Purple

Jujutsu Kaisen Au:

-Montclair Legacy Series-

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

“What did I do?” Mika asked under her breath, brows knitting together, her eyes looked around the field. The air felt too cold. She rubbed her arms once, trying to trace the feeling back to something she might’ve done without realizing. 

Geto stepped closer, watching her. His eyes landed on the faint frost lingering near her feet, the way the temperature around her refused to settle down. Geto leans in, with curiosity slipped from him. “Huh,” he murmured, then he glanced over his shoulder toward the bleachers. “Satoru.”

Gojo straightened immediately, “Yeah?”

Geto nodded in Mika’s direction. “Her cursed energy isn’t just flowing. It’s triggering her innate technique on its own.”

Gojo’s brows shot up, looking back at her, then at the field. “So you’re saying she’s activating it without meaning to? Just by focusing her energy?” 

“That’s what I’m seeing,” Geto said. He turned back to Mika, his tone softening when she spoke to her again, “You weren’t trying to use your technique just now, right? You weren’t shaping anything or forcing it. You were only concentrating on your cursed energy, is that correct?”

Mika nodded slowly. She shifted her weight, glancing around again, breathing in the coldness brushing against her skin. “I wasn’t trying to do anything,” she said. “I didn’t even notice until it got cold. It just… happened.” 

Geto let out a quiet breath, nodding slowly. “That’s actually not a bad thing,” he said, “It means your cursed energy and your technique are tightly connected. Your body reacts before you consciously decide to act. That kind of instinct doesn’t show up often, but when it does, it usually means there’s a lot of potential behind it.”

“Some sorcerers have to activate their technique separately from their cursed energy,” Geto continued, tilting his head, “They push energy first, then force the technique to respond. In your case, it doesn’t work that way. Your cursed energy naturally affects the area around you. The moment you focused, it already began triggering your ice-based technique. That drop in temperature wasn’t an accident. The colder it gets around you, the more stable your energy becomes.”

Mika looked down at her hands again, flexing her fingers slowly. A faint blue light still clung to her fingertips. “So that’s why it felt easier this time.” 

Geto nodded once, watching her closely. “You’re syncing with it,” he said. “And that also means that once you get full control over your cursed energy, using your technique won’t feel heavy anymore. You won’t need to force it. It’ll respond the moment you decide to move.”

“It’s honestly not surprising,” Gojo said, flashing a wide grin, glancing between them. 

Mika narrowed her eyes at him. She was this close to punching Satoru. Whenever he speaks in that tone with that annoying grin on his face, she knows it's no good.  “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked flatly.

Geto ignored Gojo for the moment and turned his attention back to her. “About that, Mika,” he said, “do you have any idea about your Domain beyond what I’ve already explained to you? Anything you’ve noticed on your own?”

Before she could answer, Gojo cut in, far too confidently. “Of course she does. I already told her everything I know.”

Geto turned to him slowly, brows lifting. “You did what?”

Gojo shrugged, hands slipping into his pockets. “She asked me to check her Domain last time. I said sure. Seemed harmless.”

“Checked her what?” Geto frowned, 

Mika’s shoulders stiffened. She shut her eyes and let out a slow breath, one hand lifting to her temple. 

That didn’t sound right.

“Her domain. Get it? Domain” Gojo added, fueling the fire. He lifted a hand, emphasizing the word. “You know. Domain.”

Mika’s patience thinned instantly. She shot him a sharp look, “Satoru,” she said warningly, “Stop.”

Gojo blinked, then waved a hand in front of himself, finally realizing what direction their thoughts had gone. “Oi—no, not that,” he said quickly. “I mean Domain Expansion. That one. What is wrong with you two?” He looked between them, frowning. “And quit glaring at me. I’m talking about techniques, not whatever you decided to make it sound like.”

Mika crossed her arms, her glare fixed firmly on Gojo. He, of course, looked completely unfazed. Geto remained silent beside her, his expression stayed neutral, watching the tension hanging in the air. After a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Mika.

“Why did you ask him to teach you?” he asked, seriously. 

Mika didn’t answer right away. She walked back onto the grass where her bag sat near the edge of the field and crouched to grab her water bottle. She kept her back to him as she twisted the cap open, taking a slow sip. Her heartbeat picked up for reasons she didn’t feel like examining.

“It was just to test it,” she said, keeping her tone deliberately casual. “I wanted to know what’s inside my Domain. I don’t remember anything whenever I activate it, so that’s why I asked Satoru to check it.”

Geto nodded once. “I get that,” he said. Then, frowning slightly. “But why him?”

She paused, bottle still in her hand, then turned back to face him with a confused look. “What do you mean, why him?”

“Why not me? Why didn’t you ask me instead?”

Mika froze. The frown on her face softened as she registered what he’d just said. Over his shoulder, Gojo was visibly holding back a grin. Near the bleachers, Shoko paused mid-bite, a chip falling forgotten from her fingers.

“I—I mean,” Geto added quickly, scratching the back of his neck, his composure slipping just enough to be noticeable. “I was the first one to see your Domain. I’d be a better choice.”

Gojo finally spoke up, sounding genuinely offended. “Hey. What’s wrong with me?”

Geto didn’t even look at him. “Everything,” he said flatly.

Mika stood there awkwardly, watching the two of them go back and forth. Geto brushed off every comment Gojo threw at him, which only made Gojo push harder, clearly refusing to be the one who backed down. The exchange looped on for longer than necessary, neither of them willing to drop it first. Mika let out a tired sigh and crossed her arms.

“Alright, that’s enough. Get out of here,” Geto said at last, shoving Gojo away with little effort.

“Hey—” Gojo stumbled exaggeratedly across the grass, arms flailing, catching himself at the last second. He shot them a look before jogging back toward the bleachers, where Shoko was already laughing, enjoying every second of Gojo’s humiliation.

Geto turned back to Mika and sighed, rubbing his temple. “Anyway. Let’s get back to your training.”

She studied him for a moment. “You’re sulking.”

“I’m not,” he said with a short chuckle. “Why would I be?”

Mika hesitated, then spoke more lightly, a small smile forming on her face. “I promise. Next time, you’ll be the one who gets to see my domain.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth starting to curl in a way she recognized immediately. Mika’s smile vanished on the spot. “I meant Domain Expansion,” she corrected quickly. “That—stop it. Get your mind out of the gutter.” She reached out and smacked the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, laughing. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your stupid face did,” Mika shot back, glaring at him.

“Okay,” Geto said after a moment, clapping his hands once to refocus them. “Let’s try manifesting your cursed energy again. But this time, I want you to stay aware of the temperature while you do it.” A small smile crossed his face.

Mika tilted her head curiously. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Earlier, you only manifested it,” Geto explained. “You were testing what would happen, but nothing more. This time, I want you to control it. Focus on how your energy moves. Think about drawing it in, then releasing it with intention. Don’t let it spill everywhere.”

Mika fell quiet, turning his words over in her head. She had never really taken the time to understand her cursed energy on its own. Most of the time, she only activated her technique when things went wrong. When there was no room to hesitate. Control had never been the goal, but survival was. She had never thought much about managing her emotions either. She was trained to move forward and exorcise curses, nothing more.

“…Okay,” she said after a while, letting out a slow breath. She brought both hands up in front of her, steadying herself. “I’ll try.”

Geto nodded. “That’s good. You’ve got this, Miks. Clear your mind.” Geto said softly, taking a few steps back.

Mika adjusted her stance, straightening her posture and squaring her shoulders. She stood a few feet in front of him, attentively. After a moment, the air around her began to shift. A thin pocket of cold settled close to her body, which was contained and controlled.  A few seconds later, the cold faded, warmth returning as the energy pulled back into her. The changes were more subtle and deliberate.

Above them, the sun hung quietly in the sky, light spreading across the open training field. The earlier breeze had disappeared completely, and the air settled back into its normal state.

Geto clasped his hands behind his back, watching closely. “This time, focus on one thing only,” he said. “Don’t activate anything. Just feel your cursed energy. Let it gather slowly. Hold it there, but don’t let it spill out.”

Mika nodded once. “Okay.”

She drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes. Her attention turned inward, centering on the quiet pull of her energy.  Her fingers twitched once, barely noticeable, before relaxing again, letting her thoughts stay clear.

Geto waited patiently. His eyes were fixed on the space around her. Nothing changed at first. The temperature stayed steady. No cold crept outward, no pressure built in the air. Her cursed energy moved without force of control. 

“That’s good,” he said quietly. “You’re keeping it stable.”

Mika let out a soft breath. Her eyes were still closed, her arms hung loosely at her sides, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Now,” Geto continued, “without opening your eyes, let a small amount out. Just enough to feel it extend. Don’t force it, alright? Let it move on its own.”

A cold wind brushed against Geto’s skin, lifting his bangs lightly. The grass beneath Mika rustled in response, reacting to the shift in her cursed energy. Moments later, the chill faded, warmth rolling back toward her in a controlled wave. Geto watched closely, noting how the temperature obeyed her intent, changing only when she allowed it to.

“You did well, Miks,” he said quietly, a soft smile forming without him realizing it.

Mika opened her eyes, pulling in a sharp breath. “I did?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “You really did. That was amazing.”

Her eyes widened instantly, excitement rushing through her before she could stop it. Her heartbeat spiked, a breathless laugh escaping her lips. “I did it!”

Before either of them could think twice, she rushed toward him, arms thrown open. Geto barely had time to react before she collided with him, the impact knocking a startled sound from his throat. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist out of pure instinct.

For a split second, Geto froze.

Then his arms moved on their own, gripping her securely so she wouldn’t fall. His shock quickly gave way to a laugh, one hand steady at her back, the other tightening slightly. The grin on his face was wide and unguarded.

“Hey—careful,” he said, grunting lightly before letting out a chuckle.

Mika blinked, then suddenly realized where she was. She jumped back on instinct, nearly tripping over her own feet, and cleared her throat a little too loudly. Embarrassment hit her all at once. Her hand went up to her face, fingers curling into her hair for a second, resisting the urge to pull at it. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she quickly turned her head away, letting out a fake cough that fooled absolutely no one.

“Sorry about that,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual. It didn’t quite work.

“No, it’s fine,” Geto replied, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to smooth over the awkward moment. “But do you… Really jump onto people when you get that excited?”

Mika snapped her head back toward him. “That was an accident.”

“Oh,” Geto said, a slow smirk forming once the idea settled in. “So you only do that to me.”

Her mouth opened, then shut again.

Mika wasn’t the type to get excited so openly. She rarely celebrated small victories, and she definitely didn’t throw herself into someone’s arms because of them. The last time she remembered doing anything close to that was years ago, back when her mother was still around. The realization hit her a second too late that she had done it without thinking, without meaning to, and only noticed once it was already over.

Her embarrassment lasted exactly three seconds, until she saw the smug look on Geto’s face.

Her irritation replaced everything else. Mika stepped closer and raised her fist, landing a light punch against his arm. “Don’t get weird about it.”

“Ah—” Geto gasped, then laughed under his breath.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The afternoon sun hung low over the open field, casting a warm, golden light across the grass. Mika bounced her volleyball lightly against her palm before tossing it into the air again. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, with a few strands loose around her face, and she wore a plain red shirt, black sweatpants, and scuffed white sneakers. She focused on the ball, adjusting her reflexes with each toss of her hand.

In high school, she was active in extracurricular activities, including volleyball team practices and serving as a third-year representative on the student council, with responsibilities that included handling and organizing school fair events. But now that she’s obliged to be a sorcerer, moments like holding a volleyball again were rare. With no one around, she enjoyed this scenario to herself.

She tossed the ball one more time, preparing to catch it, when a hand suddenly shot up from behind her, snatching it mid-air. She whirled around and found Geto standing there, holding the ball with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Good afternoon, my varsity player,” he said, teasingly.

Mika snorted and rolled her eyes, walking toward the bench and reaching into her bag for her water tumbler. Geto followed, carrying the ball with him. The sound of their footsteps rustled on the soft grass. Mika opens the cap of her water tumbler and drinks it.

“Your hair looks good. Did you… decided to shower today for the first time?” he teased, tilting his head slightly.

Mika narrowed her eyes at him, giving a sharp, fake smile. “Very funny. Did you sign up to be a comedian or something?”

“I did. Did I pass?” he said, grinning.

“No. You’re terrible,” she shot back, setting her tumbler down with a little too much force.

Geto laughs, “You’re often pissed off. Did I pissed you off again?” Mika stared at him deadpan, raising a brow. Geto chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m kidding. You look good, Miks.”

“Oh, really? You only noticed it now?” she said, turning with a proud little smirk, her posture straightening just slightly, clearly waiting for him to deny it. She slid her tumbler back into her bag and zipped it shut with a soft click.

Geto shook his head, chuckling. “I notice it every day,” he said, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, the ball swinging lazily in his free hand.

Mika stared back, her smirk widening. “Next time I’ll find out you’re already having a crush on me,” she says confidently, “You’ve got good taste, if that’s the case.”

Geto let out a chuckle and sat down beside her on the bench, leaving just enough space to feel intentional. His attention dropped to the ball resting in his hands, fingers turning it slowly. Mika watched him from the corner of her eye, waiting for a reaction, anything that looked even slightly flustered, but he only bit down on his lower lip, holding back a grin.

“Well… It’s not that hard to like you.” 

Mika froze, warmth rushed straight to her cheeks before she could stop it. She turned her attention back to the open field immediately, fixing her eyes on nothing in particular, pretending there was suddenly something very interesting happening out there. Her shoulders stiffened for half a second before she forced them to relax, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

Beside her, Geto said nothing, still smiling to himself, the ball resting quietly in his hands.

“By the way,” Geto said, gently tossing the ball upward and catching it again with one hand, “how do you usually play this?”

“It’s volleyball,” Mika replied, glancing at him. “I mostly played on a court. There’s a net in the middle.”

“Oh,” he said, with a hint of curiosity. “Can you teach me?”

She paused, clearly considering him for a second. “Teach you what, exactly?”

“Anything,” he said easily. “I’ll start from beginner level.”

Mika stood up and took the ball from him, stepping back onto the field. “Alright. Basic first.” She tossed the ball into the air and bumped it cleanly with her forearms, the movement practiced and smooth. The ball landed neatly back into her hands. “You don’t grab it. You guide it.”

Geto watched closely, brows drawn together in focus. “That looked easy.”

“It’s not,” she said, already handing the ball to him. “Try.”

He positioned his arms the way she showed him, feet slightly apart. Mika stepped back, tossing the ball toward him with controlled force. Geto reacted half a second too late. The ball hit his arms at an awkward angle and bounced straight up, nearly smacking him in the face.

“Whoa—” He stumbled back, barely catching it before it hit the ground.

Mika stared at him for a second, then snorted. “You’re supposed to keep your arms straight.”

“They were straight,” he argued, laughing under his breath. “The ball just didn’t cooperate.”

Mika took the ball from him, still smiling, and shook her head. “Again,” she said, already stepping back a few paces. Without waiting, she tossed the ball high in his direction.

Geto straightened immediately, shoulders tensing. He lifted both arms straight up, fully committed to the instruction, but forgot to move his feet. The ball dropped just short of his reach and hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling away across the grass.

She bent forward slightly, one hand flying to her stomach while the other pointed vaguely in his direction. “What the heck, Suguru—HAHAHAHAHA” Her laughter spilled out louder, “Oh my–HAHAHAHHA”

“You said raise my hands,” Geto defended, staring down at the ball and then back at her,

“Yes,” Mika said between laughs, wiping at the corner of her eye, “but I didn’t say stand there and wait. HAHAHAHHA”  She laughed harder now, head tipping back, ponytail swaying. 

She straightened and lifted her own arms, copying his stiff posture perfectly, elbows locked, feet planted. “This was you,” she said, freezing mid-pose. “Just—” She stopped, broke again, laughing even louder. 

Geto groaned softly, dragging the towel from around his neck and rubbing it over his face. “Alright, alright. I get it,” Still smiling, he flicked the towel forward, catching her lightly across the face.

“Ah—shit,” Mika yelped, instinctively grabbing the towel and pulling it away. She looked at him with mock outrage, “This one has your sweat, disgusting!” 

“Excuse me, miss,” Geto said, quickly snatching his towel back from her hands, “my sweat actually smells good.”

Mika froze for half a second, then immediately raised both arms in the air, feet planted firmly on the ground, perfectly recreating his earlier stance. She even copied the blank look on his face, holding it a beat longer than necessary. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, “what was that?”

Geto stared at her, eyes narrowing as he took in the whole performance. The longer he looked, the worse it got. If this had been Satoru, he would’ve already wrapped his hands around his neck without hesitation. But it wasn’t. It was Mika. And somehow, she managed to be even more effective.

He exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening, looking away for a moment, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He honestly didn’t know how much longer he could survive being her favorite target.

Mika burst out laughing again, one hand pressed to her stomach while the other wiped at the corner of her eye. “Your face is so ridiculous,” she said between breaths. “I should’ve pictured it and made it the group chat photo–HAHAHAHA.”

Before she could fully recover, Geto moved. One second, he was standing a few steps away; the next, he was right in front of her, arms sliding in without warning. One went behind her knees, the other settled securely at her back, and then he lifted her off the ground with ease.

Mika gasped sharply, a startled yelp escaping her when her feet left the grass. Her legs kicked out instinctively, swinging in the air while she grabbed at nothing for balance. “Suguru—put me down!” she shouted, 

“Nope,” Geto said calmly, adjusting his hold and lifting her a little higher just to be annoying. “I’m throwing you someplace far.”

“Wait—what?!” Her voice jumped an octave, her hands clutched his uniform, and another gasp slipped out. “Are you insane?!” Mika finally gave up trying to kick free and wrapped her arms around his shoulders instead, gripping tight. “Fuck you, Suguru,” she muttered, breathlessly.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

“Anything else you noticed while you were inside Mika’s domain?” Geto asked.

He twisted open the cap of his water bottle and took a long drink, more out of habit than thirst. His shoulders stayed tense even while resting. Across from him, Gojo cracked open his canned coffee, the sharp sound cutting through the tension before he took a slow sip.

“A lot,” Gojo said.

Geto nodded, eyes lowered to the ground beneath their feet. He replayed everything he remembered from the aftermath. Wanting to help Mika wasn’t enough, he needs more understanding about her domain. And whatever he’d experienced himself barely scratched the surface. Gojo had seen it from the inside, he experienced it longer than him. 

“The snowstorms weren’t just there for atmosphere,” Gojo continued, “They’re timers.”

Geto’s head snapped toward him. “Timers?”

“Five minutes. Maybe less,” Gojo said. “That’s all an opponent gets. If you don’t escape the domain before that runs out, you die.” 

Geto’s brows pulled together, replaying the fragmented images in his mind, details he hadn’t fully understood at the time. “And the gravestones you mentioned earlier?”

Gojo let out a short breath, “Yeah. Saw my name carved into one. A single gravestone, standing under a tree. From what I could tell, everyone who enters gets one. Their name is already there the moment they step inside.”

The air between them turned heavier while he went on. “The snow started off slow, it was barely noticeable. That’s what we can call the grace period. Once it starts falling harder, it means you’re already halfway through your time.”

Geto listened without interrupting, fingers tightening around the bottle.

“The snow keeps piling up,” Gojo said, “It covers the gravestone little by little. When the name disappears completely, you die inside that domain. Either by her cursed technique finishing the job, or she does it with her bare hands.”

Geto swallowed. “ bare hands?”

“Yep,” Gojo confirmed. “Or the twin sticks she carries in there.” Gojo sips his coffee, “One more thing. She’s asleep when she activates the domain.”

Geto’s grip faltered. “Asleep?”

“Out cold,” Gojo said. “The domain runs on instinct and trauma. Whatever’s driving it doesn’t need her consciousness. That’s what makes it dangerous.”

“Dangerous in what way?” says Geto, his brows furrowed. 

“It seems to me that Mika isn’t controlling her Domain. The Domain is the one controlling her. That’s the thing about abilities and techniques, the Host must learn how to control the massive power inside them to prevent the possibility of that power to consume the host completely” Gojo says sternly,

Geto’s eyes snapped open just in time. A thick arnis stick sliced through the air where his head had been a second earlier. He leapt back on instinct, boots skidding against the frozen ground, snow bursting upward and clouding his vision. The cold bit into his lungs when he landed. For a moment, all he could see was white, swirling and dense, before the snow settled and his sight adjusted.

A figure stood a few steps away.

Mika.

Her hazelnut-brown eyes were gone, washed over by pale white and icy blue. They didn’t focus on him, her gaze remained lowered, head tilted slightly, posture loose but ready, a body prepared for violence without conscious intent.

Geto’s chest tightened. He’d seen that expression before, during her solo mission. Her domain was their last straw to get out of there alive. 

Mika surged forward without warning, boots crushing snow, closing the distance and swung her arnis with lethal precision. Geto reacted on instinct, stepping into her space instead of away from it. He caught her wrist mid-swing, the impact sending a sharp jolt up his arm, and twisted hard enough to rip one stick free from her grip.

“Mika,” he called, firmly. deflecting the next strike with the stolen weapon. “Can you hear me?”

He glanced down and noticed frost crawling along the length of the arnis in his hand, ice clinging to the wood, biting cold even through his grip. When he lifted his eyes again, Mika stood there unmoving. Her eyes remain unmoving.

He stared at her figure sternly, his eyes narrowed.

“Time to wake up, Ice Princess.” 

✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The afternoon sun was warm but not harsh, casting a soft golden glow over the training field behind Tokyo Jujutsu High. The grass had been neatly trimmed, and a calm breeze drifted across the open space, carrying with it the faint scent of sakura petals from the nearby trees. The area was quiet, almost too peaceful for what was supposed to be a training ground.

Mika followed a few steps behind Suguru Geto. She wore a light gray shirt and dark athletic shorts, her hair tied into a simple ponytail that swayed with each step. The sunlight made her squint slightly, and her hands rested casually in her pockets as she watched him move ahead.

“What are we doing again?” she asked, curiously. Her eyes landed on a folding table and a ping pong set neatly arranged in the middle of the field.

Geto turned toward her, grinning,  holding two paddles and a small white ball between his fingers.

“First,” he said, amusedly, “we’re going to test your reflexes.”

Mika blinked. “By playing ping pong?”

“Yes,” Geto replied without missing a beat,

Mika tilted her head. “How is that supposed to test my reflexes? I think it fits more under cardio. You know, chasing after the ball when it flies off somewhere—” she said, jogging in place before pretending to run after an invisible ball. Her foot caught the uneven patch of the field, and she stumbled forward, losing her balance and falling straight to the ground.

Geto burst out laughing almost instantly, folding his arms and leaning against the edge of the table. “Wait—what was that? Show me again. How did the run go?”

Mika shot him a glare and stood up. She brushed the dirt from her shorts and straightened her shirt. “You didn’t see that.”

Geto couldn’t hold it in any longer. He threw his head back, laughing harder. His shoulders shook from how hard he was laughing, his hand resting against his stomach. The laughter echoes in the field. 

“You’re a menace. I hope you choke,” Mika said, crossing her arms tightly.

“I’m a coach,” Geto teased through a lingering laugh. “You’re just a very clumsy student.”

“I wasn’t even trying yet!” she snapped, defensively, 

Geto handed her a paddle. “Alright, alright. Let’s start for real. First to ten. No cursed energy, just you and your reflexes.”

“And what do I get if I win?” Mika asked, taking the paddle with a challenging look in her eyes.

Geto raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Confident now?”

“Just answer the question, Suguru,” Mika said, tilting her head and tapping the paddle lightly against her palm.

He paused for a moment, pretending to think it over, the corner of his mouth twitching. The small white ball bounced lazily against the table while tapping it with one finger. “If you win,” he said finally, “I’ll buy you milk tea. Two large ones. One with pearls, one with coffee jelly.”

She lets out a satisfied smile,  “And if you win?”

Geto leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the edge of the table. “If I win, you owe me five minutes of complete silence.”

Mika gasped, her eyebrows pulling together. “That’s cruel of you!”

“Then I suggest you bring your A-game.”

Before she could protest further, he served the ball with a swift flick of his wrist. Mika yelped in surprise, scrambling to react. She barely managed to raise her paddle in time, sending the ball bouncing clumsily back across the table.

“That’s cheating!” Mika huffed, crouching down to grab the ball that had rolled across the grass. Her voice carried enough frustration to make Geto laugh under his breath.

“I wasn’t cheating,” he said, shrugging, twirling the paddle between his fingers.

“You were guarding the entire table!” Mika shot back, pointing at him accusingly before tossing the ball back in his direction with a flick of her wrist.

“What table?” Geto replied innocently, returning her serve with ease. The teasing grin on his face gave him away, though, and Mika scowled in return.

The ball bounced off the edge of the table and rolled several feet away again. Mika groaned, spinning around and jogging after it. She dropped to her knees to catch it before it could roll any farther, her hands brushing against the grass. A short, breathless laugh escaped her as she straightened up, her ponytail loosening from all the movement. Strands of hair had started to cling to her forehead, and she puffed them away with a small sigh.

“See? This is part of your training,” Geto said, leaning against the table, paddle resting on his shoulder. “Reflexes, agility, chasing balls… It’s very important in combat.”

Mika glared at him, brushing stray grass from her shorts. “I feel like you’re doing this just to watch me suffer.”

Geto didn’t even bother to argue. A chuckle escaped him instead, shoulders relaxing, eyes following her as she took her position again.

She looked determined, standing in front of the table with both hands gripping her paddle tightly. Her brows were drawn in focus, her stance exaggeratedly serious, and the sight made him smile before he could stop himself. She was clearly trying her best, but her version of “battle readiness” only made the game even more entertaining for him.

After several attempts that went nowhere, Mika finally managed to hit the ball with enough force and direction for it to slip past Geto. He had been too distracted watching her determination, and the ball bounced off the edge of the table before rolling into the grass behind him.

“Yes!” Mika shouted, both arms shooting into the air. “Finally! I scored one!”

Geto retrieved the ball and gave her a small nod. “Good job. Only nine more to go if you want that milk tea.”

Mika stared at him without blinking. The silence stretched just long enough before she placed her paddle flat on the table, her entire expression sinking into defeat. “Never mind. I give up.”

A laugh burst out of Geto, louder than he intended. He shook his head, grinning. “Come on, you’re doing well, Miks. You just need a little more push.”

“But my hands are sore already,” Mika complained, lifting both hands in front of him and flexing her fingers with dramatic misery.

“It’s alright,” Geto said, his tone easing into something gentler. He stepped closer and took her right hand carefully, his thumbs pressing into her palm in slow circles. “You’re getting better. One more try?”

Mika blinked up at him, caught off guard by how warm his touch felt. A small smile tugged at her lips before she cleared her throat and turned her gaze away, her ears warming just a bit.

“Fine,” she muttered, pulling her hand back and reaching for the paddle again.

