Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

JUNE 2012

Satoru has barely been outside for long enough, but the fatigue of his endless journey with no concrete goal in mind currently weighs on him like a stack of dumbbells.

When he ran away from home, it seemed like a great idea at the time. Now, he wouldn’t go as far as to say he has regrets, but he definitely wishes he had thought it through a bit more. His legs hurt like crazy, and he is circling around the idea of just calling it quits and heading home while simultaneously hoping to the gods his dad doesn’t kill him.

But if he is being honest, it wasn’t necessarily his fault either, with how suffocating that house was. Everything was so boring and scheduled and he just wanted to have some sense of freedom. So, he planned his much needed escape.

Everything would have gone smoothly if he actually knew anywhere in Kyoto, but he doesn’t. He’s as new to these streets as a new born baby is to the world—perfectly primed and ready to dwell in a state of confusion until they learn from experience.

 But he can’t possibly quit now. He’s come too damn far—put in too much conviction to just go home now. He has no choice but to keep walking if not for anything else, but at the very least, to prolong the inevitability of being found by his handlers just a little bit longer.

Dragging his feet along the street, he’s bombarded by sounds he isn’t used to being around, overlapping voices from people walking together—some friendly, others, heated. He feels like a stranger in no mans land.

Trying his best to ignore the noises, he makes a turn on the corner of the next street and comes across what seems like an arcade. It dawns on him that he never gets to go to any of those types of places and only ever sees them on commercials or on the tv whenever he was lucky enough to watch anything. Plus, his parents never let him within an inch of a place like this.

He decides if he was going to be dragged home anyway and never be allowed out again, he might as well seize his final moments of freedom and do things he never got to do.

He goes into the arcade and is immediately overwhelmed.

The noises coming from the various machines, the chants of groups of students hunching over and cheering or booing their opponents across the machines. The pungent smell emanating from old men who most likely spent a large amount of their free time here wasting away. He is instantly repulsed by all of it.

He searches around for any free space or machines far away from all this mess. He’s already come too far to back out now.

While his eyes scan the area for what he’s looking for, in the sea of all the commotion stood a bright pink-haired kid all by himself at a car racing machine who looked way too young and out of place. He’s sure that’s all kinds of illegal.

 Satoru has the mind to just ignore him like he does everyone else, but he also wants to try out a machine for himself and the kid looks like the least repulsive thing in the entire place.

He proceeds with caution towards where he is, to find any available machines beside him. He eventually finds one just opposite him and realizes right away….

He has no idea how to play it.

Satoru likes to pride himself on the belief that anything was possible if he truly tried. He just has a natural talent for things. Yet, in this moment, he feels utterly directionless.

The buttons aren’t exactly complicated, but he also isn’t sure what exactly this game requires of him. It seems like some sort of musical instrument but at the same time feels like a puzzle. He deduces he isn’t a fan. At least the car racing game looks less complicated than this, but all the racing machines were occupied.

He looks beside him and finds the pink haired boy sigh in defeat for what seemed like eternity.

Satoru peeks and notices that he has lost the game again and has seemingly run out of game tickets to keep playing.

What follows is the contortion of his little face, a clear sign that he’s on the verge of tears. He’s obviously trying his hardest not to cry, and when Satoru listens closer, he hears the boy repeating to himself, “Remember, you’re a big boy. Big boys don’t cry.”

And as if on cue, he starts subbing quietly, drawing attention towards them.

That’s the last thing Satoru needs. Drawing attention to the fact that they’re just two underage boys in an arcade with no adult supervision is not on his agenda. So, he walks over to the boy, tickets in hand, hoping to quiet him down.

Satoru stretches out his hand in a half-hearted attempt to placate him. As expected, the boy quiets down a little, though his tear-streaked, snotty face still stares back in confusion, as if he doesn’t understand what Satoru is trying to do.

Satoru speaks first. “If I give you some of my tickets, will you shut up and stop crying?”

The boy’s honey-colored eyes widen as his tears suddenly stop. He blinks at Satoru before finally responding, “Whoa, but then you won’t have any to play with.”

Satoru wonders if the boy didn’t catch the part where he said “some” and not all, but he decides to let it go.

“It’s fine. I don’t feel like playing anyway,” Satoru replies, waving it off.

The boy glances at the machine Satoru had just walked away from and immediately bursts into giggles.

“Are you sure it isn’t because you can’t play the music game. It’s okay, I suck at those too. I usually suck at arcade games, but I like playing them because it’s so much fun. I usually play them with my grandpa, but I lost him so now it doesn’t seem so fun to me anymore.”

Satoru notices he’s rambling. He lost him? He wonders, but he waves off the thought.

He shouldn’t and doesn’t care anyway. He responds to get him to stop rambling.

“Actually, I like car racing games, I just can’t find any free machines, so I ended up at the music one.”

The younger boy lights up immediately after and says “Oh then you can use mine! I am okay with it. I ‘ve been playing for so long now.” He ponders for a while before he continues speaking. “I don’t know how long though, because I don’t have a watch or a phone, but If you want to play you can use mine, I don’t mind.”

Satoru indulges him. For one, he is sure he can figure out the car racing game faster and get to finally play a game here and get the kid to shut up and not cry anymore.

He tries the first game, but he runs off the track. He attempts again and his car keeps running off the track and failing. He’s getting irritated but the boy beside him just keeps giggling and having fun at his expense.

Satoru doesn’t mind, for now. At least he no longer looks like a sad abandoned bag of potatoes.

After what seemed like forever, he finally wins one match.

“Yayyy, I knew you could do it.”  The boy is jumping up and down and patting his back like they’ve known each other forever. Like they didn’t just meet an hour ago. 

Satoru secretly smiles about it.

To no one’s surprise, the pink haired boy’s incessant prattling and fanfare draws the attention of one of the workers who starts questioning their lack of guardianship.

Without thinking, Satoru grabs the hand of the younger boy and runs out of the arcade.

They run for a while before he feels like they are far enough.

Panting beside him the boy speaks up. “Why are we running away nii-chan.”

Nii-chan?! Who is he talking to?

“I’m not your nii-chan, so don’t call me that.”

The younger boy frowns and says, “But I don’t know your name, so I don’t know what else to call you.”

Satoru isn’t too keen on letting that information slip. He’s been trained his whole life to be careful who he talks to and shares personal info with. But for some reason he finds himself letting his guard down a bit with this boy.

“You can call me Gojo, my name is Gojo.”

“Just Gojo? Anyway, nice to meet you, my name is Itadori Yuji, Gojo nii-chan.”

Still with the nii-chan, he thinks. But he ponders on the boy’s name instead. Itadori Yuji, what an oddly fitting name.

At that moment, a grumbling sound is heard around them. It doesn’t take long for them to realize the sound is coming from the younger boy.

He is probably hungry, and so is Satoru right now too.

When Satoru snuck out from home, he had only grabbed enough money from his piggy bank he felt could last for at least a day before he was eventually found. But here he is now with someone else to look out for. He isn’t sure how much anything cost. Food for one is one thing, but food for two is an entirely different thing.

“I’m hungry Gojo nii-chan.” He says nonchalantly, so innocent in his desires.

But Satoru has no clue where to get food from. He isn’t sure how to say that without wounding his own pride.

“I saw a food stand on the street before the arcade nii-chan. I think we can buy some food over there.”

Satoru is silently thankful he doesn’t have to admit to not knowing directions, but he’s also amazed at the kid going off about food when he probably can’t even pay for it.

“You sound pretty confident about buying food for someone without any money,” Satoru remarks, raising an eyebrow.

Itadori gasps, almost offended. “I do have money! Grandpa always gives me a little allowance every month. He says I need to know how to take care of myself even when he’s not around.”

“You said you lost your grandpa. Is he… dead or something?” Satoru asks, his tone blunt.

“Dead?! No, he isn’t!” Itadori exclaims, looking horrified. “I just meant I lost him before coming to the arcade. We were at a store, and he told me not to leave, but I… I saw an ice cream truck and ran after it. I only wanted a scoop, but by the time I caught up to it, I forgot my way back.”

Bubbly, friendly, naïve, and a complete idiot. Satoru sums him up in an instant.

“Well, for now, let’s go grab something to eat. We’ll worry about finding your grandpa after that,” Satoru says with a shrug.

Itadori nods enthusiastically, and the two head back toward the arcade to find a food stall. As they walk, Satoru suddenly feels a small hand slip into his own. He looks down, startled.

“I just don’t want to lose sight of you,” Itadori says softly, glancing up with wide eyes. “I’m scared I’ll get lost again, like I did with my grandpa.”

Satoru blinks, unsure what to say, but doesn’t pull his hand away.

They come across several other stands, not just one like Itadori had mentioned. It was like a market with a variety of foods to choose from.

This time it’s Satoru’s turn to have his stomach grumble.

Itadori looks at him and a laugh erupts out of him.

“I was worried I was the only one hungry nii-chan, but now I don’t feel so bad for dragging you along.” He says with such levity and joy to his words.

Satoru turns his head to avoid his bright gaze. A small blush slowly creeps up his cheeks.

“Anyway, you can pick what you want to eat, and I’d pay for it.”

Itadori doesn’t hesitate to run through the stalls picking different foods from savory to sweet, to spicy. Satoru is baffled at his wide range of tastes.

Though, Satoru soon realizes he overestimated how much he had with him. He heavily doubts his ability to cover the cost of everything.

Almost like he can hear what he is thinking, Itadori steps in.

“It’s okay nii-chan. like I said, I have some money too, so we can add our money together and pay for everything. We can share our food.”

Satoru hesitates at first, but figures he wasn’t going to take no for an answer and agrees with him.

After they are done, they find a small park to sit and eat.

While they are eating, Satoru glances at Itadori, noticing he has sauce all over his mouth, and his cheeks were both puffed from stuffing his mouth full.

Satoru smiles. For a fleeting moment, he considers how cute the boy looks, a thought that catches him off guard. He’s so lost in his own musings that he doesn’t even notice Itadori talking to him.

“—hello” Itadori waves in front of his face snapping Satoru back to reality.

“Did you say something?” he replies and secretly hopes he didn’t catch him staring.

“Yes, Gojo nii-chan. I was saying how come you are alone. Do you also have no parents like me?”

Satoru is taken aback by the revelation. The boy suddenly looks so small and fragile to him that his heart almost aches at the thought of him having no parents. Satoru wouldn’t dare classify his own parents as models of excellent guardianship. His father is more of a dictator than anything else, and his mother pays so little attention to him that, at times, it feels like he doesn’t exist at all. But they are all he’s ever known. The idea of life without them, a complete void of their presence settles over him like a quiet, suffocating loneliness.

As if sensing the weight of Satoru’s thoughts, Itadori flashes him the brightest smile. “It’s okay, nii-chan. I never met my parents. Grandpa says they died shortly after I was born, so I don’t know if I miss them, since I never knew them. Of course, it’s sad they’re gone, but I have my grandpa! He’s like my mother and father at the same time. Isn’t that so cool, nii-chan?”

He says it with such unshakable cheerfulness that Satoru can’t help but stare, bewildered.

How can he be so joyful? Satoru wonders.

Lost, sitting with a strange boy by his side, not knowing if he’ll find his grandpa, having no parents, how can he still smile like that? And why does his happiness make him want to stay here a little longer? Maybe just long enough to forget the loneliness of his own world.

“Hey, how old are you Itadori?” Satoru is curious now, he wants to know more

He wants to see him smile more

He wants to stay just a little more

“I am nine years old. What about you nii-chan?”

“Me? I am twelve years old.”

“Whoa I would have never guessed; your hair is so white I thought you were old.”

Satoru giggles, his giggles fill the air and soon turn into a full fit of laughter. Itadori stares at him in awe and soon joins him in laughing too.  They keep laughing together. Just two kids in a park with too much food than they know what to do with, forgetting their respective troubles and indulging in silly jokes.

When their laughs die down, they continue talking about everything and nothing. Satoru tells him about running from home, about how he got tired of being home and how rigid everything seemed. He did not go too deep into his family dynamics. He is not ready to let out those cans of worms yet, he isn’t sure how to. Itadori seemingly invested in what Satoru has to say, soaking up every information even though he does not understand it all. Satoru finds it endearing. He has never felt this listened to before. At home, everything was set up for him. When he woke up, when he went to school, even his entertainment hours were dictated for him. He doesn’t have any friends outside of his daily routine. It all feels entirely empty.

But here right now, he gets to talk about things he never had a chance to. It feels nice, heartwarming even. At some point, Satoru asks Itadori about his own home life out of curiosity. As if to take the attention off himself for a bit.

Itadori tells him about his grandpa, he mentions little about his parents because his grandpa doesn’t like talking about them. He talks about other mundane things, his favorite food,though ultimately, he likes to think he’s not a picky eater. Just simple facts that Satoru listens to quietly.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but the brightness of the sun has dwindled down, and he remembers he has to find a way to help Itadori find his grandpa and the only way he can do that is by doing the one thing he’s been dreading all day....calling home.

He lets the younger know he is going to help him find his grandpa and that makes him very happy. They go to a store across the park to ask the store owner for a phone so Satoru can call home. After he is successful with that, only the wait remains.

Waiting creates a silence they each haven’t been granted since they met. The atmosphere of their dynamic has changed a bit, but that makes Satoru scared in some ways. There is a chance he is never going to see Itadori again. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does.

Up until now, the idea of having friends had never crossed his mind. Not that he is inherently opposed to it, but he never has the chance to make any. His parents never encourage it either. They have him focused on things that can only lead him to taking care of the family business when he gets older, and to them, friendship isn’t one of those things.

