marcita

you hadn’t shed a single tear. not in public or in private. you wouldn’t grant them that satisfaction. but the exhaustion behind your polished poise had begun to eat at your spirit. every visit to the central court, every glance thrown your way as the “discarded empress,” every whisper about your supposed coldness had piled up into a weight that no amount of grace could lift.

what hurt more than the betrayal itself was the way ryusei looked at you now: aloof and distracted. as if you were an old treaty he was bound to, rather than the girl he had once sworn to love. you had been married six years. three of them under his crown. but you had grown up beside him, trained together, studied side by side. you had thought, naively, that your marriage was built on more than duty. still, you fulfilled your duties, perfect as ever. you oversaw winter court preparations, calmed the tensions among the nobility, and welcomed foreign dignitaries with the same regal smile you’d worn for years. even as whispers grew louder. even as misara began calling you “sister,” claiming that you now shared “the same husband.”

you wanted to scream. but you didn't. a single tearful girl with a soft voice had made your place in the world seem replaceable. if you started acting deliberately cruel, the criticism would fall on you, not her. of course not, after all, “she didn't know what she was doing.”

and in the midst of it all, the letters had started to arrive.

the letters were a breath of fresh air in the middle of all that chaos, you had never allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of anyone, it was not the right thing to do, the empire needed a strong empress made of steel. but between ink, paper and anonymity you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to be more human, even if it was with a stranger, one who seemed to understand your position despite revealing so little, those had been your only moments of peace lately.

you weren’t ready for the dove’s owner to show up in person. not yet or ever.

the dove’s owner, satoru gojo, second prince of the  western kingdom had arrived in the capital that morning under the pretense of attending the upcoming new year’s celebrations. no official delegation, no formal reception. he had arrived early, almost intentionally so, and had not made an effort to mask his reasoning. “i wanted to breathe before the pageantry begins,” he had said.

you had just returned from meeting the treasury council when shoko, your closest lady-in-waiting, entered your chambers with a faint smirk and a twinkle in her eyes.

“your majesty,” she said. “it seems the second prince of the western kingdom has arrived. without any traditional escort, no formal ceremony. just walked in like he owned the place.”

you blinked, pausing your steps.

“the second prince?” you echoed. “of the western kingdom? now?”

“he says he's here for the new year banquet,” shoko replied, shrugging, then she leaned close enough so that only you could hear her whisper. “ he's quite handsome and single, in case you'd like to cause some trouble.” your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks flushed at shoko's comment. more than just a lady-in-waiting, she had been your friend for years, so she realized the low mood you had been in for weeks. she had certainly been the first to suggest that you get a concubine more handsome than the emperor, but to suggest that this one be the prince of the neighboring kingdom... was scandalous. but that would only make it more interesting.

“he’s in the central courtyard,” she said. “and he asked specifically for you to greet him.”

you paused, brush hovering above your parchment.

“me?” you asked, too quickly. the western kingdom was nearly equal in size to your native empire, but in recent years, it had grown stronger, both militarily and economically. were they a threat to the empire? perhaps. which was why maintaining a good relationship with the next heir was essential. naturally, welcoming him was something you would do, though the fact that the request had been made specifically for you, and not the emperor, was... unusual.

either way, making him feel at ease was the priority. so, you took one last look in the mirror to ensure your appearance was flawless, then made your way to greet him.

prince satoru gojo was next in line to the throne of the western kingdom, he had a complicated reputation, but the rumors that stood out were those about how attractive he was. you thought they were exaggerated, after all people love to dramatize.

but clearly this was not the case, for the rumors didn't compare to the reality. he was even better in person.

dressed in a midnight blue coat with silver trimming and a baby blue sash tied loose at his hips, satoru gojo stood like a man who had never faced a single consequence in his life . tall, striking, his snow-white hair tousled like he’d just stepped out of wind. his eyes. those impossible, cerulean eyes landed on you the moment you entered, and his smile widened. and his smile?

his smile was the kind of thing you'd fight for. swinging between innocent and devilish, but utterly bewitching. “your majesty,” he greeted with a bow far too casual for a prince. “an honor to finally meet the famous empress of the eastern empire. you certainly are more gorgeous in person.”

you narrowed your eyes, heart hammering at his choice of words. but he only winked and kissed the back of your hand. you said nothing as you gestured for him to rise. he did so with a smile that was more playful that it should.

ryusei stood a few paces away, a stiff smile frozen on his face. his eyes flicked from you to the prince, then back again. satoru didn’t seem to notice the tension, or more likely, he simply didn’t care.

“i must say,” satoru added, “your palace is even more beautiful than the stories claim. though i doubt they do you justice.”

a breath caught in your throat. right in front of the emperor.

you felt the sharp gaze from your husband but ignored it. you tilted your head with a neutral smile. “prince satoru, i trust your journey was smooth?” 

“uneventful. but i’m hoping that changes.” he answered, his eyes did not leave your face even when he blinked. ryusei coughed falsely behind your back, clearly not used to being overlooked, let alone you being looked at the way the prince was. “prince satoru will be staying in the eastern wing,” he said coolly. “i trust the accommodations are to your liking.”