“That’s the spirit,” Geto said as he stepped back into position. He bounced the ball in his palm a few times before serving it with a clean, practised motion.

Mika reacted the moment it left his hand. Her eyes followed the ball closely, her steps quickening as she adjusted her stance. She swung her paddle and hit it back with decent force. Geto returned it with ease, and soon the two of them fell into a steady rhythm.

“You’re improving already,” he said in the middle of the rally.

“Don’t distract me!” Mika snapped, almost missing the next shot. She scrambled to recover, managing to save the point by a hair.

Geto’s grin widened. “Just making conversation.”

They continued for several more rounds. Mika managed to score a second point. Then a third. Her progress was slow but clear enough to make Geto watch her with growing amusement. Every time she missed, stumbled, or sent the ball flying somewhere it shouldn’t go, he waited calmly. Sometimes he teased her, sometimes he praised her, and sometimes he only smiled while she muttered complaints under her breath.

But no matter how many times she grumbled, she always picked the paddle back up and readied herself again.

When they paused for a break, they settled onto the grass beside the table. Geto reached for the water bottle he had brought and handed it to her without saying anything. Mika took it and drank slowly, catching her breath. Their shoulders brushed lightly as they sat close, both leaning toward each other without thinking about it.

“You did well,” Geto said after a moment, turning his head toward her.

“Even if I only scored three?” Mika asked, glancing back at him.

“Three is better than none. You didn’t give up… permanently,” he said, a small smirk forming at the end.

Mika let out a tired laugh. “You really take this whole sensei thing seriously, huh?”

“Only when I’m with students I like,” he replied, sincerely. 

Mika’s eyes softened. The corners of her lips lifted when she looked at him. “Then I guess I shouldn’t be terrible at this. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my personal coach.”

Geto gave her a sideways look, his smile growing just a little. “No chance of that, Mika. Trust me.”

Mika swung the paddle again and sent the ball flying a little too far. It shot past Geto’s head, barely missing him.

“Oh my gosh!” she burst out laughing, lowering the paddle immediately. “I’m sorry!”

Geto jogged after the ball, chuckling and shaking his head.  When he turned back, he spun it lazily in his hand, giving her a look, “Do I look like a basketball ring to you?”

“Almost!” Mika said through a grin, still catching her breath from laughing.

He lifted both hands over his head, forming a round shape with his arms. “Like this?”

“Yes! Stay like that!” Mika said, narrowing one eye, while aiming for a perfect shot. She grabbed her paddle again, preparing for her shot.

Her aim betrayed her the moment she swung. Instead of sending the ball through the space he held open, it shot forward and struck him on the forehead with a soft, unmistakable thud.

Mika froze for half a second before bursting into laughter. She doubled over, holding her stomach, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry! I swear that wasn’t on purpose! Oh my god!”

Geto pressed his hand to the spot where the ball had hit, his grin growing even wider despite the sting. He bent down to pick the ball up, shaking his head slowly.

“You’re completely doing this on purpose,” he said, playfully rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not!” Mika said through her laughter, setting the paddle down on the table. “Alright, your turn. Fair’s fair.”

She lifted her arms above her head, forming a circle with her hands. The shape was uneven and kept shifting, but she stood there with full confidence anyway.

“That’s not a circle,” Geto said, laughing, and stepping back. “That’s a tiny hole.”

“Shut up,” Mika said, still laughing playfully. She adjusted her arms, tiptoeing on her feet. “Wait, how did you do it earlier? Was it like this?” She shifted her hands again, widening the space, her head tilting to keep the shape steady.

“There,” Geto said, smiling. “That’s passable. Don’t move.”

Mika held her pose, a small smile staying on her face. Geto served the ball gently, aiming for the space she made. Instead of flying through, it bounced off her back and dropped to the ground.

“Ow!” Mika spun around with a dramatic glare. “I said through the ring, not at me!”

“Hold on, one more try,” Geto said, already lining up another shot.

He served again. The ball missed her arms completely and tapped the back of her head before rolling away.

She slowly turned back to him, blinking twice, and found him grinning with the proud expression of someone who knew exactly what he had done.

“You absolute shit–,” she glares, snatching the ball from the table.

Geto lifted both hands in a show of innocence, though the smile on his face refused to leave. “That was a mistake, I swear.”

Mika shook her head with an exaggerated sigh, lowering her shoulders.  “We’re hopeless. If we ever get paired for a mission, we won’t get anything done. Not a single cursed object will be retrieved.”

“That’s not true,” Geto replied as he stepped closer, crossing his arms while a smirk tugged at his lips. “I can still carry you.”

She squinted at him, unimpressed. “Carry me? What am I, a freeloader? ”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “You’re around forty-eight kilos, right? That’s manageable.” Mika rolled her eyes and smacked his arm with the ball. 

“Suguru!” she said, exasperated but still smiling.

He laughed under his breath and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a feather. Not hard to carry at all.”

“asshole,” Mika groaned, turning her back to him, gathering the paddles herself. 

“HAHAHA” Suguru watches her teasingly. “By the way, want to take a break?” he asked, leaning against the table with that casual posture he always fell into during training.

She nodded. “Yeah. I think I used all my brainpower trying not to smack your face again.”

“Good. I was running out of lives anyway,” he laughed softly,

Mika walked over to the patch of grass beside the court and lowered herself down, drawing her knees close and letting her arms rest loosely on top. The breeze moved through the trees, and the sunlight was warm enough to feel pleasant without turning the afternoon heavy. Geto joined her a moment later, settling beside her. He sat close enough that their shoulders brushed lightly whenever either of them shifted, the quiet settling around them in a way that felt steady after all the teasing.

Geto glanced at her from the side. “I’ve got to say, you’re actually not bad at this.”

She turned to him, raising a brow. “At what? Table tennis or hitting people?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Both. But mostly table tennis. And making me laugh.”

“Well, you laugh too easily,” she said with a small shrug.

“That’s because you’re funny,” he replied.

“You just have a shallow sense of happiness,” Mika muttered, chuckling.

“Okay, that hurts, you anaemic little witch brat,” Geto shot back.

“Impressive. You used every insult you know,” she said, smirking.

Geto reached out and rested his hand on the back of her neck, fingers brushing her skin. She jerked away immediately, a startled laugh slipping out. “Ah! Stop.”

“What was that? You’re sorry?” Geto said, leaning in with a teasing grin.

“You lunatic monkey!” Mika yelled, breathless as she crawled away from him.

“If I’m a monkey, you’re a squirrel. And when you’re angry, you squeak,” he says back, 

“Screw you! Ah—” Mika burst into laughter, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away, trying to wriggle out of his reach.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

“Alright,” Geto said, rolling his sleeves all the way to his forearms before stepping into position across from her. The late afternoon sun warmed the training field, casting long shadows over the grass. “Five more days until the Goodwill Event. That gives us enough time to focus on your cursed energy control first.”

Mika faced him with a straight posture, nodding firmly. “Okay.”

Geto gave a small approving nod. “To start, you need to clear your mind. No distractions. No fear getting to you. No doubts in your head. Just focus your mind.”

Mika straightened her posture, squinting slightly as the sunlight hit her eyes. Her attention shifted when faint voices drifted across the field. She turned just in time to see Gojo and Shoko approaching, both carrying plastic bags stuffed with chips and bottled drinks, like they were heading to a picnic rather than a training field. 

“Brought snacks,” Shoko called out casually. “In case anyone feels like pretending they’re tired later.” She walked toward the field alongside Gojo, heading straight for the bleachers. Shoko placed a paper bag down before sitting beside him.

Gojo cracked open his drink, slurping loudly before lifting a hand in a lazy wave. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here to judge both of you, and maybe laugh in case one of you stumbled,”

Geto glanced in their direction, deadpan. He let out a quiet sigh, hands settling on his hips. Dressed in a black shirt and shorts with white shoes, his hair tied neatly into a bun.

He looked like a high school PE teacher.  Mika almost laughed at the thought.

A small smile crept onto her lips as she tilted her head slightly, her thoughts wandering without permission. She watched as Geto shifted his stance, muscles flexing naturally with the movement. It was all effortless and unintentional. Mika only realized now why people mostly stared at them whenever they went out together. Geto is really eye candy for most women.

So that’s why, she thought, her gaze lingering a second too long. And to think they were looking at me instead.

“Mika,” Geto said, pulling her out of it. “You ready?”

Mika blinked and looked up at him, her lips pursed in mild confusion. “Ready for… what?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Training. About your Cursed energy control. We talked about this five minutes ago.”

Her smile faltered, embarrassment washing over her face. “Ah. Right. That.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know how that slipped my mind. Sorry.”

Geto stared at her for a moment. Mika glanced back, staring into his eyes, her breath almost hitched. Mika wanted to scream out of embarrassment. She couldn’t understand why she felt nervous whenever she stared back at Geto now and then. It was never like this before. It was never this weird. The kind of strange that feels like there are butterflies in her stomach…

“Mika, are you okay?” Geto asked,

“Hmm? Ah, yes, of course, why wouldn’t I?” She says awkwardly,

“You look flustered, your cheeks are red. Are you sick?” He says, his back hand pressed against her forehead. 

Mika quickly recoiled, stepping back and putting distance between them. She tightened her grip on the water bottle, fingers curling around the plastic, her eyes widening just a little.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I think I’m just feeling a bit off. It’s pretty hot in here.”

Geto frowned, clearly puzzled. He lifted his gaze toward the sky, squinting briefly. The sun was blazing, exactly as she said. After a moment, he looked back at her and gave a small nod. “If that’s the case, then we should probably start.”

“Right. Start. Yes, let’s do that,” Mika replied, with her awkward tone. 

She turned and headed toward the grass field to set her bottled water down, but misjudged her step and bumped straight into him. She looked up just in time to see Geto reach out, instinctively steadying her. Mika froze for half a second before pulling away, muttering something under her breath as she hurried past him. She quickly jogged over to her bag and shoved the bottle inside, avoiding his gaze entirely.

What the heck is wrong with me today? Shit…

“Ready, Mika?” Geto asked.

Mika swallowed and forced herself to push her thoughts aside, straightening where she stood and focusing on the training in front of her. “Yes,” 

“Alright. First off, clear your mind,” he instructed.

She paused, her gaze drifting down to the grass beneath her feet, brows knitting together while she actually tried to process that. “Clear my mind… of what, exactly?” she asked, blinking. Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. “How do you even do that?”

Geto nodded, considering her question. “Good question,” he said. “Let’s break it down.”

He stepped closer, positioning himself beside her. His voice softened, though it still carried that calm, instructive tone. “Cursed energy comes from negative emotions. Fear, anger, sadness, frustration. Those feelings are what fuel it. Most people struggle because their emotions are either too unstable or too overwhelming.” He paused briefly before continuing. “Learning to control it takes mental discipline.”

Mika lowered her gaze to her hands, slowly flexing her fingers, trying to process everything he said, turning the words over in her head.

“Now,” Geto continued, “I’m not telling you to get rid of your emotions. That’s not realistic. You just need to acknowledge them, then quiet them down,” he said calmly, with extreme patience. 

“Think of your energy as water in a cup. When your emotions are all over the place, they will move too much and spill. When you stay still and focused, it settles. That’s when you can control where it goes and how it moves.”

Mika exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. “Okay… that actually makes sense.”

“Good,” Geto said with a nod. “Try it now. Close your eyes.”

She hesitated for a brief moment before doing as told. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her hands dropped to her sides, her shoulders slowly relaxing, trying not to overthink it. 

“Focus on your body,” Geto said gently, his voice guiding her without pressure. “Turn your attention inward. Where do you feel the weight of your cursed energy? Can you sense it gathering?”

Mika’s brows furrowed faintly. “It’s… weak,” she muttered, concentrating. “But it’s there. I can feel it in my chest. There’s a sort of pulse.”

“That’s enough,” he replied. “Keep your breathing steady. Draw it out slowly.” He added, “Picture it as a thread inside you. Pull it where you want it to go.”

Mika drew a slow, steady breath, letting it out even more deliberately. A faint chill tingled along her fingertips, and a subtle shimmer of pale blue began to gather over her knuckles, so soft it was almost imperceptible.

From the bleachers, Shoko raised her eyebrows, sipping her drink. “Hey, she’s actually doing it.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Oho? Look at you, Miks. Fancy some glow action.”

Mika’s eyes snapped open, startled by their voices, and the pale shimmer flickered and vanished. She blinked rapidly, annoyance creeping into her expression. “Ugh. I lost it.”

“Don’t worry,” Geto said, gently. “That was good progress. You felt it, you moved it. That’s step one.”

She let out a small sigh, glancing at him with softened eyes. “Thanks… You’re not going to get tired of saying that over and over, are you?”

Geto’s smile was easy, “Not if it’s you.”

Mika blinked, her eyes widening for a moment before she looked away quickly, brushing at her hair. “You’re so cheesy,” she muttered, though the hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

Mika drew another slow breath and straightened her back, letting her shoulders drop into a more relaxed position. Her brows softened, and she shifted her weight slightly, settling into a posture. When she closed her eyes again, the faint glow returned to her fingertips. It felt steadier this time, and a little brighter and more stable than before. Geto watched her carefully, a quiet sense of pride building in his chest. 

“You’re doing it,” he said softly, “Just keep holding that connection. Don’t rush it. No pressure.”

Mika gave a small nod without opening her eyes, focusing all of her attention inward. Her breathing evened out, and for the first time in a long while, the cursed energy felt manageable. It was no longer wild or oppressive. It seemed present, like something she could sense clearly, something she might even be able to shape if she kept her focus.

The shift in the air was subtle at first, almost impossible to miss.

Geto noticed it before he fully realized what was happening. The temperature of the training field began to drop, a crisp chill threading through the warm morning air. A soft breeze swept across the grass, brushing along his skin. 

The sun still hung high and bright, casting its warmth over the field, but the space around them had taken on a sharp, distinct cold. He turned his head slowly, scanning their surroundings. Nothing explained it. The clouds stayed perfectly still, no shadows stretched unnaturally, no curses stirred in the distance. This wasn’t a weather change.

This came from Mika. He thought. 

Shoko, sitting beside Gojo on the bleachers, lifted her brows in surprise. Gojo paused mid-drink, his blue eyes narrowing, the casual amusement on his face fading, while observing the cold shift on the field.

Geto’s attention returned to Mika. She remained perfectly still, her arms relaxed at her sides, her posture perfectly fine. Her eyes stayed closed, and a faint glow pulsed along her fingertips. The cold air around them deepened with each subtle exhale she released, carrying a crispness that made the hairs on his arms lift slightly.

“Mika,” Geto called, carefully not to startle her. 

Her eyes flickered open slowly. She first glanced up at the sky, then scanned the field, her brows knitting together, becoming fully aware of the cold settling around them, her own energy bending the air to her will.

The Ice has awakened. It’s storm-bending to her will. 

✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

Somehow, she felt safer in his arms.

Geto gently pulled back, just enough to see her face, though his arms stayed loosely around her. His gaze moved over her features with concern, watching her closely.

“Everything alright?” he asked softly.

Mika nodded, forcing a small smile. Her heart was still pounding, but she didn’t want him to worry again, not after everything he’d already done for her.

“I’m glad,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t even hear you leave. Where’d you go?”

“I just went out to buy some pens,” she said, bending down to grab the crumpled paper bag she’d dropped earlier.

“Pens?” Geto raised a brow. “What happened to the ones you had?”

“I froze them.”

For a few heartbeats, their silence stretched. Geto blinked, his thoughts racing to understand what he just heard.

“…You did what?”

“I. Froze. Them,” Mika said, enunciating every word. “Yes, I know. I’m apparently a threat to stationery now.”

Geto stared at her, “You’re saying they actually turned into ice?”

“Don’t give me that look,” she said quickly, pointing a finger at him. “It was an accident.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” he laughed, hands raised in defense. “You’re the one going around launching surprise frost assaults on ballpens.”

“They knew the risks when they entered my pencil case,” she retorted in a dramatic tone, crossing her arms.

Geto chuckled, shaking his head. “So, you walked through the city in just a hoodie, all for a fresh stash of stationery?”

“I regret nothing,” she said, lifting the bag with a mock sense of triumph. “Five ballpens, two notebooks, and a whole set of colored tech pens. A complete and noble mission.”

“That’s some devotion,” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Very respectable.”

Someone nearby cleared their throat, and a passing couple slowed down, glancing curiously at the two before walking off with small grins. Mika immediately stepped back, her cheeks warming at the attention.

She exhaled, trying to sound composed. “Anyway. Mission accomplished.”

Geto let out a quiet laugh, leaning slightly to her side. “You could’ve told me you were heading out,” he said. “I would’ve gone with you.”

Mika blinked, caught off guard by his tone. When she looked at him, there wasn’t a trace of teasing on his face. 

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she admitted softly. “You needed sleep.”

“It’s alright with me, Mika,” he said, gently. “You’re not a burden I have to carry. I’m doing this because I want to.”

She stared at him for a moment, words caught in her throat. Her heart felt lighter, a warmth spreading across her chest until she had to look away. “…Okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geto didn’t say anything more. Instead, he reached for the paper bag in her hand, taking it without hesitation. “Come on,” he said, standing up with a faint grin. “Let’s get your recruits home before they freeze over.”

Mika huffed, smacking his arm lightly. “You’re annoying.”

He only smiled. “You say that every time I carry your stuff.”

“You insist on doing it,” she shot back, trying to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

“And you let me,” he said, teasingly. 

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ It was already past ten in the evening. With the dorm kitchen closed and both of them too tired to cook, fast food was the only option left. Geto, ever confident, volunteered to go pick it up, and fully aware that Yaga-sensei had assigned patrols around the dorms to make sure students were asleep.

When he finally appeared at Mika’s door, he was slightly out of breath, one hand gripping the doorframe for support. His uniform jacket was half unbuttoned, and his hair had loosened from its usual neat tie.

Mika raised an eyebrow, still seated on the floor. “You ran here?”

“Had to,” he said between breaths, stepping inside. “Yaga-sensei was making rounds. I barely made it past the courtyard.”

Mika sat down on the tiled floor with a heavy sigh, prying open a steaming box of KFC drumsticks. “We skipped dinner for this?” she muttered, the smell of fried chicken already filling the room.

He sat across from her, legs folding neatly under him as he reached for one of the paper bags. Opening a box of fries with unnecessary precision, he let out a tired but triumphant sigh. “Worth it anyway after Yaga sensei almost caught me again in the hallway. I had to pretend I was a janitor.”

Mika burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking as she clutched a drumstick. “You? With that manbun? You don’t even look like you’ve ever held a broom.”

“I’ll have you know I sweep with cursed grace,” Geto said, tossing a fry into his mouth with exaggerated care. “Besides, this is the most rebellious I’ve felt in a long time. Breaking chicken rules has a certain thrill.”

Mika shook her head, biting into a wing with a smirk. “Yaga-sensei certainly noticed you. He probably just pretends you’re a broom.”

“A janitor,” Geto corrected smoothly, tilting his head.

“No. Broom,” Mika shot back, holding her wing with mock seriousness.

Geto leaned forward, holding a piece of chicken between his fingers, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “So, Mika. Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Mika groaned, already sensing the punchline. “I don’t want to know.”

“To get to the fried side,” he said, 

Mika froze mid-bite, staring at him with a perfectly straight expression. She lifted her drumstick, pointing it at him as a silent warning. “You’re testing my patience, Suguru.”

Geto laughed, pointing a finger at her with a mischievous grin. “Here’s another one—”

“No!” Mika snapped, scowling at him, her fork pausing mid-air.

Ignoring her protest, Geto picked up a chicken nugget and popped it into his mouth. “What do you call a chicken that haunts people?”

Mika leveled him with a warning glare. “Don’t.”

“A poultry-geist,” he said, breaking into laughter and collapsing onto his back on the tiled floor, still wheezing from his own joke.

Mika rolled her eyes, grabbing a napkin and tossing it at his face. “We’re playing the quiet game for the next ten minutes.” She picked up the sundae from the bag and held it toward him. “Try this. It actually tastes good.”

Geto took the cup, raising a brow as he scooped a spoonful. He paused for a moment, letting the sweetness hit his tongue. “KFC ice cream,” he said slowly. “Okay. That’s actually good.”

Mika grinned, “Told you.”

Geto took another careful taste of the ice cream, savoring it with a smug expression. Mika rolled her eyes and leaned forward, extending her hand toward the cup. “Alright, you’re having too much fun,” she said, trying to take it back.

“No way,” Geto replied smoothly, snatching the cup back and holding it just out of her reach.

Mika gasped, leaning closer, her fingers brushing against the edge of the cup. “You—give it back!”

Geto shifted slightly, turning his back and shielding the ice cream with both hands. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he said, his voice muffled by quiet laughter.

Mika scrambled closer, reaching for his arm. “Suguru, I swear—”

He twisted away just enough to keep the cup safe, holding it high and grinning down at her as she lunged. “You can’t take what’s already mine,” he teased.

“Then starve!” Mika shot back, her determination unwavering. With a swift motion, she snatched the spoon from his hand, sitting back triumphantly and waving it in the air.

Geto blinked, a mock expression of horror crossing his face. “You fight dirty.”

Mika stuck out her tongue at him, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now figure out how you’re going to eat that.”

Geto smirked, bringing the ice cream cup close to his lips and teasingly pretending to lick it.

Mika’s eyes widened in horror. “Oi! You’re disgusting!” she yelled, grabbing a pillow and hurling it straight at his face.

The pillow hit him squarely, and Geto erupted into laughter, the sound echoing across the room. Mika couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at her lips, though she quickly shook it off.

“Enough fighting. I’m still hungry,” Mika said, standing and moving back to the table, determined to finish her food. She casually picked up the last fry and took a bite. “By the way, you wanna sleep here?”

Geto raised a brow, smirking teasingly. “Tch. Inviting random people to stay in your dorm now?”

Mika rolled her eyes, reaching over to push his side bangs away from his face. “Yeah, but you’re a goof. You don’t count as people.”

“Ack—!” Geto flinched, jerking his head back. “Says the girl who looks one sneeze away from being diagnosed with anemia.”

“Excuse me!” Mika gasped, throwing her hands in the air with mock indignation. “I’m pale because of ice! I am literally my technique!”

“Okay, okay,” Geto said, grabbing both her wrists before she could continue her exaggerated gestures. “Hold on—what did the guy say to the Ice?”

Mika blinked, suspiciously, “What?”

Geto leaned in slightly, grin widening. “Ice, ice, baby.”

Mika froze, her wrists still caught in his hands, staring at him flatly. “What is wrong with you?”

Geto collapsed into laughter, leaning back on the couch, nearly losing his balance from how hard he was laughing. Mika stared straight ahead, expression blank, silently questioning every life choice that led her to this moment.

“I don’t knoooow!” Geto wheezed, throwing his head back and collapsing sideways.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After dinner, Geto took the few dishes they had used and moved to the sink, sleeves rolled up, ready to wash them. The quiet sound of running water filled the small dorm room, blending with the lingering scent of fried chicken that clung faintly to the air. He rinsed each plate with deliberate care, placing them back in the drawer. 

Mika stood beside him, dipping her fingers into the cool stream for a moment before reaching for a towel. The warmth from the overhead light cast soft shadows across the room, highlighting the tidy clutter of trays and napkins left from their late meal.

“You can sleep in your room now. I’ll be fine here,” Geto said gently, glancing toward the couch with a quiet ease in his expression.

“Huh?” Mika blinked, turning to look at him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he repeated, motioning toward it with a casual gesture, his tone soft but firm.

Mika hesitated, then disappeared into her room. Minutes later, she emerged, wobbling slightly under the weight of something massive,

“What the—what the hell is that?!” Geto exclaimed, standing abruptly, confusion and alarm spreading across his face.

“I have extra foam! We’ll use this one!” Mika chirped, nearly toppling over as the mattress half-covered her body.

“That’s not extra—that’s a wall. Are you sure that’s not from your actual bed?!” Geto rushed forward, grabbing one end before she could tip over.

“No! My bed foam is heavier than this,” Mika said, laughing as she struggled to maneuver it.

“Mika—” He reached out, lifting the entire foam effortlessly from her hands. “Here, give it to me before it swallows you whole.”

“Thanks!” she said, already sliding the coffee table out of the way. “I’ll move this!”

Geto leaned the foam against the wall for a moment. “Alright, I’ll handle the sweeping—”

“Nope!” Mika interrupted, snatching the broom and dustpan with a determined grip. “I’m the host. This is my battlefield.”

“But I want to help. You already did enough—Mika,” he said softly, tilting his head,

She jabbed the broom toward him. “Stand. Back.”

Geto exhaled through his nose, pinching the bridge of it with a sigh. “God, you’re stubborn.”

“Whoo, that’s tiring,” Mika said five minutes later, dramatically wiping imaginary sweat from her forehead, grinning at him triumphantly.

Geto shook his head, a small laugh slipping out. “Go wash up. I’ll finish setting this up.”

“You think I stink?” Mika asked, half-gasping as she lifted an arm and sniffed it suspiciously.

He rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Idiot. You said earlier you were going to take a half bath and do your skincare, remember?”

“Ah! Right, right!” she exclaimed, darting back into her room without another word.

Geto returned his attention to the mattress, smoothing the sheets and carefully spreading the comforter. He paused mid-motion when a pillow suddenly collided with his chest, bouncing lightly before dropping to the floor.

“What the—” Geto muttered, turning around, only to get a pillow smacked squarely into his face, followed immediately by another.

He blinked, frozen for a moment, before glancing up. Mika stood in the doorway, casually tossing pillows one after another, each throw wilder than the last.

“You—” Geto began, catching the third pillow mid-air with both hands. “Mika.”

“Ah! Hahaha! Sorry!” Mika wheezed, clutching her stomach, still gripping the last pillow.

Geto stood there, arms overflowing with pillows, expression blank for a beat before a quiet laugh escaped him. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You, little anemic ice witch.”

“You’re welcome, lunatic monk,” she replied proudly, tossing the final pillow at him with a triumphant flick, as if mic-dropping her victory.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After her quick shower and careful skincare routine, Mika stepped back into the room wearing her cozy Kuromi pajamas—a soft purple button-up top with a small collar and matching shorts. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, a few damp strands framing her face. The faint scent of her shampoo lingered as she moved toward the foam setup.

Geto looked up from where he was fluffing the pillows, his grin spreading immediately. “Kuromi?”

“Do we have a problem with that?” Mika asked, raising a brow as she dropped down beside him.

“Not at all,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s cute.”

Mika rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, stretching her arms above her head before sinking into the soft foam. The mattress dipped slightly beneath her, and she let out a long, content sigh.

“Do you find it hot in here?” she asked after a brief pause, turning her head toward him.

“Not really. Why?”

“I can adjust the temperature if you want,” she said, casually.

“Air conditioning? Mika, it’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“No, silly.” She lifted her hand, a faint blue glow forming around her fingers.