But spending the last few hours with Itadori has been reverting. Like a cool breeze on a scorching summer day, refreshing and unexpected. It terrifies him how much he doesn’t want to let go.

When his handlers arrive, they waste no time grabbing Satoru, entirely dismissing Itadori’s presence as if he doesn’t exist. Satoru plants his feet firmly, refusing to get into the car.

“I’ll go,” he says, his voice calm but firm, “but only if you agree to help me find his grandpa.” That’s his only condition. His handlers exchange glances before reluctantly agreeing.

Soon, both boys sit at the back in the sleek, polished car. Itadori, wide-eyed and endlessly curious, marvels at the interior. Everything looks shiny and new to him, like a treasure box come to life. Satoru watches him with a soft smile, his chest warm with something he can’t quite name.

He doesn’t want this to end.

It doesn’t take long for them to find the store Itadori had described. Satoru and his handlers lead him inside, up to the receptionist, who immediately recognizes Itadori from the description his grandpa had left with them before heading out to search for him.

The receptionist makes a quick phone call, and Satoru assumes it’s to his grandpa. Moments later, in record time, an old man comes rushing toward them.

Before Satoru can fully process what’s happening, the man strides straight to Itadori and smacks him lightly on the head. Satoru feels a protective instinct flare up, ready to intervene, but stops when the old man pulls Itadori into a tight hug.

“You insolent brat! I told you not to leave the store!” the man scolds, his voice sharp but lacking any real bite. Satoru picks up on the concern hidden in the tone.

Ah, this must be his grandpa, Satoru thinks.

Itadori doesn’t say anything in response, but he hugs the old man even tighter. Satoru watches them for a while, something heavy settling in his chest. A pang of jealousy flickers through him. He’s never experienced this kind of worry from his own parents. Would they be worried about him when he gets back home? Would they hold him like this, even though he ran away? Would their care for him ever outweigh their anger at him for breaking their rules?

Lost in thought, Satoru looks away, unsure of what the answer might be.

He chooses not to dwell on it any longer and turns making his way to the exit to get in the car.

Before he reaches the door, he feels a pair of small arms around his waist.

He barely has time to react before the now familiar voice speaks up. “Thank you so much Gojo nii-chan. For finding my grandpa, for feeding me and… for becoming my friend.

Satoru’s eyes widen at the utterance of the last word.

Friend

Is that what they are now?

Could he really let himself have that?

He lets out a quiet breath, choosing not to think too deeply about it. Instead, he resigns himself to the moment and accepts the embrace, placing his hands gently over the boy’s. They stay like that for a while, an unspoken warmth passing between them, before Satoru slowly loosens his grip.

“I have to go now,” he says softly, keeping his voice steady, though the weight in his chest lingers.

They exchange their final goodbyes, and Satoru steps into the car, watching as Itadori waves at him from the store. As the car pulls away, Satoru leans back into his seat, a single thought echoing in his mind.

He really hopes he gets to see him again.

Chapter Text

Getting home is nerve wracking for Satoru. He feels jittery, his heart rate is through the roof because he’s not sure what kind of backlash he is going to get from his father.

Seiki Gojo is a man many in the clan revered, for better or worse. He is rigid and distant as a leader but even more so as a father.

He and Satoru have never seen eye to eye. Whereas his father believes connections to people, especially those he deemed as lesser than him, are worthless, Satoru never quite saw it that way. At least not entirely. He has never had those connections himself, but he always felt like something in his life was missing. If his father was so sure he needed nothing to fill up those spaces, then why does Satoru feel so hollow all the time?

When the car finally comes to a halt inside the family estate, Satoru takes a deep breath before the door is opened for him by one of the handlers.

He takes small, calculated steps towards the main house. Prolonging every moment before confrontation.

He casts his mind back to the afternoon.

Easy smiles, warm hands, delicious food…. A friend…

Satoru finds himself relaxing

He goes through the front door and unsurprisingly finds his father waiting at the entrance for his return.

Without saying a word to Satoru his father orders all the handlers who were on duty to leave the house and terminates all their contracts. Satoru attempts to speak up in their defense, but his father beats him to it.

“I am sure you know you won’t be leaving this house for the foreseeable future. I will hire new handlers, and you will be put on stricter supervision.” He turns around and leaves Satoru behind without as much as a chance to explain why he left in the first place.

Satoru looks to his side and finds his mother just standing there.

Not a word uttered, not a look shared. She just walks away, like she always does.

Satoru is all alone, again.

He sighs and makes his way upstairs to his room. Of course, he knew the repercussions of what his earlier escape would mean. He thought the price would be worth it in the end. But back then he never knew he would meet him.

He never knew that he would find himself wanting to run away again, just for one more moment.

Now he’s not sure he will ever see him again. He doesn’t have any information on him aside from his name. Not a number, nor an address.

Only a name

He lays in bed staring at the ceiling.

He whispers to himself, almost like a silent prayer, scared that he might forget it with time.

“Itadori Yuji.”

August 2012

True to his father’s words, Satoru was not permitted to go anywhere without a chaperone which means he hasn’t seen Itadori since the last time they parted.

He doesn’t know how and where he would see him again even if he tried. He supposes it was just wishful thinking that praying about it would suddenly provide him with direct access to Itadori.

His mother’s birthday is coming up tomorrow. It will be the first time since he was officially grounded that he would be doing anything outside of school obligations.

There isn’t much of a ceremony to birthdays in their household. He won’t call it a particularly happy tradition, but they do make public appearances once in a while for the sake of their family and clans reputation. Putting on the perfect act of the close-knit family, knowing they are anything but.

Usually, Satoru has little care for any of it. But this time will be different. This time he has a plan.

He has been on his best behavior ever since his last escape, doing as he was told, being respectful. He even made sure to thank his handlers for keeping him safe. All this is because he wants to be the one to pick the location for the birthday dinner.

Precisely, a restaurant just by the store he had last seen Itadori.

The only way he can possibly contact him will be by securing his grandpa’s number from the store clerk who had made the call to him when he was helping Itadori locate him.

It’s a shot in the dark at best, at worst, the clerk doesn’t even work there anymore. But it will be worth a shot— it has to be.

Satoru’s father comes back from work just in time for them to prepare to leave. He had successfully convinced him that morning about the restaurant. Thankfully, his father has no idea the handlers had dropped him off around that area, nor did he care to ask who he was with prior to firing them all.

Few hours later they are in the car on their way to the restaurant.

Satoru’s father speaks up. “Your teacher reported you came top of your class again. This is what you should keep focusing on. Anything else you try to indulge in will only distract you from achieving high grades and taking over the family business.”

Satoru seemingly paying him no mind gazes out through the window.

All he ever talks about is school-work this, family business that. Satoru is sick of it to the point of not being angry anymore. He holds no expectations from his father. It will simply always be business as usual.

They finally arrive at the restaurant and Satoru is the first one out. Unbeknownst to anyone else, he has a mission today that he plans on executing with perfection. It’s perhaps the only chance he’d get and he’s not keen on letting more time pass before he can contact him again.

The restaurant is quiet—too quiet. No clinking of silverware from nearby tables, no hum of distant conversations. Just the three of them, sitting beneath the dim chandelier light, their reflections caught in the freshly polished glasses. His father reserved the entire place, as always. A grand gesture for his mother’s birthday, though she never seems to care.

She sits across from him, back straight, eyes lowered, hands folded neatly in her lap. The candlelight softens her face, but she might as well be a painting—beautiful, untouchable, lifeless. His father, on the other hand, is as rigid as ever, slicing into his steak with sharp precision.

“Eat the food Satoru,” his father orders.

Satoru obeys, not because he’s hungry, but because it’s easier that way. He’s used to this now. The controlled silence. The way his father dominates every space, every breath. But his mother—she’s a different kind of mystery. She isn’t mean, not like his father can be, but she is… absent. Even sitting right in front of him, she feels a world away.

A part of him wants to ask.

Why are you always like this? Why are we like this?

The words press against his tongue, heavy and uncertain. Does he even want to know? What if she gives him an answer he can’t handle?

He lowers his gaze, tightening his grip on his fork. No, not now. There are more important things tonight.

Like the number he has to collect.

He has spent the last two months thinking about that boy—the one who made him feel, for the first time, like escape was possible. He had run away then, if only for a short while, and in that time, he had met someone who looked at him like a person, not an extension of his father’s rules. Someone with no idea the weight of responsibilities that have been thrust on him from the moment he was born.

They had made no promises to each other. And honestly maybe this is just a case of Satoru clinging on to false hope. Maybe he is the only one who holds onto that memory like a lifeline, but he has to know. He has to find him to know if he also feels the same way. If he feels like he also wants Satoru in his life. 

The store clerk has the number. That is his mission.

His father will never know. His mother won’t care.

“Isn’t this nice?” his father says suddenly, as if his voice alone can make it true.

His mother nods, a ghost of a smile appearing and vanishing just as quickly.

Satoru doesn’t answer. He only chews, swallows, choosing to stay focused on why he’s really here. 

“I need to use the toilet.” Satoru speaks up, finally making his move.

They have no reason to distrust him right now. Not after being on his best behaviour this long and so he’s allowed to excuse himself.

He goes out back to the toilet, but makes a sharp turn through the exit at the back instead. The store is only a minute away he’d be gone and back in no time.

He dashes across the street into the store. Who he finds isn’t the same woman who was on duty that day, he almost dismays but approaches the lady there to ask anyway.

“Hello, excuse me, but I want to ask about a number to contact someone. I left something with them about two months ago but I haven’t been able to reach back out to them to get it back. I was wondering if I could get the number from your colleague.”

The clerk raises an eyebrow. Satoru has to know he’s out of his depth already. A random twelve year old boy asking about a number from a store clerk has to be all sorts of red flags raised, but he maintains eye contact. Not wanting to show any wavering in his confidence.

“Who are you asking about exactly?”

Satoru gulps, realising he doesn’t know his grandpa’s first name. “ I only have a last name, Itadori…. Mr. Itadori.”

“Ah Itadori-San, old-grumpy, rough around the edges with a grandson?” Then the clerk goes still, catching herself in her uncut description of the old man.

Satoru laughs a bit, because he doesn’t know the man yet, but from what he has seen and heard, it does seem to fit.

“Yes, him. I just need his number so I can contact him directly.”

The clerk hesitates. But Satoru gives his best puppy face expression and then she relents.

Apparently, he’s a frequent visitor of their store and they have a decent relationship with him, so she decides to give him the number, trusting that no actual harm would come from it.

Satoru is estatic. He’s finally one step closer to getting in touch with Itadori again.

He quickly thanks the clerk and makes a run back to the restaurant, before his parents—particularly his father, gets suspicious.

The immediate change in his mood on arriving back in the restaurant is apparent to anyone with eyes. Satoru feels like he’s back in a cage. The air slowly sucked out of the room and his head heavy.

Thankfully his father is done eating, which means everyone must be done eating as well. But that’s okay. He got what he wanted already and couldn’t care less about the food right now.

“We are leaving, clean after yourself and meet us in the car.”

“It’s fine, I am done eating anyway. We can leave now.” Satoru responds. Eager to be back in his room, eager to make the call.

On getting back, Satoru makes haste back to his room. He doesn’t spare either of his parents any lingering glances. His mind too occupied to care about anything else.

When he’s upstairs, he shuts his door and goes to his desk to get his phone out. He never has much use for it since he has no one to call. Most of his contacts are his family members and people connected to his father who he’s been told would be of great help to him sometime in the future.

He pulls the slip of paper with the number on it. Unfolding it with care like it might disappear if he’s too hasty.

The numbers scrawled in black ink slightly smudged at the edges. He runs his thumb over them, reading them over and over, as if he could memorize them just by touch.

He punches in the number and presses the call button, with a little hesitation and shaky breaths. He has been looking forward to this for so long, but what if he’s changed his number? What if he doesn’t let him talk to Itadori? What if Itadori doesn’t care?

It rings once.

Twice.

Three times.

Before he can let any of these worries settle long enough to rattle him, someone on the other side of the line picks up.

But what he hears isn’t a greeting or acknowledgement of him being on the line.

“Yuji!!! I’ve told you several times to stop playing with that ugly doll. How did you even get it back from the top shelf?”

Ah, without a doubt it has to be his Itadori Yuji. Satoru lets out a quiet laugh which gets his grandpa’s attention.

“Hello, who is speaking?”

“Hello…uh sir…it’s me.”

“Who the hell is me?”

Oh right, Satoru realizes he never stated his name.

He exhales “um…. I’m the kid who was with your grandson at the store about two months ago.”

The grandpa hums, as if trying to place his voice before he finally recalls. “Oh right, the kid with the white hair and weird eyes.” Satoru chooses not to take any offense to the latter part.

“Yeah, I guess. Um, I’m calling because…. I’m calling to…. Maybe to se—”

“Listen kid, I don’t have much time right now so you have to speak up and fast so I can understand you.”

Satoru panics and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Yuji!” He pauses before he gains more confidence to say what he really wants. “I wanted to know if I could speak to your grandson.”

“Calling to speak to him about what? From what I gathered, that was the first time you ever met right?”

“Yes!” He shouts. “I mean, yes it was.”

 Satoru wants to be honest. He wants to tell him how this has been the only thing on his mind for the last two months. He wants to shout about how ridiculous he’s being right now, hanging onto this like a saving grace. He wants to tell him how something had changed in him since that very encounter. But he also doesn’t want to come off too strong. So, he decides to go with a simple truth instead.

“I just… I just wanted to talk to him again. If that’s okay.”

The line crackles again before his grandpa speaks.

“I see. Well, I’m sorry kid, but we don’t exactly live in Kyoto. We live in Sendai. So, I’m not sure how lucrative a conversation between you two would be. I was only there on business last time we were there.

