Chapter Text
༺ 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞༻
The khaki uniform had a way of intimidating everyone, even the most formidable Korean. To some people, Megumi was a traitor to his homeland, they referred to him behind his back as 'The rebellious Korean, Traitor, The false Japanese.'
Although many Korean families would have loved to marry their daughters to him-despite the fact that behind his back they called him 'murderer' or 'traitor', no one could deny that a soldier, however ruthless, was still a desirable match.
Tsumiki sat outdoors on the ground, a large wooden bowl in front of her, to start her work of making kimchi. Quite a few women in the neighborhood were doing the same, but they quickly moved away when they saw a young colonel approaching, with his presence, intimidating, medals shining on the chest and his gaze always hostile. Those who were by chance closer moved further away while those at a distance faced elsewhere.
Her brother’s name escaped her lips involuntarily as she rose from the ground, her hands dirty and her forehead damp with sweat. Tsumiki always wore the same hanbok, her braid pulled back, and her face was dirtied from the hard work of a lower-class Korean woman in those days. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to talk to you. May I come in?"
Itadori stepped firmly behind Megumi. "You’re not going anywhere."
The young man with black hair remained stoic and didn’t even bother to turn around.
Frustrated, the pink-haired young boy walked over with a frown and positioned himself in front of his former best friend.
"What’s this about?" Itadori demanded, his voice brimming with suppressed anger. "Are you here to arrest us or just to flaunt your position?"
"I want to speak with my sister privately."
"Whatever you have to say, Yuji can hear it too."
He didn’t really mind saying it in front of Itadori, but he knew it would be a hassle, so before saying anything, he let out a heavy sigh.
"I came to tell you, Tsumiki, that you’re of marriageable age now, and there’s a soldier I’m sure you-"
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Itadori interrupted, his impatience barely contained, unable to believe what he was hearing "Answer me!"
"Yu-yuji!" Tsumiki interjected nervously.
"Get the hell out of here and don’t ever come back! We never want to see you again!"
Megumi glanced around and saw the neighbors listening in; most had already retreated into their homes. He could not allow these people to speak to him in such a manner, as it might lead others to believe that such disrespect would go unpunished. As a soldier, he understood all too well that maintaining authority was essential and should never be compromised. If they continued with their impudent attitude, he would not hesitate to take action against Itadori.
"She´s my sister not yours and if you keep shouting like that you will regret it, you will make me take Tsumiki by force and you won't be able to stop it."
"You think you have the right to say that she is your sister and come here to offer her a marriage? Fucking traitor..."
"I'm not offering it to her, it's an obligation, you know it's the best for her."
"I’m sorry," Tsumiki said, her fists clenched. "But I can’t accept this. I need you to leave."
"I won't do it until you understand, if I have to use force I will use it, or wasn't it clear last time?"
Itadori furrowed his brow, about to snap at him, when suddenly the door slid open with a loud creak, drawing the attention of all three. Megumi’s face tightened immediately.
Kugisaki didn't show an inkling of anger or joy, excitement or fury; she calmly stared at those traitorous eyes. The hammer in her hand was anything but a symbol of peace. Fushiguro cast his gaze away, feeling his shoulders lock up. A word didn't leave his lips-threats, a warning, or even a trace of hostility. He didn't move. She wasn't that one whom you would confront without facing her outbreaks or fury; she was the kind of careless woman who did not give a second thought to drawing in the entire neighborhood, just to make Megumi look like a useless and stupid soldier.
"Get out of here. I won't say it again," Nobara warned from where she stood.
It took him a couple of seconds, but he eventually turned on his heel and walked away, making no further protest.
The three remained silent until he left. Nobara slid the door shut and walked into the house, while Itadori watched her.
“Don’t you think you were a bit harsh with him?”
Yuji looked at her seriously. “You say that because you haven’t seen him torment Koreans or murder them... he’s no longer Korean, he’s no longer our friend or your brother, Tsumi.”
"But he-"
"He killed Choso to prove his loyalty. I will never forgive him for that."
She wanted to get home and rest for a while before continuing her chores, most especially collecting the drying laundry. But her feet automatically stopped as the sweet smell wafted up her nose. Before a shop window filled with colorful Japanese sweets, she stood still. The sweets, colorful in the most colorful of colors, available in all shapes: from cakes and bread to tarts and sticks of colored sweet rice. The tastes dotted the gamut of sweet to salty. This included sugar-drenched bread and egg tarts.
Utahime wished she could try them and experience their flavors, but she knew she could never afford such an expensive indulgence.
“Good morning, girl. How's your mom?" asked the shopkeeper, still smiling at her.
She bowed into the shop, saying, "Good morning, sir, she's doing better."
Just behind her, someone else came inside, and the shopkeeper, with his wide smile, said, "Welcome and good morning, Lieutenant."
The white-haired lieutenant walked past and stood two steps in front of her. He was an exceptionally tall soldier.
"Is there something special you'd like to get, miss?" he asked without turning around.