Before Geto could say anything, a cool breeze filled the room. The warmth faded almost instantly, replaced by a crisp, refreshing chill that drifted through the air and brushed against their skin.

He blinked, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’re seriously acting as your own air conditioner?”

“Multi-talented,” she said with a grin, tucking her legs neatly under the blanket.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, lying back down beside her, his tone still laced with humor. “Dangerously convenient.”

Mika let out a soft laugh, her voice calm and sleepy. “You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am,” he replied, turning his head toward her. “You’re a walking winter breeze. Cozy and a little terrifying.”

She snorted quietly, eyes drifting shut. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Geto smiled faintly, watching her for a moment before resting back on the pillow. The air between them settled into a calm ease. The faint hum of the night filled the room, blending with the steady rhythm of their breathing.

The only light came from the small lamp in the corner, casting a soft glow across the space. Geto lay on his back, his hands resting loosely on his stomach, eyes tracing the slow swirl of shadows on the ceiling. Mika was turned toward him, curled slightly, hugging a pillow against her chest. A few loose strands of hair brushed her face, still slightly damp from her shower.

“I haven’t been this close to someone before,” Mika murmured, 

Geto turned his head slightly, brows lifting. “Hm?”

She peeked at him through her lashes, hesitating before speaking again. “Let alone a guy.”

A small smile formed on Geto’s lips. He didn’t answer right away, just watched her with a calm, thoughtful look. Mika pressed her cheek against the pillow, her face faintly warm under the soft light.

“I’m glad you trust me, Mika,” Geto said gently,  “Though I’ll have you know, I’m not just some guy. I’m a full-grown man, thank you very much.”

Mika opened one eye and smirked. “Not sure about that.”

Geto smiled mischievously before leaning over and pinching her cheeks without warning.

“Ah—!” Mika’s eyes flew open, a sharp gasp escaping her, jerking back. Both hands flew to her face, cupping her cheeks protectively. Her lips puffed into a pout, rubbing the sore spots, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Her gaze darted toward her phone on the side table. In an instant, she grabbed it and turned on the front camera. “Ah—my cheek’s red!” she exclaimed, pointing at the faint flush spreading across her left side. She turned to him with a full-blown glare, lips still pursed. “It’s red!”

Geto’s soft laughter filled the room, his voice light and teasing. “Now it looks like a natural blush,” he said, grinning. “Although you’re only glowing on one side.”

Mika frowned even deeper, swatting his arm hard enough to make him flinch. “You’re an asshole!” she snapped, though her tone cracked halfway between anger and laughter.

He leaned back, still chuckling, raising both hands in mock surrender. Mika crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks again, her expression caught between irritation and embarrassment. The faint pink on her skin only made her pout stand out more.

She kept staring at her reflection, lips tugging downward. “I look like a red tomato,” she muttered, still poking at her cheek.

Geto lost it. He burst into full laughter, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to his face to muffle the sound. It didn’t help. His shoulders were shaking too much, his laughter spilling through anyway.

Mika groaned, kicking her feet against the mattress in protest. “It’s not funny!” she whined. Her pout deepened, and she narrowed her eyes at him while he was shaking from his laughter.

When he finally peeked up from the pillow, a teasing smile crept onto his face. Mika huffed again, crossing her arms and turning away from him. The faint pink still lingered on her cheek, and the sight only made Geto laugh harder, his laughter echoing softly through the quiet room while she sulked beside him.

“You stupid monkey,” she grumbled, setting her phone down on the couch before pulling the blanket over her head.

Geto let out a chuckle. He sighs, shaking his head, turning his soft gaze back on her. 

“So... how are you liking the tech so far?”

Mika groaned, lightly swatting his arm with the back of her hand. “You keep asking me that every week.”

“Because I need to be sure,” Geto said, grinning. “What if one day you wake up and say, ‘This place sucks, I’m going back home’?”

She slowly pulled the blanket down, peeking at him. “And that would bother you?”

He shrugged, lying on his back, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling. “It does bother me. I want you to stay.”

Mika’s gaze softened. Her fingers traced the edge of the blanket, absentmindedly folding it between her hands. “I think I’m staying,” she said quietly. “I find comfort here more than where I came from.”

Geto kept his eyes on the ceiling, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thank you, Mika.”

He turned his head to look at her, only to find her already asleep. Her breathing was soft and steady under the blanket. The corners of his mouth lifted, and for a moment, the room felt completely peaceful in a way he hadn’t realized he missed.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The dorm room was quiet, filled only by the low hum of cool air radiating from Mika’s cursed energy and the faint blue light filtering through the blinds. It was almost 4:00 a.m. Geto was lying on his back, one arm over his eyes. It was peaceful and quiet until he let out a huff when he felt a sudden weight pressed against his stomach. He groaned, shifting slightly, and cracked one eye open. His gaze dropped, and his expression went flat.

He stared down at the leg on his stomach. Its leg is covered with a Kuromi purple pajama. Geto turned his head and found Mika sprawled sideways across the mattress, her hair sticking out in every direction, half of it covering her face. She was hugging her pillow tightly, her cheek squished against it, breathing softly.

Geto blinked, sighing quietly. “You’re beautiful when you sleep,” he muttered under his breath. He gently moved her leg aside, careful not to wake her. Just as he was about to rest again, her leg fell right back, landing squarely on his thigh. He stared at the ceiling, his face blank. 

“Seriously,” he mumbled, his voice deadpan, as Mika continued to sleep without a care in the world.

After a moment, he turned onto his side and reached out, gently nudging her shoulder with careful fingers. “Mika,” he whispered, his voice low and patient. “Hey, Mika. Wake up a little. You’re about to hit your head on the wall. Let’s fix your pillow, yeah?”

Mika only groaned, a sound halfway between a sigh and a complaint. She was completely lost in a deep sleep. Geto let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Alright, alright,” he murmured under his breath, his tone softening, “I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” The word slipped out naturally before he even noticed.

He eased a hand beneath her shoulder, lifting her just enough to adjust her pillow properly. She slumped forward again as soon as he was done, sinking back into the mattress without resistance. Now lying on her stomach, her cheek pressed gently against the pillow, she breathed evenly, completely peaceful and unaware of the chaos she had caused earlier.

Geto couldn’t help but smile, his eyes softening as he brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face. Her features softened in sleep. He lingered his eyes for a second longer, watching her chest rise and fall before lying down beside her again, the faintest laugh escaping him. 

He shook his head and whispered quetly, “You fight curses with elegance, but sleep like a toddler in a tornado.”

She mumbled something incoherent and tugged the blanket higher around her shoulders like a burrito. He watched her for another moment before slowly closing his eyes, drifting back to sleep. 

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

It was a little past seven in the morning when sunlight began slipping through the curtains, scattering faint streaks of gold across the dorm room. Suguru Geto was still fast asleep, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting over his chest.

Beside him, Mika had managed to turn sleep into a full-contact sport. At some point in the night, she had rolled onto her back, a large pillow draped over her torso as if it had landed there mid-dream and decided to stay. Her head rested directly on the foam, hair sticking up in every possible direction, strands tangled into chaotic tufts. Mika being true to her midnight habits, one leg was once again sprawled across Suguru’s thigh in complete disregard for personal space.

The room would have stayed peaceful, with the slow rhythm of their breathing, until a sharp knock shattered the silence, followed by a familiar voice, calling them with urgency and irritation. 

“Suguru! Mika! Open the door! Hurry up!”

Suguru’s brows furrowed, his lips parting in a low groan as he blinked his way out of sleep. The voice outside was unmistakable, already testing his patience this early. Beside him, Mika stirred, frowning in confusion, still caught between sleep and wakefulness. She mumbled incoherently, clutching the pillow tighter, unaware that her leg was still firmly anchored to his thigh.

Another series of knocks followed, more insistently loud this time.

“Suguru! MIKAAAA!”

Suguru groaned, dragging both hands down his face. He sat up slowly, blinking at the door with mild disbelief. “It’s too early for this,” he muttered underneath his breath.

Beside him, Mika stirred, her voice muffled and groggy. “Why does everyone knock so early in the morning…” she mumbled, her words slurring together, kicking her feet weakly against the mattress. Her hair was a mess, half covering her face, and her eyes were barely open, still fighting to stay asleep.

Suguru turned toward her, he reached over and ran his fingers through her tangled hair, gently smoothing it down. “I’ll handle it,” he said softly,

Mika made a small noise of acknowledgement. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, then grabbed the nearest pillow and buried her face into it, cocooning herself once again. Within moments, her breathing evened out, already slipping back into peaceful oblivion. Suguru shook his head, faintly. He stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders before running a hand through his disheveled hair. The sight of her still sprawled on the mattress made him smile.

He finally walked to the door, twisting the lock open. Shoko stood outside, her brows furrowed. She lifted her finger, pointing at him.  “I knew it! You’re here!” she says accusingly. “And why?”

Suguru leaned lazily against the doorframe, one arm crossed over his chest. “To deliver chicken,”

Shoko blinked once. “At seven in the morning?” She narrowed her eyes, seconds later, “You’re not funny.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Seriously.”

He exhaled, dropping the sarcasm. “Mika invited me. We got caught up by time, and they're already patrolling outside. That’s all.”

Shoko eyed him for a beat, arms crossed over her chest, “Well, alright then.”

Suguru shrugged slightly, “So what brought you to her door this early?”

“Oh, right,” Shoko said, pulling her phone from her back pocket and shoving the screen into his face. “Next week is the Goodwill Event. Yaga-sensei’s announcing it today. We’re supposed to be at the morning briefing.”

Suguru squinted at the calendar. “Already? Next week?”

“Yes. Do you read announcements at all?”

He groaned quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of all weeks…”

Shoko smirked. “Already complaining and it hasn’t even started.”

“Do you know how annoying Kyoto students are?”

“Maybe. But not as annoying as you,” Shoko fires back, 

Suguru shook his head with a lazy smile. “Fine. I’ll tell Mika when she wakes up.”

Shoko tilted her head toward the room. “Still asleep?”

Suguru gave a small nod. “Passed out. Pillow across her chest like it’s her personal shield. I’m not risking waking her again.”

Shoko snorted. “You’re already sounding like a married man.”

“I’m not responding to that.”

She took a few steps back. “Tell her to be in the classroom by 11am. No excuses.”

“I’ll pass it along,” he said, slowly closing the door as she walked off.

Once back inside, he returned to the little makeshift bed and looked at Mika, who hadn’t moved an inch since he left. She was still curled up, peaceful and dead to the world, one hand dangling off the edge of the foam, the other holding tightly onto her pillow.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The room was quiet and peaceful, filled only with the soft hum of the electric stove and the gentle clatter of utensils. Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting warm streaks across the walls and floor. The faint aroma of breakfast hung in the air, giving the place a cozy, lived-in feel. 

Mika stirred beneath the blanket, turning to her side while her eyes slowly blinked open. Her vision stayed hazy, thoughts scattered and floating somewhere between sleep and waking. For a moment, her mind was empty, still clinging to the quiet of her dreams. She let out a small yawn, stretched one arm, then rubbed her eyes, face soft with drowsiness.

“I’m still sleepy…” she muttered to herself, body refusing to accept that morning had already started.

Her thoughts were corrupted with a smell of delicious bacon and eggs, making her eyes snap at her kitchen. She saw Suguru cooking, his back facing her as he moved calmly around the stove. He wore a plain black shirt and soft gray pajama pants. His hair was tied in a bun again, and he moved with quiet precision, flipping the eggs with an easy, practiced rhythm.

Mika pushed herself up from the foam, dragging her feet across the floor until she reached the small dining table. She didn’t say anything, still half-trapped in sleep. She sat down heavily on the chair, resting her arms on the table with a soft thud. Her messy hair hung over her face, strands brushing her eyes, but she didn’t bother fixing it.  Suguru glanced over his shoulder at her with a small smile. 

“Good morning, zombie,” he said, teasingly. 

Mika blinked slowly, her chin resting on the table,  “What time is it…?”

“Past eight,” Geto replied, turning back to the pan. “You slept through your alarm. Twice.”

Mika groaned into her arm. “And you didn’t wake me up?”

“You looked like you were winning a war in your dreams. I didn’t want to interfere,” he smirks.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t even dream… Most of the time.”

“Tell that to your pillow. It’s been through enough.”

Mika blinked a few times while her consciousness settled in. She rubbed the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, checking if she drooled. When she confirmed she was safe from embarrassment, she let out a quiet sigh and shuffled toward the counter where Geto was already busy.

She stood beside him, leaning forward a little to peek into the pan. The heat rising from the stove warmed her face.

"That smells good," she muttered, groggily. “Good thing you didn’t burn my kitchen”

Geto glanced at her, an amused huff leaving his chest. He reached over and tapped the top of her head, “Brat.”

A moment later, Geto brought a plate over and set it in front of her with quiet finality. The eggs held their shape, soft and lightly folded. The bacon had a crisp edge, and the rice sent up a steady warmth that hinted at seasoning he didn’t bother announcing. He pushed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks into her hands before she could protest.

A moment later, he returned from the stove and set a plate in front of her. The eggs were soft and warm, the bacon crisp at the edges, and the rice steamed gently, carrying the scent of butter and seasoning. He placed a spoon and chopsticks beside the plate before stepping back.

“Here. Eat. You’ll wake up faster.”

Mika straightened in her seat, blinking at the meal. Her stomach grumbled loud enough for Geto to hear, which only made her cheeks warm.

He settled into the chair across from her, resting an elbow on the table while scooping a mouthful of rice. His hair was still slightly messy from sleep, giving him a softer look than usual.

“You cooked this for me?” she asked, her voice still sluggish from just waking up.

“No. I cooked for myself,” he said, chewing calmly. “You just happen to live here and benefit from my morning generosity.”

Mika shot him a flat stare before taking a bite. The warmth of the food spread through her chest almost immediately, easing the heaviness of her half-awake state. She took another spoonful, slower this time, letting the flavors settle.

Her shoulders loosened. Her eyes drifted back to him, “Thank you.”

Geto looked up at her, a small smile forming without hesitation. “Anytime.”

“Oh, by the way,” Geto said casually between bites, “Yaga-sensei’s going to talk about the Goodwill Event in class later.”

Mika froze mid-chew. A strip of bacon hung from her lips. “What’s that?”

Geto glanced at her, “You don’t know the event?”

She shook her head slowly, stuffing a piece of bread into her mouth right after, looking even more lost than before.

Geto leaned back slightly and let out a light chuckle, unable to help himself. “It’s a tradition. The Kyoto and Tokyo branches host a friendly battle every year. The second and third years have to participate. They call it training and bonding, but everyone just uses it to hit each other without getting scolded.”

“Oh,” Mika muttered, 

“You’ve never joined before?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “I remember fighting a bunch of Kyoto students last year. I don’t remember seeing you there.”

Mika swallowed her food and shrugged, “Didn’t join. I backed out. My seniors were assholes. Didn’t want to deal with them.” 

Geto’s grin widened, a knowing look settling on his face. “I get that. Ours weren’t much better. They hated me and Satoru.”

“Why?”

He let out a short laugh, “Because we’re special grades. And Satoru has this strange talent for irritating people by just standing in the same room. That attitude of his makes it hard for anyone to ignore him.”

Mika smirked and leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table. “And you? Why’d they hate you?”

“I stood next to him,” Geto replied without missing a beat, a grin tugging at his mouth. “If they couldn’t beat the strongest, they settled for hating whoever walked beside him.”

“You really stood by him?” Mika asked, her curiosity rising as she watched him.

“Well, I couldn’t just let him go off and start a war on his own. The guy’s an egotistical warrior,” Geto said, shaking his head.

Mika chuckled softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “So… it’s basically a fist fight?”

“More or less,” Geto replied confidently, “But with cursed techniques. Full power, serious combat. Think of it as a tournament, only with a little more blood and a lot more pride on the line.”

Mika nodded slowly, her mind piecing together the picture he painted. “Ah… so it’s not all friendly brawls then.”

“Nope. More of a proving ground,” he added. She paused, chewing another piece of bacon, before he casually dropped another detail. “I remember last year… I fought your brother, Mikael.”

Mika’s head snapped up, surprise flashing in her expression. “Seriously? Who won?”

Geto’s lips curved into a smug smirk. “Me.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re kidding. Mikael’s the strongest in our clan when it comes to combat. Always has been.”

Geto inclined his head slightly, a note of respect in his voice. “He’s strong. No question about that. He gave me a real fight. I had to dig deep. Sharp, fast, precise. I respect him for it.”

Mika blinked, letting his words sink in. She leaned back slowly, her brows drawing together as she processed the thought. If Mikael, the pride of their clan in combat, could lose to Geto, then Geto’s strength had to be on an entirely different level.

She shook her head slightly, snapping her gaze back to him. “Are you stronger than Satoru in combat?” she asked, curiously. 

Geto met her eyes and tilted his head thoughtfully. “It depends. Sometimes I win. Sometimes he does. We push each other. It balances out.”

Mika gave a slow, contemplative nod, resting her chin on her palm. “You make it sound normal. That it’s no big deal, that you’re both insanely strong.”

Geto let out a quiet, amused chuckle. “It’s just what we do, Mika. Strength doesn’t mean anything if you’re not grounded. And I happen to like staying grounded.”

Mika stayed quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of her coffee mug in absentminded circles. Steam rose from the cup, curling around her face, staring at the faint ripples on the surface.

“I don’t think I want to join,” she says quietly, 

Geto looked up from his own plate,  “Why not?” he asked carefully.

Mika gave a faint shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I’m not ready. I haven’t fully mastered any of my techniques, and the event is mostly close combat. Fistfighting won’t do me any good. I’ll probably end up freezing something I shouldn’t, or panicking again. I’d just embarrass myself.”

Geto didn’t respond immediately. He watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, shoulders slightly hunched, the tension in her posture revealing more than her words did. For a moment, she seemed smaller—not in size, but in the way uncertainty pressed against her chest. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“That’s not true,” he said gently. “I’ve seen you fight, Mika. I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

She glanced at him for a fraction of a second, then quickly returned her gaze to the coffee. “When? During that mission where I got trapped inside a domain?” she said, dryly. 

“Exactly,” Geto said, a small, earnest smile tugging at his lips. “You triggered a domain. Do you even realize how rare and powerful that is? You didn’t just defend yourself—you reshaped the battlefield.”

Mika snorted softly,  “Or maybe when we failed that mission, the first one I ever had here?”

“Another point in your favor,” Geto replied easily,  “That mission was a trap from the start. More special-grade curses were buried under that altar than anyone expected. It was never going to be a clean win. But you still stood your ground. You faced two special grades. You didn’t run.”

Mika only nodded faintly, lifting her cup to take a slow sip of coffee. The warmth seeped into her chest, easing some of the tightness she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“I saw how you handled yourself,” Geto continued. “You’ve got instincts. You’ve got power. Even without unleashing a full technique, you kept fighting. That counts.”

She lowered her cup and finally met his gaze, “You were stabbed. How would you know what happened?”

Geto’s grin widened, “I was stabbed, not dead. I still remember everything. You didn’t freeze up. You protected me.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, letting his fingers rest lightly over hers. “Just… think about it, okay?” he said softly. “If you decide to join, I’ll help you train. You won’t be alone in this. I promise.”

His words settled in her chest. Mika didn’t respond immediately. She stared down at their joined hands, her fingers slowly pressing against his, “…Alright,” she whispered, “I’ll think about it.”

Geto’s lips curved into a small smile. He ran his thumb slowly across her knuckles. “That’s all I ask.”

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The morning sun poured gently through the classroom windows of Tokyo Jujutsu High, painting faint warmth across the floor. The air was cool, carrying a faint trace of autumn as it drifted past the paper-paneled walls. It was too quiet—eerily so. Even Mika thought it was unusual for a Monday morning.

She sat by the window, her arms folded loosely over her lap. Her gaze wandered outside, following the slow dance of leaves stirred by the breeze. Her uniform was impeccable—navy blue with clean folds, the collar tucked perfectly beneath its pale trim. Her hair, once neatly tied in a bun, had loosened from the rush earlier that morning, a few strands falling gently against her face. She didn’t bother fixing them.

The classroom door slid open. Footsteps echoed softly across the wooden floor.

Suguru Geto stepped inside, his dark uniform slightly undone at the sleeves, the fabric brushing against his wrists as he carried a faint air of ease. His hair was tied neatly, a few stray locks falling against his cheek, glancing around. 

He crossed the room, hands in his pockets, weaving past the neatly arranged cushions and low desks before stopping beside her.

“Morning,” he said, voice low and casual, settling down next to her without waiting for an invitation.

Mika blinked, slowly turning her eyes from the trees to his sleeve brushing near hers. “Morning,” she murmured back, still not looking directly at him.

Geto leaned slightly forward, resting an arm on his desk. “You’re early. That’s new.”

“First time for everything,” Mika said casually, tilting her head toward him. “Besides, I already showered after you left this morning.”

Geto leaned back on his seat, a small laugh escaping him. “You make it sound like I snuck out in shame. I had to sneak back to my dorm before Yaga-sensei did a roll call. He almost caught me in the hallway earlier.”

Mika turned to him with a small smirk. “Not just earlier, he almost caught you last night, too.”

Geto frowned in mock offense. “I’m pretty sure I hid well.”

She gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Uh-huh. Because pretending to be a janitor with a broom and bucket at midnight screams ‘nothing suspicious here.’”

Geto chuckled harder this time, rubbing the back of his neck. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, if he does catch me, I’ll just greet him good evening.”

Mika laughs, finding comfort in Suguru Geto’s presence. There’s something in him that will always be her safe space. She turns her attention back to the window, watching the birds flying. Shoko and the others haven’t arrived yet, mainly because Yaga-sensei says that there will be no classes, and he will only announce the goodwill event that will take place in a few weeks or so. 

“GOOD MORNING!” The doors flew open with a loud bang.

Gojo Satoru walked in, sunglasses lazily resting on his nose despite being indoors. His white hair was in its usual mess, his uniform half-unbuttoned, and his grin far too energetic for the early hour. He moved with an exaggerated bounce, dropping onto a wooden chair with a dramatic sigh, making it creak under his weight.

Shoko followed soon after him.  A cigarette tucked behind her ear though it remained unlit. She gave a short nod to Mika and Geto before collapsing onto her desk, already looking tired of the day.

A moment later, the second year students arrived, Kento Nanami adjusted his sleeves with his usual precision, while Yu Haibara stepped in with a bright smile, practically glowing with morning energy.

“Good morning, senpai!” Haibara greeted, cheerfully.

Gojo raised a hand in response without turning his head. “Yo.”

Nanami gave a polite bow. “We were told there would be a meeting.”

“That’s what it looks like,” Shoko said, shrugging.

After a steady tick from the clock, the classroom door slid open once more. Yaga-sensei stepped inside, his tall frame immediately commanding attention. His shadow stretched briefly across the tatami floor before he stopped in front of the class. The room fell silent, and everyone straightened in their seats.

He placed a clipboard on the desk and lifted his gaze toward the students.

“I’ll make this brief,” he said in his deep, steady voice. “Next week marks the start of this year’s Goodwill Event. It will be held in Kyoto. All of you are expected to attend, unless I receive a proper reason not to—one that doesn’t involve laziness or personal schemes.”

His eyes landed on Gojo for a moment. The white-haired sorcerer offered a quick grin, but Yaga continued without reacting.

“This year, the third-year students—Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Mika—will serve as the senior representatives from Tokyo. You are to guide the younger students and maintain the standard expected of upperclassmen.”

Geto gave a small nod, and Shoko acknowledged the statement with a quiet hum. Gojo raised a hand in mock enthusiasm, earning a glance from Yaga. Mika stayed seated by the window, her hands resting on her lap. She listened carefully, and said nothing. 

“As for our second years,” Yaga went on, “Nanami and Haibara, this will be your first participation in the event. It’s both a training exercise and a combat assessment between the two schools. While the fights won’t be to the death, you must treat them as if they were. Curses don’t show mercy, and neither will the Kyoto students.”

Haibara’s expression shifted, his earlier enthusiasm fading into a trace of worry. Nanami, on the other hand, stayed composed, nodding with quiet resolve.

“Team dynamics will be arranged later in the week. Dismissed.” Yaga’s voice left no room for argument. He turned and exited, the soft click of the door echoing through the room.

Silence lingered for a few seconds before Gojo leaned back in his chair. “Well,” he said, a grin tugging at his face, “another year, another brawl with Kyoto. Anyone excited to punch some cocky bastard in the face?”

“Didn’t you say that last year too?” Shoko asked, raising a brow. 

“Yeah, and I meant it both times,” Gojo replied, clearly pleased with himself.

Haibara leaned toward Nanami, lowering his voice. “Should we be worried?”

Nanami’s eyes shifted toward him, calm but certain. “Definitely.”

“Still thinking about it?” Geto asked quietly, leaning a little closer to her.

Mika gave a small nod. “It’s a lot to take in. But… I think I’ll join.”

Geto’s lips curved into a gentle smile. He reached under the desk and tapped her hand lightly, a simple gesture that carried warmth. “You don’t really have a choice. Yaga-sensei doesn’t accept unreasonable excuses.”

“That too,” Mika replied, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

“Then it’s settled,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you the whole way.”

She turned to him, her expression easing. A quiet smile formed on her face, and Geto returned it with the same softness. His hand rested over hers for a moment, his thumb brushing against her skin before giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand touch was brief, but enough to leave a quiet stir in her chest.

The ice felt itself yielding, beginning to melt in the hands of the serene curse manipulator.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

Mika waited by the stairs near the gates, her gaze fixed on the quiet path ahead. Satoru was supposed to arrive today. After the call she made, it turned out the idiot had decided to return to the Jujutsu Institute, his way of running from the suffocating preparations for his role as the next head of his clan.

She almost pitied him. The weight of a family’s expectations was something she understood too well. The elders never showed mercy when it came to preserving their pride. She had witnessed her twin brother, Mikael, endure that burden countless times. As the Ascendant of their clan, mistakes were forbidden for him. Each step he takes has to be measured, and every decision is being watched.

She and her siblings, the Aureates, were raised to fight beside him, to be his support and shield, and to uphold the name their blood carried. Discipline and duty were all they had known since childhood.

But Mika was never perfect. She stumbled where others didn’t. Her technique, the snow, the ice, the relentless cold, was never a gift to her. It haunted her, clinging to her skin and breath until she could barely tell where it ended and she began. She hated it in every form it took, in every silence it brought.

Yet as a sorcerer, she had no choice. She’s necessarily needed to live with it for her own survival. Doesn’t matter whether she accepts that fate or not. 

She checked her phone screen. It was already 5:00 p.m., and the sun would set soon. Her eyes shifted toward the gates at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the arrival she both expected and dreaded.

Moments later, a black limousine rolled to a stop in front of the entrance. The driver stepped out first, dressed neatly in a formal suit, followed by another attendant from the passenger side. One went to retrieve the suitcases from the trunk, while the other opened the door. Apparently, it was for a brat.