Satoru blinks. “Oh”

He grips the phone a little tighter. He hadn’t considered that. He just assumed—hoped—they were still nearby, that maybe he could see him again. But now, the distance between them stretches wider than expected.

For a second, he doesn’t know what to say. He could be right. What use would it be forming a friendship when they were miles away?

Yuji’s grandpa doesn’t fill the silence. He just waits, as if giving him a moment to take it in, to decide.

And still…he wants to talk to him.

Even with the distance. Even if nothing comes of it.

“I still want to talk to him,” he says finally. His voice is quieter than he intends, but steady. Honest. “If that’s okay”

His grandpa hums again, thoughtful. Then: “Alright. I’m stepping out now, but I don’t necessarily need my phone with me, so I’d give it to Yuji. You can speak to him while I am gone, keep him company until I am back.”

Satoru lights up, his heart starts racing a bit. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“Yuji! Come here, there’s someone on the phone for you.”

There’s a shuffle, then the distant sound of hurried footsteps. A little breathless, a bright voice finally comes through.

“Hello?”

Satoru grips the phone. Now that he’s actually here—on the other end of the line—he suddenly feels stupid for calling. But it’s too late to hang up now.

“Hey” He pauses and then—

Itadori is confused but curious. “Uh…sorry who’s this?”

Satoru leaves his desk and goes to his bed. He shifts on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He clears his throat. “It’s Gojo. From that day, two months ago.”

There’s silence, and then a rush of warmth.

“Gojo nii-chan?! No way!”

Satoru blinks, not expecting that kind of reaction.

“Is it really you Gojo nii-chan?!” He says, more excited than Satoru thinks he needs to be.

He giggles and relaxes. He was so worried over nothing, of course he’d be just like this, as he had been that day. “Yes, it’s really me snot nosed brat.”

Itadori scoffs before he retorts. “Hey! I don’t have a snot nose today.”

Satoru laughs and speaks. “The fact you say today tells me there’s a high chance that wasn’t a one-time thing.”  

“Anyway. I thought I’d never hear from you again! How did you get my grandpa’s number?”

Satoru exhales, trying to keep his voice steady. Don’t sound eager. Play it cool.

“Went back to the store. The clerk had it.”

Itadori lets out a surprised sound, amazed. “You tracked it down? That’s crazy.”

Satoru mumbles under his breath. “Not really.”

The boy laughs before responding. “No, it totally is crazy. I mean, but  that’s kinda awesome!”

A silence falls between them. Satoru turns on his side, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

“So, what made you call?”

Satoru hesitates. He should say something casual. Make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?

He responds. Quietly. “I…wanted to talk to you again.”

There’s another pause before Itadori replies softly but full of warmth. “That makes me really happy, Gojo nii-chan.”

Satoru exhales sharply. Why does he say stuff like that? Just like that so easily like he’s breathing, without thinking.

Satoru mutters, “Tch, don’t make it sound weird.”

Itadori laughs. “I’m not!”

Satoru turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling again. This boy….

“Oh, by the way do you live in Kyoto, or you ran away from another city that day?”

Satoru hesitates. Finally acknowledging the physical distance between them, but admitting it somehow makes it worse.

“…Yes, I live in Kyoto. It’s a lot of kilometers away from where you live. Too far.”

Itadori pauses, as if he hadn’t considered that either. “Oh…yeah, I guess that makes sense. Me and my grandpa were just passing through back then.”

Satoru doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t like the way that sounds—just passing through. Like Itadori had just walked into his life by chance, and now he was supposed to let it go.

But—

Itadori responds cheerfully again. “That’s okay! We can still talk on the phone. Though I don’t have a phone of my own, I am sure my grandpa wouldn’t mind letting us talk from time to time.”

Satoru blinks. That’s it? Just like that?

“You wanna keep talking?” Satoru asks.

“Yes of course.” Itadori responds without hesitation. “I’m glad you called y’know. I thought about you a lot since that day, but I didn’t know how we could see each other again, so I am really glad you found me.”

Satoru feels his ears heat up. He turns onto his stomach, half burying his face in his pillow.”

He grumblingly responds. “You’re too easygoing.”

Itadori responds laughing, “and you’re kind of shy.”

Satoru retorts sharply. “I’m not shy…I’m just not used to this…friendship I mean. I’ve never done it before.”

“Me neither Gojo nii-chan.”

Satoru is taken aback, finding that hard to believe, but somehow his heart feels lighter.

“You can call me by my first name you know, I won’t mind.” Satoru replies shyly.

“Hmm, but you never told me what it was nii-chan.”

Oh, right.

“It’s Satoru, Satoru Gojo.”

“Satoru nii-chan. Pretty. I like it. You can call me Yuji then” Satoru freezes.

This boy….

He tests his name against his tongue, letting it roll off with ease. “Yuji…”

“Yes nii-chan?”

“Nothing, just testing how it feels.” A blush painting his cheeks. “You don’t have to call me nii-chan y’know. Just Satoru is fine. We are friends now, right?” he asks timidly

“Yes, we are nii-chan…. Sorry I mean, Satoru..he hee.”

He’s so goofy, Satoru thinks he’s just so adorable.

The conversation flows so easily after that, that Satoru almost forgets where he is. Yuji talks about school, how he got into trouble for eating too many snacks before bed and got chased around by his grandpa. Satoru listens, throwing a few sarcastic remarks here and there, but he mostly enjoys it. It’s nice. No pressure, no expectations. Just talking.

Then in the background, a door opens. It’s Yuji’s grandpa over the phone. “Are you boys still talking. It’s already late Yuji, time to go to bed.”

“But Grandpa….”

“No buts Yuji, hang up and go brush your teeth after all that sweet milk tea.”

Yuji sighs, downcast, then lowers his voice like he’s trying to buy a few extra seconds. “I have to go nii—I mean Satoru. I think it’s going to take a while for me to get used to it.

Satoru presses his lips together. He doesn’t want this to end. It’s the first time in a while that he actually wants to keep talking. But still, he knows it’s late.

He exhales.

“That’s okay Yuji, your grandpa is right, it’s getting late. Go brush your teeth and we’d talk again.”

Yuji replies, softly, sounding hesitant. “You promise?”

Satoru stares at the ceiling. He’s never really made promises before, at least not ones that mattered. But right now, with Yuji waiting at the other end of the line, it feels like the easiest thing in the world.

Satoru clears his throat and responds quietly but with certainty. “Promise.”

Yuji exhales like that’s all he needed to hear. “Okay, goodnight, Satoru.”

Satoru feels his face warm. He shifts rolling onto his side.

“Yeah goodnight, Yuji.”

The line clicks off.

Satoru stays there for a while, still holding tight to the phone, listening to the quiet hum of nothing.

Eventually he puts the phone down and crawls under his blankets. He notices the darkness of the room and the familiar silence—but tonight, it doesn’t feel as heavy as usual.

He closes his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, sleep comes easily.

Chapter Text

Waking up the next morning is euphoric for Satoru. Everything feels lighter that for a moment, he forgets he’s supposed to get ready for school.

He’s quickly knocked out his trance when one of his handlers knocks on his door informing him of breakfast being prepped.

Satoru groans and squeezes his eyes shut, perhaps to wish himself somewhere else—to pretend that he was with someone else right now.

Going to school is easy now for Satoru. He is pleased because now his evenings will have something special to look forward to. The thought of getting the chance to talk to Yuji again is enough for him to ignore how utterly boring everything else is.

After school Satoru is forced to take etiquette classes, after which he is tutored on the family business and then his piano lessons after. All of which he finds tedious. Although he would admit that piano isn’t entirely awful, he just tends to dislike a lot of his tutors because they are under his father’s influence.

During dinner, Satoru’s mind is somewhere else while his father goes on a long-winded tale of stuffy old men and company feuds, none of which are of any particular interest to him. He’s just counting down the time until he’s finally dismissed to his room to do his homework.

When he’s finally dismissed, he’s quick to pay his respects as haphazardly as possible and sprints upstairs, almost tripping.

Getting to his room, he quietly clicks the door shut and runs to his bed.

He shouldn’t be this nervous, they already spoke, they are already friends, but still—he is.

He hasn’t been this exhilarated about anything in his life. He isn’t too sure why he feels this way. He’s just talking to someone. What is so special about that?

The question keeps eluding him.

But he has no answers for it, at least not for now.

He dials Yuji’s grandpa’s number once more. Gathering his confidence for the call.

The phone rings. Once

Twice

Three times

No answer.

Satoru calls again, but no answer.

He gets scared.  A strange knot tightening in his chest. Did he maybe imagine it? Maybe he did, and he’s been getting all excited for nothing. He checks his call log from yesterday and sees the number.

“We definitely talked, it definitely happened.” He murmurs to himself. Unsure.

He’s just about ready to give up and turn in for the night when—the phone rings.

He fumbles picking it up. “…Hello?”

“Hey kid, I just saw your calls, sorry we were clearing up the kitchen after dinner. Yuji’s been nagging me all day about the call, so hopefully now I can be at peace for the rest of the night.”

Satoru secretly smiles. Relief washing over him.

“He’s here now, so I am going to hand him the phone, hold on, and be sure to keep it short, he does have to go to bed.”

“Okay, thank you, I will.”

There’s a brief rustling on the other end, a muffled voice going, “Wait really?! He really did call again?” followed by hurried footsteps. Then—

“Satoru!” Yuji’s voice comes through, breathless but excited. “Sorry I was brushing my teeth, we just cleaned up after dinner!”

Satoru exhales, laying down on his back on the bed. “You should’ve been waiting for my call.”

Yuji answers shyly. “I wasn’t sure if you would call.

“I promised you, didn’t I? If I make a promise, I keep it because I don’t make them often.”

Silence passes between them before Yuji responds. “I know that now. I was hoping you would call, so I am glad you did. I will make sure to remember all your promises I promise!”

Satoru stays quiet for a moment. He feels something unfamiliar settle in his chest—something warm. He quickly shakes it off.

“You know, you should be lucky I called, not everyone gets to talk to me like this”

Yuji gasps dramatically. Oh. I’m special?”

Satoru clicks his tongue. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

They both laugh, and the conversation flows easily from there. Yuji talks about his day, his classes, a weird looking dog he saw on his way home. Satoru listens, throwing in a comment here and there, though mostly, he just enjoys listening to Yuji talk.

Then Yuji suddenly asks, “What about you Satoru? What did you do today?”

Satoru hesitates. He wasn’t expecting the question.

What did he do? Studied, trained, sat through yet another dull dinner with his parents, avoiding hid mother’s distant gaze and his father’s sharp one. Nothing worth talking about.

“Not much,” he says shortly.

Yuji hums. “Do you have a favorite part of your day?”

Satoru furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Like, the best thing that happened today,” Yuji explains. “Even if it’s small.”

Satoru opens his mouth, ready to say nothing, but—his grip tightens on his phone.

“…This call, I guess,” he mumbles.

Yuji goes quiet for a second. Then—

“Really?” His voice is softer now.

 Satoru groans. “Forget I said anything.”

The younger boy giggles. “No way! You actually like talking to me.”

“Shut up.” This makes Yuji laugh even harder, and despite himself, Satoru smiles.

Then Yuji’s grandpa calls from the background, “Yuji, time for bed you brat. You have school tomorrow.

This causes the younger boy to groan. “Oh man, already?”

“Yup” his grandpa says firmly. Yuji sighs dramatically. “Ugh, being a kid is the worst.”

Satoru snickers. “Tell me about it.”

“Grandpa, can’t I get my own phone, pleassseeeeeee.” He pleads like his life depends on it, putting on his best innocent voice.

“You are far too young to have a phone, let alone just to have two contacts on it.”

Yuji gasps. “What?? I know way more than two people grandpa.”

His grandpa humours him. “Oh really? Who else?”

“Ummm, the grandpa down the street that sells fruits, the newspaper vendor, the milkman, the—” Yuji is cut off before he can continue.

“Those aren’t friends Yuji, those are just people you know, all grown adults who have no time for children’s games.”

Yuji lets out a little whine, and Satoru laughs about it secretly. Realizing only then that maybe Yuji truly is just as lonely as him. That maybe he needs this just as much as him.

“But Satoru has one.” Satoru smirks. “Well, I’m older.”

Yuji grumbles. “That’s not fair.” He tries again. “Okay, what if I get one when I’m ten?” He says, with a glimmer of hope in his voice.

His grandpa hums. “Twelve.”

“Twelve??! That’s too far away!”

Satoru decides to reassure him. “It’s not that far away. Before you know it, three years would be gone in a flash.”

Yuji, easy as rain, takes his word for it. “Fine, twelve. But you better still be calling me by then.”

Satoru pauses, thinking of this possibly still lasting that far into the future. He allows himself to embrace them still being friends for that long and hums after a while. “…Yeah… I will.”

Yuji’s grandpa calls for him again.

“Alright I gotta go,” Yuji says. “Goodnight, until we speak again Satoru.”

“…. Night Yuji.”

The line clicks and Satoru holds his phone to his chest. He curls under his blankets and falls asleep with a smile of satisfaction.

The days begin to blur into weeks. Then months.

The calls become routine. A secret thread woven into their lives. Satoru’s parents still none the wiser. He made sure to adhere to all the rules, all the limitations. Never complaining, never showing a change in his demeanor, or countenance. Trying not to draw any suspicions to his late-night calls. His safe space.

September 2012

Satoru lounges on his bed, twirling his fingers around the edge of his pillow. “What kind of kid drinks coffee?”

Yuji gasps. “It wasn’t coffee coffee! It was coffee milk!”