"Nothing" she replied, acting on what felt easiest at the moment.
"That's a shame" He murmured. "I am actually quite hungry."
He then moved forward a few steps towards the counter, determined to place an order with the shopkeeper.
Utahime turned on her heels and exited the shop. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but upon seeing that man, she felt an overwhelming urge to leave. It was as if she sensed that staying there would lead to something undesirable. As Utahime walked away as quickly as she could, she questioned her own reaction, unable to understand why she felt such a strong need to flee. All she knew was that she felt deeply uneasy around him and didn’t want to remain in that situation any longer.
Footsteps were heard behind her, and a voice called out to her.
"Miss!"
She didn’t want to stop, but his soft voice continued calling her in an unbearable manner. He caught up with her, persistently repeating, “Miss, miss, miss.”
"WHAT!?" she stopped abruptly, her eyes widening as she regretted her reaction. He was also taken aback, but as soon as he recovered, he smiled at her.
"I said 'hello'."
Gojo took her hand and gently pressed a tender kiss to its back, his aquamarine eyes shimmering with an unusual brilliance today. They held her gaze with a magnetic allure, an attraction deepened by the honey-brown warmth of Utahime's eyes. She had never felt the touch of a man before, nor had she ever been kissed. Inside, she felt as though a serene sea was suddenly stirred by crashing waves, a tempest of emotions surging through her.
She pulled her hand away and, with a nervous tone, asked ”What do you need, Lieutenant?" She attempted to say as he straightened up.
Gojo felt completely out of place. Usually, women would bat their eyelashes at him and raise the pitch of their voices to flirt, but there was Utahime Iori, staring at him like he was a piece of disgusting trash.
"I was just passing by and saw you, so I thought I might come over and say hello."
She looked at him in confusion; his words didn’t make sense to her. He was a soldier and shouldn’t be acting so friendly.
"Oh" he handed her a cloth bag containing a box full of sweets "hold this for a moment, I need to find something in my suit."
She took the bag, and they both began to walk as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his suit.
"You remember me, don’t you?" Gojo asked, noticing a hint of doubt on her face as he stopped searching "I helped you a few days ago."
"Yes, Lieutenant, I remember you. It’s just strange that you’re approaching me just to say hello."
"Is it so strange?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. She nodded, and he pondered this for a moment before replying "I don’t think so."
《It is》 both of them thought.
Gojo and Utahime stopped upon hearing the brutal sound of two soldiers beating an adult Korean man. They stared in that direction for what felt like an eternity, witnessing a deeply unpleasant scene while the inaction of those around them weighed heavily in the air. Utahime was overwhelmed by a surge of anger and helplessness at the sight of the man’s assault, feeling a sharp sense of injustice.
Simultaneously, a profound sadness and insecurity enveloped her, reflected in her face etched with pain. The man lay on the ground, shielding his head with both hands as he endured severe kicks to his vulnerable areas. His suffering was palpable, a painful reminder of the cruelty unfolding before their eyes.
Gojo glanced at the obsidian-haired woman from the side, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of her distress. He felt a strong urge to intervene, to stop the violence, but he knew better than to act impulsively; this was the harsh reality of their world. Instead, he decided to lead her away from the scene. He placed a hand gently on her back to guide her forward, but she recoiled from the slight touch, her unhappiness evident.
They walked in silence, with him contemplating how to start a conversation after such a distressing scene. But once the sounds of the man’s suffering faded into the distance, Utahime stopped and extended the bag to him, her brow furrowed.
"Here."
He gestured with his hand and winked. "I’m not hungry, you can keep it. It's a gift from me to you."
"I don’t want it."
"Tell me, Utahime, do you always respond like that?"
In disbelief, she thought《Did he really just say my name?》
She decided not to say anything, but her look was far from friendly.
He thought 《Does she actually hate me, or is this some weird Korean way of flirting?》
"I don’t understand. Are you upset?"
"No."
"Ah, because I don’t think I did anything to make you feel this way. I’m giving you this, and you can’t even say 'thank you'."
"Have you forgotten that you are a soldier who kills my compatriots and brutally assaults them, or merely stands by and does nothing?"
With a hint of bewilderment, he looked at her. "You-
"Good morning, Uta. G-good morning, Lieutenant Gojo" Amanai bowed.
"You’re the nurse,"he smiled at the opportunity that came to mind. If he left without the bag, it would be a victory for him.
"Do you remember me?"
"How could I forget the brave nurse who tolerated my cousin’s vomiting all night?"
"Do you two know each other?"
"No, I don’t know her" he replied quickly "I’ll leave you two alone. Have a good day~."
Satoru turned and walked away. Utahime opened her mouth to call him back and return his bag, but her stomach protested. Although she is a proud person, she could never refuse food." Utahime opened the bag to find two boxes filled with sweets she had never tasted before. Inevitably, the corners of her lips lifted, though she hadn’t meant for it to happen.