“i was told the empress herself oversaw them. if that’s true, i already know they’ll be perfect.”

you bit the inside of your cheek. this man was irredeemable, he wasn't even trying to be subtle and everyone in the place could tell.

gojo met you when he was barely in his twenties, already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders before you were even born. when he received the news that he had been assigned as your legal guardian, he complained all the way from tokyo to kyoto, muttering that he wasn't a babysitter, that he already had enough to do between missions and making sure the fushiguros didn't starve to death, asking if there wasn't anyone else available, but above all, why him? but when he saw you, alone in the hallway of that headquarters, wearing a uniform that was too big for you and with an expression that didn't ask for pity, only... that someone not leave you alone, his complaints stopped.

loneliness.

satoru understood loneliness very well.

he took you by the hand without asking your opinion or anyone else's, claiming that this was his idea.

“don't cry, i'm not as bad as those decrepit old men probably told you,” he said, even though you hadn't cried.

from then on, although you weren't officially his daughter, you shared many silly jokes, heavy training sessions, and moments that were too sentimental for satoru's taste. you always looked happy to see him, there was genuine admiration in your eyes, not 'cause he was the strongest wizard of modern times, but 'cause he had filled the empty seat at every parent-teacher meeting at school, no matter how busy he was, he had taken care of you, fed you, even trained you.

he was always there. 

first day of school? every year he drove you right to the school gate, no matter how much you said it wasn't necessary. first heartbreak? he brought you chocolates and threatened to throw a purple one at the person who broke your heart. your first mission to exorcise a curse? he finished a mission in record time to go and record and take photos of you fighting.

curses don't show up in photos, so it looked like you were fighting the air, but it was worth it, according to him.

that day in june, the tokyo jujutsu high campus was unusually quiet. you had been checking and rechecking the decoration and contents of a small baby blue cardboard box, the same one you had been carrying around since morning. you had decorated it yourself with markers, crooked stickers, and a crayon-drawn heart that read:

“happy father's day, satoru-sensei 💙”

now, for almost 30 minutes, you had been hiding near the threshold of the teachers' room, peeking out half your face, watching to see if he was alone, if he was busy, if... if it was worth interrupting.

satoru, of course, noticed you from the first glimpse. with his six eyes activated and a paternal sense sharper than any other sensor, he had sensed your presence. he made you wait. he pretended to be busy with a file he wasn't even really reading, listening to yaga discuss something with shoko, playing candy crush on his phone. but every time he felt your small presence peeking out and hiding, he couldn't help but smile.

until he finally decided to intervene, he knew you well enough to know that you needed a little push. so without warning, he teleported behind you.

“who are you hiding from now?” satoru whispered in your ear, mimicking the cautious position you were in.

“ah!” you jumped a little along with the scream, turning around with a red face and your heart pounding as if you had seen a special rank curse, the box almost slipping out of your hands from the shock. “i thought i raised you to be braver than that,” he said jokingly, crossing his arms. “are you spying on your sensei to learn a trick or two from me? or are you going to confess that you were the one who put a red sock in megumi’s white laundry?”

you didn't say anything, but you puffed out your cheeks, holding back a laugh as you remembered the prank on megumi. but once you remembered why you had come there, you lowered your gaze and offered him the box with both hands, trembling a little. what if he hated it? what if the cookies tasted gross? what if he made fun of you?

all kinds of questions flooded your mind, but there was no turning back now, so you decided to speak. “happy father's day, satoru-sensei.”

satoru blinked. once, twice, three times slowly, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. “huh?”

“i decorated everything myself. and... and i tried to make desserts, although i think they burned a little,” you said quickly, your voice getting a little shaky at the end. “just... thank you for... taking care of me, i guess. even though you didn't need to, even though you didn't have to take on the role of a father, you did, and... and you never left me alone.”

satoru took the box. he examined it carefully as if it were a sacred treasure or something—although he didn't even treat real sacred treasures with as much respect as this. there were irregularly shaped cookies, a brownie that looked like a brick but had his name spelled out in half-melted m&m's, and a small strawberry cupcake leaning at an angle, held up by divine will. but everything smelled sweet, not just because of the sugar, but because of the care you had put into it all.

and for a moment, he said nothing, not even one of his typical comments came off his lips. he just looked at the doodle you had made with markers of him and you.

“you... sappy brat...” he muttered with a crooked smile. then he bent down a little to be at your height, lifting his glasses so you could look him in the eyes. “you know what? you’re officially my favorite daughter now. sorry, megumi.”

you let out a soft laugh. “i won’t tell him, i promise.”

“good. i couldn't take another one of her death glares.” then, without another word, he hugged you. a big, rib-crushing hug. “thank you, really,” he said quietly, almost as if he were about to cry. “i haven't been the model father you should have, but i'm glad that... even so, you see me this way. as a father. that means more than you know.”

“you're the best i could ever have, ” you murmured.

“of course i am, there's no question about that, because i'm the strongest, ” he replied, breaking the sentimental moment with a chuckle.

later, you sat with him on the steps of the training ground, eating the poorly made desserts as the sun began to set. of course, before that, satoru took the time to show off to everyone that his daughter had given him a gift. he swallowed the brick-like brownie as if it were a gourmet treat and promised you that next time you two would bake together.

“are you my dad 'cause you're the strongest, or are you the strongest 'cause you're my dad?”