“Still weird.”

“You’re weird,” Yuji huffs. “You probably drink, like, rich people tea or something.”

Satoru smirks. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Yuji groans. “Ugh, of course you do.”

 “But I’d rather have a milkshake to be honest.” They laugh, and Satoru stretches, feeling a little lighter than before.

October 2012

“Satoru, can I have your home address?”

Satoru is sitting at his desk this time. “Address? Why?”

“Hmm…well if I want to run away from home, I’d have somewhere to go.” Yuji replies.

Satoru shrinks into his chair. Thinking about how his home is the last place Yuji would ever want to be. How Satoru would rather run away from here and go live with Yuji and his grandpa. Away from the riches and rules. But he chooses not to say anything. Chooses not to ruin the mood.

“Okay, but only if you give me yours too.”

“Deal.”

A week later, A letter arrives for Satoru, hand delivered by one of his handlers. He sees it’s addressed to him, with the name ‘Yuji’ written at the bottom. He quickly snatches the letter and hides it in his backpack. Scared his father might see it. He silently thanks the handler and maintains a straight face. Making a silent promise to himself to read its contents later.

Later after all his duties had been attended to, it was just Satoru alone in his room, ready to read the letter.

He opens it but finds a paper with a drawing instead and a small note attached.

Hello Satoru! They told us to make a drawing of our family in class today, but there was only me and my grandpa, I didn’t want my paper to be too lonely, so I included you in it too, I hope you like it. I think I might be forgetting what your face looks like, I’m sorry :(

Satoru notices the very not so subtle bright blue coloring of what he assumes is supposed to be his eyes, his wavy white hair. Yuji drew him smiling. This was far from the Satoru’s image. Everything was a mess—but still—he finds it all so endearing. His heart is full.

He folds the note and the drawing and puts it in one of his notebooks. Smiling to himself at how ridiculous Yuji is.

He writes to Yuji. Nothing complicated. He had thought about what to say back in response. They hadn’t spoken on the phone in a couple of days now because Satoru unfortunately had exams coming up.

The letter arrives a couple of days later at Yuji’s house.

Yuji calls him, Satoru makes some time out to speak to him, even if just for a few moments.

“Hello hello, Satoru, I got your letter.” ‘P.s I am still cooler than you’ “No you are not!” He retorts.

Satoru smiles. “Whatever gets you through the night Yuji.”

November 2012

Satoru is sprawled across his desk, flipping through Yuji’s latest letter. It’s full of doodles, jokes, and a long-winded story about how Yuji tried to befriend a stray cat.

He scoffs, but his lips twitch into a smile. He would be lying if he said these letters, no matter how random and weird they are didn’t make his day most times.

He now has a small box dedicated to his little letters and doodles. Somewhere he can look at them all at once. A place only he knows about.

He hears footsteps outside his door and quickly shoves the box closed and underneath his bed.

The door opens and at the entrance stands his mother. She stares at him, looking unsure of what she wants to say.

Satoru decides to be the one to break the ice. “Did you need something mother.”

Her mind finally catches up to her and she speaks. “Uh…no…I thought I heard a sound…I was only checking that everything was okay.”

Satoru isn’t sure what exactly she’s referring to but has no time to engage in meaningless conversations. He dismisses her concerns immediately. Denying any noise in his room. “Nothing happened, I was just preparing for bed.”

She pauses before relenting and nodding her head. She quietly retreats and shuts his door.

Satoru sighs. He never knows what to say to her. He switches off his lights and heads to bed.

December 6th, 2012

Winter is setting in. It usually would be Satoru’s least favorite time of the year. But there’s something different this time. A feeling of happiness that he welcomes.          

Satoru is lying in bed, secretly hoping Yuji will call tonight, when his phone buzzes.

Yuji: Satoru!!!

Satoru: …Why are you yelling?

Yuji: Cause its almost midnight!

Satoru: And?

Yuji: And it’s your birthday! Duh!

Satoru rolls onto his side, smirking. “You act like it’s your birthday.”

Yuji huffs. “Well, it’s not everyday your best friend in the world turns thirteen!”

Satoru pauses. His hands tighten around the phone. “…Best friend?”

“Well, you are my only friend, but you are the very best one Satoru.” Yuji says, sounding like it’s the truest and easiest thing he’s ever said.

Satoru stares at the ceiling, his smirk faltering. His chest feels weird again—too warm, too full—but he shrugs it off.

They don’t speak for a while, just taking each other’s presence, measuring each other’s breaths. It finally hits midnight, and Yuji screams happy birthday at the top of his lungs. His grandpa starts yelling at him, something about regretting letting him stay up that late just to tell him happy birthday.

They talk for a couple more minutes, before they bid each other goodnight.

Later in the day, Satoru receives a package, addressed from Yuji. He was not expecting to receive anything from him, so he was very excited.

He opens it and finds a bracelet and a birthday card.

“Dear Satoru, I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday since you have everything already. So, I decided to make this friendship bracelet. I also made one for myself which I am wearing right now. Happy birthday, I am very happy we are friends, Yuji. P.s I think my spelling is getting better yay.

Satoru smiles. His handwriting is still sloppy as ever, but he can’t help but appreciate it even more.

Not many people make a big deal out of his birthday, not even his own family. He’s used to it just being another day.

But Yuji—someone who’s not even with him physically—cares enough to make it feel special for him all those miles away. His throat feels tight. He doesn’t usually like to dwell on their physical distance, but moments like this remind him how painful it is to not be able to see him and thank him in person.

 There isn’t much he can do about it now. But someday, when he’s a little older, he’ll make sure to close that distance.

He takes the bracelet out and puts it on. It’s a perfect fit.

The day after his birthday he makes sure to call to thank Yuji for the gift. Yuji excitedly asks how he liked it and Satoru in his usual aloof way refuses to admit he loved the friendship bracelet and keeps dodging questions about whether he’s wearing it or not (he totally still is).

Yuji is used to him by now, used to all the antics that make him Satoru and so he easily laughs it off.

They talk some more. Satoru asks Yuji about his own birthday and how he usually celebrates. What kind of presents he likes. They don’t reach a definite answer of Yuji’s favorite thing to have, but Satoru makes a mental note to write down every option he mentions.

Late December

“You caught a cold again?” I told you not to play too long in the snow Yuji.”  Satoru says, sounding frustrated but clearly littered with hints of worry.

“I know, but I just love snow so much I couldn’t resist.” He sounds stuffy and starts sneezing mid-sentence.”

Satoru smiles reminiscing on the first day they met. “Well looks like you will always be a snot nosed brat.”

“Stop it Satoru! It’s just this one time. I haven’t had a stuffy nose in months.”

“Hmm, doesn’t change the facts. Still a snot nosed brat.” At this Yuji whines and complains about the nickname and tries to get Satoru to apologize but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing for the holidays? Cause me and Grandpa might be coming to Kyoto this year, maybe we could meet again Satoru. I’d be do happy if we could!” Yuji states excitedly.

Satoru knows the answer to this question, he knows it’s impossible for them to meet. Not right now, not with his father always watching him like a hawk. He hates to disappoint Yuji and so he lies instead. Not ready to explain the truth.

“I’m sorry Yuji. My family and I are traveling to Tokyo to spend it with the extended family, so I won’t be in Kyoto.” It kills him, but he lets out the lie as naturally as possible.

“Oh man, that sucks. I hope one day we can finally see each other again.”

“I promise you, we will. It might be a little while before it happens, but I’d make sure of it.”

This he’s sure of. This he knows he will guarantee happens, no matter how long it takes.

The holidays end and January bleeds into February. The idea of meeting up slowly fades from Yuji’s mind. Satoru is thankful for it. How does he explain his restrictions, how does he explain the rules of his father, the duties that lay on his shoulder from his clan. How does he explain that his father will think less of Yuji? Think that he is a waste of time. He can’t ever make Yuji feel less than he is. This friendship means a lot to him. So, if keeping it a secret from both sides is what he can do, then so be it.

March finally rolls around. Yuji’s birthday is all that’s on Satoru’s mind. He’s been trying to decide on what to get him. He’s caught between making it a meaningful gift and getting him something expensive. He maybe be restricted, but his parents always made sure he was aware of how wealthy they were.

Yuji never seemed like the type to care about his wealth. Satoru isn’t sure Yuji is aware of how rich he is, but he’s glad it’s hardly ever a topic of conversation.

The week before Yuji’s birthday he settles for two things. A letter and a signed baseball mitt from one of Yuji’s all time favorite players. It’s nothing big, in his mind he could give him the world if he asked. But he wanted to get something he could keep forever.

March 20th 2013

Satoru is lying on his bed idly spinning a pen between his fingers, when his phone buzzes beside him. He glances at the screen and immediately straightens up.

Yuji is calling

He smirks to himself. Took him long enough.

Just as he reaches for his phone, he hears a knock at the door. Not just any kind of knock. A firm, deliberate one, which only meant one thing.

It was his father.

Before he could react, Seiki Gojo pushes the door open. Satoru quickly flips his phone over, face-down on the bed.

His father steps inside self-imposing, almost intimidating, his gaze scanning the room like he’s searching for something to criticize. “You’re awfully quiet in here.” He speaks. His voice was always measured, always controlled, like everything he said was a test Satoru had to pass. “Studying?”

Satoru shrugs, leaning back on his elbows, gaze avoiding his father’s. “Something like that.”

His father doesn’t look convinced. He steps forward. For a moment, Satoru is worried he can hear the incessant buzzing of his phone. But instead of reaching for it, he picks up a book by the side of Satoru’s bed. Then without looking up he says, “come downstairs, your mother and I have something to discuss with you.”

Satoru tenses up. Not sure what this is about, but he recognizes there is no room for discussion here and follows his father out of the room.

When they get downstairs, he sees his mother sitting on the couch in the living room. Posture perfect as always. She barely acknowledges their arrival when they enter. Her gaze, distant. His father motions for him to sit down.

Satoru doesn’t let his irritation show as he lowers himself into the chair across from them. “So, what is this about?”

“Your mother brought to my attention that you’ve been spending some unhealthy amount of time on your phone, especially at nights.”

Shit shit shit.

“Have I?”

“Don’t play coy with me Satoru. Your mother had heard you. Unless you are suggesting she’s a liar.”

Satoru shifts his gaze to her. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t confirm or deny it, but the way she watches him—he knows she’s been paying attention.

He forces a light scoff. “If I was talking on the phone, so what?”

“You are not a child, Satoru. You don’t get to waste time on idle chatter when you have responsibilities. His father’s voice firm and cold. “Who have you been speaking to?”

Satoru leans back slightly, crossing his arms. “No one important.” He tries not to give away his emotions when he says that.

His father doesn’t look convinced. “Then you won’t mind handing me your phone.”

“Now.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command, and Satoru knew better than to argue. He sighs and makes his way upstairs at a normal pace, steps controlled, to retrieve the phone from his bed.

The moment he reaches his room, he grabs his phone, quickly rejecting Yuji’s incoming call before slipping it in his pocket.

When he returns, he hands the phone over to his father. “Go ahead.”

His father unlocks it, brows furrowing as his scrolls through the recent call log and finds nothing.

Satoru had always been careful to delete his calls right before going to bed. After a few moments, his father’s gaze flickers to him. “Why erase them?”

Satoru shrugs. “Because it’s my business and no one else’s.”

It’s ballsy of him to say but he felt a new sense of confidence rush through him knowing his father won’t get what he wants out of him.

His father’s expression hardens, but Satoru meets his glare with an almost practiced ease. He relents. “It’s really nothing. I was just calling one of my classmates from school because he’s better at math than I am. I didn’t want to have to admit that so I cleared all the calls whenever we were done speaking.”

A blatant lie, but a believable one. His father values academics, and Satoru has made a habit of downplaying his strengths in subjects he finds boring.

His father studies him for a long time.

Then exhales. Tossing the phone back to Satoru. “Keep your priorities in check. Theirs is no reason why you should seek council on schoolwork from anybody else.”

Satoru catches the phone easily, forcing a smirk. “I always keep my priorities in check.”

His father doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he nods once and stands up to leave.

His mother stands swiftly after him, also on her way out. But before Satoru could also make his way back upstairs, he hears very softly from his mother. “I’m sorry.” He turns to look at her, but she’s already gone.

He goes back upstairs and quietly shuts his door behind him.

Now that he knows his father is onto him, things might have to change. The frequency of their conversations might be affected. But for tonight, just this one night he has to make an exception. He cannot go to bed without wishing Yuji a happy birthday.

He grabs his phone again, without hesitation, he calls back.

It rings twice before Yuji picks up, his voice groggy but still excited. “Satoru?”  

Satoru smiles slightly, leaning against his pillow. “Were you sleeping already before I could even call back? O ye of little faith Yuji.”

Yuji huffs. “It is late, I almost gave up after the fifth missed call.”

Satoru’s heart clenches. He hates that he had to make him wait, hates he made him feel for one second, he wouldn’t pick up his calls at the drop of a hat.

He attempts to distract Yuji from asking any more questions. “So did you like your gift?”

Yuji brightens up immediately. “I loved it! I already made grandpa play catch with me! I especially loved the letter. Even though I don’t understand all the fancy words you used. But I think it means I’m the best so I’m going with that.” He says, voice full of mirth.

He continues talking about what else he did in the day.

Satoru listens, letting Yuji’s voice fill the space between them. The warmth of it makes the lingering tension from earlier fade away.

His father may have almost caught on.

His mother gave him away but then apologized for reasons unknown to him.

But right now, in this moment, none of that matters.

