the sun and the sky | gojo satoru

expensive chocolate and black clothes

The ointment worked well.

As a child, when Hina got burned, she got burned. It scarred, and it stayed. Luckily, they were never really big or noticeable—they were easy to cover.

If only I had this back then, Hina thought, gently using a q-tip to rub the burn relief ointment onto her hand. It made her skin feel cool, like her hand was being soaked in cold water. It stung, yes, but the outcome would be worth it.

How weak she was. To be affected so dearly, by only a few burn marks that were less than minor.

Hina closed the lid, proceeding to re-wrap the bandage onto her hand. It was a struggle, trying to loop it nice and neatly around each finger. It was amazing, really, how Gojo did it so effortlessly. So easily. Her hand tingled at the memory of him at her apartment that night, bandaging her hand with the swiftness of his own.

In only a few days, she wouldn't need the bandage anymore. The burns would still need healing, but the bandages wouldn't be needed. She tried not to overexert her hand, since the burn marks still stung.

She could numb the pain if she wanted to. It was in her power. But she didn't. Hina didn't want to take it easy. There were thousands of other people in this world who could've put this technique to good use, anyone but Hina.

Plus, using her cursed technique to numb the pain would only fatigue her.

She was still weak.

Weak and restless.

Burning her right hand, the hand she wrote with, was quite the inconvenience. Trying to read a book to her students while also adding an action sequence with her hands was also a tiresome affair. Helping her students write katakana wire her out quite a bit.

Don't use it, don't use it, don't use it, she repeated to herself like a mantra. She would not give into her cursed technique.

"Hey Nakano," Shimizu was staring directly at her bandaged hand. "What happened to your hand?"

"Just some hot water, it wasn't a lot though," Hina shook her hand dismissively, smiling. "I'll be fine."

"Whaaat?" Shimizu stretched, frowning. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Hina nodded. "I'm fine. It doesn't sting much anymore."

Shimizu slumped back into her seat. "I would've honestly just used that as an excuse to take the day off. Your honesty and your commitment is scary, Nakano-chan."

She marked a paper, adding a smiley face to the assignment. "I try my best."

"That you definitely do." Shimizu sighed.

Soon later, Kikuchi asked her the same question.

"Your hand. Is . . Is it okay?"

He really did sound concerned. Hina would feel bad if she didn't answer as truthfully as she could. "It did sting quite a bit before, but it's getting better now."

"Oh," Kikuchi breathed. "That's good."

She smiled, which seemed to frazzle him.

"I-I mean, it's good that it's getting better . . !" He swallowed, and Hina only stared at him. He chuckled, "Not that it still hurts, of course . . and I hope it doesn't—!"

"Thank you for your concern, Kikuchi-san."

It was nice of him to care. Kikuchi really was a kind man. He deserved so much, and Hina would knew that for certain.

Imai's head peeked around the door. "Hey, Nakano! You have a visitor! It's blindfold dude!"

Hina hesitated for a moment, before grabbing her things and speeding out the door before she could even think (she bid Kikuchi goodbye of course, and felt incredibly guilty for not awaiting an answer). The sunlight from the sky hit her face, and she caught sight of the tall man outside, waiting for her.