“YAHOO~! FINALLY HOME AT LAST!”

Gojo Satoru shot out of the limousine with the energy of someone who had been locked away for months. He was wearing a plain white shirt, offensively blue shorts, oversized sunglasses, and black sandal slippers that completed the image of a man who had given up on formality. For someone destined to lead one of the most powerful clans in Japan, he looked more like a disaster on vacation.

Mika stared at him in silence. “Are you sure you’re supposed to be the next head of the Gojo Clan?”

Gojo clutched his chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? That was completely uncalled for.”

Mika remained expressionless as she watched him skip up the stairs, beaming as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Behind him, the two butlers carried his luggage through the gates with quiet efficiency.

“You seriously made them carry your stuff?” Mika asked, raising a brow.

“Made?” Gojo repeated, feigning innocence. “Please. I merely blinked, and they volunteered. Strongest sorcerer perks. Deluxe service only.”

“Right,” she said flatly. “No threats involved at all?”

“Zero. Zip. Nada,” Gojo said, flashing a smug grin. “All my pure charm.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving off cult-leader energy,” Mika replied, unimpressed.

Gojo glared at her playfully, “Keep that up, and I won’t give you the souvenir I brought back.”

Mika’s eyes brightened, and before he could react, she grabbed his arm with alarming enthusiasm. “Kidding! Satoru-sama, the most powerful, kind-hearted, generous, and stunningly handsome man in the world~!”

Gojo’s grin returned in full force. “Now that’s more like it.”

They walked past the gates, Gojo talking endlessly as usual. He went on about how dull his vacation had been, complaining that every dinner felt like a meeting and that he’d tried to sneak away more than once. The only part he actually enjoyed, according to him, was being allowed to wander through the city, and buying things he didn’t need, overeating at convenience stores, and doing all of it under the watchful eyes of his bodyguards.

Gojo glanced sideways at Mika, a teasing glint already forming in his eyes. “Where’s Suguru, by the way?”

“He’s still asleep,” Mika answered casually, “I told him to rest. He got tired after all that driving.”

“Ohhh.” Gojo grins, “You tired him out?”

Mika stopped walking, her eyes widening as she turned sharply toward him. “Fuck you.”

Gojo burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Oi! Don’t glare at me like that! It wasn’t me who said it!” he wheezed between laughs. “Suguru’s mom texted me, alright? She told me she walked in on the two of you in bed, panting, Mika! Panting!”

“SCREW YOU!” Mika smacked Gojo’s arm, her cheeks burning red. “It’s not what you think!”

Gojo immediately mimicked her in an exaggerated falsetto, fluttering his lashes. “It’s not what you think,” he mocked, clutching his chest dramatically.

Mika groaned, running a hand through her hair. “She just happened to walk in while we were—uh—under a blanket,” she said defensively, glaring at him. “That’s it!”

“Under the same blanket?” Gojo pressed, raising a brow.

“Yes! We—ugh!” Mika stumbled over her words, her frustration growing. “We hid under the blanket, you understand?”

Gojo tilted his head, pretending to think deeply. “And why exactly were you hiding under the blanket?”

“Because his mom was outside knocking!” Mika blurted out, her tone rising as she tried to explain herself. “And that—and it’s—it’s not what you think!”

Gojo burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. Mika smacked his arm again, face burning hotter. “Stop laughing! It wasn’t funny, we panicked!”

“First of all—why were you in his bed, hmm?” Gojo smirked, wiggling his brows.

“Because I couldn’t sleep in the guest room, for some reason I will never know!” Mika glares at him.

“Awieeee~ poor baby needs a snuggle buddy?” Gojo stuck out his tongue like a five-year-old.

“Screw you, Satoru,” Mika deadpanned.

Gojo cackled. “You two are too young to be making little Sugurus and little Mikas, okay? Like, chill.”

“I said it’s not what you think!” she repeated, not aware of how many times that line escapes her defensively,

“Blehhhh~” Gojo teased, sticking out his tongue again. “You slept in his bed. You got caught. You—” Before he could finish, Mika casually reached behind his neck and pinched. “ACK—OI! THAT HURTS!” Gojo yelped, wiggling like a distressed jellyfish. “YOU’RE GONNA DAMAGE THE MOST HANDSOME NECK IN JAPAN!”

“Oh no. What a tragedy,” Mika said flatly. “I might lose sleep.”

Gojo rubbed his neck dramatically. “I’m gonna sue. Call my lawyer. Tell Suguru he needs to avenge me.”

“I will throw you down the stairs.”

Gojo held up both hands. “Violence is never the answer, Mika. Unless it’s hilarious. Then I support it.”

Mika stopped walking, her hand lingering on her sides. The cool air brushed against her face, faintly carrying the scent of dusk. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her mind drifted back to the reason she had called him here in the first place. The weight of it pressed against her chest was quiet but heavy.

Does Satoru really know? Does he know domains?

She turned slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye. Gojo was still grinning, hands in his pockets, completely unaware, or pretending to be. His carefree presence only deepened the uncertainty twisting inside her.

“By the way… I need your help,” Mika said quietly, her tone shifting from playful to serious.

Gojo stopped mid-step, glancing at her. “With what?”

“Domain Expansion,” she answered, her eyes steady and deliberate. “Or at least… I figured you’d know something about it.”

Gojo blinked, his usual grin fading into mild surprise. “Ah—right. Suguru mentioned you pulled one off during your last mission.”

Mika frowned. “He told you?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly volunteer to tell the story,” Gojo said, scratching his head. “Your brother Mikael cornered him after the mission. Grabbed him by the collar while you were still stuck in the infirmary. Suguru looked like he was ready to write his will on the spot.”

Mika exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course he did.”

Gojo chuckled under his breath. “You Montclairs really know how to make a man sweat.” He stared back at her when he noticed her slight irritation about her brother. “Well, on the other hand, Mikael was losing it. Apparently, none of us knew you were even capable of a Domain yet.”

“I didn’t,” Mika admitted quietly. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “It just… happened. I didn’t understand it. I still don’t.”

Gojo came to a stop, turning to face her fully. The faint light of sunset cast long shadows across the path, tracing the outline of her tense frame. His usual humor was gone. It was replaced by a stern focus that carried an unsettling weight.

“Alright,” he said, his voice lowering, “Here’s the thing. Domain Expansion isn’t just a strength. It’s the height of jujutsu itself. It’s where technique meets the core of who you are. When you open one, you’re not only wielding your cursed energy. You’re exposing your soul, manifesting it, and forcing the world to bend to what you are.”

His words lingered in the air, the kind that left no room for denial. Mika’s heartbeat echoed faintly in her ears, nodding slowly in understanding. 

“It’s the creation of your own world,” Gojo continued, “Your rules. Your air. Everything inside it mirrors you, what you fear, what you desire, and what defines the core of your cursed energy.”

Mika fell silent, staring at the space ahead. Her thoughts were scattered, her mind refusing to connect with what he was saying. Understanding his words should have been simple, but it wasn’t. The problem wasn’t in hearing him but rather was how to remember. To grasp what he meant, she would have to recall what happened during that mission, and that was something her mind refused to do.

Gojo tilted his head slightly, watching her. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

She shook her head, “I don’t remember anything at all. I know what happened before and when Suguru came to help me, but after that, after I used the Domain, it’s all gone. Everything that happened inside it… I can’t recall a single thing.”

Gojo stopped walking. He blinked once, fixing his gaze on her, “Is that supposed to happen when you cast a Domain?” he muttered, then narrowed his eyes toward the ground. “No… it shouldn’t. I may not have created my own domain yet, but I am certain that’s not how it works.”

Mika sighed, “Suguru said there was snow, gravestones, and a storm. That’s all he told me. He didn’t want to tell me more after seeing how hard I tried to remember.”

Gojo frowned, his expression darkening. “Snow and graves, huh…” He exhaled slowly, “I can’t make a proper analysis yet, but based on what you’ve said, that might not be a Domain you created. It could be one that was already inside you, something waiting to surface under pressure.”

Mika lifted her head, a faint crease forming between her brows. “What does that mean?”

Gojo’s gaze sharpened. “It means there’s more buried within you than you realize. And if we don’t uncover it soon, that Domain might not stay yours. It’ll start deciding for you.”

The silence pressed down on them, heavier with each passing second. The air grew tense, and Mika’s frown slowly tightened. He said that’s not supposed to happen when a sorcerer casts a Domain. So… does that mean what’s happening to me isn’t normal?

Gojo let out a quiet breath, the tension easing from his face. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, “Well. You came to the right person. Lucky you, I’m the expert.”

Mika glanced at him, unimpressed. “…I thought you were being trained to be the next head of the clan, not a therapist.”

“Hey!” Gojo shot back, flashing a grin. “I multitask.” He straightened, tone shifting to mock authority. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything you remember from that Domain. Every sound, every scene, even the smallest thing that crossed your mind. Got it?”

“But what you said, what I did is a Domain, right?” Mika asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

Gojo nodded slowly. “Technically, yes. You triggered a full manifestation, even if it was raw and unstable.” He rubbed the back of his neck before turning to her. “But here’s the thing… Domains don’t just appear out of nowhere. It’s possible—just possible—that you’ve been forming it deep inside for a long time. Maybe even since you were younger.”

“Younger?” Mika blinked. “Wait, there’s an age requirement to develop one?”

Gojo snorted. “No. Domains aren’t some puberty milestone, okay? You don’t wake up on your eighteenth birthday suddenly ready to cast one and sign a lease.”

Mika raised an eyebrow. “…That’s oddly specific.”

“Point is,” Gojo said, lifting a finger, “Domains don’t follow a schedule. They take shape based on you—your cursed technique, your emotions, your instincts. They’re an extension of your core. The more in tune you are with your cursed energy, the stronger and clearer your Domain becomes.”

Mika tilted her head, squinting slightly. Gojo sighed, already recognizing that expression. "Alright, listen carefully," Gojo sighed. "A Domain Expansion is basically you forcing the world to play by your rules. For example, if it were my domain, it would be my territory, brought into reality. Inside, my cursed technique is a guaranteed hit, and there's no escaping it. This space is a physical manifestation of my inner world, but pulling it off requires a massive amount of Cursed Energy and exhausts my technique for a time. That's the price for a moment of absolute power."

“But I didn’t make mine,” Mika murmured. “There were graves, snow… everything Suguru mentioned. I didn’t choose any of that.”

Gojo’s tone shifted, his usual grin fading. “Exactly. Which means your cursed energy chose for you. Which means your trauma did.” He folded his arms, his gaze steady. “Domains are born from instinct, fear, obsession, whatever’s buried deepest inside you. Some sorcerers train for years to create one. Others just… reach their breaking point, and it bursts out on its own. That’s what happened to you.”

“I see,” Mika muttered, her mind still processing the information. “How about yours?”

Gojo, sensing the weight in the air, spoke up quickly. “Mine hasn’t manifested yet either. Not officially.”

Mika blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

He shrugged with an easy grin. “Hey, I’m Gojo Satoru. I don’t need a Domain to win.”

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrected, wagging a finger at her. “There’s a difference.” He smirked, then continued,  “But I’ve studied the theory. Domains are your soul yelling at the world. So if you saw graves and snow…” He nodded lightly, “…then maybe your soul’s been carrying the weight of loss for longer than you think. Even if you never said it.”

Mika stayed silent, her eyes lowering. There’s too much I’ve been through. I don’t even know which one pushed me far enough to make a Domain.

Gojo slumped, his playful grin appeared, “But that’s only part of it. The good news? It’s awake now. We can study it. Next time it shows up, we’ll make sure it’s not your emotions calling the shots.” He gave her a small, confident smile. “You will be.”

“So… what should I do?” Mika asked, her tone uncertain as she shifted her weight on her feet.

Gojo tapped his chin, pretending to think deeply, then suddenly snapped his fingers. “Simple. Activate your Domain.”

Her eyes flew wide. “What?!”

“You heard me,” he said with that infuriatingly calm grin, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Let’s see it. Right here. Right now.”

“Wait, hold on—what?” Mika stepped back in disbelief. “That’s insane. I could have the advantage this time. What if I end up hurting you?”

Gojo chuckled, waving off her concern. “Please. I’m not that easy to hurt.”

“But Suguru told you I nearly died last time,” she argued. “What if I lose control again?”

“Mika,” Gojo said evenly, “how are we supposed to understand your Domain if you’re too scared to face it? You can’t control something that you keep running away from.”

Mika clenched her fists, her thoughts spinning in chaos—Satoru’s strong. I don’t have to worry about him. He can escape any Domain without effort… But me, my mind, my body… I still have no idea what happens when I’m inside. I don’t remember what I do. I don’t even know if I’m myself in there.

“I’ll be fine,” Gojo said, he lightly shrugged, “If things get out of hand, I’ll break out. I’ll figure out a counter without hurting you. That’s my promise.”

Mika swallowed hard, the tension in her chest tightening. “…Okay.”

Satoru waited patiently, and in a single blink, the air turned cold. The temperature dropped so suddenly that Satoru’s breath misted in front of him. He lifted his head, eyes narrowing against the cold. “That’s how fast you activated your Domain? I didn’t even hear you say it—Mika?”

He started walking, scanning his surroundings. Snow began to fall, thin and soundless, dusting the empty ground. The landscape stretched endlessly, a pale void with no sign of life, no sound except the quiet hum of wind. Satoru moved forward, each step echoing faintly against the silence. He couldn’t sense danger, nor could he feel Mika’s presence anywhere around him. It was as if the world itself had gone still.

He exhaled through his nose and gave a small nod. “I see,” he muttered. “Either Mika takes down her target herself… or they freeze before they even find her.”

Gojo’s gaze landed on a single tree standing in the distance, with faint lights dangling from its branches. “Okay… that’s new,” he muttered, raising a brow.

A sudden shift in the air caught his attention. He turned sharply to the side and saw Mika standing a few steps away, her expression unreadable. “Oi, your Domain seems like it’s—” he began, stepping toward her, but before he could finish, her figure dissolved into a swirl of snow and mist.

He blinked, turning around, scanning the endless white. “A decoy? No…” His eyes narrowed. “An illusion.”

He pressed forward through the snow, his senses alert, until something glinted ahead. In an instant, he jumped back as a sharp spike of ice erupted from the ground, the crystalline surface reflecting the faint light from above. The edges were precise, deadly, and close enough to cut him in half if he had moved any slower.

Before he could recover, another Mika appeared right in front of him, sprinting straight toward his position. Gojo reacted on instinct, rolling to the side and grabbing the nearest thing—a rock half-buried in the snow. He hurled it at her, but as soon as Mika caught it, the rock froze solid and shattered against the ground. Her form flickered, then broke apart into mist once again.

Gojo straightened, dusting snow from his sleeves, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Illusions, freezing everything you touch, blades sharp enough to kill,” he murmured under his breath. “You’re full of surprises, Mika. You’re very talented.”

Gojo walked further into the clearing, his eyes fixed on the old tree that had been there since the day he arrived. The wind carried the faint sound of snow brushing against the branches. But what drew his gaze wasn’t the tree, but rather what was lying beneath it. A row of gravestones, half-buried under the snow.

He stopped, breathing visible in the cold air, and crouched before one of the stones. His fingers brushed away the thin layer of snow clinging to its surface.

Gojo Satoru

The name stared back at him, carved deep into the stone. His body freezes, the cold biting through his skin, while silence settles around him. The snow began to fall heavily, coating his shoulders, his hair, the edges of the grave.

“Wow,” A chuckle escaped his lips. “You planning to kill me already?” 

He sighs, “At least give me a proper funeral.” His voice grew quieter, his eyes drifting to the next gravestone, until his chest tightened.

Mackenzie Lia Montclair

The words seemed to echo in his head, drowning out the sound of the storm.  

He stared in confusion, blinking a few times. “She’s the user of the domain, but why—” His voice trailed off as he turned around, only to see Mika standing still in the middle of the snow. Her head was slightly tilted, and her face remained devoid of any reaction.

Satoru slowly stood, brushing the snow off his clothes before walking closer. His brows furrowed as he studied her from a short distance. “What the heck... Mika!” he called, waving a hand in front of her face. “Oi, Mika. You still need to get us out of here,” he said, then his eyes widened. 

Satoru stepped back, the snow crunching under his foot. “Suguru was right...”

Satoru sat on the empty chair beside Suguru. Both of them waited outside the infirmary while Shoko tended to Mika inside. The hallway was quiet except for the faint hum of the fluorescent light above them.

“Care to tell me what happened inside the domain Mika landed in?” Satoru asked,

Suguru stayed silent for a moment, his hands clasped together on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. “It was... cold,” he finally said.

“Uh-huh,” Satoru replied, glancing at him. “And?”

“I didn’t understand it at first,” Suguru continued, his voice low. “But when you’re in there, it feels as if the air itself wants to freeze you in place. Everything’s covered in snow, and the wind—” he paused, recalling the sight. “There were gravestones underneath the tree.” He exhaled slowly, his brows knitting together. “I don’t know why they were there. I didn’t get the chance to look closely. The curses were already coming after us.”

“Gravestones?” Satoru repeated, his eyes narrowing. “That’s unusual. Her domain must be something else.”

Suguru nodded faintly. “And when she moves... the storm reacts to her. It doesn’t happen right away, but moments after she takes a step, the snow starts to rise, the wind picks up, and everything turns white again.”

The two of them fell silent after that; the sound of the wind outside brushed faintly against the windows, almost echoing what Suguru had just described.

Suguru turns to him sternly, “I think–”

Satoru barely had time to process what was happening when Mika suddenly lunged toward him. He stepped back quickly, the impact of her strike slicing through the air where he had been standing a moment ago. His eyes locked onto hers–Those unfamiliar blue eyes, when it was supposed to be warm Hazelnut. 

“I see,” Satoru said under his breath, “You’re asleep when this domain activates. No wonder you don’t remember any of this.”

Mika swung again, and Satoru twisted his body to the side, his shirt brushing against the snow, avoiding her strike. His expression darkened, his body straightening up.  

Satoru caught her wrist firmly. “Nope. We’re not doing that.”

Mika jerked her arm free with surprising force and spun to the side, her leg sweeping upward in a clean strike aimed for his chest. Satoru stepped back in time, his feet pressing into the snow as his eyes narrowed. 

He clenched his fist and charged toward her, deflecting the shards of ice that erupted from the ground with every step. The air grew heavier, the chill biting against his skin.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone turning cold. He reached out, catching her once more, “Time to wake up from your nap.”

A wave of cursed energy burst from him, spreading through the domain in a deep, resonant pulse. The ground trembled beneath them. The storm howled, and the snow twisted upward in violent spirals. Cracks began to crawl through the frozen space until the entire domain splintered apart, vanishing in a single, blinding surge of light. The wind fell still, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

Mika fell to her knees, gasping for breath. The weight of the air around her shifted as she tried to steady her vision. Her eyes revealed the soft brown hue of the hazelnut trees swaying above them. Her hands pressed into the damp soil, and her fingers were trembling against the earth.

“…What happened?” she whispered,

“You,” Gojo said, standing in front of her with his arms crossed, “were sleeping on me.”

Her head lifted slightly, confusion written all over her face. “What?”

Gojo raised a brow. “The reason you can’t remember anything is because you were asleep inside your own domain,” he explained. “Suguru mentioned the same thing. You’re out cold in there, but your body keeps moving.” He sighed, brushing some snow off his shoulder. “And the worst part is how you’re pulling out techniques I’ve never even seen before. You almost punched my head off.”

Mika blinked, “I did that?”

“You have an interesting domain,” Gojo said, “Are you really not familiar with the gravestones, the snow, or that tree? Not even once in your life?”

Mika blinked slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. The faint traces of soil clung to her palms. She tried to focus, to remember what she had seen inside, but her mind stayed hazy, the memories slipping away before she could grasp them.

“Try, Mika,” Satoru said, stepping closer.  “Don’t force it. Just breathe. You won’t remember anything if you keep fighting it.”

Her fingers curled slightly against the ground as he continued. “For you to remember, you have to accept it first,” he said. “Whatever it is you’re avoiding, it’s holding everything back. I don’t know what you’re denying, but your mind’s playing defense. The more you reject it, the harder it’ll work to bury it.”

Mika lifted her head, her brows furrowing. “You make it sound like I’m arguing with myself.”

“Well,” Gojo said with a faint smirk, “if that self of yours can summon a blizzard and throw punches while sleeping, then yeah, you might want to settle that argument soon.”

“I don’t understand—” she began, but her voice faltered. Her eyes blinked once, twice, and until everything around her shifted.

In a heartbeat, she was standing in the snow, hearing nothing but the faint whisper of the wind. Her hands trembled as frost spread across her fingers, the cold biting deep into her skin.

Gravestone.

The word echoed in her mind as her gaze drifted forward. There was a single gravestone, half-buried beneath the weight of the snow, standing beneath a tall, withered tree.

Tree.

Her breath hitched. The branches reached over her, stripped bare, swaying under the thick snowfall. The air grew heavier, the sound of the wind turning into a howl.

Snowstorm.

The world around her blurred in white, the cold cutting through her chest.

“Mika,” Satoru’s voice called faintly, pulling through the haze.

Her eyes snapped open. The vision shattered. She was back under the hazelnut shade, her chest rising fast.

“I did… I did dream about it… Once or twice,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her eyes met his, feeling distant and terrified, “And I was running from it.”

Gojo tilted his head slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. “Your name was written on it, I presume?”

Mika froze, feeling every muscle in her body tense. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The words sat heavy in her throat, refusing to move.

“That wasn’t a dream, Mika,” Gojo said, “What you saw was your subconscious, your domain showing you what it’s built from. It’s been calling you for years, waiting for you to face it.”

Mika lowered her gaze, her hands curling into fists against her knees. Her throat tightened, I suppose… 

Gojo leaned back a little, studying her expression before letting out a small hum. “You know what’s funny?” he said, breaking the tension with a half-grin. “When I was inside your domain, I saw my own gravestone too.”

Her head shot up, startled. “What?!”

“Yeah,” he said with an easy shrug, “For a second, I thought it was a warning. Then I realized my name just looks good on the stone.”

Mika stared at him, glaring.  “That’s not something to brag about.”

Gojo chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “I’ve already come up with an analysis from what I saw in there,” he said, his tone far too casual for someone who had just survived a snowstorm of cursed energy.

“Tell me,” Mika said curiously, 

He nodded, “You already know you’re asleep when you’re inside your domain,” Gojo began, pacing a few steps ahead of her. “That much is clear. And then… Oh yeah, your eyes… They turned icy blue. At first, I thought you were trying to copy me.” He paused, turning with a grin that was far too pleased with itself. “Can’t blame you, though. My eyes are obviously prettier.”

Mika’s glare shot up immediately. “Fuck you, Satoru.”

He only laughed harder, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Hey, I’m just stating facts! You can’t get mad at the truth.”

Mika raises a brow at him, her face disgusted. “I hope you stumble when you walk.”

He grinned, unfazed. “I never stumble. The ground moves out of respect.”

Mika rolled her eyes and swung a light punch to his arm. “I called you here to help me understand my domain, not to annoy me, idiot.”

Gojo clutched his arm dramatically. “Ah! Can’t you see I’m trying?”

“Try harder!” she shot back,

“Alright, you annoying brat,” he muttered, rubbing his arm before straightening up. “Let’s see… what else?” He paused, tapping his chin in thought. “Oh, yeah. The part where you used three techniques in a row. First an illusion, then sharp blades, and finally freezing everything you touched.”

Mika frowned, crossing her arms. “How do you even know that?”

“I threw a rock at you, and you caught it,” Satoru said casually. “You turned it into ice.”

She scowled, “Why the fuck would you throw a rock at me? Are you insane?”

He pointed at her accusingly. “You were attacking me! I told you, you tried to punch me first, remember?”

Mika tilted her head, pretending to think. “Then I’m glad my automotive body did.”

Gojo blinked, then scowled. “You brat—”

She grinned, clearly satisfied with herself. “What? You said it yourself. I was asleep. Not my fault if dream-me has better aim than you.”

Gojo groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Remind me never to help you again.”

“So, what’s your conclusion then?” Mika asked, crossing her arms as she waited.

Gojo stared at her, his mouth falling open. “Conclusion? I already gave you my analysis! Why do I need to form a conclusion, too? This isn’t a thesis defense!”

Mika’s glare sharpened. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Of course I am, you’re my role model!” he shot back, sticking his tongue out. 

Her foot instinctively shot out, kicking his leg. Satoru groaned, stumbling a bit before catching himself. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For existing,” she said flatly, brushing her hair out of her face.

Gojo rubbed his shin, still frowning. “You know, for someone who needs my help, you have terrible manners.”

Mika only shrugged, rolling her eyes, already running out of patience. Gojo narrowed his eyes at her, then a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Mean to everyone… Except to Suguru, right?” he said, teasingly.

Mika froze, her head turning toward him in slow disbelief. Her fist lifted before she even realized it. “You—why are you always dragging Suguru into this?”

Gojo feigned innocence, resting a hand over his chest. “I don’t know. Maybe my best friend gets special treatment from you?”

“Special treatment?” she repeated, her tone sharp as she jabbed a finger at him. “In case you don’t know, I punch him too from time to time.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “You hit him? My poor Suguru!”

“Don’t make it sound like I assaulted him,” Mika muttered, crossing her arms.

“Oh, I’m sure he forgave you immediately,” Gojo said with a smirk. “He always does when it’s you.”

“So, about my domain?” Mika asked, folding her arms as they started walking. “We’re already getting way off topic.”

Gojo stretched his arms over his head, stifling a yawn. “So far, that’s all I’ve got. Maybe next time we’ll try again. I’ll let you activate your domain, and I’ll inspect it more closely.”

Mika nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Alrighty,” she said, her voice light but tired.

They passed through the gates, their footsteps echoing against the pavement. They walked back toward the main building of the institute.  For a moment, an easy quiet settled between them.

Mika sighs, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “You’ll still teach me, right?”

“I’ll teach you, I promise,” Gojo said, rubbing at his eyes with another lazy yawn. “But first, can I please take a nap? I just got here, and I’m running on two brain cells. There’s one asleep, and the other’s on strike.”

“Oh—right! Sorry, I forgot you just arrived,” Mika said, letting out a small laugh.

He waved a hand dismissively. “No big deal. We’ll start next week. But you know who’s actually more patient with teaching than me?”

Her eyes narrowed immediately. “Don’t you dare say it.”

Gojo’s grin spread slowly, his tone singsong.  “Suguruuuu~”

“Satoru!” she hissed, smacking his arm.

“OW—hey! I’m being serious!” he said through laughter, rubbing the spot she hit. “He’s the most qualified for this kind of thing. And come on, you two are already close. He could probably figure out your domain faster than I could.”