He looks at the time, it was almost midnight, before Yuji could say anymore, Satoru interrupts him. “Happy birthday Yuji.” He utters softly. It’s simple, maybe it does not capture everything Satoru wants to say, but he knows Yuji understands. If anybody understands it will always be Yuji.

“Thank you, Satoru, for everything.”  He replies, just as soft.

Satoru hums. The words caught in his throat, but he wants him to know in just one word everything he means. “Always.”

Nothing else matters to him. Just this is enough.

Chapter Text

March 2015

Standing in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie, Satoru easily notices the subtle changes time has carved into his face.

 His jawline is sharper now, his cheekbones more defined. The last traces of baby fat have nearly disappeared, leaving behind features that look older, more mature. He even gets stubble sometimes—annoying, stubborn patches that he has to remember to shave.

 And then there’s his height. He’s gotten so tall that his old bed no longer fit him properly. He had to get a new one, not that it makes sleeping any easier.

He tugs at the knot of his tie, making sure it sits perfectly against his collar when a knock sounds at his door. Probably his handler, letting him know it’s time for school.

Some things change.

But a lot of things don’t. 

His monotonous routine. 

His strained family dynamic.

And most importantly, Yuji.

It has been two years and some months since their friendship began, and somehow, they’ve kept it going strong. Even with the distance. Even with all the hurdles.

Of course, ever since his parents started getting suspicious of his late-night calls, they had to tone things down. That had been a difficult conversation—Yuji had been upset when Satoru told him they’d have to limit their calls to once a month. But Satoru had come up with a convincing enough excuse to keep him from asking too many questions.

It wasn’t an easy decision. But it was one he had to make.

 Most of their communication now happens through letters. And Satoru has a lot to say.

It kills him sometimes, not being able to just randomly call Yuji to hear his voice, to listen to him ramble about his day, to hear him laugh. Those moments had been some of the best parts of his day.

But they made it work. They are making it work.

And right now, Satoru is more excited than he’s been in a long time—because he has the perfect surprise for Yuji.

Yuji’s twelfth birthday is coming up, which means he’s finally getting his own phone. But Satoru has a better idea.

It had taken some effort to convince Wasuke, but in the end, he got what he wanted.

He’s going to be the one to give Yuji the phone himself.

And for the first time in nearly three years—

He’s going to see him in person. 

Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how Satoru feels. It’s been nearly three years since that fateful June evening they parted, and sometimes—if not for the occasional photos they send with their letters—he worries they’ll forget what the other even looks like.

But soon, he won’t have to wonder. He won’t have to rely on old pictures or fading memories.

He’ll see him. Be with him.

He’ll feel Yuji’s warmth, and hear that laugh in person. Even if just for a little while.

 Satoru planned everything perfectly. His parents are leaving for Tokyo this weekend to oversee the opening of a new family business. His father, ever the perfectionist, would never allow him to miss school, so that leaves Satoru alone at home. He’s old enough now for his father to trust him to take care of himself.

 That’s his window.

 He hasn’t called Yuji this month, saving it for his birthday. And since Yuji’s birthday falls on a weekend, he has the perfect excuse to be gone. A whole weekend with Yuji—no letters, no rushed phone calls, just time. He’ll make it back before his parents return.

 That’s the plan. That’s all that’s on his mind—until a knock at his door pulls him out of his thoughts.

 He’s about to call out, assuming it’s his handler reminding him it’s time for school, when the door opens.

 His mother steps in.

 Satoru may have lied about things staying the same.

 Some things did, but his mother has been acting… different lately.

More like for the past month.

 Like now—standing in his doorway, holding a neatly packed lunch. She doesn’t say much. Just walks in, places it on his desk, and turns to leave. But just before she steps out, she hesitates.

“Have a good day at school today.”

Her voice is quiet, almost unnatural. Satoru watches her go, feeling something tighten in his chest.

He wants to ask. Why now? Why the sudden shift? Why try to be a mother now, after all these years?

But the words don’t come, and she’s gone before he can stop her.

This game of cat and mouse between them—her pushing him away, then pulling him back in—it’s exhausting. It’s infuriating. He never knows where he stands with her. One moment, she feels like a ghost in his life, the next moment, she’s watching him like she cares. He doesn’t know which version of her is real.

 And he hates it.

 It’s the opposite of how Yuji makes him feel.

 Yuji is the most straightforward person Satoru has ever known. He never leaves him second-guessing, never makes him feel complicated about their friendship. He doesn’t use Satoru. He doesn’t treat him like an obligation.

Yuji makes him feel like a home.

That’s why Satoru cherishes him. It’s why this weekend means everything to him. 

Shaking off his thoughts, he grabs his backpack and heads out.

High school is a different pace, though Satoru still finds himself detached from it. He doesn’t hate his classmates, but they don’t interest him either. And as if puberty wasn’t irritating enough, his height and sharper features have only drawn more attention.

He hears the whispers, the girls fawning over him, the constant talk about his looks, his potential to be a playboy. It’s exhausting.

Talking to Yuji about it yielded no meaningful advice.

“Maybe they just want to be friends with you, Satoru,” he’d say, all sincere and naive.

Satoru could only shake his head. You’re too innocent for your own good, Yuji.

School passes quickly, and soon he’s back home. His only real escape, aside from Yuji’s letters, is the piano. He’s gotten better at it—better than he ever expected. It’s the one part of his routine he actually looks forward to.

Today, though, something feels different.

He senses it before he sees it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices his mother standing near the doorway, watching him. Really watching him. Her eyes aren’t blank, distant, or cold like they used to be. There’s something else there—something softer.

He keeps playing, waiting for her to leave, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she closes her eyes for a brief moment. He can see her lips move slightly, as if humming along to the melody.

Satoru doesn’t stop.

For some reason, he wants her to keep listening.

So, he draws out the notes, lingers on the softer parts of the song, lets the melody stretch through the air a little longer.

And for the first time in a long while, he doesn’t mind her presence. Not nearly as much as he thought he would.

He keeps playing.

And she keeps listening.

After a while his mum notices his lingering stares and becomes conscious of being watched.

She has a look of surprise on her face before she attempts to walk away. Satoru doesn’t take offense to it. He’s seen her efforts. He doesn’t quite understand it but he thinks they are due for a talk.

He isn’t sure how to initiate it though.

Before he gets the courage to ask for a conversation, his mum turns around and leaves.

***

Later that night Satoru is on his phone buying his tickets for his train ride to Sendai.

Excitement courses through his veins.

He’d already secured the gifts for Yuji, which included the phone. Wasuke hadn’t felt too comfortable letting Satoru cover all the fees for the phone, so he agreed to let him cover half of it. That way they reach a compromise.

But aside from that, he had another thing in mind that he wanted to give Yuji, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

Not being able to call him almost every night like they used to early in their friendship meant Satoru didn’t have too much to occupy his nights anymore.

It’s almost like he forgot what normal nights felt like. On nights like this, he usually goes on  walks in their estate. He also knows no one is ever out by this time so in some ways, it’s a good kind of alone time that he doesn’t mind.

He’s out walking by their family garden, the lights fully illuminating the pathways and flowers. Their home left much to be desired when it came to the people within the walls, but the estate was always so eerily beautiful to him.

The Gojo estate is beautiful, but at night, it carries an unsettling stillness. Moonlight turns the stone pathways silver, and the towering pines cast shadows that stretch too far. The koi ponds reflect the dark sky, their stillness broken only by the occasional ripple.

The lanterns flicker as Satoru walks, their glow stretching shadows into unfamiliar shapes.The house looms behind him, its many windows like unblinking eyes.

He knows this place. He’s lived here his whole life.

And yet, tonight it feels more eerie, it feels like something else is out here with him too. Watching. Waiting.

Satoru looks further down the garden and finds someone seated on one of the benches. He hesitates to approach, but as he walks further down, he makes out the silhouette of his mother.

What is she doing out here so late? 

He guesses the same could be asked of him. But she’s never been out here on any of his other night walks.

Not knowing what to do, he makes a U-turn to return to the main house when—

“Satoru?” His mother calls after him.

He stops in his tracks. Unsure if he should pretend he didn’t hear or turn back towards her. Perhaps this was the one opportunity he’d have to talk to her. Before her and his father leave for Tokyo tomorrow.

He decides on the latter and turns his attention towards her.

“Yes mother?” He answers. Voice laced with uncertainty.

“Could you come closer please, I can’t hear you from all the way here.” She says.

Satoru walks up to her. His steps calculated, millions of thoughts running through his head at once. Wondering what she would say next.

But when he comes closer, she doesn’t say anything. They just look at each other.

But her gaze is different this time. For the first time she wasn’t looking at him with a void in her eyes, she almost looked bashful.

In a way Satoru felt like he was taking her in, truly taking her in for the first time.

His mother was many things, but one thing he could never deny was her ethereal beauty.

With long black hair and deep brown eyes that flicker gold under the lantern light, his mother is as beautiful as people say. Satoru hears it often—that he takes after her, though his most striking features belong to his father. But he never sees it.

Right now, all he sees is the exhaustion lining her face. The dark circles beneath her eyes, the subtle creases in her skin. She looks worn out. Stressed. Like she hasn’t been sleeping. 

The silence between them stretches long, heavy. Satoru almost turns to leave when, finally, she speaks.

“How was school today?”

He freezes. Blinks.

How was school today? What is she talking about?

There’s no bite to her tone, no sarcasm. When he meets her gaze again, he realizes—she means it. Every word. 

His chest tightens. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, you know?” His voice is quiet at first, but his frustration bleeds through. “The lunches, the good lucks, the questions about my day—it’s not like you. It’s not what you do. It’s not… it’s not who we are.”

She doesn’t respond, just watches him with an unreadable expression.

Satoru exhales sharply. He takes the silence as permission to say what he’s been holding in for years.

“You can’t keep confusing me. You tell Father about me talking to someone at night, then you apologize for it. You look at me with pity, then with disgust.  You barely look at me most times, and when you do, it makes me feel like I’m the smallest person alive.”

His voice wavers, his breath uneven. He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing himself to continue.

“Not even Father makes me feel that small—because at least with him, I expect nothing. But you… you should have been different. With me, you should have been different.”

His fists clench at his sides. His chest burns. He doesn’t even realize how erratic his breathing has become until his words tumble out in a desperate whisper.

“I just don’t understand why you hate me so much.” 

The weight of his own admission crushes him. He feels too raw, too exposed. Close to tears.

But Satoru doesn’t cry. Not here. Not in this house.

Before he can pull himself back together, he feels it—arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

For a moment, he doesn’t breathe.

“Oh, my sweet boy, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this for so long.” Satoru’s mother says.

He could feel the trembling of her voice as she held him tighter.  

“I’m so sorry I treated you like that for so long. It was never my intention. I loved you…. I love you, but your father and I ,we weren’t supposed to be together.” She takes a breath as though contemplating her next words carefully. Wanting to finally open the dam of this fractured relationship of theirs.

“…. I had someone, whom I loved deeply. I was young and naïve, but in love, so I hardly cared for anything else. We were supposed to be married. I wanted to get married, but my parents got an offer from the Gojo family. Their heir, being your father at the time, was expected to forge an alliance with another powerful family to expand the Gojo conglomerate. My family happened to be the only wealthy family at the time with a daughter of marriageable age.”

She pulls back and takes Satoru’s hand, leading him back to the bench and sitting them both down.

Thumbs tracing patterns over Satoru’s hand. She continues.

“Back then, my father was also a power-hungry man, and he jumped at the opportunity immediately. I wanted to run away. I needed to, for my own happiness. So, we made plans to run away together, but my father found out. I don’t know what he did to him, but I never heard from him or saw him again after that.”

“It didn’t take long for my father to move up the plans for the wedding and before I knew it I was hipped off to a city I knew nothing off with a man I didn’t know or love.”

“I quickly fell pregnant after the wedding. At first, I had mixed feelings. Being in this house, I was merely an heir pumping machine. I was of no other significance to the family than that. My resentment for everyone I knew grew with each month as I got closer to the delivery date. I tried taking my life a couple of times because I felt trapped in my own body. Of course, your father never let me, he put guards on me 24/7.

I was never allowed out of the house or out of sight of another person until I finally gave birth to you.”

“But then you came…. and you were every inch as beautiful as I feared you to be. My very own beautiful boy. I started feeling comfortable about the idea of carving my own little haven here. I thought to myself if no one else cares for me, at least you would, and that would be enough.”

She pauses, head tilting up a little to look at Satoru. She continues. “But as time passed and you grew older, the more you looked like your father. The more you reminded me of him and the pain this marriage has brought to me. I started to fear the worst…. That maybe you would turn out just like him regardless of my love for you. I’m ashamed to admit I resented you for it. I held you accountable for sins that you are not responsible for and for that, I’m so sorry.” She stops, trying to read Satoru’s expression, unsure of his reception to the truth, her truth.”

She continues. “So, to answer your question, no I don’t hate you Satoru, I just hate the version of me I see when I’m in this house. The woman I used to be died the moment I stepped foot into this house. A part of me I’m not sure I’d ever get back.”

Satoru wasn’t sure what to say to this. To be told the way he looks was the reason why his mother couldn’t stand to look at him. Why he couldn’t feel embraced by her all his life, why he felt so cold and alone in this house.

This doesn’t feel enough.

“Why now?” Satoru asks, confused and frustrated. His fists clenching at his sides. “What took you so long to hold me, to tell me you loved me? It doesn’t feel enough, it doesn’t feel like anything you say right now will ever be enough.”

His mother reaches out for him once more but Satoru flinches back.

She has a pained look on her face, but she puts her hand down in complete understanding.

“You ask what changed... I found your letters.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with surprise and a fire burns within him. An urge to scream about a breach of privacy. He wants to retort when—

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell your father about them.” I only found them because I usually clean out your room.”