"Excuse me" A beautiful young woman with light eyes and sky-blue hair approached as she saw the soldier turn the corner. Amanai and Utahime looked in her direction. She was stunning, dressed in an elegant kimono. "What did that soldier say to you?"
"Nothing special" Utahime replied casually, unsure of what to say.
The woman’s gaze shifted to the bag in Utahime’s hand. Her eyes narrowed with disdain as she took in the sight of the sweets. "What’s that?"
"That… sweets?"
The woman’s face shifted from a serious expression to a feigned smile.
Gojo walked away, his thoughts lingering on the image of Utahime. Her hands were delicate and fragile, her hanbok hung loosely on her slender frame, making her appear very thin. The sight stirred a pang of sadness in him, making it difficult to smile.
Lately, Gojo had started noticing her everywhere. Since their first conversation, he had become more aware of her. So, when he saw her near her favorite candy shop, he was surprised to find her there, with her delicate frame and the dazzling aura she exuded.
Nanami approached, interrupting his thoughts.
"Who is she?" was the first question he asked.
"Who?"
"I saw her from the bakery. She's a beautiful brunette Korean. Do you know her name?"
"Her name?' he asked, feigning confusion as he furrowed his brow "I have no idea. I simply saw her and gave her some sweets."
"So you bought her sweets."
"What can I say? A cute girl is just a cute girl."
Even he didn’t know why he did it, but he felt good giving her the sweets. His heart, on its own, was both restless and happy. So, he simply chose to look ahead and smile.
Nanami remained thoughtful. "A face like that won’t last long here. It’s strange. Could she be a prostitute?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no. It’s not that interesting. There are more attractive women. Do you want me to ask Okkotsu to introduce you to someone?"
Nanami looked at him, surprised that he was shifting the focus away from the Korean girl, which amused him a bit. "No, I’m fine. Shall we patrol together?"
"Sure."
Utahime arrived home eager to share the sweets with everyone, although she wasn’t sure what excuse to give. She placed the bag on the table and noticed that her father was unusually early home, while her mother was busy folding laundry. Neither of them responded to her greeting; they were clearly upset, and understandably so. Utahime went straight to her room to put away the sweets, as the atmosphere in the house was far from welcoming.
The sound of her mother’s persistent coughing made her rush back to the living room. Rumiko continued to cough uncontrollably, her chest heaving with each spasm, her face turning an alarming shade of red. Her father sat unmoving, showing no sign of intervention.
"Dad, help me!" Utahime’s voice cracked with urgency and panic as her trembling hands tried to offer comfort to her mother.
"I can’t. She needs medicine" Kaito replied with cold indifference, shrugging his shoulders as if the severity of the situation were inconsequential. His response was a sharp blade, deepening Utahime's distress.
"W-what? Ask the neighbor!" Her voice rose in desperation as she moved swiftly toward the door, hoping against hope that her father might change his mind.
"We don’t have money for the medicine your mother needs!" Kaito shouted, his voice filled with frustration and resentment. The harshness of his words was a stark reminder of the crushing burden that Utahime now bore.
With tears streaming down her face, Utahime hurried to fetch a glass of water. Her steps were frantic and unsteady, the glass trembling in her hands as she tried to soothe her mother. The continued coughing only intensified her sense of helplessness. Every convulsion of Rumiko’s body seemed to compound Utahime's anguish, and her throat felt tight with the weight of her sorrow.
"Please' she pleaded, her voice a barely audible whisper, as she leaned over her mother, trying to offer some small comfort with the water.
"If you had accepted Mr. Naoya´s proposal, we wouldn’t be in this situation" her father reproached, his tone dripping with disdain, as if the entire calamity were her fault.
"Don’t you find this strange?" Utahime questioned, feeling the heavy weight of desperation and helplessness, her voice trembling as she looked at her father with a mix of anger and sadness "What if he takes me to Japan to sell me as a slave?"
"Don’t be foolish" Kaito criticized, his face hardening with frustration. "That man would have taken you by force instead of going through all this."
"None of this makes sense. How can you force me to marry that man?" she asked, her voice breaking with despair. "Even though the Japanese have killed our family!"
Kaito approached his daughter and grabbed her arm roughly. "We don’t have money for rice, not a single coin for the mortgage. Look at your mother. Don’t you understand that this is a sacrifice for a better life? How will we pay for her medicine? Do you want to see her perish? If anything happens, it will be your damn responsibility!"
Utahime felt herself breaking down, just like the tears that fell down her cheeks. Her words were stuck in her throat. She was experiencing a painful guilt, a heavy burden she would have to carry for the rest of her life.
She didn’t know how to respond to her father’s relentless accusations, which didn’t spill blood, but the bitterest and darkest guilt. Utahime had never considered this side of marriage. In her limited view on the subject, she had always thought she would marry the son of a fisherman or a butcher—an idea she had come to accept because it would allow her to help her family with food, as her acquaintances did. She never imagined that the wishes she made to the stars, hoping that her parents' burdens would disappear, would come true in such a horrific way.
༺ 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞༻