrassment, guilt for being a burden, and a sense of overreacting. Xia Xiyin surveyed the surroundings. From here to her home was not far, probably about five minutes away.

She crouched down, examining the wound and the sole. It was just a small cut; to her, it was no big deal.

Just as she opened her mouth to refuse, a pair of hands appeared out of nowhere.

They came from both sides, reaching over her shoulders, dropping straight down. In that split second of frozen hesitation, those hands had already reached her thighs.

Gojo Satoru's palms pressed against her skin, his fingers curling in, gripping tight—then a feeling of weightlessness seized her, and her body was instantly lifted into the air!

Her survival instinct kicked in before reason could catch up.

Her body moved before her mind—her arms flew wide as she lunged forward, grabbing his shoulders. She curled in sharply, burying her face into the crook of his neck, her chest pressed against his chest, knees pressing against his sides, clinging tightly.

Until a sharp sound came from above, startling her back to reality.

"Xiyin, look ahead," said the person holding her, his tone trailing off.

Xia Xiyin tilted her head up. The first thing she saw was his sharp jawline. The tips of her ears went red.

Suppressing the unspeakable shame, she followed his gaze.

The water reflected light—a small pool of water. Due to the village's terrain, it had gathered enough water, about two meters across, blocking their way.

“Geto's right,” Gojo Satoru said, weighing the almost weightless person in his arms, his tone matter-of-fact. “Your foot's injured. You can't jump over this puddle.”

That was true. She could walk back on her own, but she couldn't jump over this puddle.

In middle school gym tests, Xia Xiyin's long jump results were decent—she could reach 1.7 meters—but nowhere near two meters.

Moreover, the water had spread to both sides of the wall, leaving no way around.

Unless she waded through it.

“No, the rainwater is dirty; it could get infected.” Suguru Geto seemed to read her mind and cut her off before she could say it. “Let Gojo carry you across.”

“Yeah, no problem. You're light.” Gojo Satoru chimed in, his arms steady as he held her, casually tossing out a number. “Feels like just over a hundred pounds.”

Having her weight guessed like that, Xia Xiyin felt a flash of annoyance and was about to push him away.

Then, acceleration and a sense of weightlessness hit her.

Gojo Satoru didn't give her a moment to react. He stepped back two paces, her body swayed in his arms. Before she could steady herself, he stopped, and in that instant, she felt the muscles in his legs tense like a drawn bow.

Then—he jumped!

The whole world dropped. No—she was flying upward.

Xia Xiyin instinctively ducked her head, pressing into his burning chest, curling into a ball in his arms. She clutched his shirt, not caring if she wrinkled it.

Wind roared in her ears so loudly she couldn't hear her own heartbeat. The earthy smell of rain mixed with a familiar scent washed over her, flooding her mind.

Was it dizziness? Or weightlessness?

Or something else… Her heart was in her throat.

A few seconds later, the arms under her slowly steadied. She slowly opened her tightly shut eyes and met a teasing gaze.

She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and looked over his shoulder and saw. They had cleared the puddle and even gone a meter past it.

“Amazing…”

She couldn't help but murmur softly, forgetting she was still being carried, forgetting her earlier embarrassment.

As Xia Xiyin marveled, she didn't notice Gojo Satoru's ears flush pink.

Her fair cheek pressed against his neck, the soft skin of her shoulders touching his bare skin.

Worst of all, when he lowered his eyes, he could glimpse the delicate line of her collarbone and the faint pink hollow below it.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if reverting to some primal oral phase, lips slightly parted, wanting nothing more than to bite down.

Hold it back!

He bit down on his molars instead, swallowing the restless urge.

“Xi Yin, let's go back for dinner.”

Gojo Satoru's voice turned low and husky. Ignoring what she wanted, he walked straight ahead.

“Huh?” Xia Xiyin felt the jostle and pressed one hand against the back of his head, forcing his head down to meet her eyes. “We're past the puddle. Can you put me down now?”

As she spoke, instead of putting her down, his arms around her tightened.

He suddenly sped up, breaking into a run—

“No way~” Gojo Satoru drawled, whining. “I'm starving.”

The wind from his running made her hair fly, sticking to her sticky cheeks.

She struggled to steady herself and shot a pleading look at Suguru Geto.

“Geto—!” Her eyes screamed, “Do something about him!”

Catching her gaze, he paused mid-step and looked up at his best friend, who was running with her in his arms.

“Gojo—” Suguru Geto met his eyes.

In that moment, the usual mischievousness was gone, replaced by a sharp, unyielding edge. Years of unspoken understanding told him what that meant—a declaration…

Once Gojo Satoru decided something, he never backed down. He would see it through.

“Sorry, Shion-chan. Just put up with it.”

He looked away, ignoring her startled expression, refusing to meet her eyes, which could melt anyone's heart.

Sharp as ever, Gojo…

He recalled the low whisper his best friend had let out.

“Geto, I know everything about last night…”

What scary eyes, Gojo…

Something unexpected happened, and Xia Xiyin grumbled to herself.

She had always thought Geto would help her.

After being ganged up on by the two, she could only pray that home would magically appear in front of her.

A moment later, they arrived home.

Xia Xiyin jumped down from his warm embrace and glanced at her watch.

Exactly three minutes.

Just as she was about to speak, Gojo Satoru picked up a key from under the carpet and opened the door.

He asked her, as she stood dazed at the entrance, “Xi Yin, where's the first-aid kit?”

Beside him, Suguru Geto stepped directly over the threshold and headed for the kitchen: “I'll go clean up the dishes and get the seasonings ready.”

Inside, the two each went about their tasks—one to the kitchen, the other turned on the TV. The light spilled onto her feet.

At that moment, she felt this home was full of warmth.

Unable to stop herself, she walked over and sat on the sofa, pointing at the cabinet under the TV. “The first-aid kit is inside.”

In her line of sight, Gojo Satoru brought over the first-aid kit, popped open the iodine bottle, and soaked a cotton swab in the liquid.

“Xi Yin…” Gojo Satoru lifted his head, his eyes locked onto hers without blinking.

“Shouldn’t you call us by our names?”

“Sometimes you say ‘you,’ ‘you guys,’ ‘Satoru,’ ‘Gojo Satoru,’ ‘Suguru,’ ‘Suguru Geto’—all sorts of things. Why can’t you just call us by our names?”

In the charged atmosphere, she froze for a moment.

She knew better than to speak carelessly—a voice inside warned her.

This person’s eyes, that look, concealed something dangerous.

Agreeing would mean tacitly letting him release something terrifying and dangerous.

Her lips parted and closed, teeth chattering.

“Suguru,” Gojo Satoru called toward the kitchen, “Am I right?”

A reply came from the kitchen behind him: “Satoru, you’re right!”

She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Satoru and Suguru—two names that in Japanese are single syllables—kept circling on her tongue before finally escaping: “Satoru… Suguru…”

A whisper as faint as a mosquito’s buzz lingered in his heart.

It had no outlet, no way to process, weighing on his chest until he could hardly breathe.

Was a name a binding vow?

Or was it a curse she’d cast when she said his name?

He couldn’t help wondering.

If not, then why did a single syllable make his scalp prickle, as if a hurricane had ripped through, leaving devastation too deep to erase?

In that moment, the Six Eyes seared the scene into memory—and with it, a billion cells roared to life.

Author’s note: None.