This surprises Satoru, he always thought the housekeepers did that.

“I’d been seeing it for a while now;the box— with the letters I mean.” She speaks. “I got curious one day and finally opened it.” She smiles, as if reminiscing back to that day favorably.

“I saw the letters and gifts from that kid, Yuji was it? It was all the cutest things, I also saw some of the unsent ones you wrote. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy but once I started reading, the more curious I got.

Satoru clenches his jaw. “You had no right.” 

“I know,” she admits. There’s no defensiveness in her tone, no attempt to justify it. “But I’m glad I did.”

His fingers twitch at his sides. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want her to be involved in this part of him.

“You care about that boy,” she continues, ignoring the tension rolling off him. “Deeply. I don’t think I ever realized how much until I read your words.”

Satoru looks away, staring at one of the small ponds in the garden instead of her face. “Why are you telling me this?”

She exhales slowly, the weight of her thoughts evident in the pause before she speaks again. “Because it made me see something I had refused to acknowledge for years.”

She moves closer, just enough for her voice to drop to something more personal, more intimate. “In the past, every time I looked at you, I saw him. His face, his presence, his way of carrying himself.” She shakes her head, her eyes clouded with something unreadable. “I was so afraid that you would become him. That one day, I’d look at you and see nothing of myself in you. Nothing but him staring back at me. I was so terrified and firm in my thoughts that I ended up becoming just like him. Treating you in some ways worse than him.”

Satoru swallows, the weight of her words pressing into his chest.

“But those letters,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “They weren’t the words of your father’s son. They weren’t cold or distant or self-serving. They were kind. They were filled with warmth, with longing, with love.” She lets out a quiet breath. “And for the first time, I realized how wrong I was about you.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

She watches him a moment longer before turning her gaze back to the pond. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t expect things to change overnight. But… I wanted you to know that I see you now, Satoru. Really see you.”

She makes no move to touch him, no attempt to close the space between them. She simply leaves the words there, waiting for him to decide what to do with them.

Satoru stays still, his heart hammering against his ribs, unsure whether to feel relief or resentment. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he doesn’t.

His mother doesn’t wait for an answer. 

After a while, she smiles and speaks. “I want to do better….be better for you. When your father and I get back from Tokyo I want us to start afresh. Just me and you. We can go anywhere you want.” 

Satoru looks at her, pensive and riddled with conflicting feelings. His whole life he’d wondered why his mother was so cold to him. 

Now that he knows, he’s conflicted on how to feel about her reasons. 

But he thinks back to Yuji. He knows what Yuji would say. Despite how young he is, he’s always been in tune with his emotional awareness, in ways Satoru wishes he could emulate. 

So much understanding and kindness, contained in that small body.  

He adores it. 

 Satoru still isn’t sure what to say in response to his mother, so he blurts out something else entirely.  

“I’m going to Sendai this weekend.” He admits. It’s his own attempt at extending his arms to her. Opening cracks in his already caged heart.

 “Sendai? What for?” 

 He gives her time to come to the realization herself. 

 Her eyes widen before she smiles. “Oh, that’s where he lives right?”

 Satoru, suddenly bashful, nods. Saying all that needs to be said. 

 “I won’t pry any more into it, but I think that’s wonderful Satoru.” 

 And true to her words, it’s all she says about it. 

 They sit in silence for some more time before she finally speaks up. 

 “I think we better head inside before your father notices my absence and then yours.”  

Satoru nods and stands to leave before he feels her hand on his. He doesn’t turn to look back but he listens. 

 “Satoru, I meant every word I said tonight. I want us to have a fresh start. So please think it over while I’m gone. Have fun with Yuji in Sendai. I’d love to meet him someday too—the boy my son is all crazy for.”

Satoru feels the heat creep up his neck, spreading all the way to his ears. He’s sure that if anyone were to see his face right now, they wouldn’t be able to tell it apart from a tomato.

“I’m not crazy about him!” he blurts out, his voice cracking in a way that makes him cringe. He catches himself, willing his embarrassment to subside before turning away from her.

This time, he speaks more quietly. “I’m not crazy about him… not in that way. He’s just—he’s just my friend. My best friend. He’s important to me.”

His mother smiles at him, the biggest smile he’s ever seen from her. It softens her features, making her look younger, lighter, almost like a different person. Satoru realizes, for the first time, that he likes seeing her this way.

“Whatever he is to you, or you to him, Satoru, I’m just glad you have someone like that in your life,” she says, her smile dimming slightly, replaced with something sadder. “Someone who makes you feel warm in ways your father and I failed to.”

For a moment, Satoru doesn’t know what to say. But then, hesitantly, he reaches out and gives her hand a small squeeze. It’s not much, just a brief press of his fingers against hers, but he hopes she understands what he’s trying to say.

When she looks up at him again, there’s something unreadable in her gaze, but she offers him another small smile before finally standing.

He lets go of her hand, and together, they walk back toward the main house in comfortable silence.

Inside, they exchange quiet goodnights before retreating to their rooms.

Once Satoru is in bed, the weight of everything finally crashes down on him.

He and his mother had really just talked.

The talk.

It was a moment he had dreaded his entire life, a conversation he thought would never happen. But now, with everything laid bare, he feels lighter. Maybe even a little hopeful.

Turning onto his side, he exhales slowly. He feels… good.

Maybe he hasn’t forgiven everything yet. Maybe he’s not even close. But this is a start, and for the first time, he doesn’t hate that.

***

By morning, he wakes up with the biggest smile on his face. His chest feels devoid of any tightness.

It has been a while since he’s woken up without immediately dreading the day.

His parents are leaving for Tokyo today. He has been looking forward to this trip for so long, but now, his nerves are all over the place. Because their return won’t just mean leaving Sendai—it’ll mean a new dynamic between him and his mother.

Having one parent on his side will change things in the Gojo family. Maybe not drastically, maybe not all at once, but…

Perhaps life will feel a little less lonely than it always has.

And that thought alone makes him feel relieved.

Getting ready for school isn’t as suffocating this morning.

Today, he finally gets to go to Sendai. He finally gets to see Yuji again.

And he couldn’t be more exhilarated.

Chapter Text

Coming back from school, Satoru is a bundle of nerves. He has to head to the train station now to make it to Sendai on time. His parents already left for Tokyo, which leaves just him at home.

He calls Wasuke to remind and ensure him of his arrival. They had initially planned to surprise Yuji together, but Wasuke thought it would make Yuji happier if they met first before the three of them do anything together.

Satoru agreed without hesitation. Any alone time with Yuji is always going to be time well spent.

He packs up all his essentials for the weekend. This is his first solo trip. Usually when he travels anywhere with his family, they don’t have to take much. They usually buy what they need when they get there. So now having to decide what was important and what wasn’t isn’t really something Satoru is an expert in. But he tries his best.

Getting to the station and trying to navigate his way around is even worse than he anticipated. He’s overwhelmed by the sheer number of people walking in all directions. The Kyoto station has him all out of his depth. Clutching his previously purchased tickets and scanning the departure board, he realizes he has no idea where to go.

He has one train from Kyoto to Tokyo, then after that, a train from Tokyo to Sendai.

Should be easy enough, he thinks to himself.

He can’t afford to mess this up. This will likely be his one chance to see Yuji because he’s not sure when next the stars will align for him like this.

He exhales sharply with determination. He makes up his mind to straighten up and get help from a ticket officer. He tries to concentrate on his environment. Ignoring all the noise and commotion.

He reads the directions on the signs and starts walking. Staying calm and letting his eyes lead him.

He finally finds the ticket office. He walks over, hands in his pocket to seem as casual as possible. “Excuse me,” he says, his voice steady as can be “I have tickets for today to Sendai. Can you tell me where my train is?”

The train station attendant glances at his tickets then gestures towards one of the platforms.

Satoru is very quick on his feet and adapts really well, so even the haphazard nature in the directions from the attendant doesn’t throw him off as it would other people. He nods as the older man waves his hands all over the place, an excuse of directing him. But Satoru stays calm.

When he’s done, he thanks him and proceeds as he was told.

He checks the signs just to be sure he’s on the right track. Following just as poorly instructed.

While he’s walking, the announcement for his train echoes through the station.

He picks up the pace, his heart does the same. His anticipation grows without constraints.

When he finally gets to the track where he was told the train would be, it’s already there. With a sharp exhale, he gets on it.

This is it.

After almost three years he will finally get to see his best friend. He can hardly wait.

~

After what felt like eternity, and two train rides, Satoru was finally in Sendai.

He steps out of the station and takes in the unfamiliarity of the city. The cool air hitting him. He did it, he’s finally here.

He glances down at his phone and sends a quick text to Wasuke, letting him know he was here.

He receives a text back. “He’s at the park close to our house. You can surprise him there before you guys come home.”

He smiles. His heart pounds—not from nerves, he’s just…. eager.

Satoru wastes no time in getting a cab. Following Wasuke’s instructions leading to their house.

When he gets to the park, he quickly gets out of the taxi. Mutters a thank you before making his way through the path leading to the center of the park.

Tucking his hands in his pockets his eyes scan the playground and the open field. Surveying the area for that familiar tuft of pink hair.

And then he sees it.

He sees him.

He’s by the swings, kicking the dirt absentmindedly, bundled up in a red hoodie that’s way too big on him. He looks different from the last time Satoru saw him in person—taller, maybe a little leaner—but at the same time, exactly the same.

Satoru grins, taking a deep breath before walking casually towards him.

He thinks about all the things he wants to say to him. Does he sound cool, does he sound heartfelt? Does he say nothing and just run up to him.

All the thoughts flow into his mind. When he’s just a feet away, he finally settles on following his gut. He calls out—

“Oi, birthday boy.”

Yuji freezes mid swing. The voice that echoes too familiar not to stop him in his tracks.

His hands grip the chains, he whips his head so fast and with an intensity that makes Satoru terrified he might break his neck from how fast he turned.

Their eyes meet.

For a moment there’s nothing but silence.

Yuji’s mouth hangs open, blinking like he’s trying to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

Then—

”SATORU?!!”

Yuji launches himself off the swing, nearly tripping over his own feet as he runs straight at him. Before Satoru can even brace himself, Yuji slams into him with full force, arms locking around his torso in a tackle that nearly knocks them both over.

Satoru lets out a huff of laughter, stumbling but holding his ground, wrapping his own arms around him.

Yuji is warm. He tightens his grip on Satoru like he’s afraid he’d disappear if he lets go.

“You—what—what are you doing here?!!” Yuji exclaims, muffled against Satoru’s coat.

Satoru smirks, ruffling the back of Yuji’s hair.

“What, can’t I visit my favorite friend in the world anymore? On his birthday no less.”

Yuji pulls back enough to look up at Satoru.

“What about school—do your parents know? But it’s so far away. Don’t tell me you ran aw—”

“Relax Yuji, I didn’t run away from home this time.” Satoru snorts. “Your grandpa helped me plan it.” Satoru finishes, watching as realization dawns on Yuji’s face.

Yuji’s mouth opens, then closes again. Then he mutters to himself but loud enough that Satoru could hear it. “That traitor!” but there was no real heat behind it. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise after all.” Satoru teases, ruffling Yuji’s hair.

Yuji groans but doesn’t let go of Satoru. His hands still clinging on to the fabric of his coat like he’s making sure he’s really there. “You’re really here.” He says, soft, quieter, but his joy carries through over to Satoru.

Satoru feels something tighten in his chest and pulls Yuji back into his embrace, squeezing him tight. “Of course I am. Not as early as I promised but I’m here.”

“This is the best birthday ever.” Yuji declares. “I don’t need any other birthday ever again.”

Satoru lets out a laugh. “You brat, we haven’t even done anything yet to celebrate.” He’s still holding on to him too. Like he’s also still in disbelief.

“We don’t have to do anything, you being here is enough for me. I don’t need anything else.” Yuji responds, his voice full of sentiment. So soft and warm.

Satoru is overwhelmed. It’s one thing for Yuji to always be so open to him over the phone but hearing him say this in person is so much more overwhelming than his heart was ready for.

“Are you sure, even if I have presents with me?” He responds, trying to distract his heart from the fullness of his emotions.

“Presents?”

Satoru hums in acknowledgment. They are still wrapped up in each other’s arms. He wishes they could stay like this for longer, but he knows they have to go home to see Yuji’s grandpa.

But it’s okay because they have the whole weekend to talk and hang out and do everything they could possibly do together before Satoru has to get back.

Yuji finally pulls back, practically bouncing on his feet. “Wait, how long are you staying? What’s the plan? Do we get to hang out? Can we get ice cream? Oh, there’s so many—

Satoru places his index finger on Yuji’s lips, shushing him. “Slow down you hyperactive potato, one question at a time. We’ve got the whole weekend, yes and yes, we can get ice cream—but later. We have to go see your grandpa at home now. I don’t want him thinking I kidnapped you.”

Yuji’s eyes widen and a smile stretches across his face like he just got the best idea ever. “Can’t you? You should one hundred percent kidnap me Satoru.”

Satoru shakes his head while smiling and grabs Yuji by his hoodie tugging him towards him, steering them both towards the exit of the park. “Come on, let’s go home Yuji.”

                                   ~

Yuji practically vibrates with excitement as they walk, sneaking glances at Satoru. Satoru knows exactly what he’s thinking. And he feels the same.

Letters and phone calls could only do so much.

But nothing compares to this.

Being here with him. Hearing his voice. Walking side by side. It’s different. It’s real.

“You got way taller Satoru.” Yuji says, squinting at him. “I mean, you were already kinda tall when we first met, but now it’s just unfair.”

