"I could have taught them better. I should have taught him better."

Utahime won't look at you, she can't even lift her eyes to meet yours floating in front of her. "All that teaching and I couldn't even teach Mechamaru to survive." Utahime spits that last word and it is a bitter one, dripping from lips that used to be yours.

Your distance was broken when the aftermath of Shibuya hit. Mei mei had ran, Gojo was sealed, and Kenjaku was running rampant. All of it had gotten to Utahime more than she'd like to admit and now she sat before you looking small.

Utahime acting in a way that was anything but fierce and loud was wrong.

"And here I am, sniveling and whining in front of you. Is that really all I am now? A useless sorcerer that cries? Tch." It's a stupid, stupid question and she finally lifts her head to meet your eyes.

Utahime is beating the tears down. Because she won't cry in front of you of all people, she just can't and doesn't want to. But she can feel her grip on her own strength loosening with the thought that everything's changing, everyone's dying, and she is simply the same Utahime Iori.