Mika groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “So you offered to help me just to dump me on your best friend?”

Gojo burst out laughing, bending slightly as he held his stomach. “I swear I didn’t mean to! Blame the jet lag! And the lack of sleep! My brain’s not functioning properly right now!”

“You absolute clown,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Okay, okay, fine!” he said, straightening up and raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll teach you, alright? Promise. But if I ever get caught up saving the world or stuck in Tokyo traffic, Suguru can step in. Deal?”

Mika frowned slightly. “He already has too much to deal with. Why would I add myself to his list of problems?”

Gojo snorted, the grin returning instantly. “Oh, please. Says the same girl who literally shared a bed with him over the holidays.”

Her head snapped toward him. “Satoru.”

“I’m shutting up. I’m shutting up!” he said quickly, backing away with both hands raised.

“Good,” she glares,

The silence didn’t last long, when he decided to turn to her and ask, his voice laced with trouble. “…But seriously, you really didn’t—?”

“SATORU.”

He laughed under his breath, satisfied that he’d gotten the last word. Mika groans, shaking her head, feeling the heat crawling to her face.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

It was getting dark. Mika sat at her desk, staring down at the piece of paper in front of her. The note written on it still didn’t make sense. It was a mystery why her name appeared on the gravestone when she was supposed to be the host of the domain

Her eyes fell on the words again:

“Learn to control your power, before it controls you.”

“My domain is going to kill me?” she muttered, frowning at the paper.

She glanced at her fingers, which began to glow faintly in a shade of blue, wispy in cold and soft winter fog. It was the same power she still couldn’t fully understand. Her mind drifted back to that mission with Suguru. Two special-grade curses. A narrow victory. No artifacts recovered. Too many creatures to count. Her cursed energy had been completely drained that day.

With a sigh, she crumpled the paper and tossed it into the trash bin. Then she pulled out her notebook, uncapped her pen, and started writing in her journal everything she had learned. Her grip on the pen tightened while writing everything she truly felt.

As she continued writing, her heartbeat stayed steady. Her brows furrowed as she gripped the pen tighter. The scratching sound of the pen against paper grew rough until it suddenly stopped. She frowned, realizing no ink was coming out.

“What the–” Pulling the pen back, she gasped when she saw frost covering it.

“Oh my gosh,” she muttered, sighing and pressing her hands against her face. She opened her drawer and placed the frozen pen beside another one she had accidentally frozen months ago. It hadn’t melted since. She took her pen pouch to get another pen, only to realize she didn’t have any more black. She gripped the pouch, her eye twitching.

“What am I going to use now?” she groans,

She went to her cabinet and took out a hoodie and a pair of pants. She put them on over her white tank top, then tied her hair into a neat bun, a few strands still falling along the sides of her face. Moving to her bed, she grabbed her bag before pausing to check herself in the mirror. For the first time in a while, she didn’t look pale anymore.

She leaned closer, blinking at her reflection when she noticed the faint rosy color on her cheeks. Was it always there? Or have I just been too preoccupied to notice?

A small smile appeared on her lips. She picked up her phone and took a quick picture of herself in the mirror shot. Seeing the result made her blush—she actually looked glowing.

“Alright, I’m having too much fun. I still need a pen,” she said, dropping her smile as she headed toward the door.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

She walked through the quiet city streets, neon lights reflecting off the puddles left from last night’s rain. The faint buzz of electricity and the hum of distant traffic faded. She stepped into a small stationery store. Warm air greeted her, carrying the scent of paper and ink.

Mika moved down the aisles, scanning the shelves for the stationery section. She stopped in front of the supplies, picking out two spring notebooks, five ballpens—three black, two red—and a full set of tech pens in bright colors.

She moved toward the bookshelf, her eyes scanning through the rows of classic novels. She picked one up, reading the summary on the back, then another, letting her focus drift through the words. The silence of the store settled around her until something shifted. A faint awareness crept down her spine, an instinct that someone was standing behind her.

She turned her head slowly and saw a man walk past her. He was tall, lean, and muscular, wearing a black shirt and gray pants. His jet-black hair was down, and its ends brushed against his neck. Mika’s grip on her stationery tightened, swallowing hard. She felt uneasy under the silence that followed.

The man turned his head toward her sharply, “What do you want, kid?”

Mika froze, quickly shaking her head before turning back to the bookshelf. She pretended to look through the books, forcing her hands to stay still.

“Sorcerers usually blend in better with civilians,” he said calmly, his eyes fixed on her as if he already knew who she was.

Mika’s gaze stayed on the shelves, but her eyes widened slightly. Her heartbeat quickened, pounding harder with every second. She ignored the man’s stare and moved to the next aisle, forcing herself to stay composed.

There was no trace of cursed energy coming from him—not even the faintest hint, if he’s even a sorcerer. Yet, he knew. The thought sent a chill down her spine, which made her realize how vulnerable she was. 

“Next in line, please,” the cashier called.

Mika flinched and turned sharply toward the counter, breaking from her thoughts. She hurried forward, clutching her notebooks and pens tightly against her chest. Her hands trembled as she placed everything down, her pulse racing and refusing to slow. She didn’t dare turn around, but she could still feel the weight of a stare pressing against her back.

When she finally gathered the courage to glance over her shoulder, the man was gone. She frowned slightly, her eyes scanning the store before she shook her head.

I must be paranoid.

“That’ll be 1,500 yen, miss,” the cashier said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Mika fumbled with her wallet, her hands trembling coldly. She muttered a quiet “thank you” when the cashier handed her the bag, barely waiting to take her change before stepping out of the store.

Outside, the streets buzzed with life. Neon signs flickered above rows of shops, and the sound of car horns echoed through the crowd. People moved past her in steady waves, yet none of it eased the tension in her chest. Her steps quickened, her breathing turned shallow and uneven.

No matter how much she tried to disappear into the crowd, she could still feel it.

The man’s cold stare. His heavy presence. A weight that followed her with every step.

Shit, shit, shit…

Her lips trembled, her heart pounding fast in her chest. The anxiety was taking over her. Her prayers went unanswered. She risked a glance over her shoulder. The sound of heavy footsteps followed close behind her. It was matching her steps, getting closer each second. 

She clutched the paper bag tightly against her chest. Her eyes shut for a moment, quickening her steps, feeling terrified. Panic surged through her when she suddenly collided with someone, forcing her to stumble back.

“Shit—” she breathed out, her voice shaking.

“Whoa, hey—hey, it’s okay! It’s just me!” a familiar voice said, hands reaching out to steady her.

Her eyes lifted, and relief washed over her when she saw Geto Suguru standing in front of her. His brows were drawn together, concern clear on his face. It was only then that she realized she was no longer in the city—she was back at the Jujutsu Institute, right outside the gates.

“Are you okay, Mika?” he asked softly.

She stared at him, unable to speak for a few seconds. Her lips quivered, and her vision blurred. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to him, clutching the front of his shirt, and tears fell against his chest.

Geto froze for a moment, then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. His hand rested on the back of her head, holding her steady against him.

“Are you scared?” he asked quietly.

Mika nodded, her breath hitching. Geto tightened his hold, keeping her close until her shaking began to ease.

When the Ice felt the embrace of the gentle curse-bearer, time stood still long enough to see her walls melt away.

✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After New Year’s, the morning light still carried a faint chill when Mika wandered through the garden of Geto’s home. The air was fresh, filled with the faint scent of dew and soil. Geto had woken up earlier to help his father with some mechanical work, or at least that’s what his short note on the bedside table said.

She moved aimlessly, letting her feet decide where to go, her phone in hand as she snapped pictures of the blooming flowers. The soft hum of morning insects filled the air, and everything felt still until her heel caught something that shifted beneath her.

She gasped and stumbled backward, landing on the grass with a soft thud.

“Ah—what was that?” she muttered, brushing her palms against the ground. Her eyes widened when she saw a small puppy staring right back at her. It had snow-white fur and bright blue eyes, its tiny tongue sticking out as it tilted its head at her in curiosity.

“Uh—I’m sorry. Please don’t bite me,” she said cautiously, lifting her hands a little in surrender.

Before she could move, two more puppies came running from behind a bush, yipping and tumbling over each other until they stopped beside the first one. One had brown and white fur with round, warm brown eyes, and the other was red and white with striking green eyes.

Mika froze for a moment, clutching her phone like it was a weapon. “You’re all adorable, but you’re... also slightly terrifying?” she said, half-nervous, half-amused.

The red and white puppy trotted forward, wagging its tail enthusiastically. The others followed suit, tails wagging so fast they could’ve been tiny propellers. Mika’s initial tension melted away as she watched them bounce around her legs, their barks turning into soft, playful sounds.

“Okay, okay,” she said, laughing under her breath. “I was kidding. You’re not scary at all.”

She reached out carefully, her fingers brushing through their fur. They're soft, warm, and still faintly scented with the aroma of milk. The puppies nuzzled closer, one trying to climb onto her lap while another started nibbling on the hem of her sweater.

“Hey—no! That’s expensive!” she said, trying to pull her sleeve away, but her tone was more amused than scolding.

One of them barked at her in response. The sound made her laugh even harder. She ended up sitting there for a while, surrounded by the tiny balls of energy. She opens the camera on her phone, taking a picture of the puppies playing around her. 

“So cute,” she chuckles, smiling. 

“I see you’ve met my children,” Geto said as he walked over. He was dressed in a white sleeveless top and black shorts, his hair tied back in a loose ponytail for the first time. He looked surprisingly relaxed, holding a bottle of water in one hand and his usual smile on his face.

Mika looked up from her phone, still sitting cross-legged on the grass with three small puppies sprawled across her lap. “I stumbled on the white one and fell on my butt,” she said, brushing off some grass from her shorts. “It just stared at me all innocent, and I immediately felt like a criminal.” She laughed under her breath, shaking her head at the memory.

Geto chuckled and lowered himself to sit beside her, his gaze following the small white puppy that wagged its tail proudly. “That one’s the troublemaker,” he said, pointing at it. “Her name’s Winter. She’s famous for sneaking up on people and scaring them. She did it to my mom once her scream echoed through the entire house.”

“That’s exactly what she did to me earlier,” Mika replied, blinking at the white puppy that was now pretending to be innocent.

Geto crouched down and lifted the red-and-white puppy into his arms. “This one’s Autumn. She’s got the color of fallen leaves and trips over her own paws half the time.”

“Hi, Autumn,” Mika greeted softly, brushing her fingers through the puppy’s fur. Autumn responded by licking her thumb before tumbling back into Geto’s lap.

He placed her down carefully, then picked up the third puppy, whose fur was a mix of white and warm brown. “And this is Summer,” he continued. “She’s the fastest one. You’ll lose sight of her the moment you blink.”

Mika smiled. “You really named them after the seasons.”

Geto rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t the original plan. I was going to call them Milk, Choco, and Red Velvet.”

Mika let out a snort, “That sounds like a dessert menu.”

“You don’t understand. I was hungry when I first named them,” he says dryly. “I don’t think when I’m hungry.”

Mika rolled her eyes when she felt tiny paws scrambling behind her. “Wait—Summer—”

Before she could turn around, Geto sighed and reached over to grab the wriggling puppy from behind her back. He lifted Summer by the belly, her tail still wagging wildly in the air, and set her down in front of them.

“I told you,” he muttered, shaking his head. “She’s stubbornly energetic.”

No sooner had he said that, Summer started tugging at the hem of his shorts, growling softly and wagging her tail as if challenging him.

“No, you don’t, you little rascal,” Geto said, laughing as he tried to pry her off. “Why can’t you both behave like Winter? She’s calm, quiet, and actually sits still for five seconds.”

“I thought you said she’s the troublemaker?” Mika teased, glancing down at Winter, who was curled up contentedly on her lap.

Geto gave her a pointed look. “She is the troublemaker. But she has perfect timing, like acting innocent when I need to prove my point.”

Mika smirked. “So basically, she’s your favorite.”

He scoffed. “That’s a serious accusation. I don’t play favorites.”

Winter let out a soft bark in protest, as if to expose his lie. Mika chuckles, “Wow,” she said, grinning. “Even your dog disagrees.”

“Traitor,” Geto muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at Winter. The puppy tilted her head, pretending she didn’t hear him, then pawed gently at his knee.

Autumn, not wanting to be ignored, barked again and lunged at his shoelaces. Geto let out another sigh. “See what I mean? One’s chewing my shorts, the other’s trying to steal my shoes, and the last one’s busy ruining my reputation.”

Mika couldn’t stop laughing, clutching her stomach as Winter hopped off her lap to chase Autumn in circles. Summer joined in seconds later, turning the peaceful garden into a whirlwind of paws and fur.

“Might be tough being a dad at nineteen, huh?” Mika said, chuckling as she watched the three puppies running around them in pure chaos.

Geto exhaled, running a hand through his hair before letting out a laugh. “That’s very true,” he admitted. “Now I finally understand what my dad felt when he used to chase me around the yard for climbing the fence at three years old. He nearly lost his mind.”

Mika laughed, the sound blending with the barking of the puppies. “So it runs in the family then, the reckless behavior.”

“Apparently,” Geto said with a helpless grin, watching Summer attempt to climb onto his shoe. “Except now the universe decided I should suffer the same fate.”

“Looks like karma’s got a sense of humor,” Mika teased, 

“Yeah, and it came in a furry package,” he muttered, carefully picking up Autumn before she could chew on the edge of his top. The puppy squirmed in his hands, tail wagging uncontrollably. “See this? Zero respect for authority.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Mika said in a mock-serious tone. “They’ll grow up well if you keep them away from fences.”

Geto gave her a flat look that only made her laugh harder. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“I know I am,” she said, smiling triumphantly.

He set Autumn down and leaned back against the bench. “You’re lucky they like you. Usually, they only behave when they want treats.”

“They just have good taste in people,” Mika replied, scratching Winter’s head as the puppy dozed off on her lap.

Geto watched her for a moment, the corners of his lips softening. “Guess they do,” he said quietly.

Summer barked suddenly, breaking the short pause, and the other two puppies stirred awake again, starting another round of playful chaos.

Geto groaned and stood up, stretching his arms. “Round two begins,” he muttered.

Mika laughed so hard she nearly fell to the side. “Good luck, young father.”

He shot her a teasing glare while chasing after Summer, who had already bolted toward the flower bed. “I didn’t sign up for this job!”

“You named them!” Mika called after him, still laughing as the garden echoed with barks, laughter, and Geto’s resigned sighs.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

“Bye-bye, babies. Mommy has to go now,” Mika said, crouching down to pat the puppies one last time. They wagged their tails and barked softly, crowding around her feet.

“Self-proclaimed mommy now?” Geto teased, closing the trunk after loading their suitcases.

“They need a mommy,” Mika replied without looking up, still scratching Winter’s head.

“And that’s you?” he asked, grinning as he leaned against the car door.

“No, you. That’s why I meant “me”, right?” she said, rolling her eyes at him before returning her attention to the puppies.

Geto let out a laugh. “Your logic hurts my brain sometimes.”

“It's not,” she said.

He chuckled again, shaking his head as she crouched back down, giving each puppy a gentle pat. Winter yawned, Autumn tried nibbling on her shoelaces, and Summer barked impatiently for attention.

“Mika, come visit again when you have time, alright?” Geto’s mother called out from the porch. “Even if my son isn’t here, you can still come by.”

She wrapped Mika in a warm hug, holding her close with a fond smile that left Mika a little flustered.

Geto blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, what? Am I being replaced?”

His father chuckled, giving his son a firm pat on the back before turning to Mika. “Don’t mind him. He’s used to being ignored when his mother finds someone new to dote on.”

Mika laughed softly, returning the older man’s polite hug. “Thank you, sir. I’ll visit again when I’m not drowning in schoolwork.”

“You better,” his mother said, pouting a little. “The house feels brighter when you’re here.”

The puppies barked loudly, their small bodies wriggling in protest. Winter and Summer stood on their hind legs, paws pressing against Mika’s knees, while Autumn had decided to take matters into her own teeth literally by tugging at the strap of Mika’s bag, dragging it halfway out of the car.

“See? Even the little ones don’t want you to leave,” Geto’s mother said, laughing from the porch.

“Oi, Autumn, that’s not a toy,” Geto groaned, stepping forward to rescue the bag. He lifted the mischievous puppy into his arms, prying her tiny teeth off the strap before placing the bag deeper inside the car. Autumn squirmed, tail wagging proudly.

Before Geto could close the door, Summer barked and jumped straight into the car, landing on the passenger seat with her tongue out and tail wagging nonstop.

Geto sighed, staring at her in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Mika laughed, “I think she wants to come with us.”

Geto leaned down, trying to coax the puppy out. “Alright, princess, trip’s over. Out you go.”

Summer ignored him, settling comfortably on the seat and wagging harder, her big eyes staring straight at him.

“Summer, don’t make me scold you again,” Geto said, picking up the energetic puppy and setting her gently on the ground beside Winter. Both sat obediently in front of his father, tails twitching.

“Pa, you got it covered from here,” Geto called out, dusting his hands off.

His father chuckled, resting his hands on his knees. “I’m trying my best here.”

“You’re not even doing anything,” Geto’s mother said, arms crossed as she gave her husband a glare.

“That’s the best kind of parenting,” his father replied, earning a light smack on the arm.

Geto sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile before stepping forward to hug both of them. “We’ll get going. Don’t let the puppies form a rebellion while I’m gone.”

His mother laughed. “Drive safe, and bring her back soon,” she said, giving Mika a wink that made her blush slightly.

Geto walked around to open the passenger door for Mika before getting into the driver’s seat himself. The car started with a soft hum, and he pulled forward slowly, waving once more to his parents and the three puppies watching them by the gate.

Just as they were about to leave the driveway, a sudden high-pitched bark echoed from behind them. Geto’s eyes widened. He hit the brakes so quickly that Mika almost jolted forward in her seat.

“What was that?” she asked, spinning around, only to burst out laughing the next second. “Oh my god, Suguru, look!”

In the middle of the back seat sat Autumn. Tongue out, tail wagging, completely unbothered.

“Autumn!” Geto groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Mika let out a laugh, "How did she get there? HAHAHAHA!" Mika reaches to pat Autumn, noticing also a small bunny plushie beside Autumn. "She carried her toy too! HAHAHA”

Geto unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around. “You little rascal,” he muttered, reaching to pick her up.

“She's so cute!” Says Mika, while taking a picture of the puppy. 

“Alright, enough being stubborn,” Geto said, holding Autumn up at eye level. The puppy only wagged her tail in response. He sighed, shaking his head before crouching down and setting her gently back on the grass beside her sisters.

“There. Happy now?” he muttered. Autumn barked once, her tongue sticking out mockingly.

Winter sat neatly beside her, while Summer rolled over on her back, showing her belly, celebrating her sister’s failed escape attempt. Geto’s father chuckled, arms crossed, while his mother covered her smile with her hand.

“Your children are very disciplined,” his father teased.

“Don’t remind me,” Geto replied, brushing the dirt from his palms.

He returned to the driver's seat and restarted the engine, driving carefully. Mika opens the window to breathe in the fresh air. 

Mika laughed, remembering his dog's reckless behavior, “You really have no control over them, huh?”

“I do,” Geto said, straightening up and starting to drive. “They’re just emotionally manipulative.”

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

When they finally arrived at Jujutsu Tech, the sky had already softened into a muted shade of dusk. Geto stepped out of the car first, stretching his arms before quietly walking around to help Mika with her suitcase. She looked a little worn from the trip, but her faint smile carried the calm of someone who’d had a good day. Together, they made their way through the quiet dorm corridor until they stopped in front of her room.

Mika unlocked her door, pushing it open before turning to him. “You can come in if you want,” she offered softly, her hand still resting on the door handle.

Geto shook his head with a polite smile. “I’ll pass. I might fall asleep on your floor at this point,” he admitted, his voice carrying a tired chuckle.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Alright, take care then.”

“You too. Rest well,” he replied, already stepping back toward the hallway.

Before he could turn away, she called his name again. “Suguru.”

He looked over his shoulder, brows raised slightly.

“Thank you again,” she said gently, “I really appreciated it.”

For a moment, he blinked, the exhaustion in his eyes easing into warmth. Then his lips curved into a small smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mika.”

“Me too,” she said, her smile widening. “I didn’t expect it would turn out that fun.”

He gave a light laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “We could go back there next time if you want.”

Her eyes widened slightly in disbelief. “We just got back, and you’re already planning another trip? We haven’t even unpacked yet!”

“Why not? It’s better to plan early,” he said, still grinning.

“I thought you said plans don’t work?” she teased, laughing.

“If it’s a battlefield, yeah, they don’t,” he replied, shrugging casually.

“Excuses, excuses,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just admit you’d rather goof around than exorcise curses.”

“That’s true,” he shot back without hesitation.

Mika laughed, then reached forward to poke his chest. “Now go rest, Grandpa. You drove for hours. I swear I saw your soul leave your body somewhere around the third toll gate.”

He let out a tired laugh, brushing her hand away. “Hey, I was trying to impress you with my highway merging skills.”

“You almost hit a cone,” she pointed out, smirking.

“The cone came at me first,” he replied, straight-faced.

She snorted, shaking her head. “Sure it did.”

Geto rolled his eyes playfully and stuck his tongue out, his tiredness fading into a boyish grin.

Mika couldn’t help but laugh, mimicking him with the same childish gesture. “Now I know exactly where those three puppies inherited their brattiness,” she said, crossing her arms with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, and clearly, you’re a terrible influence on my children,” he shot back, laughing under his breath.

Mika gave his shoulder a light punch, shaking her head. “I meant you, idiot.”

“Bleh,” Geto replied, sticking his tongue out again before darting away with a grin.

“Get back here, Suguru!” she laughed, raising her hand as if ready to throw another playful punch.

He was already halfway down the corridor, laughing as he waved his hand in the air without turning around.

“SLEEP WELL AND DON’T LET THE BED BUGS BITE!” Mika yelled, her voice bouncing down the quiet dorm hallway.

“Later, Spring!” he called back, still walking away, his tone half sincere and half teasing.

Mika blinked, then frowned, realizing what he’d said. Her glare fixed on his retreating. “Hey! Don’t call me that! I’m not a dog, you brat!”

Her complaint only made him laugh louder, his shoulders shaking as he disappeared around the corner.

Mika stood there for a few seconds, still scowling, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile. She sighed, closing her door with a quiet click before resting her forehead against it for a moment. The laughter that had filled the hall, still lingering in her ears, was soft and warm.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After several hours of deep sleep, Mika stirred awake, her body stretching lazily across the sheets. The soft rustle of the blanket filled the stillness of her dorm. Her arms extended above her head as she yawned, the afternoon light spilling through the blinds and painting faint stripes across her room. Reaching for her phone on the bedside table, she squinted at the screen—3:02 p.m.

Her shoulders slumped. She sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing her comfortable shorts and thin shirt, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. For a while, she just stared at the floor, feeling the weight of quiet pressing around her. Her gaze shifted to the table by the window.

A neatly folded letter sat there. It wasn’t part of the pile she had long ignored. The stack of unopened envelopes that had gathered dust in one corner of her drawer. This one was new, clean, and recently delivered.

Her stomach twisted.

Slowly, she stood and crossed the short distance to the desk. The chair let out a faint scrape as she sat down, her hand hesitating above the letter before finally reaching for it. She unfolded the paper with deliberate slowness, the familiar, rigid handwriting staring back at her. It was sharp, formal, and painfully familiar.

“Your progress with the technique is commendable. The clan is watching.”

Her eyes narrowed, the words burning into her head. A bitter exhale escaped her lips. “Commendable?” she muttered, “You meant I’m just another weapon you’re eager to use.”

Her hand crumpled the letter without hesitation. The paper crackled against her palm before she tossed it into the trash beside her desk. It landed with a soft thud, joining the others she had thrown away before.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, her jaw locked tight. Her fingers drummed against the armrest—once, twice, then stilled. No matter how many praises they sent her, no matter how often they called her “gifted” or “the pride of the bloodline,” the words always carried the same poison.

They were never for her. They were meant for what she could do.

They spoke of her progress, but never her pain. Of her power, but never her peace. Every letter was another reminder that she was being watched, not to care for her, not to guide her, but to monitor her progress.

Her chest tightened. She rubbed her temples, trying to steady her breath, but the feeling crawled up her throat anyway, the anger, disgust, exhaustion all tangled together. The silence in her room grew heavier, it was almost suffocating.

She turned toward the window, the sunlight still up. It reflects through the fabric of her curtains.

Under her breath, she whispered, “You’ll never get what you want from me.”

Her voice carried no tremor. A faint pulse of cursed energy humming through her veins, faint frost blooming at the edge of her desk where her hand rested. Her gaze fell on the trash can once more. The crumpled letter had started to frost over.

Her thoughts drifted back to her curse technique. She had managed to drop a domain, it’s nowhere near mastery, yes, but still a remarkable step. That alone wasn’t something to take lightly. Geto had told her that countless times. Her eyes shifted down to her hands, watching the faint trace of frost melt away and disappear against her skin.

She blinked slowly, her shoulders easing. Every time she thought of Geto Suguru, her pulse steadied, and the pull of her cursed energy softened, falling back under her control.

Her cheeks began to warm. She groaned quietly, covering her face with both hands before kicking her feet against the bed in frustration. If he were here right now, he’d be grinning from ear to ear, teasing her until she begged him to stop.

“Suguru… seriously?” she muttered into her palms before sitting up abruptly. “No. No way. I’m not—” she stood, shaking her head in denial, her bare toes brushing against the cold floor. “I’m not! He’s my friend. Just my friend. I’m not into him—”

Her words cut off in a startled gasp as her foot landed on something. She stumbled, losing her balance, and fell to the ground.

“Ow,” she grumbled, her face buried in the pile of clothes that had spilled from the laundry basket onto the floor. She stayed there for a moment, groaning into the fabric before letting out a long sigh.

Pushing herself up, she gathered the mess half-heartedly, mumbling under her breath before giving up altogether. Her shoulders slumped as she dragged herself toward the bathroom, every step heavy from the dull ache in her body.

“Fuck, my whole body hurts,” she muttered, twisting the shower knob and stepping under the stream of water, the sound of the shower drowning out her complaints.

After showering, she changed into another set of comfortable clothes, she wore a sleeveless purple top and a pair of shorts. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders as she sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone. There were still no messages from Suguru.

“He’s probably still sleeping,” she said to herself, stretching before deciding to make some coffee.

While waiting for the water to boil, she leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone. She searched for the book she had been waiting months to find and almost dropped her phone when she saw it was finally available. Without a second thought, she checked it out and proceeded to payment. For once, the incentive she received from the higher-ups came in handy. At least they were good for something after sending her on one mission after another.

Once her coffee was ready, she carried the mug to her bedroom balcony. It’s a small spot Shoko had once mentioned would be perfect for relaxing. She had set it up herself, placing a bean bag sofa by the railing and decorating the space with fairy lights and strands of fake green vines. From inside her room, the purple curtain covering the glass doors gave the area a soft, calming glow.

