Chapter 3
2009
It's a rare treat.
One of the Gojo ancestral homes is open.
It's golden week, Kodomo no hi. The laughter of children fills the largest garden. Sumptuous food and decadent desserts are on display. The decorations are whimsical and effortlessly complement the spring blossoms.
It's an idyllic scene, but chicanery is still afoot.
Satoru-san surreptitiously enters from a winding path; in this quarter, the vegetation is thick and wild, at odds with the carefully manicured lawns that dominate the landscape. Adorned in an altered silk Houmongi kimono, in the silver, grays, blues, and blacks, her clan favors, pearls bejewel her silver hair, and carnation kanzashi decorate her low bun. Two little girls hold her hands, dressed in their respective silk furisode.
They stop on the premise, and Satoru-san queries, "What do you see?"
"Fun!" Tsumiki chirps.
"It does look fun; I call dibs on the chocolate-covered strawberries," Satoru-san declares.
Tsumiki giggles, "You're so silly, Satoru-san; that's for everyone."
"But it's my house," their guardian says childishly.
Megumi ignores their banter; she understands what Satoru-san asks. Her mentor challenges her and demands she think outside the box, that the answer she seeks is never quite right or wrong, only that she has the facts and can make a decision based on them.
What does Megumi see?
She sees children belonging to the four vassal families that have served the Gojo for centuries. She sees the politics of adults mirrored in the play of children. The lines drawn in the sand, the allies, the possible matches, she sees-
"So you see," Satoru-san gently tugs on her arm; Megumi looks up and sees her dark reflection in Satoru-san's shades. "You don't have to worry about what it means, not now, but you should be aware."
How can she not be self-conscious? Who does she avoid? Who does she speak to? She is-
"Think of this as practice; when you're older, this will matter, but now you're a kid. You can enjoy yourself, make blunders, play, and have fun. No one will judge you," Satoru-san assures her.
Megumi is skeptical, Megumi is reticent, and Megumi decides to trust the devil she knows and nods.
Tsumiki peers around Satoru-san, "C'mon Megumi, let's get cake!"
"Un."
They enter the madding crowd, their hands knotted through Satoru-san's.
---
2010
Every six months or so, the devil calls a ceasefire and wants to dine.
Satoru appears mid-stride, mischief curling her lips, hair flowing wildly behind her, and a spark of chaos in her eyes.
"Ready?"
Shoko nods.
Satoru holds out her hand, and she places hers in it.
Shoko is enveloped in Satoru's technique. It is electric, channeling over the skin, a faint buzz in her ears. It fades, and she is surrounded amber, ambient and sweet.
They take one step, and the world collapses around them and forms on the next.
She is greeted with a familiar face, a sight for old eyes. The ache that never quite died in the wake of betrayal pulses and bleeds anew.
He looks exhausted, he's aged, he's thin, but he smiles that familiar vulpine grin.
"You look like shit," Satoru says without preamble.
Suguru sighs, "Hi, Shoko."
"Hey, Suguru."
"Did that last donation run out? I can incriminate another official; kill two birds with one stone." Satoru looks over shoulder, "Who said that? Shoko, did you hear anything?"
"Nothing but the wind," She quips.
Suguru laughs, and it's like old times.
"Where are we going?"
"Vietnam was a hit, so I thought we'd try the northern region this time."
"You just want to show off," Shoko teases.
"Of course!" Satoru says without shame. "Let's make a day of it."
"I'm ready; I need an escape from reality."
There are many things she wants to say to that, but there is an agreement, a silent understanding. So, she lives in these moments and tries to ignore the weight of the future.
One day, Satoru will kill Suguru; however, today is not that day.
This is their Switzerland.
Sometimes, the devil calls a ceasefire and wants to dine.
Even Lucifer becomes lonely.