Satoru smirks, throwing an arm around Yuji’s shoulder, pulling him into a headlock.

“And you’re still as tiny as ever.” He teases.

“I’m still growing, plus I just turned twelve. I’d soon be as tall as you.” Yuji flairs dramatically.

“Not a chance in hell.” Satoru snickers. “Besides, I like you being shorter than me. I get to—

Before Yuji could react, Satoru lifts him up under his knees carrying him bridal style and spins him around.

Yuji shrieks.

“—do this.” Satoru finishes, laughing as Yuji flails in his grasp.

 “Put me down Satoru. Stop it! Stop!” But he doesn’t sound like he means it.

Satoru just holds him tighter, effortlessly adjusting his grip. “What’s wrong princess? Don’t like being carried?”

“Put me down you freakishly tall giant.”

Satoru only grins wider. “Nah, this is kinda fun.” He stops spinning him around and adjusts his grip like Yuji weighs nothing. Just holding onto him now.

“Again, again. Spin me again.” And Yuji’s wish is Satoru’s command. He spins him around, smiling from ear to ear. Yuji laughs. There it is.

There’s his favorite sound in the world.

 Like music to his ears. He never wants to depart from it. He always wants it to be the one thing he gets to hear.

“I see you kids are having fun.”

Satoru and Yuji stop and look over behind them. They had been so lost in each other, that they hadn’t noticed they were already by Yuji’s house.

Wasuke stands at the entrance to the house, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised in confusion of what was going on.

Satoru outs Yuji down and tries his best to straighten himself out and look presentable.

Yuji stumbles trying to get back on his feet and reorient himself.

Wasuke sighs, shaking his head. “You two are impossible as always. Get inside before you catch a cold.”

Satoru just grins, “nice to see you too old man.”

Yuji, still red faced, groans dramatically, “jiichan, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Satoru was coming. I was so unprepared.”

Wasuke already turning around ready to head back into the house pays him no mind. Only mildly muttering about how Yuji isn’t really mad at him.

Satoru ruffles Yuji’s hair and follows suit after Wasuke to get into the house.

The Itadori household does not compare to Satoru’s in size or design, but the moment he steps inside, he feels more at home than he ever has at his.

Framed pictures of Yuji and his grandpa—especially countless photos of just Yuji by himself hang all over the walls, each a testament to their cherished memories. Pots of flowers and leafy plants which infuse the air with a soft and natural fragrance. There is a tinge of another aroma that lingers in the air, something savory. Scattered throughout are items that would’ve been thrown out as clutter in Satoru’s house, yet here, they add a sense of warmth and character.

The atmosphere wraps around Satoru like a gentle embrace, stirring a bittersweet mix of comfort and longing.

He feels a nudge in his side, interrupting his moment of awe.

“Welcome to my castle” Yuji announces enthusiastically, spreading his arms like a wrestling announcer.

Satoru snorts. “Such a tiny castle.”

“Hey!” Yuji smacks his arm, but no real anger behind it. “Not everyone gets to live in a mansion!”

Satoru laughs, dodging his next attempt to swat at him. “I’m just kidding. It may be small, but I like it here better already.” He smiles, a genuine smile, that Yuji has no choice but to relent.

Wasuke clears his throat, stepping past them towards what Satoru assumes is the kitchen. “I assume you’d be eating dinner with us today, Satoru? To be honest, it’s not really a question, you will be eating dinner with us.” Wasuke says, firm.

Satoru gulps before nodding his head in affirmation.

“Good. You kids can hang out and catch up. I’d be stepping out to get some things you might need for the weekend. In the meantime, try not to destroy my house.”

Yuji groans from beside Satoru, hands on his hips. “What do you take us for Jiichan?”

“Boys in puberty.” He responds without missing a beat.

Satoru blinks, taken aback before he responds. “Nothing is going to happen. We’d be on our best behaviour.” Yuji tilts his little head in confusion. Before he can lend his own two cents to the statement, his grandpa starts heading out.

Yuji tugs on Satoru’s sleeve, already pulling him towards his room. “Come on!”

Satoru barely has time to slip his bag off his shoulder before he’s being dragged down the short hallway.

Yuji’s room is smaller than his, but cluttered in a way that feels distinctly him. Just like Satoru pictured in his head a thousand times. Posters of action movies and anime characters cover the walls. A stack of manga leans precariously near the end of his bed, a well-worn beanbag rests beside a low table covered in schoolbooks, a stack of what appears to be letters Satoru sent to him and random trinkets.

Satoru chuckles, stepping inside. “I don’t know how to explain it, but this place feels so…you.”

Yuji flops onto his bed with a grin. “Yeah, it’s a little messy right now, but I swear it’s only because I haven’t had time to clean up this week.”

Satoru gets on the bed and flops down right beside Yuji. Their arms lined up close, no space between them. “No not that. Just…seeing all the things you like all around the room. It screams…Itadori Yuji. My room kind of looks like an office sometimes. Big, clean and kinda…empty. Not a lot going on.”

“Don’t you have things you’d like to hang on your walls?” Yuji asks, his voice tainted with genuine curiosity.

Satoru contemplates. There are pictures in his house, but mostly formal ones in their living room. Some with just his parents, some with his extended family. None of it ever felt like something Satoru wanted to look at for too long. None of it ever felt genuine.

He replies with a simple shake of his head.

Yuji’s brows furrow slightly. “That sounds lonely.”

Satoru shrugs as if the thought doesn’t sting a little. “Guess I’m used to it. But your room… not just the room, the whole house.” He turns his head slightly, meeting Yuji’s gaze. “It feels…warm.”

Yuji offers a small smile, eyes soft with understanding, “Well…you’re always welcome here, Satoru. Always.

The warmth in Satoru’s chest grows a little stronger, a little harder to ignore. “Yeah thanks, Yuji.”

Silence falls between them. Satoru feels a slight pressure of Yuji shifting beside him—and then, without warning, a small hand slips into his.

Satoru’s pulse jumps. Being this close to Yuji makes his heart do things he can’t seem to comprehend. This isn’t their first time touching, and yet, there is something so intimate about them holding hands like this. In this space that’s just for them. His best friend in the whole world. And not for the first time he’s glad he came.

“I’m really happy you’re here Satoru,” Yuji murmurs, thumb brushing absentmindedly against Satoru’s knuckles. I know you promised me we’d see each other again and I did believe you, I just never expected it to be today. Thank you, for coming all the way here for my birthday.”

Satoru swallows against a lump forming in his throat. For a moment, words fail him, so instead he gives Yuji’s hand a gentle squeeze, hoping it says everything he can’t. He wants to make a light joke of it. He finds himself wanting to say, ‘Don’t get all sappy on me now birthday boy’.

But Satoru looks at Yuji and sees an expression on his face he’s not sure what to make of. The sincerity of his words registers to him differently now.

So instead, he replies with a sincerity of his own. “You don’t ever have to thank me for things that come so easily. You’re important to me so what’s a couple kilometers for my favourite person in the world.” He grins, meaning every word and more.

Before they can indulge in the moment any longer, Wasuke calls for them from outside.

“Yuji! Satoru! Come on out. Dinner’s ready!

Yuji bolts upright, nearly pulling Satoru’s arm with him. “Come on! Grandpa is a really good cook.” Yuji’s excitement is contagious as he tugs Satoru off the bed. Their hands slip apart as they scramble to their feet, and just like that, the air between them shifts back into something lighter, easier.

They hurry out to find Wasuke waiting for them in the dinning room. The table is already set with steaming bowls of food—simple but hearty dishes that smell like home. And at the center of it all sits a round strawberry cake with a few candles pressed into the top and a happy birthday Yuji topper on it too.

Yuji’s eyes light up instantly. “Cake!”

Yuji’s grandpa smirks. “Yes brat, cake, now take a sit before the food grows cold.”

They sit down and without hesitation, dig into dinner with the kind of eagerness only kids can muster. Satoru finds himself going for seconds. A kind of appetite he’s not really accustomed to at home.

Before long, it’s time for cake. Yuji clasps his hands together, eyes wide with anticipation as his grandpa lights the candles one by one.

“Make a wish brat,” Wasuke says, stepping back.

Yuji closes his eyes, brows scrunching up in concentration. Satoru watches from beside him, curiosity nibbling at his thoughts, wondering what Yuji could have possibly wished for.

A moment later. Yuji takes a deep breath and blows out the candles in on ego. Smoke fades out in the air as the flames flicker out.

“Happy birthday, Yuji, my favourite grandson.” Wasuke says, placing his hand on his shoulder.

Yuji deadpans, “I’m your only grandson jiichan.” Silence falls between them before Satoru interrupts with his own wishes.

 “Happy birthday snot nosed brat,” he adds, smirking.

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but he’s laughing as he elbows Satoru lightly in the ribs.

They slice into the cake, the rich strawberry flavour melting across their tongues as laughter fills the air. It’s gracious and easy. It’s everything Satoru never knew he needed until now.

Once the plates are cleared, Wasuke clears his throat, drawing their attention. “Now…there’s one last thing,” he says, glancing toward Satoru with a knowing look. “Yuji, this one’s mostly from Satoru.”

Yuji blinks in surprise as Satoru slides a neatly wrapped box across the table toward him. His hands hover over the ribbon for a moment as if he’s afraid to ruin the neat wrapping. Then, with a glance at Satoru, he pulls the ribbon loose and peels back the paper.

A gasp catches in his throat as he lifts the lid, eyes going wide.

“No way…is it?!

“Yup, a phone.” Satoru confirms, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “You’re finally twelve, like I told you, time would fly by so fast without you noticing. Now you can call me anytime you want and even text me.

“Hey careful, not just anytime, he still has to go to bed early for school.” Wasuke scolds.

Satoru waves it off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just trying to make a point.”

Yuji drops the phone box back on the table as he leaps over into Satoru’s arms, hugging him. “Thank you so much Satoru. I love it.” He looks over to Wasuke, “Thank you too Jiichan.”

“What? So, I don’t get a hug?” he asks, sounding very indifferent to it.

“But you always say you don’t like being touched.” Yuji replies brazenly. Wasuke dismisses his claims, not wanting to go further into it.

They talk some more and eat some more cake. Their conversations easily flowing from one topic to another. By the end of the night, they are all very exhausted.

Satoru looks down to his right and finds a very sleepy, head nodding Yuji. He places his head on his shoulder, to prevent his head from hitting the table.

Wasuke is clearing the table of ribbons and arranging the dinning seats when Satoru speaks up, “Thank you, for letting me come. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off but seeing him be happy makes up for any doubt I ever had.”

Wasuke pauses in the middle of arranging the chairs before he speaks, “You know,” he says after a moment “you’re his first real friend. I’m hard on him sometimes, always forcing him to spend more time with his classmates or join school clubs, but he never wanted to do any of that. It wasn’t until later I found out the reason why. Turns out the other kids think he’s cursed...being an orphan. Rumours spread around the school about him. Parents warning their kids to stay away from him for their own safety, like he’s some disease. But he never said a word, he never complained. I just thought he would rather hang out with his old grandpa than kids his own age. But finding out it wasn’t really something in his own control… Sometimes I worry his heart is too big. Always acting like he’s fine and covering up his loneliness with a smile.”

Wasuke spares a moment of silence, letting his words sink in before he continues. “I’m old, I won’t be around forever. So, I want you to promise me you’d always be there for him, in whatever capacity that is. I just don’t want to worry about his well-being. I want to know he’d be good when I’m gone.”

It occurs to Satoru that this is the most vulnerable he’s ever seen Yuji’s grandpa. There’s no sarcasm behind his words or grumpiness. It’s simply the humble plea of a grandfather for his grandson, who he clearly loves dearly. Satoru’s heart clenches.

“You don’t have to worry about that jiichan, I will always be there for him.”

No other words pass between them. Before long, Wasuke nudges Yuji awake to head to bed.

Satoru is about prepared to sleep in the living room, when Wasuke instructs him to just sleep in Yuji’s room for more comfort. Satoru doesn’t argue. After all, he doesn’t mind either. He follows Yuji down the hall to his room, watching as he pushes the door open and flicks on the light.

He’s ready to spread out the futon neatly folded at the end of the room to sleep on the floor when he feels a hand tug at his sleeves.

“You can just sleep on the bed with me.” Yuji says, his tone casual.

Satoru pauses mid motion, “You sure? I take up a lot of space, you know.”

Yuji rolls his eyes, “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Unless you’re scared I’ll kick you in my sleep?”

Satoru snorts. “Please. I’d like to see you try.” he replies, causing Yuji to giggle.

With that, he steps away from the futon and climbs onto the bed beside Yuji. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he shifts onto his side, facing Yuji. The room is dark now, only streaks of silver from the moonlight illuminating the room.

Yuji is already half asleep, his breaths slow and even. His messy hair falls across his forehead, shadowing his closed eyes. Satoru watches him in silence, something fragile curling beneath his ribs. He wants to reach out, to brush the stray hair away from his forehead, but his hands hesitate, curling under the blankets instead.

His mind drifts back to what Wasuke had told him earlier—how Yuji’s classmates avoided him because of untrue rumours about his family. The whispers of curses and bad luck. How Yuji, for all his laughter and easy smiles, carried more loneliness than most people realized.

Satoru’s chest squeezes tight. He knows that kind of loneliness all too well—the ache of being set apart from others, in his case brought about by his upbringing, but with Yuji…with him it’s different. It should be different. He deserves nothing but warmth. He has so much love in his heart that he can’t imagine people willfully keeping themselves from that warmth.

Well, their loss, Satoru thinks, more for me. He has me and I’m not going anywhere.