She set her coffee on the small table and sank into the bean bag, her gaze drifting toward the city lights below. The distant hum of traffic mixed with the faint sound of the wind. Her thoughts, however, refused to stay quiet. They kept returning to her technique.

No matter how she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head. She tried to recall the moment, what she did, what she felt… But the harder she focused, the more her memory blurred. Her brows knitted together as she stared at the ground.

I don’t remember anything… she thought, the unease tightening her chest. Was it really that bad?

She couldn’t bring herself to ask Geto what really happened inside her domain. The memory of it was still hazy, as if a fog had settled over everything that occurred. All she knew for certain was that she survived because he pulled her out. Beyond that, everything was blank and empty.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. She reached for her phone on the small table beside her and unlocked the screen. For a moment, her thumb hovered over Geto’s name before she scrolled past it and opened another contact. If there was anyone who could give her answers, someone who always knew more than he let on—it was him.

She pressed his name, and the phone rang twice before someone picked up. A few seconds passed before the call connected.

“Hello?”

“Satoru,” she said faintly,. “I need your help. When are you coming back home?”

When she accepts what the Ice truly is, its power will obey her call.

✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The morning light slipped through the thin curtains, stretching across the room until it landed on Geto’s bare skin. Its warmth was soft but insistent, coaxing him out of the drowsy haze clinging to his body. He let out a low groan, bringing one hand up to rub at his tired eyes. For a moment, he couldn’t place the odd weight pressed against his side, his sluggish mind too slow to catch up.

Before he could think further, a gentle knock echoed from the door.

“Suguru? It’s Mama. Are you awake now?”

His eyes flew open in an instant, the last traces of sleep dissolving as his chest tightened. Panic jolted through him, and he quickly turned to his side, only to freeze.

On his side was Mika, tucked beneath the sheets. Her face rested dangerously close to his, her steady breathing brushing against his skin. Their noses nearly touched, Geto swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears. He shifted back an inch, careful not to jostle the mattress too much.

“Suguru?” His mother’s voice called again, 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. Sitting up, he dragged a hand through his messy hair, trying to pull himself together. His eyes darted toward the door, then back to the sleeping girl beside him.

“Mika…” He whispered, leaning slightly over her, hesitant to shake her awake. His hand hovered above her shoulder before he pulled back quickly, biting the inside of his cheek. Waking her wasn’t the problem—explaining this to his mother was.

He glanced at the door again, his nerves tightening with every second of silence that followed. His mother hadn’t opened it yet, but he knew she could at any moment.

Geto muttered to himself, barely audible. “This is bad… really bad…”

When his eyes returned to Mika, still curled under the covers, he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She look so peaceful and untouched by the chaos in his head.

“Of all mornings…” he sighed softly, lowering his face into his hands, trying to think fast before his mother’s patience ran out.

“Suguru, open the door please,” His mother says, knocking gently. 

“Mika…” Geto whispered, leaning down as he gave her shoulder the lightest nudge.

When she didn’t stir, he nudged her again, a little firmer and a sense of urgency leaking into his tone. “Mika, please. You really, really, really need to wake up right now.”

A muffled groan slipped out of her, turning her head that's half-burying her face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

“Five minutes is the end for us,” he declared in a hushed, dramatic voice.

she yawned sleepily, “It’s too early for your dramatic jokes.”

“My mom’s outside.”

Mika’s eyes snapped open instantly. “WHAT—”

“Shhh!” Geto hissed, whispering but almost yelling, his hand flying up to cover her mouth before she could raise her voice any higher.

They both sat up at once, sheets falling messily around them, their hair sticking out in every direction. Wide-eyed and stiff with panic, they stared at each other in silence for a beat, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

“What do we do?!” Mika whispered harshly, clutching Mr. Grizzly against her chest as if the stuffed bear could shield her from the disaster waiting outside the door.

“I—I don’t know! Maybe just hide behind the couch?” Geto’s voice cracked with desperation.

“Too risky! She’ll see me the moment she steps in!” Mika shot back. “How about the closet?”

“That’s full of cursed tools!”

She froze, giving him a blank stare. Her voice was flat, muttering “Seriously?”

Geto winced, dragging a hand down his face. “Now's not the time to judge me" he turns to the floor beneath him, "How about under the bed?”

Mika glanced toward the low frame and then back at him. “That thing barely fits your shoes. Do you expect me to crawl under there and play dead?”

Another knock interrupted their whispered bickering, a little louder which raises suspicions.

“Suguru? It’s already 8am in the morning. Why are you still sleeping?” his mother called from outside once again, the irritation filled her voice.

Both of them stiffened, staring at one another. Geto pressed a finger to his lips and mouthed frantically, Don’t move. His mind raced, juggling ridiculous escape plans that all ended with disaster. Meanwhile, Mika was still hugging Mr. Grizzly, her heart beating fast.

“You’re dead if she comes in.” Mika whispered,

“Correction,” he muttered under his breath, “we’re dead.”

Another pause, then Mika leaned closer, eyes narrowed in mock annoyance despite the panic dancing in her gaze. “This is your fault.”

Geto’s jaw dropped. “My fault?! You’re the one who insisted on sleeping on my bed!”

“Ugh!” Mika scanned the room in panic, then dove back into the bed, yanking the blanket over her head. “I’m hiding here!”

“What are you doing, Mika?!” Geto hissed, throwing his arms up.

“HIDING!” she whisper-screamed back, clutching Mr. Grizzly tightly. “Go open the door!”

“No! She’ll see you!”

“No she won’t! Just stall her!”

Before Geto could argue, the doorknob rattled again. His heart lurched, eyes widening in horror. Without thinking, he dropped back onto the bed and pulled the covers over his head too.

“Suguru, what the hell—” Mika started.

“Shhh! Just stay still!” he whisper-yelled, his voice muffled beneath the blanket.

“This is the worst plan ever! We’re going to get caught!” she snapped back, keeping her voice low frantically,

“No we won’t! Just don’t breathe!”

“Don’t breathe?!” she hissed in disbelief

Before either of them could add more, the door creaked open.

“Suguru?” his mother’s voice filled the room. She stepped inside, blinking at the sight of the lumpy, trembling blanket on the bed.

The silence stretched painfully long. Both Mika and Geto froze under the covers, clutching the edges with white knuckles, praying the blanket would be enough to keep them hidden.

“AHHH!” his mother shrieked.

Mika flinched and yelped. Geto jolted in shock, heart leaping to his throat. In a frenzy, they both ripped the blanket down and shot upright, breathing hard, faces flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes wide and guilty.

His mother stood by the door, one hand clamped over her mouth, scandal plain on her face. “Suguru! What on earth are you doing?!”

“M-Mom, it’s not what it looks like!” Geto blurted out, hands flying in a desperate wave.

Mika hugged Mr. Grizzly tighter, her expression horrified. “We weren’t—! It’s not—! I was just sleeping!”

“Together?!” his mother barked, her voice sharp with disbelief.

The two of them exchanged a mortified glance, their cheeks burning so hot neither could form a proper defense.

“Mom, please,” Geto tried again, his voice cracking. “We didn’t do anything!”

His mother narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms as her foot tapped against the floor. “Then why were you both hiding under the same blanket?!”

Mika buried her face into the stuffed bear, muttering under her breath, while Geto dragged a hand down his face, already dreading the nightmare of trying to explain.

“W-we’re playing…” Geto blurted, his voice cracking.

Mika shot him a sharp look, her lips pressed into a thin line. Seriously?

“Really? And what game?” his mother asked, her arms crossing firmly over her chest.

“H-hide and seek,” Geto admitted shamefully,

“And who is the seeker?” she pressed further, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Geto froze, lips snapping shut. Slowly, he turned his head toward Mika in silent plea.

Mika blinked at him in disbelief, her brows rising higher with each second. She let out a sharp sigh through her nose before forcing out, “U-um… Y-you, ma’am.”

His mother blinked. “Me?”

“Y-yes,” Mika stammered, scrambling for words. “You’re the… uh… Silent Seeker! That’s right!”

Geto tilted his head at her, raising a brow with obvious judgment, his expression saying everything he refused to speak.

Mika glared back at him sharply, clutching Mr. Grizzly tighter. Quit giving me that look, weird bangs, she thought, her narrowed eyes practically daring him to challenge her excuse.

His mother watched the two of them bicker silently with their eyes, suspicion growing by the second. She tapped her foot against the wooden floor, her expression unimpressed. “Silent Seeker? Is that what children are calling it nowadays?”

“M-mom!” Geto barked, his face turning even redder. “It’s just a game! Don’t make it sound weird!”

Mika quickly nodded, piling onto the excuse. “Yes, yes! Just a harmless game! No funny business at all!”

His mother’s eyes flicked between the two of them, taking in Mika’s messy hair, Geto’s frantic expression, and the fact that both were still sitting in his bed. She pressed her lips together, clearly unconvinced.

“You expect me to believe this nonsense?” she asked, arching a brow.

“Yes!” Geto and Mika shouted in unison, both leaning forward with desperate energy.

The room fell quiet for a beat before his mother sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable… First thing in the morning, and this is what I walk into.”

Mika’s shoulders slumped, burying her face into the stuffed bear again. Geto, meanwhile, dropped back onto his pillow, groaning into his hands.

“Silent Seeker,” his mother muttered to herself on her way out. “What an excuse.” She shook her head but didn’t push further, closing the door behind her.

"That was close," Mika breathes in relief

“Close?!” Geto sat up again, glaring at her. “That was humiliating! Silent Seeker?! Really?!”

“Why are you glaring at me? You asked for help, and I just said the first thing that came to mind,” Mika muttered, still clutching Mr. Grizzly.

Geto groaned and dropped his face into the blanket, “That’s the worst excuse you could ever think of.”

Mika rolled her eyes, shifting to the side of the bed in irritation. “Oh, whatever—ah!”

She gasped as her balance slipped, her body tipping right off the edge. With a short shriek, she landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

Geto’s head shot up, his eyes widening in alarm. He crawled to the edge of the bed and leaned over. “You okay?"

Mika glared up at him, flat one her back, her hair scattered around her face. “Do I look okay to you?”

A beat of silence passed before Geto snorted. He tried to cover it with his hand, but it was no use. A full laugh escaped him, shaking his whole frame until he threw his head back. His long hair tumbled over his face, strands sticking to his cheeks as he laughed harder, the sound filling the room.

Mika sat up, her glare sharpening. “Haha, so funny to you?”

Before he could reply, she grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked hard.

“Wait—Mika!” Geto gasped as the sheets slid beneath him. His body toppled forward, landing with a dull thud beside her on the carpet. He groaned, one hand clutching his elbow. “You little—”

Mika chuckled, quick to snatch a pillow from the bed. She swung it without hesitation, smacking it straight against his face.

“Pft—Mika!” Geto spluttered, brushing stray hair from his eyes. He reached for the pillow, but she pulled it back, hitting him again with a satisfied grin.

“Tch.” Geto clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes with a crooked grin before reaching over and snatching Mr. Grizzly right out of Mika’s arms.

“Hey!” Mika gasped, scrambling on her hands and knees toward him.

Geto quickly stood, holding the stuffed bear up high, and stepped back onto the bed. He settled down cross-legged on the mattress, clutching Mr. Grizzly triumphantly to his chest.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After an hour, Mika and Geto went downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was already set, sunlight pouring faintly through the curtains while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. They sat beside each other at the long table, but neither dared to speak. The silence between them was sharp and heavy, filled with an awkwardness they were both too stubborn to break.

Mika kept her eyes trained on her plate, cutting her pancakes into pieces smaller than necessary, as though concentrating on them would distract her from the tension. Geto leaned back in his chair with an air of forced calm, plucking blueberries from the bowl and tossing them into his mouth without care.

Across from them, Geto’s father observed quietly. His sharp eyes flicked from his son to Mika, catching every fumble and every deliberate refusal to glance at one another. He sipped his coffee slowly, the silence dragging, before his brow rose.

“Did you two have sex?”

The question cut through the air without warning. Mika’s fork slipped from her hand as she choked on her pancake, coughing hard and reaching blindly for her glass of water. Geto nearly fell out of his chair, his hand slamming against the table as his eyes flew wide.

“Dad!” he snapped, voice breaking louder than intended.

Mika’s face burned as she coughed into her napkin, her shoulders grew stiff. “W-we did not!” she managed to croak out defensively.

Geto’s father only hummed, unimpressed, and leaned back in his chair, swirling his coffee. His eyes narrowed at the two of them, clearly unconvinced.

Geto dragged a hand down his face and muttered, “Unbelievable. You can’t just throw that question at breakfast.”

“What?” his father blinked with feigned innocence, setting his cup back on the saucer. “Your mother said something happened.”

“It’s not what she thinks!” Geto hissed, his voice strained, his face flushed red.

“Alright, alright.” His father lifted both hands in mock surrender, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “I’ll leave you two to it. This tension is killing my eggs.”

He pushed back his chair and stood, slinging the kitchen towel over his shoulder, but instead of walking away, he leaned down between the two, his voice dropping low enough for only them to hear.

“Still... Safe sex.”

“Dad, for pete’s sake!” Geto groaned, burying his face in his hands. His whole body slumped forward on the table, hiding his face.

Mika’s fork clattered to her plate. She sat frozen, her cheeks burning hotter than the coffee on the table. She didn’t even know where to look—at her plate, at the wall, or at the floor that suddenly felt too inviting to ignore.

Geto’s father straightened, clearly entertained, and strolled out of the dining room humming. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, leaving silence in his wake.

The silence thickened until it was too much to hold. Mika and Geto turned to each other at the same time, and both broke into soft laughter.

“I told you,” Mika said between chuckles, pressing her hand against her lips, “they think exactly the way my family does.”

Geto shook his head, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “Next thing we know, they’ll be asking if you’re eight months pregnant.”

Mika laughs louder, her shoulders shaking as she reaches for the piece of pancake she had abandoned earlier. She popped it into her mouth and chewed, finally enjoying it. “This one’s delicious and fluffy. I couldn’t appreciate it earlier with your dad staring at my every move.”

Geto let out a low chuckle and leaned back in his chair. “It wasn’t just you. His eyes were drilling into my soul.” He lifted his cup and took a slow sip of coffee, his smirk still lingering behind the rim.

Mika picked up her fork again, stabbing at another piece of pancake with exaggerated seriousness. “You could’ve warned me your dad’s interrogation style involves ruining breakfast.”

“That was not interrogation,” Geto muttered dryly, setting his cup down. “That was a full-blown attack.”

She snorted, almost choking on her food. “You’re the son. If anyone should be immune, it’s you.”

“Immune?” Geto scoffed. “He’s been at this since I was twelve. Nothing’s changed. You just got drafted into the war zone.”

Mika chuckles, “War zone? Really?"

“Yeah,” Geto said with a deadpan expression, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “And trust me, my mom’s worse. She won’t say ‘safe sex.’ She’ll hand you a fucking pamphlet.”

Mika nearly spit out her pancake, quickly reaching for her water as her laughter spilled louder across the table. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Geto replied with a grim nod. “And she’ll do it with a smile.”

“Now I feel sorry,” Mika said with a light laugh, resting her fork on the edge of her plate. “Your mom probably thinks I’m just your hook-up buddy now.”

Geto shake his head, setting the cup down with a sharp clink. “Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “That’s not true.”

Mika tilted her head, amused by how quickly his ears turned red. “You’re sure? Because after what your dad said, I wouldn’t be surprised if she already booked me for a family lecture.”

“She won’t,” Geto muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, then leaned an elbow on the table, smirking, “At least, not until she corners me alone.”

Mika giggled, finally taking another bite of pancake. “So, I’m safe for now. You’re the one in trouble.”

“Story of my life,” he muttered dryly. He stole another blueberry from the bowl and rolled it between his fingers before tossing it into his mouth.

Mika’s eyes narrowed at him, playful. “If she does corner you, don’t you dare drag me down with you.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely dragging you down with me,” Geto said, his smirk widening. “If I go down, you’re coming with me. No way I’m suffering alone.”

She let out a laugh that echoed across the dining room, “You’re horrible.”

“You agreed to stay here,” he shot back, leaning closer across the table. “This is part of the package. Free breakfast, relentless humiliation, and unsolicited sex talks.”

Mika groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “You make it sound like I signed a contract.”

“You did,” he said, feigning seriousness. “Verbally. Last night. No backing out now.”

“Do you want me to show you around after breakfast?” Geto asked casually, placing his empty cup on the sink. "I could take you through the rest of town.”

“Oh, sure,” Mika replied, nodding as she set her fork down neatly. “I’ll just shower first.”

“Perfect,” Geto said, and took Mika's empty plate as well and place it on the sink.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

The streets of Saitama were quieter than Tokyo, but no less alive. Mika walked beside Geto, taking in the rows of shops that lined the narrow street. The air was warm, carrying the scent of grilled skewers and sweet batter from the nearby food stalls. A string of paper lanterns swayed gently above them, remnants from a local festival that hadn’t been taken down yet.

Geto walked with his hands tucked in his pockets, glancing at Mika every now and then. “Not much to see here,” he said casually, though his lips curved into the faintest smirk. “But the food’s decent. That’s what matters.”

Mika’s eyes lit up at the first stall they passed, where skewers of yakitori sizzled over an open flame. The vendor fanned the smoke upward, the smell practically wrapping around them. “Not much to see?” she repeated, raising a brow. “You’re joking, right? This is already better than staring at concrete walls all day.”

“Concrete has its charm,” Geto muttered, but he slowed his pace. “Want one?”

Mika nodded eagerly, and soon enough they were walking again, each with a skewer in hand. She bit into hers, humming softly as the salty-sweet glaze hit her tongue. “Okay, now we're talking. This is good.”

“Of course it is,” he said, chewing on his own. “I don’t give bad recommendations.”

They strolled further down the street, weaving through small groups of people. Mika’s gaze darted from stall to stall—taiyaki, takoyaki, crepes, candied strawberries, even a cart selling roasted chestnuts. It was simple, but everything felt alive.

She stopped in front of a takoyaki stall, her eyes following the vendor’s practiced movements as he flipped the round batter balls with precision. “Those look fun.”

“Messy, but good,” Geto said. He handed a few coins to the vendor before she could protest, and soon enough they were sharing a tray topped with bonito flakes.

Mika stabbed one with a toothpick and blew on it carefully. “You didn’t have to pay for everything.”

“You’re my guest,” he replied smoothly, watching her take a cautious bite. “Besides, if you choke, at least I’ll be there to save you.”

She glared at him, cheeks puffed as she tried not to burn her tongue. “Very comforting.”

Geto chuckled, taking one for himself. “See? Not bad, right?”

“Not bad,” she admitted once she swallowed, her lips curving into a smile. “Actually… This is really good.”

As they moved along, Mika tugged gently at his sleeve, pointing to another stall. “What’s that?”

“Taiyaki. Fish-shaped pastry, usually filled with red bean, custard, or chocolate.”

Her eyes widened. “I want the chocolate one.”

Geto shook his head, amused, but followed her anyway. “You’re going to roll back home if you keep eating.”

“Then you’ll carry me,” she shot back.

His smirk widened. “That’s assuming I’ll agree to it.”

“You will,” she said confidently, clutching her newly bought taiyaki.

Geto glanced at her, watching the way her eyes lit up as she bit into the warm pastry. For the first time in a long while, he found himself enjoying the quiet comfort of walking these streets—not alone, but with someone who looked at them as if they were new.

They continued down the row of stalls, their laughter blending with the sounds of sizzling grills and chatter from passing locals. For Mika, it was a tour; for Geto, it felt more like rediscovering home.

“Ice cream!” Mika exclaimed, dashing toward the stall with the energy of a child.

“Again?” Geto sighed, letting out a quiet chuckle.

The stall was lined with rows of colorful tubs, each piled high with different flavors. Cones stacked neatly in glass jars, fruit toppings glistened under the light, and the faint smell of vanilla drifted through the air. Mika stood in front of it all with wide eyes, her hands clasped together in excitement as she scanned every option.

Geto stopped behind her, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Found a flavor you want?”

“I can’t choose! There’s too many,” Mika said, her eyes darting from one tub to another.

“Strawberry,” he said without hesitation. “That’s the one you always go for.”

“Yes, but…” she dragged the word out, leaning forward on her toes, “There are so many flavors”

“You’ll still fall for strawberries,” Geto replied, crossing his arms. His tone was flat, but his mouth twitched in the faintest smirk.

Mika glanced back at him, then laughed. “You’re right. Strawberry, please!” She turned back to the vendor, grinning as she placed her order.

The old lady handed them the cones with a warm smile. “Here you go. Two ice creams for a happy couple.”

Both Mika and Geto froze. They turned to one another at the same time, eyes meeting in brief shock before quickly breaking away. Mika pressed her lips together, her face warming, looking down at her shoes. Geto cleared his throat and averted his gaze toward the busy street, pretending to inspect the crowd as if nothing had happened. The ice cream in his hand was already beginning to drip down the side, though he didn’t notice.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fluster you both,” the old lady said with a small laugh, clearly amused.

Mika waved her free hand quickly, shaking her head, “N-no, it’s fine. Thank you very much for the ice cream.”

Geto finally remembered to move, fumbling to grab a tissue from the counter to stop his cone from melting further. “Yes, thank you,” he added politely, his gaze quickly looking away, his face turning red.

They stepped aside to make room for the next customer. Mika held her cone carefully, stealing a glance at Geto from the corner of her eye. He was trying very hard to keep a neutral expression, but the small twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed that he found the situation far too amusing.

“What?” Mika muttered, narrowing her eyes at him, though she refused to fully meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” Geto replied lightly, finally letting a smirk tug at his lips. “It seems people are quick to assume things, that’s all.”

She puffed out her cheeks, taking a defensive bite of her ice cream. “It’s their mistake, not mine.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head, watching her reaction with more interest than his melting dessert. “But you didn’t deny it either.”

Her steps faltered, and she nearly dropped her cone before shooting him an exasperated look. “Eat your ice cream before it ends up on your shirt, Suguru.”

He chuckled, finally giving in and licking the side of his cone before it completely dripped onto his hand. Mika sighed, shaking her head as they continued walking down the lively street, the playful tension still hanging between them.

Mika strolled a little behind Geto, passing along the quiet street, the afternoon sun spilling a warm glow over the rows of small shops. Her eyes wandered without much thought until something caught her attention — a small store tucked between a café and a flower shop. Its window displayed trinkets, keepsakes, and neatly arranged gift boxes. A simple wooden sign above the door read Personalized Treasures.

She slowed her pace, her gaze lingering a second longer than necessary. Geto noticed her fall behind, turning his head slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll… catch up,” Mika answered quickly, giving a small wave of her hand before stepping into the shop.

A soft bell rang as the door closed behind her, cutting her off from the street noise. The inside smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh ink. Shelves lined with picture frames, keychains, and pens filled the small space. She further her eyes wandering around, until they landed on a row of pens displayed in a glass case. They weren’t ordinary; each one could be engraved with a name.

Mika stood there staring at the black pen with gold on the side. She leans forward on the glass case, debating whether to get one or not. 

“Anything catches your eye?” the shopkeeper asked kindly, her voice warm as she approached the counter.

“That one, please,” Mika said, pointing toward the sleek black pen displayed in the glass case.

“An elegant choice,” the woman remarked, carefully taking it out. “And what name would you like engraved?”

“Geto Suguru,” Mika answered without hesitation.

The woman nodded, smiling as she carried the pen over to her workstation. “Alright then, I’ll prepare this right away.”

Left on her own, Mika began wandering around the little shop. Her eyes fell on a basket of novelty keychains shaped like miniature bottles of wine, each paired with a tiny glass. She picked one up and let out a small laugh.

“Shoko would love these,” she muttered to herself, already imagining her friend’s reaction.

She moved along the shelves, scanning for something else. Her eyes caught a basket of small plush toys, each round and soft, shaped almost like little mochi desserts. Mika smirked, grabbing one and turning it over in her hand.

“Perfect for Satoru. The idiot will probably make fun of it, but he won’t put it down.”

By the time she returned to the counter, the shopkeeper had already finished with the pen. She presented it with a small flourish, the name Suguru Geto engraved neatly in silver.

“It’s all done, miss,” the woman said warmly.

“Thank you,” Mika replied, genuinely smiling, and placed the plushie and keychain on the counter as well. “Could you include these too?”

“Of course.” The shopkeeper gathered everything together and began pricing the items. Mika pulled out her wallet and handed over the bills. The woman neatly packed everything into a small paper bag, tied with a simple string bow, before handing it over with both hands.

“Arigatō gozaimashita, mata okoshi kudasaimase,” (Thank you very much, please come again.) She said with a polite bow.

Mika bowed back slightly in return, clutching the bag carefully before stepping outside. The afternoon sunlight washed over her face as she rejoined the busy street.

Geto was waiting a few steps away, leaning casually against a lamppost with his arms crossed. His brown eyes shifted to her the moment she got out of the shop.

“What did you get?” he asked, 

“Nothing important,” Mika replied smoothly, hugging the paper bag a little closer to her side.  A small smile tugged at her lips, glancing up at him. “Shall we go?”

He studied her for a moment longer, then simply nodded. “Alright. If you say so.”

Falling into step beside him, Mika kept her eyes forward, her fingers curled protectively around the bag’s handle. 

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

After their little tour around town, the evening slipped by quietly. Now, all that was left was to wait for midnight to strike, welcoming Christmas. Mika sat comfortably on the couch, her phone glowing in her hands. She leaned against the armrest, her attention fixed on the lively flood of messages from her siblings in their private group chat.

Mont-Mont Group Chat:

Mazey: Merry Christmas! I wish you’re all here, Onee-chan and Onii-chan :(

Mikael: Merry Christmas, too! I’ll get back there as soon as possible, @Mazey.

Clarita: Forgive me for not being able to visit. I promise, after my medical on-site exam, I’ll go there!

Ace: I’m almost done with my mission. I’ll be home soon. Where’s Max and why is she MIA again? @Mazey?

Mazey: Skateboarding, and she dropped her phone the other day. It broke so she has nothing to use.

Ace: That girl. Tell her to be careful and stop doing dangerous tricks.

Mazey: She won’t listen to me, but okay!

Mika chuckled at their usual banter and began typing with a small smile on her face.

MikMik: Merry Christmas, @everyone! I love you and I miss you all!

It didn’t take long before the replies came pouring back.

Clarita: Hello, Mackenzie! We’re glad you’re okay now! You didn’t update us!

Mikael: Next time, tell me who you want me to destroy.

Clarita: River! Stop spreading negativity here!

Mika laughed softly, shaking her head. Her twin had always been the overly protective one, quick to pick fights at the thought of anyone hurting them. It was ridiculous, but also comforting in its own way.

Ace: I’m glad you’re alive, Mika. If those old geezers ever try to put you in that situation again, tell me immediately.

Mazey: Please take a rest too, Makiii!! I miss you!!

Mika’s chest felt warm reading their words. Even with all their chaotic personalities, the love they shared was something steady and grounding. She began typing again.

MikMik: Don’t worry too much about me. I’m safe, I’m eating well, and I’m surrounded by good people right now. I’ll come home soon, I promise.

Mazey: Take pictures of where you are now!!

Mika hesitated for a moment before lifting her phone, pointing the camera toward the living room. Geto was sitting across from her, flipping through channels on the TV without much interest. He caught her phone aimed in his direction, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” he asked lazily.

“Proof of life,” Mika said with a grin, snapping a quick photo of him mid-down and sending it straight into the group chat.

Almost immediately, the reactions from her siblings exploded. Her notification kept ringing, even Geto glanced up from his phone.

Clarita: …Who is THAT?

Mazey: KYAAA HE’S HANDSOME!

Mikael: Who the hell is that man? And why are you with him this Christmas Eve?

Ace: Brother, that’s Geto Suguru, the Special Grade sorcerer. Surely you met him at the infirmary.

Mikael: Special? What’s so special about him?

Mika, who had been scrolling through her phone with an amused grin, lazily tapped on her screen and fired back.

MikMik: FYI, Mikael. He’s a curse manipulator and a master in combat. So he’s definitely ALL THAT.

Mikael: Oh really?

MikMik: Yes. And don’t forget that I found out you almost had a fist fight with Gojo Satoru.

Clarita: River! Is this true?

Ace: I cannot help you with that one, brother.

Mikael: We didn’t fight! He pissed me off, but we didn’t fight!

Mazey: Brother, why are you still living in your gangster phase?

MikMik: Stop picking fights with my classmates, Mikael.

Mikael: He started it first!

MikMik: That’s exactly what children say.

Mikael: Okay, first of all, Gojo is brat. Second, stop siding with a brat.

Ace: Exactly why we’re not siding with you.

Mikael: Seriously Ace, who’s your real brother here?

Clarita: I do not want to hear any news like this ever again, River. Do you understand?

Mikael: How is this my fault?

Clarita: I said do you understand?

Mikael: Yes.

Mika snorted, reading the messages. She turned off the screen, turning to Geto. “My brother is questioning you being a special grade”

Ghetto chuckled, “I hope I won't get bad blood terms with him,” 

“You won't, he’s much more pissed off at Satoru” she laughs.

"It's funny how how he doesn't remember you. Ace says you met Mikael at the infirmary"

"We did meet a lot of times. I guess Mikael either is very stressed to remember us, or he's just forgetful" Geto shrugs,

"It's countdown, come on!" Geto's mother called out cheerfully, already reaching for the remote and flicking on the television. The bright numbers began to flash across the screen, the hosts clapping as they urged the crowd into the final moments of the year.

Geto's father moved closer to his wife, balancing a fruitcake on a plate, his face proud of the simple offering. He gently set it down on the table as though it were the centerpiece of the night.

Mika, still seated beside Suguru, carried a small bowl of dessert carefully in her hands. She took a spoonful, humming as she chewed. Suguru leaned toward her, one brow arched.

“Is it good?” he asked, his voice a little expectant.

Mika nodded quickly, swallowing. “Mm-hm. It’s delicious.”

His chest puffed out a little at her response, his mouth curling into a smug grin. “Thank you. I made that earlier,” he said, almost too proudly.

Mika blinked, looking at him in disbelief. “You… made this?”

Geto nodded proudly. A smirk crept his lips. 

She tilted her head, “Are you sure you didn’t just open the fridge and put it in a bowl?”

Suguru gasped, his eyes widening, “I’ll have you know, Miss Mika, that was a very time-consuming process. I stirred. I tasted it. I—”

“You licked the spoon and called it done?” she interrupted dryly, 

Suguru leaned closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “Exactly. But only a true genius chef could master that.”

She stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she took another bite. “Whatever feeds your ego” 

Behind them, Geto's mother was clapping in rhythm with the TV crowd, urging everyone to gather closer for the countdown. “Come on, you two, stop whispering. Ten! Nine!”

Geto's father raised his fruitcake with a grin, joining in. Mika and Suguru exchanged a glance, then turned back to the television, shoulders brushing as the numbers grew louder.

"I'm glad you're here, Mika," Geto said with a warm smile.

Mika turned to him, her heartbeat unsteady beneath her chest. A quiet smile touched her lips, gentler than she intended. "Me too, Suguru," she replied softly.

The countdown ticked closer to midnight, voices from afar carrying laughter and cheer. As the clock neared its final seconds, Geto slipped a hand into his coat pocket and drew out a small cushion box. His movements were calm, almost deliberate, though there was a flicker of anticipation in his eyes when he held it out to her.

"Merry Christmas, Mika," he murmured.

Mika blinked, completely surprised, before carefully taking the box into her hands. She opened it, her breath catching as the contents were revealed. Resting inside was a bracelet, a silver chain strung with delicate lilac glass beads that glimmered faintly beneath the soft lights. Small charms hung from it in an elegant arrangement: a butterfly at the center with wings tinted a pale shade of purple, a tiny heart etched with the word Dream, a pair of ballet slippers, a crystal flower, and other intricate details that gave it a quiet grace.

Her fingers lingered over the bracelet as she lifted her gaze back to him. A warmth bloomed in her chest, spilling into the smile that curved her lips. "Suguru," she said gently, her voice almost trembling, "thank you."

He reached forward, his hand brushing against hers as he carefully lifted the bracelet from its box. “May I?” he asked gently.

Mika nodded, holding out her wrist. His fingers were careful as he clasped the chain around her. The world seemed to fall quiet around, like it was just the two of them in the soft glow of midnight.

When the bracelet settled into her wrist, Mika lifted her arm slightly, watching the charms catch the light. The butterfly in the center swayed gently. She looked back at Geto, "They're very pretty. Thank you so much, Suguru."

Geto’s eyes softened, “I kept thinking about this earlier, to be the one to wear it on your wrist. It’s all I wanted.”

Mika drew in a quiet breath before reaching into her bag. Her fingers lingered for a moment against the small rectangular box, breathing softly before handing it toward him. A subtle smile graced her lips, observing the look of surprise that crossed his face.

“I’m sorry… this is all I could afford,” she said softly.

Geto accepted the box with a steady hand. He carefully lifted the lid, revealing the gift inside. A sleek black pen rested against the cushion, its edges lined with gold, his own name engraved along the side in silver. His brows knit together, staring at it. The weight of the gesture sinking in.

“Mika,” his voice was low, “do you know how priceless this is to me?”

She parted her lips, ready to respond, but the words eluded her. Before she could formulate a reply, he placed the box aside and stepped closer, enveloping her in his arms. His embrace was tender, a silent vow woven into the warmth of their connection. For a brief moment, Mika froze, savoring the comforting heat that enveloped her, before finally surrendering to the solace of his hold, allowing herself to lean into him.

After the holiday celebration, the house finally quieted down. Mika had already changed into her violet pajamas, her hair loose and slightly messy from the night’s excitement. She hugged Mr. Grizzly close to her chest while stepping out of her room, quietly closing the door behind her. Across the hallway was Geto’s room, and without much hesitation, she padded over and knocked softly.

It only took three knocks before the door creaked open. Geto appeared, his eyebrow arched in mock exasperation. “Again?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mika replied without shame, tilting her head. “Can I?”

He leaned against the doorframe, chuckling. “You do remember my mom nearly lost her mind earlier when she saw us under the covers, right?”

Mika shrugged, “Our conscience is clear. We didn’t do anything. Besides—” she held up her hand in mock oath, “—we’ll keep the hotdog pillow in the middle. Our boundaries are set. I promise.”

Geto sighed, shaking his head, but stepped aside anyway. “It's impossible to stop you anyway. Come in.”

Mika’s face lit up with triumph, slipping past him. The moment the door closed, she rushed to his bed, dove onto one side, and sprawled on her stomach like it was her own. She reached for the nearest Turtle stuffed toy tucked near the pillows, hugging it without hesitation. Now she has Grizzly and Turtle plushies in her hands.

“Are you an only child?” Mika asked, rolling onto her side, still squeezing the stuffed animal against her.

“Yeah,” Geto said, settling on the other side of the bed. He leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed loosely. “But don’t romanticize it. Being an only child gets lonely.”

Mika smirked. “Well, you have Satoru now.”

That earned a small laugh from him. “Exactly. Which only made me at least a little thankful for being an only child.”

Mika snorted and buried her laughter into the stuffed toy’s head. “Fair enough.”

Geto raised a brow, noticing how comfortably she was clinging to the plush. “You and Mr. Grizzly seem to have a solid bond already.”

She blinked and held the toy up, “This is yours? I thought it belonged to a little sibling or some cousin who left it behind.”

“Nope,” Geto said with a grin that was far too proud for the subject matter. “That’s mine. I’ve had him since I was six.”

Mika squished the bear’s head affectionately, giggling under her breath. “Still fluffy. And cute. Kind of like you, when you’re not busy acting like a smug special grade.”

Geto gave her a flat look, though the fondness in his eyes betrayed him. “I was really into grizzly bears when I was a kid. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m into ice bears,” Mika said proudly, a playful grin tugging at her lips. “You know, the white ones in the Arctic? They’re cold and they bite.”

Geto smirked. “So… basically your cursed technique. Very on brand. I like it.”

Her grin faltered, just a little. Mika fell quiet, her gaze returning to the plush bear in her arms. She shifted it slightly. Talking about her technique always made her tongue heavy, always left her unsure of what to say.

Noticing her hesitation, Geto’s smirk disappeared. He straightened slightly, scratching the back of his neck before coughing in a painfully fake way. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“That was thoughtless of me.” To cover the slip, he quickly added, “Anyway, what about your siblings? How close are you with them now? Especially Max and Maze? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Mika blinked, chuckling at his awkwardness. She turned her head toward him, her smile gentle this time. “I told you before, didn’t I? Things are better now. I love them so much. Max and Mazey mean the world to me.”

Geto smiled at the warmth in her tone, resting his chin in his hand as he leaned against the headboard. “You light up every time you talk about them. It’s obvious.”

“Well, they’re my family.” Mika hugged Mr. Grizzly tighter, “Even if we argue, sometimes”

“You’re lucky,” he said finally.

“Lucky?” Mika tilted her head.

He nodded. “To have so many siblings. To know that kind of love.”

Mika hesitated before trying to soften the weight in his voice. “Want me to share one? You can take Mikael. He’s moody, but he throws good punches.”

Geto snorted, the corner of his lips twitching. “Tempting. But I’ll pass.”

"I just thought of something, right now," Mika grinned softly, her eyes heavy with sleep. “I can’t take you to the Montclair estate, but… I could show you my old hometown in the Philippines.”

Geto’s eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise softening. “Oh? You’re half Filipino?”

“Yes,” Mika said, nodding gently. “Our clan is mixed. My father’s ancestors were pure Japanese, but over generations, the family line blended with other nationalities. Still, Japanese culture dominates the Montclair traditions. Even though the surname doesn’t sound Japanese at all.”

Geto leaned back slightly, intrigued. “Wait, tell me more. From what I know, the Montclairs aren’t part of the Big Three powerful clans. But they’re strong, despite being hidden and isolated from the others?”

Mika nodded thoughtfully. "That's because the Montclairs govern themselves. They operate independently, free from the control of any country or authority. We have our own set of rules and boundaries."

Geto’s lips curved into an amused smile. “And your mother’s side?”

"She’s half Spanish, half Filipino. My sister Maria and I tend to embrace our mother’s traditions more than those of the Montclairs." Her hands tightened slightly in her lap, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Why?" Geto asked gently, sensing the heaviness in her voice.

Mika averted her gaze, her eyes growing distant as she whispered, "Because there’s nothing to learn from our father."

“Oh,” Geto said softly, the single word carrying understanding rather than judgment. He leaned back against the headboard, letting the silence stretch between them, filled only by the quiet rhythm of the room.

“Can you speak Spanish?” Geto asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Sí,” Mika replied casually.

He raised a brow, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Really? Or do you just know yes and no?”

Her smirk deepens, “Sí, puedo hablar español. Lo hablo desde que tenía cinco años,” (Yes I can speak Spanish. I've been speaking that since I was 5) she said fluently with a clear spanish accent.

Geto blinked, his grin faltering. His eyes widened, coughing on his hand trying to maintain composure.  “Okay… I’ll admit it. I was too arrogant.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then quickly added, “How about Filipino Language?”

“I only know Tagalog,” she said with a shrug.

“Wait. What do you mean only Tagalog?”

Mika shifted, hugging the grizzly bear again. “The Philippines has many dialects. Tagalog is one of them. I remember when I was little, my nana spoke to me in Ilocano. I couldn’t understand a single word. She was talking to my mother, and I just sat there looking so lost.”

Geto chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Can I ask why you never learn that dialect?”

"I didn’t truly grow up in the Philippines," she explained, "nor in our hometown of Coruña in Spain. I was there for maybe two years? After that, my visits were limited to the holidays."

He nodded, leaning in with curiosity “Can you speak to me in Filipino? Just once?”

“Unang tingin ko pa lang sa’yo, alam ko nang guwapo ka,” (From the very first time I saw you, I already knew you were handsome.) she said in playful tone, 

Geto tilted his head. “And that means…?”

“Secret,” Mika replied, her grin growing wider while hugging the bear tighter.

He gave her a small pout, one far too genuine for his usual composed self. “Wait until I learn Filipino. Then I’ll find out what you just said.”

Mika laughed, shaking her head “Which one are you planning to study? Tagalog, or all of them? Good luck with that, genius.”

“No, not all of them!” he protested quickly, “Just the one you said. Ta… something?” He squinted, trying to recall the word.

“Tagalog,” Mika said, her laughter echoing in the room “Say it with me: Ta-ga-log.”

“I’m not five,” Geto muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Then why do you sound five?” Mika teased.

His head snapped back toward her, mock offense in his expression. “Excuse me?”

“Suguru, if you’re this bad with three syllables, you'll never survive full sentences.”

“I will learn, okay? Just wait for it,” Geto said with determination,

Mika chuckled quietly, already sliding under the covers, her head sinking into the pillow. Her eyes grew heavier with each blink until they finally fluttered shut. 

After a few minutes, Geto let out a soft sigh and turned onto his side to watch her. The room was dim, illuminated only by the gentle glow of the night lamp, casting shadows on the walls. In that quiet moment, he found himself taking in her features. Her face looked serene, framed by loose strands of hair on the side of her cheeks. He couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her lashes, the subtle blush on her cheeks, and the slight parting of her lips as sleep fully embraced her.

“How can you fall asleep that fast?” Geto murmured, a soft smile on his face. 

Geto felt bewitched by her beauty, his eyes couldn’t be torn away from the sight of her. Mika was only inches away from him, already comfortable in the covers. He glanced around his bed, chuckling at the thought of how he used to swear he wouldn’t share it with anyone, but when Mika showed up at his door, holding her pillow like a child lost in a storm, he couldn’t let her sleep on the couch like he did to Satoru. 

Suguru looked at her one last time, a tender softness in his gaze. He leaned his head slightly toward her and whispered, just above the hush of the night: 

“I like you, Mika.” He muttered, “I like you very much.” 

Falling for the ice became the enchantment he had longed for, even beneath the daylight of spring.

✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧ ❄︎ ✧

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

“You okay, Mika?”

Shoko’s voice was gentle, as always. She stood by the doorway with a clipboard pressed to her chest, observing quietly. “Your reflexes are better now. Try going for a short walk. It’ll help your feet recover faster.”

Mika gave a small nod, but it was Geto who moved first, stepping beside her and offering his hand without a word. She took it quietly, her fingers curling around him. He supported her weight as she began to push herself up from the bed, her body still sluggish with rest.

The moment her foot met the floor, a sharp jolt of discomfort made her flinch. She stiffened, instinctively pulling back.

“Wait,” Geto said softly, already lowering himself to one knee. “Sit back for a second.” 

He reached for the slipper tucked just beneath the bed and carefully slid it onto her foot, adjusting the angle so it wouldn’t press against the sore spot. 

Shoko glanced over her shoulder at the two of them, a faint smirk forming at the corners of her lips. She said nothing, but the look lingered before she turned away again.

Mika caught the glance but decided to ignore it. Her eyes remained fixed on Geto as he stood up again. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“No problem,” he replied, offering his hand again to help her up. She stood up, her hand on his.

“Make sure to come back before nine a.m.,” Shoko reminded, a faintly teasing smile curling at her lips. “Don’t enjoy it too much.”

Mika shot her a sharp look, while Geto guided her toward the doors. He pushed them open with one hand and kept the other steady on her arm, ensuring her balance as they stepped out. Once she was through, he closed the door quietly behind them and moved to her side.

The faint sound of her slippers brushing the floor as they approached the stairs. Geto glanced at her feet briefly before speaking. “Be careful,” he said softly, stepping down ahead of her. His hand remained secure around hers while his other settled lightly at her waist. “Can you manage the stairs?”

“I think I can,” Mika murmured, her voice low but certain. She tightened her hold on his hand and began to descend, each step deliberate under his watchful eye.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

Geto walked beside Mika, matching his pace to hers. One hand was gently clasped around hers while his other arm supported her waist, keeping her steady as they made their way through the forest trail connected to the Jujutsu Institute. The early morning breeze carried the faint scent of pine and damp earth, leaves crunching softly beneath their feet.

“Tell me if it starts hurting, okay? We can take a break,” Geto said, his voice surprisingly soft.

Mika nodded, focusing on the path ahead. Her fingers curled tighter around his hand whenever her steps wavered, her body still adjusting after her recent injury.

“Mika,” Geto called after a moment.

“Hm?” She glanced up at him, catching the shift in his expression. His usual calm softened into something hesitant before he looked away, letting out a quiet sigh.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

“I want to apologize,” he began slowly. “The truth is… I got scolded by the higher-ups. They were furious that I interrupted your mission. Apparently, they were testing whether you’d survive without assistance and if you could push through without collapsing. I’m afraid my interference might have cost you. If I hadn’t stepped in, you might have been promoted to Grade 1. Instead… they only gave you Semi-Grade 1. I’m sorry, Mika. I ruined your chance.”

Mika stopped walking, staring at him in disbelief. Her brows knitted together. “I got promoted?”

Geto hesitated, caught off guard by her reaction. “Y-Yes… Semi-Grade 1,” he answered, the rare stutter slipping out.

Her eyes widened, and a grin broke across her face. “Oh my God! I did?!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with joy.

“Yes, but—” Geto began.

“Ah!!” Mika squealed, springing toward him struglling to hop in one foot, and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve been waiting so long for this! Thank you!”

Geto blinked, momentarily frozen by the sudden warmth pressed against him. His hands instinctively rested on her back, holding her just enough to keep her close without making her injury worse. “…But I thought you were aiming for Grade 1?” he murmured.

“I was,” she said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, her smile still beaming. “And I’ll get it next time. Don’t worry about that.” She winked before bouncing slightly in place, her excitement refusing to fade. “But still—ahhh! I can’t believe it! They really promoted me! Me, after being stuck in Grade 2 for so long! I thought I’d never move up!”

Her laughter echoed through the quiet forest, contagious and bright. Geto found himself smiling without realizing it. The guilt that had been gnawing at him since the mission felt lighter with each word she spoke.

“I’m proud of you,” he said sincerely.

Mika’s eyes softened, her grin turning into something gentler. She squeezed his hand and leaned her head briefly against his shoulder as they resumed walking. “And I’m grateful for you. Even if they say you ‘interfered,’ you were there when I needed you. That matters more than any rank.”

Geto glanced down at her, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “Careful, you’ll make me think you actually like having me around.”

“I do,” Mika replied without hesitation, her tone playful but honest. “So, you’re stuck with me.”

The rest of their walk was unhurried, filled with light conversation and the quiet comfort of each other’s company, the forest path seeming far less daunting with their hands still intertwined.

After a few minutes of walking, Mika’s breathing grew uneven, and her grip on Geto’s hand tightened. “Can we take a break?” she asked quietly, pausing near a tree and resting her shoulder against its trunk.

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation. His hand shifted to guide her gently toward a nearby bench, his steps matching her slow pace. Once there, he eased her down onto the seat before lowering himself beside her.

“Feeling okay?” he asked, his voice calm, eyes scanning her for any sign of discomfort.

“Yep, just tiring,” she murmured, leaning back slightly as she let the tension in her shoulders fade.

Geto leaned back slightly, glancing at her with a faint smile. “We could head back if you want. No one’s going to complain if you rest early.”

She shook her head. “No… I want to keep going. Just a few more minutes.”

“Alright,” he said simply, resting his arm along the back of the bench. “But you have to promise you’ll tell me if it starts to hurt again.”

“I’m not a kid, you know,” she replied, side-eyeing him.

He chuckled softly. “You say that, but you’re still stubborn enough to walk on an injured foot.”

“Shoko advised it,” she replied.

“Which is exactly why I was against it,” he said with a low chuckle. “But who am I to argue? I’m not the one in the medical field.”

Geto quietly sat down beside Mika on the bench, the faint creak of wood under their weight. He had a cold water bottle in his hand—the same one he grabbed earlier before they left. Without a word, he held it out to her.

"Water?" he asked.

Mika eyed the bottle for a moment before taking it gently. "Thanks," she muttered, twisting the cap and taking a slow sip.

He leaned back slightly, glancing her way. "Mika, if you don’t mind me asking… What's your family like?"

She turned to him with a raised brow. "Why are you suddenly asking?"

He smirked faintly. "Because I’ve always heard your brother’s intimidating, but seeing him in person? Yeah, that’s on a whole other level."

Mika blinked at him, still confused. "Can I have more details?"

"He showed up here the moment he found out you were hospitalized. He was furious, which, to be fair, makes sense since it was your life on the line. But…" Geto paused, his tone dropping into amusement, "he almost threw hands with Satoru."

Mika groaned and facepalmed. "Oh my God."

"Your older sister, Maria Clara, came too. That was my first time meeting her," he went on.

Mika sighed, almost smiling at the thought. "She’s really warm and gentle."

Geto tilted his head, eyes narrowing in a teasing grin. "She is. But you—"

She cut him a glare sharp enough to stop him mid-sentence. Geto just laughed, his head tilted back, "Relax. I’m not complaining. I prefer you."

Her eyebrow twitched, mouth curving into a half-frown. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, leaning closer so his voice dropped just for her, "you’re the one I want sitting next to me right now, and always. Not your brother, not your sister. You."

Mika’s lips pressed into a thin line, but her ears betrayed her with a faint pink. She looked away, sipping from the bottle again.

"Careful," Geto teased, "if you drink that too fast, you’ll choke. And then your terrifying brother will show up to kill me for real."

She snorted before she could stop herself. "You talk too much."

"Thank you," he said with a lazy grin, "But seriously," Geto said, leaning back slightly, "I think you told me before you’re all… six siblings, right?"

Mika hummed in confirmation, giving a short nod. “hm-mm”

"I’ve met three," he went on, holding up his fingers like a gun. "That’s half the set already. Pew, pew”

She rolled her eyes at his playful tone and shook her head, a small chuckle slipping out before she turned back to him.

"It’s true, we’re six," she said. "The first four are Maria Clara, Mikael, me, and Ace. We’re the children from my father’s first marriage." She paused briefly before continuing. "Then came Maxine and Maze from his second marriage. At first… I hated them. I couldn’t accept them that easily. I was furious because my father divorced my mom for their mother. He threw her out of the estate. I wanted to go with her, but they didn’t let me." Her voice grew quieter toward the end.

Geto’s usual teasing faded. His brows drew together as he listened, his gaze fixed on her face.

"I don’t want to hate them," Mika said, her tone low and steady. "But in the beginning, I blamed them so much. I told myself it was their fault… even though they were just kids. I shouldn’t have thought that way. They’re still my sisters." Her grip tightened on the water bottle. "I started to accept them when I saw how my father treated them no differently than he did to us. They’re already suffering at their age. And I can’t ignore it. I see myself in them. I know exactly what they’re going through, and hey didn’t deserve it."

She let out a long breath and finally turned her head toward him. She felt herself becoming more vulnerable, and tears threaten to come out of her eyes. 

"Am I a terrible person for blaming them back then?" she asked.

Geto didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently reached for her hand and squeezed it, gently. Mika stared back at him, frowning. 

"No," he said. "You were a kid too, and you're hurt, Mika. You reacted to pain the only way you knew how. That doesn’t make you terrible. It makes you human."

Mika stared at him, unsure what to say. Geto squeezed her hand tighter, his thumb brushing against her palm. 

"If anything," he added, his eyes still locked on hers, "the fact that you’ve let go of that anger… that’s what matters. You’re not the same person you were then. You’ve grown."

She gulps, her voice shaking, "Grown into w-what, exactly?"

"Someone who can see the difference between fault and circumstance," Geto said simply. "That’s rare. Most people cling to their grudges until it rots them from the inside."

Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone. She looked away, blinking slowly, unsure whether it was relief or guilt that sat heavier in her stomach.

Geto leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "You’re not a terrible person, Mika. But if you want me to tell you again until you believe it, I will.”

Her lips trembled before she could stop herself. She turned her head away, quickly swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

"Mika… shh," Geto murmured, leaning in. He reached out, gently turning her face toward him. She glanced up at him briefly before her eyes dropped again, and his thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away the wetness that kept falling.

"You’re a good person," he said, his voice steady and quiet. "Your past mistakes don’t define you. They’re lessons, and they belong where they came from, and that's in the past. That’s the reason why it’s behind you."

He pulled her forward until her forehead rested against his chest, his hand settling on the back of her head.

"But if they keep hurting you," he said, his tone sharpening, "come to me. I’ll protect you from them."

Her voice cracked, muffled against him. "They… they want me gone."

Geto’s arms tightened around her, his breath deepening. "Then let them try," he said, his voice hard. "I’ll kill them before they lay a hand on you. And whatever cruelty they’ve shown you—" his jaw clenched, "—I’ll return it three times over."

Mika said nothing, her face pressed deeper against his shirt as silent tears soaked through the fabric. His heartbeat was solid beneath her ear, a steady anchor while the weight inside her chest threatened to crush her.

"I’m not letting you fall," Geto said, "No matter how many times they push you away, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving you." He kept her in his hold, his hand moving slowly through her hair, silently telling her he can be his comfort walls. 

The sharp sound of an alarm cut through the quiet, coming from Geto’s phone. He glanced at the screen and sighed.

"It’s already nine," he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "We should head back. Shoko’s checking on you in fifteen minutes."

Mika stood up with him, her hand naturally finding his as she straightened.

"Can you walk? The trail’s a bit long from here," Geto asked, scanning the path ahead.

"It’s only a ten-minute walk to the Institute," Mika said with a small chuckle.

"Yes, but the ground’s slippery. It rained last night, and there are too many loose rocks," he countered.

She rolled her shoulders with a shrug. "Yeah, yeah. I can manage. That’s what my legs are for."

Geto smirked. "You sure? Oh well," he sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "I was planning to carry you on my back, but since you’re so confident…" He trailed off, shrugging casually.

Mika froze, staring at him. Her lips parted slightly, then she scrunched her forehead, shutting her eyes as if in sudden pain. "Ah! My foot hurts. I think the sprain’s worse. I can’t walk," she said, letting out a theatrical sigh.

Geto chuckled, shaking his head. "See? You could’ve just admitted you wanted me to carry you."

"You should’ve offered sooner," Mika shot back.

"I did," he reminded her.

"Not like that. I mean immediately. No need extra words. Just—" she raised her voice mockingly, lowering it to imitate him—"‘Mika, get on my back.’ That’s how it should’ve been."

Geto laughed, turning around and crouching slightly. "Alright then, princess. Your royal carriage awaits."

"Better," Mika muttered as she climbed onto his back, her arms draping over his shoulders.

"Comfortable?" he asked, hooking his arms under her legs and standing.

"Not really," she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You’ve got bony shoulders."

"Ungrateful," he scoffed, starting down the trail. "Next time, I’m dropping you on the rocks."

"You wouldn’t dare," she replied smugly.

He tilted his head just enough for her to feel his smirk. "Try me."

Mika snorted but didn’t move away. For all her complaints, she didn’t loosen her hold either. And Geto, despite his teasing, adjusted his grip slightly to make sure she didn’t slip while he was walking steadily, careful with every step.

Mika swung her legs lazily in the air as Geto carried her on his back, his grip steady but gentle.

"You’re acting like a child," he said with a low chuckle.

She turned her head, studying his side profile. Without warning, she grabbed his face from behind and squished his cheeks together.

"Hmph—" Geto’s eyes widened, his voice muffled.

"Sharp jaw. Nice eyes. Straight nose. Handsome face," she listed, her tone casual before she added with a sarcastic smile, "…all wasted on a jackass." She released his cheeks and sat back with a satisfied grin.

Geto shot her a sideways glare over his shoulder, though there was amusement in his eyes. "I should’ve dropped you when I had the chance," he muttered.

"What?! What did you just say?!" Mika yelled, not actually questioning him, it's just her way of being annoying.

He groaned, turning his head away. "I can hear fine without you yelling in my ear, Mika."

"OKAY!" she shouted again, leaning even closer to his ear.

"Keep that up and you’re hitting the ground," he said flatly, rolling his eyes.

Mika only smiled to herself, keeping quiet for a few seconds before leaning forward and pressing into his side.

"AHHH!" she screamed, 

"Ah—!" Geto groaned, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden noise right next to his head.

"Okay, I’m fine now. You can keep walking," she said sweetly, swinging her legs again.

He muttered something under his breath, nothing she could make out, and kept walking with a slight scowl on his face. "Brat."

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall~ Humpty Dumpty had a great fall~" Mika sang in a deliberately childish tone, tugging at his shoulders to shake him.

"Mika," he warned, groaning, "if you keep doing that, we’re both going to have a Humpty Dumpty fall."

She laughed, tightening her arms around his shoulders so she wouldn’t slip. "Fine, fine. I’ll behave."

"That’ll be the day," he said under his breath, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a faint smile.

They walked on, the path slick from the night’s rain. Mika rested her chin on his shoulder, her voice suddenly quieter. "You know, for someone who complains this much, you’re walking pretty steady."

"That’s because I value my life," Geto replied dryly. "If I drop you, your brother will murder me."

"True," Mika said with a smug grin. "So you admit I’m safe here?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Safe enough. Annoying as hell, but safe."

She snorted, leaning her forehead against the back of his neck. "Then I guess I’ll stay here a little longer."

Geto didn’t answer, but his hold on her legs tightened just slightly as he kept walking.

Geto walked at a steady pace, careful with each step on the damp trail. His hands were hooked securely under Mika’s legs, keeping her steady on his back. She had her arms loosely draped over his shoulders, feet swinging from side to side as they moved.

For a brief moment, he thought he might actually get a peaceful walk back to the Institute. Until that illusion shattered almost immediately.

"We’re going on a trip, in our favorite rocket ship~

Zooming through the sky, little Einsteins~"

Geto’s shoulders sagged with a long, deep sigh.

"Climb aboard, get ready to explore~

There’s so much to find, little Einsteins~"

He cast a slow side glance, his expression a mix of disbelief and judgment. "Do you know any songs that aren’t nursery rhymes?"

"You say that like you didn’t grow up listening to Children songs," Mika replied, smirking against his shoulder.

"I didn’t," he said flatly.

"Liar."

"It’s true. I didn’t—hmph!" His words were cut short when Mika suddenly grabbed his cheeks from behind and squished them together.

"Liars go to hell," she said without missing a beat.

Geto groaned, trying to tilt his head away from her grip. "Alright, fine! I listened to one, okay? Happy now?" His voice was muffled from her hold.

"Not yet. What was it?" she pressed.

"I’m not telling you," he said firmly.

Her hands went for his face again, squishing even harder.

"Ah—! Mika—hmp—!" he grumbled. "Alright, fine! My favorite song was Mickey Mouse!"

"Ooooh," Mika drawled in mock excitement, swinging her legs again. "Hotdog."

"Oh my god," Geto muttered.

"Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog~

Now we got ears, it’s time for cheers~

Hot dog, hot dog, the problem’s solved~

Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog~"

she sang with deliberate enthusiasm, breaking into giggles halfway through.

"Please stop," Geto groaned, though his shoulders shook as if he was holding back a laugh.

"Nope," Mika said cheerfully. "You’re stuck with me until we get back. Which means—" She started to sing the chorus again, only louder this time.

Geto shook his head, muttering under his breath, "I’m never telling you anything ever again."

"Too late. It’s already burned into my brain," she said, leaning forward so her chin rested on his shoulder.

"Good. Now I know who to blame when I hear that song in my sleep," he replied, adjusting his grip on her legs before continuing down the trail.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

Another month past, It was nearing the holidays, the air in Jujutsu High growing colder with each passing day. Frost had started clinging to the edges of the windows, and the morning winds carried the faint scent of pine from somewhere beyond the school grounds. Mika had been receiving an avalanche of letters from her father—ever since word got out that she had successfully performed a Domain Expansion during her last mission.

To the higher-ups, it was a triumph. A breakthrough. A rising-star moment worth endless praise and attention. To Mika, it was exhausting.

Yes, it worked, but there was nothing to celebrate. Her Domain was still unpolished, full of gaps and weaknesses she could feel pressing against her every time she thought about it. She had more flaws to fix than techniques to brag about, yet no one seemed to care about that. The more they applauded her, the heavier the pressure felt.

Everyone saw potential. No one saw the weight.

She sat tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, headphones resting loosely in her ears as she leafed through the pages of the book in her hands. The only sound was the soft scratch of paper turning and the low hum of music filtering in. Her shoulders had begun to loosen in the comfort of the silence.

A sudden tap on her shoulder cut through the calm. She slipped one earbud out and glanced up.

Geto stood there, wearing that lazy, half-smile that somehow managed to look both friendly and suspicious at the same time. Without waiting for an invitation, he slid into the chair beside her, resting an elbow on the table.

“Got any plans for the holidays?” he asked.

Mika blinked once before closing her book halfway. “Not really. You?”

“I’m heading home,” he said, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head until his shoulders cracked. “My mom’s been nagging me for weeks. My Dad too. Apparently, they think I don’t eat enough.”

“What about Satoru and Shoko?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Shoko’s going to her grandma’s place in their hometown,” Suguru said, counting on his fingers. “And Satoru…” he snorted, “poor guy’s being hauled back to the Gojo estate for more clan training.”

Mika winced in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“Right? The Gojo clan isn’t exactly famous for warm family reunions.”

“So he’s still being pushed as the next head?” she asked, leaning her cheek into her palm.

“As if he has a choice,” Suguru muttered, rolling his eyes. “When the Gojo clan wants something, they’ll chain you to it if they have to.”

He turned the conversation back on her with a teasing glint in his eye. “And what about your family? Is Mikael next in line for the Montclair throne?”

She gave him a flat look. “We don’t have a throne.”

“Then… the Montclair Supreme Council?” he tried again, and chuckles. “Do you all wear fancy robes and argue about who gets the biggest room in the estate?”

“Not funny,” she said, though the corner of her lips betrayed the start of a smile.

Mika let out a short laugh. “But yeah, pretty much. And Mikael, well... He’s the eldest who's also the only he’s special grade in the family, and he’s dead set on taking the Head position in the clan. Now that I think about it, I do miss him… but he’s overseas again, so he won’t be around for the holidays.”

“How about Maria?” Suguru asked, resting his chin in his palm.

“Locked in her dorm, drowning in medical textbooks. She’s cramming for her exams. Classic overachiever move.”

“And you?” he pressed.

“I,” Mika began, placing one hand dramatically over her chest, “have absolutely no intention of returning to the toxic depths of the Montclair estate. I’d rather spend my break being possessed by a Grade 1 curse, thank you very much.”

Suguru burst into laughter, leaning back in his seat until the chair creaked. “Wow. That bad, huh? Well then… how about you come with me to my hometown instead? My mom makes a killer hotpot, she missed having genuine visitors too.”

Mika arched a brow, lowering her hand from her chest. “Suguru, if I show up at your house, your mother might assume I’m pregnant.”

That caught him so off guard he inhaled sharply, coughing mid-laugh. “What—?!” He nearly doubled over. “Where in the world did that come from?”

“I lived in an estate with Christian religion,” Mika said, tone flat but eyes faintly amused. “Our Clan has its own Highlands, gossip runs on caffeine and imagination. You bring a girl home, and she’s either pregnant or your secret wife.”

Suguru’s mouth fell open in exaggerated disbelief. “That… is oddly specific. Should I be concerned?”

“Concerned? No,” she replied, crossing her arms over the table. “Prepared? Absolutely.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Wow. Sounds like I should cancel before rumors start traveling across time zones.”

They both broke into laughter, the kind that shook their shoulders and made it hard to breathe. Whatever heaviness had been clinging to them over the past few weeks seemed to finally lift, scattered away in the warmth of the moment.

“You’re ridiculous,” Mika managed between breaths, still fighting back a giggle.

“You started it,” Suguru shot back with an easy grin. “But seriously—the offer’s still on the table. If you want to escape all this madness, my place has food, quiet, and exactly zero higher-ups breathing down your neck.”

“…Tempting,” Mika admitted, letting her gaze drift toward the tall library windows. Outside, the winter sky hung pale and heavy, a faint dusting of snow beginning to gather on the grounds.

Suguru leaned sideways, tilting his head to catch her expression. His upper body shifted over the table just enough for her to notice, that same innocent smile tugging at his lips.

She turned back toward him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, the smile growing a little too smug to be convincing.

Suspicious, she reached out and lightly pushed his face away with the tips of her fingers. “You’re staring.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied smoothly, straightening his posture but keeping his gaze on her. “You’re making that face.”

“What face?” she asked, arms crossing in mild irritation.

“The one that says, ‘I’m pretending to think about it, but I’m already saying yes in my head.’”

Mika blinked once. “You’re imagining things.”

“Mm-hm.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell my mom to set an extra place at the table.”

“I didn’t say yes!” she exclaimed, though her lips were already twitching with a suppressed smile.

“Didn’t have to,” he said, tapping on his screen. “I’m a people reader. It’s a gift.”

“More like a pest,” she muttered.

“You’re coming either way,” Suguru said with a shrug, as if the matter was already settled.

“I said I haven’t agreed yet,” Mika shot back, rolling her eyes.

He leaned forward on the table, lowering his voice as though presenting a very serious ultimatum. “Alright, you got three choices. You can spend the holidays with Satoru and his loud, annoying ass. You can go with Shoko and her chain-smoking marathon sessions. Or…” He paused dramatically, spreading a hand toward himself. “…you can spend it with this handsome, kind man sitting right in front of you.”

Mika raised a brow, then turned her head toward the empty space in front of her. “Handsome man where?”

His expression went flat. Without missing a beat, he placed a firm hand on top of her head and turned her face toward him. “Me.”

She arched a brow higher, lips curling in a faint scowl. “Be terrified of your own delusions.”

Suguru chuckled under his breath, clearly unfazed, and deliberately ran his hand through her hair, mussing it into an unruly mess.

“Hey—!” Mika reacted instantly, grabbing his wrist and giving it a light twist.

He winced, though there was still a grin tugging at his mouth. “Ow, fuck! Okay, okay—shit, that actually hurts. I’ll behave, Mika, damn!”

“Good,” she said, releasing his hand and smoothing her hair back into place.

Suguru flexed his wrist dramatically, muttering under his breath, “You’re fucking violent for someone so small.”

Her eyes flicked to him in warning. “What was that?”

He smiled sweetly, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing.”

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

Mika ended up going with Suguru to his hometown in the end. Anything was better than sitting through the holidays listening to her father drone on about “legacy” and “Montclair standards” over a slice of dry fruitcake.

She spent nearly an hour folding her clothes, stacking books, and untangling her headphones before finally zipping up her purple suitcase. The sound of the zipper sliding shut felt like the official start of her escape.

Grabbing the handle, she turned toward the door, only to find Suguru standing there, hand raised mid-knock. He froze for a second, then lowered his hand with a sheepish smile.

“Ready?” he asked.

Mika gave a small nod, lifting her suitcase as proof. “Mm-hmm.”

“Here, I’ll take it,” he said, and without waiting for her to argue, he easily pulled it from her grip. She let him, watching as he carried it like it weighed nothing at all.

She locked her door, slipped the keys into her pocket, and followed him outside. The winter air bit at her cheeks, but the sky was clear, faint stars still visible despite the glow of the street lamps. They walked across the quiet parking lot until they reached the sleek black polished, and luxurious car waiting near the entrance. Suguru popped the trunk, setting her suitcase inside carefully, as though her folded shirts were something fragile.

“Wow,” Mika muttered. “You put it down softer than you usually treat yourself.”

He gave her a pointed look over the trunk lid. “Do you always narrate my kindness, or is this a special holiday feature?”

She smirked faintly and shrugged. “Depends. Keep being useful, and maybe I’ll give you a glowing review.”

Suguru only shook his head, lips twitching into a grin. Once the trunk shut with a soft click, he moved to open the passenger door for her.

Mika blinked at him. “What’s this? Gentleman mode?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied. “It’s seasonal. It might expire after New Year.”

Still amused, she slipped into the seat. The leather was cool against her palms as she adjusted, watching him jog around to the driver’s side. Once he was in, he pulled on his seatbelt and glanced her way.

“Seatbelt, Mika.”

She clipped it into place with an exaggerated click. “Yes, Dad.”

His laugh filled the car, low and warm, and the sound somehow made the night feel less sharp. He turned the keys, and the engine hummed to life.

“Ready to survive the holidays Montclair-free?” he asked.

“Ready to survive you for a whole week?” she shot back.

“Fair warning,” Suguru said, putting the car in gear, “I assure you, my mom will overfeed us both. I hope you came prepared.”

Her stomach grumbled at the thought, and she gave him a side-eye. “Better than fruitcake.”

“That’s the spirit.” He grinned, and with that, the car rolled out of the lot, carrying them toward something far softer than the Montclair standards could ever offer.

Mika let her eyes wander as the car eased onto the road. The hum of the engine was steady, the leather seats firm under her, the dashboard spotless, and the windows polished so clean they reflected her face. She blinked and turned to him.

“Wait. Since when do you drive a car? I thought you only rode a motorbike.”

Suguru chuckled as he adjusted the wheel. “Have you ever tried strapping two suitcases onto a bike? One bump and we’d both be airborne.”

She raised her brows, lips twitching. “Fair point.” Settling deeper into her seat, she glanced around again. “So this car, it’s yours?”

“Yup,” he said, sounding just a little too pleased with himself. “Bought it with my sorcerer paycheck. Being a special grade comes with perks… you know, aside from the constant risk of dying horribly.”

Mika let out a short laugh. “Good to know. Blood money is a luxury.”

“Exactly,” he replied without shame, flashing her a grin.

She shook her head, amusement slipping onto her face despite herself. The car’s heater filled the space with warmth, and the city lights outside began to blur as they picked up speed. She leaned her head against the headrest, watching the road stretch endlessly ahead.

“But seriously,” Mika said after a beat, genuine curiosity creeping in. “You’re still technically a student. Do they really pay you that much?”

“Let’s just say…” Suguru leaned back slightly, considering how to phrase it. “I managed to save enough for a three-story house in three months, but once I graduate and work full-time as a sorcerer? Give me a month, and I could buy two Lamborghini Veneno in cash.”

Her head tilted, eyes narrowing. “A month?”

He glanced at her, a little smug. “Why a month, you ask? Although Special Grades are well-paid, their compensation still depends on the mission assignments. If the threat isn’t big enough, the job goes to Grade 1 to Grade 4 sorcerers. So sometimes I have to wait.”

Mika nodded slowly, taking it in. “Still. That’s… wow. Young, rich, and a bachelor. Dangerous combination.”

Suguru laughed, shaking his head. “Too bad luxury isn’t really my thing.”

“Not your thing?” she teased, leaning a little toward him. “What, did you already buy your family a mansion or something?”

He hesitated, then sighed as if caught. “…Okay. Yes. But it’s not a mansion-mansion. It’s just a decent three-story house. With a pool. And a koi pond. And maybe a home theater.”

Mika stared at him. “Suguru. That’s literally a rich people starter pack.”

He chuckled and lifted one hand from the wheel in defense. “Hey, I’m trying to stay humble here. Don’t ruin the image.”

Her lips curved despite herself. “So if you’re not spending on yourself, then what? What’s the priority? World peace? Secret identity as a plant dad?”

He grinned. “Actually… I want a vegetable garden.”

She blinked, certain he was joking. “…Are you serious?”

“Completely,” he said, utterly straight-faced. “Tomatoes, cucumbers, maybe some peppers. I want to wake up and pick my own salad.”

Mika turned in her seat to look at him properly, her expression flat. “you’re telling me that with all the money and power you’ve got, your dream is… to be a farmer?”

“Not a farmer,” he corrected with mock seriousness. “An urban farmer. There’s a difference.”

She pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Seriously…”

“Don’t mock the vision,” he said, grinning as he shifted lanes. “Imagine it—me in the backyard, hair tied up, watering the lettuce. Peaceful. Domestic. No curses trying to kill me. Isn’t that a dream?”

Mika fought back a laugh but failed, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook. “That’s the most un-Special-Grade thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, if I can exorcise curses, I can definitely handle Harvesting,” he said confidently. “And it'll be fun.”

Her laughter broke out fully then, echoing through the car. She leaned back against the seat, clutching her stomach, while he wore the most satisfied smile at having pulled it out of her.

“Hey, that’s not my only goal, you know,” Suguru said, his tone suddenly casual.

“Oh yeah?” Mika raised a brow. “What else could possibly Top being an urban farmer?”

“Saving up to give my puppies a luxurious life.”

Mika snapped her head toward him so fast the seatbelt tugged against her shoulder. “You have dogs?” Her voice carried the same astonishment as if he had just confessed to hiding mythical creatures in his backyard.

Suguru smirked and steered one-handed, pulling out his phone with the other. He unlocked it quickly and handed it over. “See for yourself.”

On the screen was a photo of three husky puppies, all fluff and floppy ears, their eyes bright and mischievous. One snow white with icy blue eyes, another was brown-white, and the last was a red-white with green eyes.

Mika’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. They’re different colors. You’re not even kidding.” She flicked to the next picture and gasped again. “They look like—” she caught herself, then muttered, “Never mind. They’re ridiculously perfect. I love them.”

“They’re named Summer, Winter, and Autumn,” he said proudly.

“That’s so cute,” Mika admitted, scrolling through his gallery with a smile tugging at her lips. There were more pictures: the puppies sleeping in a pile, tumbling over each other in the grass, chewing on one of his slippers. “All named after seasons, huh? Where’s Spring then?”

Suguru glanced at her, grin spreading. “She’s right here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where?”

He gestured toward her seat without missing a beat. “Sitting beside me.”

Mika froze, phone still in her hand. “…Are you—” She whipped her head toward him, narrowed her eyes, and smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Excuse me?!”

“OW—hey!” he burst out laughing, rubbing the spot she hit. “That was a compliment!”

“You just compared me to a dog.”

“A beautiful, seasonal-themed dog!” he shot back, grinning wider.

She groaned and crossed her arms, muttering under her breath. “Fuck you.” But the corners of her lips betrayed her, twitching upward.

Suguru laughed so hard his shoulders shook. “Okay, okay! No more canine comparisons. You can be… I don’t know, a fierce lioness if that’s better.”

Mika rolled her eyes, but her face warmed despite herself. “Just shut up and drive, Dog Whisperer.”

“You got it, Spring.” He smirked, focusing back on the road.

Mika sighed dramatically and leaned into her seat, holding his phone a little closer. She scrolled further, quiet for a while as more photos of the puppies filled the screen. Suguru’s voice softened, slipping through the laughter.

“They’re still small, but they’ve already destroyed one couch and half my shoe collection. Totally worth it.” he says, while eyes on the road.

Mika glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “You sound proud.”

“Of course I am. They’re my family.” His grin widens mischievously, “Wait until you meet them. They’re going to love you.”

Her chest tightened unexpectedly, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the phone. “…We’ll see,” she murmured, though she could already imagine the little fluffballs tumbling over her shoes.

Suguru glanced at her again, catching the faintest smile tugging at her lips. The car rolled smoothly down the road, filled with warmth, laughter still lingering in the air, and the faint glow of husky puppies lighting up the screen in Mika’s hands.

⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆ ❄ ⋆

When they finally arrived at Suguru’s hometown, the moment he stepped out of the car, he didn’t even get the chance to stretch before being ambushed.

“Suguruuu~!” his mother cried, rushing over and practically throwing herself into his arms. She hugged him so tightly his knees bent, peppering his face with kisses one after another. “My sweet, sweet boy! Look at you! Have you been eating? Your cheeks look sunken! Do you even sleep at all?!”

Suguru flailed slightly, laughing awkwardly as he tried not to get smothered. “Uh—Mom, I’m okay, really. Still breathing, see?”

“Nonsense!” she scolded, cupping his face dramatically. “You look like you wrestled a curse barehanded on an empty stomach! Come inside right now! I’ll make your favorite tonkatsu, with the extra-crispy breading, just how you like it.”

Before he could respond, she grabbed his wrist and began dragging him toward the house with surprising strength.

“Wait, wait—Mom, hold on!” Suguru dug his heels into the ground, nearly stumbling. “I brought someone with me, like I said in the text. I brought a friend. Is that okay?”

His mother froze mid-drag and blinked. “A friend? Is it Satoru? Oh! Or maybe Shoko?”

“Nope,” he said, nodding toward the car. “It’s Mika. She transferred into the Tokyo Jujutsu Institute during midterm.”

Mika stepped forward, suitcase in hand, offering a polite smile. "Hello, good day ma'am. Nice to meet you", she said with a respectful bow.

Suguru’s mother stared for a heartbeat, her eyes widening as if she had stumbled upon buried treasure. Then she clapped her hands together, gasping. “Oh my goodness. What a beautiful girl! Look at that face! Are you a model? You must be a model. Suguru, why didn’t you tell me your new friend is Miss Universe?!”

Mika’s face turned red in an instant. “Ah—n-no, ma’am. I’m not a model. I’m just… Mackenzie Lia. But you can call me Mika.”

“Mika,” she repeated warmly, beaming at her. “Such a lovely name! You’re adorable! Come, come inside! You must be starving. Tell me, sweetheart, what do you like to eat?”

Mika hesitated, still flustered under the praise. “Uhm… I like tempura, but anything is really fine—”

“Nonsense!” Suguru’s mom declared, looping her arm through Mika’s without warning. “We’re having tempura! The proper kind, not that sad, soggy version from convenience stores!”

“W-wait—” Mika tried, but she was already being guided toward the house with the energy of a queen leading her guest of honor.

“Mom, what about the tonkatsu?” Suguru muttered weakly, standing abandoned beside the car. But neither of them heard him.

Mika’s laugh floated back from the doorway, light and unguarded, as Suguru’s mother fussed over her like she’d just have another daughter. Suguru sighed, staring at the trunk.

“…I wanted tonkatsu,” he mumbled, resigned.

He shut the trunk with a soft thud and grabbed their bags. By the time he stepped into the house, Mika was already seated at the kitchen counter with his mother bustling around her, pulling out ingredients and asking her questions rapid-fire.

“Do you like shrimp or vegetables better, Mika-chan? Oh! You have to try my sweet potato tempura—it melts in your mouth! Suguru, did you even tell her about it? No, of course you didn’t, you never brag about your mother’s cooking—”

Suguru barely had time to drop the bags by the stairs before his mother shoved a plate of sliced fruit into Mika’s hands.

“Eat this first while I look for more tempura Ingredients. You’re too thin. Suguru, why didn’t you feed her on the way here?!”

Suguru stared, deadpan. “Mom, she’s not a stray cat I picked up.”

Mika covered her mouth, trying not to laugh as she bit into the apple slice she’d been given.

His mother ignored him entirely, now setting out plates, chopping vegetables, and humming happily as she worked. Suguru leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. His mother had officially adopted Mika within five minutes, and he could already tell who the new favorite was.

“You look like a porcelain doll. A very pretty one!” his mother exclaimed warmly "Here, try this tea. It's good for cleansing" she added as her young maid she placed a delicate cup of tea in front of Mika. "There, thank you Lucy. You can go back to the kitchen now, and tell Aiko to prepare the Ingredients for breading." Lucy nodded politely and went out of the kitchen.

“Suguru, my baby, come sit here,” she called next, her voice carrying that motherly authority no one in the household dared to disobey. “I made tea for you too. And we have powdered doughnuts!”

Geto sighed in defeat but couldn’t hide the small grin tugging at his lips as he dropped down on the couch beside Mika. She sat there with quiet poise, sipping tea as though she had been part of the household for years.

“She’s really nice,” Mika whispered, her voice almost conspiratorial, though her smile betrayed how much she was enjoying herself.

“She is,” Geto agreed with a short nod. His eyes narrowed faintly in amusement. “Although she once tried to act scary. Absolute disaster. My dad still laughs about it.”

“Don’t bring that up, Suguru!” his mother snapped with a playful glare, though she was already busy arranging the plate of doughnuts.

Geto leaned over the table. “Where’s Papa?”

“In his study, finishing some papers,” his mother replied without missing a beat.

Then Geto lowered his voice, brimming with theatrical tragedy. “Ma… are we really not having tonkatsu?” His expression was so betrayed it bordered on pitiful, his hands pressed against his chest like his heart had just been torn apart.