He’s so lost in thought that he almost misses the moment Yuji shifts closer. Small hands curl against his shirt, pulling slightly as Yuji burrows into the warmth of his chest.

Satoru stiffens at first, his breath catching in his throat. The faint scent of Yuji’s shampoo permeates his senses. He can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Slowly, Satoru exhales. His hand rests against Yuji’s back, gentle, then with more certainty, he pulls him close. The warmth between them steady and solid.

Yuji murmurs something soft and incomprehensible against his chest—already half lost to the waves of slumber and Satoru closes his eyes.

He decides to focus on the serenity of the moment. He lets the promise he made to Wasuke wash over him. He vows to keep it for as long as he can.

Though, what Satoru doesn’t know yet is that sometimes promises are made, and sometimes they are forced to be broken.

And before long, sleep comes for him too.

Chapter Text

Morning comes, and Satoru can feel a set of eyes on him. A glare so intense he can feel it in his bones. It takes him a while, but he remembers he’s not home, he’s at Yuji’s. 

He’s with Yuji, on Yuji’s bed. 

His reality diffuses through his subconscious. He wants to open his eyes, to acknowledge Yuji’s stares. But he opts to let him have his way. 

It doesn’t take long for Yuji to stretch out his hands towards his face. He starts with his hair, brushing it off Satoru’s face. The same action Satoru had attempted last night, but his pusillanimity was all too apparent. 

But with Yuji, it comes easy. It always does. His actions, his words were always uncomplicated like that. A part of him he sometimes envies. 

He feels as his fingers glide across his face. He traces every curve, every blemish, every imperfection. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, he lingers on his lips just a little longer. The fluttering of Satoru’s heart is too perceivable, he’s shocked Yuji can’t hear it. 

There’s a certain intimacy to being touched like this. To be laid bare in ways his heart wasn’t used to. The tenderness with which Yuji stroked his skin lit up his senses. 

And Yuji is probably unaware of what his actions are doing to Satoru. Satoru wants to chuck it up to puberty. To things being out of his control. But his body has a mind of its own. He starts to feel strange. Too strange.  

He jerks his eyes open in reflex. Scared of what his body was making him feel. 

But Yuji doesn’t flinch. His hand, frozen in mid air, stares at Satoru like he was the only thing in the world of significance. Satoru remains unmoved under the weight of his gaze. Scared to speak, unsure his voice will remain steady, as it dared to form his next words. Before he can think of what to say next, Yuji speaks. 

“Your eyes are really pretty Satoru.” 

Easy. Always easy. 

He doesn’t say anything immediately in response. Instead, he finds himself caught in the quiet of Yuji’s gaze. 

The morning light spilling through the windows casts soft rays lighting up every corner of their space and with that light, Yuji’s eyes shine brighter to Satoru in that moment than it ever has. He sees pools of molten honey, deep and endless. Hidden rings of golden brown threading through his irises give them a picture so serene that Satoru almost gets lost in them. 

And he is… lost. 

Too lost he forgets to respond. 

“Are you okay?” He hears Yuji’s voice, unsure and timid. Knocking Satoru back into reality. The corners of his mouth rise in a small smile. 

“Were you staring at me all night Yuji?” He says, teasing, deferring the attention from himself. 

“No, I just woke up a couple minutes ago. But then I saw your face and I think I just realised how pretty you are.” 

Satoru’s eyes widen. He wonders why Yuji thinks he can just say things, with no care for what they do to his heart. He’s mortified at the idea of Yuji speaking like this to just anyone he meets. He can’t have him not knowing the effect this could have on people. From the rambling in his mind he channels his thoughts to his mouth instead.

“You know Yuji you can’t just—“ Before Satoru could go into a rant on how Yuji should never speak like this to anyone else, they both turn their heads in attention to a knock on the door. 

A second knock comes, this time accompanied by Wasuke’s voice. “You boys should come on out for breakfast before you get on with the day.” 

Satoru sighs and buries his head back in the pillows. 

“You’re acting weird, Satoru. Well I guess you’re always weird.” He blurts out, hand on his chin, contemplating, like it’s the most serious topic he’s ever talked about. “But way weirder than usual.” 

Satoru wouldn’t know what to tell Yuji either. He doesn’t understand why he always feels weird at the slightest things Yuji says. Why his heart races at the faintest brush of their skin. He doesn’t know….he’s not sure he wants to know. He can’t explain it. Especially not now. 

From the fog of his introspection, he silently thanks Wasuke for breaking up the tension in the room and sparing him from a conversation he isn’t ready to navigate. 

He looks up from the pillows and grabs Yuji by the head instead. Pulling his head down to his chest, holding his head in a headlock and ruffling his hair erratically. 

“Satoru, what the hell are you doing ?!!! Stop it!” Yuji screams into his chest, but it projects as muffled noises to Satoru as he flails in protest.

He stops eventually after Yuji's frantic efforts and instead, just holds him stationary on his chest. 

Neither of them say anything for a while. The weight of the silence hangs between them for a moment. 

 “…I can’t believe I’m already leaving tomorrow. I just got here.” Satoru finally mutters. He shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight. As if trying to will his current reality away. 

“Me neither.” Yuji says. Not adding anything more to that. The melancholy brought on by the silence could be felt by both of them. 

Satoru pulls back. Knowing they had to get up now before Wasuke comes back and has their heads. 

“Let’s make the most of today before I leave. As a Sendai native, you get to show me around your kingdom.” He says with a levity to his voice. Trying his best to mask his sadness. 

Yuji nods. “There are so many fun things to do in Sendai. I don’t know which one to pick from.” 

Satoru pulls him in again. Rests his forehead against Yuji’s and speaks softly. “We can do everything. As much as the day will allow us.”and he means it. A day will never be enough for them. There’s always going to be another train to catch, another parent to avoid, another distance to travel. But right now, he’s choosing to focus on the present. All their existential worries will have to wait for another day. 

They get up from the bed and make their way to the dining room. To no surprise they find a grumpy, ready-to-explode Wasuke already seated and waiting for their arrival. Satoru attempts to make excuses for their lateness, but decides it wasn’t worth the trouble and backlash he’d probably get back. 

They eat in comfortable silence. Only the sounds of their chewing and clanking of cutleries were resounding off the walls of the room. No one feels the need to fill the quiet with words. Just enjoying each other’s company. 

After breakfast, Wasuke makes an excuse about having something urgent to do. Clearly only trying to give them time to spend together for a majority of the day. Satoru is silently grateful for him. Yuji, of course, is none the wiser. Just excited to finally get to take Satoru around town. 

After getting ready to take on the day, Yuji decides that the first stop should obviously be the arcade. It’s where they first met and he’s also feeling up for a healthy , friendly (not) competition.  

As soon as they arrive, Satoru cracks his knuckles and smirks. 

“Alright Yuji, just so you know that day we met in the arcade I just ran away from home, sad, frustrated and hungry. My mind was clearly not ready for games. But let me assure you, I will destroy you today.” 

Yuji raises an eyebrow in confusion and then pouts right after. “Wow Satoru, it’s just arcade games, are you planning on killing me?” He questions, almost mortified.” 

Satoru grins, “don’t worry, just a little revenge match is all.” 

They make their way to the first game.

Yuji speaks first, standing in front of the basketball hoops, “ alright, winner gets to pick dessert later, get ready to lose Satoru.” 

Satoru enthusiastically picks up a ball, “you talk a lot of game for someone who’s about to lose horribly.” 

The game starts and Yuji is fast, but Satoru is faster. His shots are effortless, swishing through the hoop with perfect accuracy. Yuji’s competitiveness kicks in, but he barely manages to beat Satoru’s overall score. 

“How the hell are you this good!? Yuji exclaims, looking at the scoreboard in disbelief. 

Satoru crosses his arms looking smug. “ I told you, you just caught me on a bad day, hehe. Plus I’m good at anything as long as I put my mind to it.” 

“Not fair!” Yuji pouts. “Let’s play another game!” 

Satoru pats his head mockingly. “Okay you choose whatever and let’s see if anything changes.” 

They head to a car racing game. The very game Satoru struggled with before. But today he easily glides and sways through the tracks with ease. Winning five out of eight of the races they played. Two of which Yuji suspects he went easy on him on. 

“Don’t worry Yuji, as the designated winner, I’ll make sure to pick us top quality desserts.” 

They finish off their arcade visit with a claw machine. Yuji tries first and fails miserably. Satoru sighs and rolls up his sleeves. “Watch and learn, amateur.” 

He also tries and fails miserably. Yuji clutches onto his stomach while laughing at Satoru. They go back and forth until Satoru finally secures a tiger plushie. But before Yuji could whine about how unfair it was, Satoru gives him the plushie.

“I was trying so hard so I could give you one dummy.” 

Yuji’s eyes widen, then his expression softens and he hugs the plushie closer to his chest. “Thank you Satoru.” 

“Yeah, yeah , whatever.” He says with no real petulance behind it. 

The rest of the day is a blend of excitement and laughter as they make their way through various famed locations in Sendai. Throughout the day Satoru’s phone buzzes with calls from an unknown number and some from his father, but he silently ignores them all. This weekend is for him and Yuji and he won’t let him ruin that.

Their next stop is the Aoba castle, where they stand on the hill, taking in the breathtaking view of the city stretching below them. 

“Whoa, this place is bigger than I remember.” Yuji says, spinning around as he tries to take in everything. 

Satoru, with arms crossed, smirks. “Not bad, I guess. Though I do prefer my castles with a little bit more….flair.” 

Yuji raises an eyebrow. “You just want somewhere you can sit on a throne and act like a king.” 

Satoru grins. “Precisely.” 

They wander through the castle ruins, stopping by the statue of Date Masamune on horseback. Yuji insists they take pictures posing dramatically in front of it. 

“Okay, now do something cool.” Yuji says, holding his new phone up. 

Satoru flips his nonexistent long hair and strikes an exaggerated pose, “what do you mean Yuji? I’m always cool.” 

Yuji groans, “this was a mistake.” 

Next, they make their way to a shrine, where Yuji shows Satoru how to properly cleanse his hands at the purification fountain.

“Like this, see?” Yuji demonstrates, carefully cleansing his hands. 

Satoru watches with a certain level of amusement before trying to mimic him. “This feels like a lot of effort.” 

“It’s not effort Satoru, it’s called respect.” Yuji huffs, dragging him towards the praying area. 

They toss their coins in and clap their hands in unison, taking a bow, each making their wishes. When Yuji turns to leave, he notices Satoru still lingering for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. 

“What did you wish for?” Yuji asks as they walk away. 

Satoru shakes his head, “if I told you, it wouldn’t come true now would it?” 

They make a stop at a bakery so Satoru can cash in on his earlier victory from the arcade. He makes a selection of crepes, cakes; from cheesecakes, to rice cakes. There was no limit to his love of desserts. Yuji finds this to be concerning, but Satoru waves off his concerns. They pay and stuff their faces in all the sweet goodness the bakery had to offer. 

Yuji begs Satoru after to try their beef tongue referred to as Gyutan. A Sendai specialty. After much pleading and puppy dog eyes, they stop for lunch at a small restaurant to try it out. 

“Well? Well?” Yuji asks eagerly. 

Satoru chews slowly, eyes narrowing. Then with an exaggerated sigh says, “Fine. It’s good.”

Yuji beams. “Ha! Told you!”

“I still love the desserts more though.” Satoru retorts.

“Of course you would feel that way. You have a sweet tooth for everything.” 

Satoru smiles. “Not everything, only the sweetest of things.” He tries to wink but fails woefully. Yuji stares at him at his pathetic attempt at trying to be cool. 

They stumble into a bookstore after, where Yuji convinces Satoru to indulge in some of his favourite manga with him. 

They read a lot. Satoru is shocked to find Yuji has a particular liking for the romance genre. He raved about some making him emotional and he cried in secret about it. Satoru teases him about being a baby. But Yuji takes no offense. Muttering something about crying being a cleanser for the soul. 

As the sun starts to set, they make their final stop at an aquarium. They stand in front of the massive glass tank, watching jellyfish drift lazily in the blue-lit water. “It’s kinda peaceful isn’t it?” Yuji murmurs.

Satoru nods in agreement. “Yeah it is.” 

Yuji glances at him. “Can’t you stay longer?” He says, his voice wavering like he’s about to cry. Satoru senses a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yuji.” He pulls him into a hug. One hand cradles the back of his head, while the other runs up and down his back, attempting to smooth out the tension in his body. “I wish I could, but I can’t.” And there's not much else he can offer him. No other words or promises he can make that he hadn't already made. All he can offer is his pathetic attempt at soothing his worries. Holding him close and hoping he can convey his reluctance to leave as well. 

“I’m Sorry for  being a baby about this. I just…I guess I thought any amount of time is better than no time. But after the last two days. Having you here, having so much fun. I feel so sad it’s going to end.” 

“I know…me too.” Satoru responds. His voice quiets down. He resigns himself into his own inability to will the sadness away from Yuji.

“Oi, come on, let’s not end the day on such a somber note hm? “Let’s go back home, I have one more gift for you.” He says, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “ Your jiichan didn’t help with this one.” 

“Yuji pulls back, his eyes glistening with child-like wonder. “Really?” 

He’s so easy. Satoru thinks. 

“Yep. Come on, let's go.” Satoru takes his hand and leads them out of the aquarium 

They finally get back home, the house is quiet, save for the faint hum of the television playing in the living room.

They step inside and find Wasuke by the tv. “You brats are back. How was the tour?” he asks, sounding uninterested, but Satoru could tell he was far from it. 

“It was so much fun jiichan! I wish Satoru could stay forever. He says. His voice dropping its once chirpy tone into a sad one. He tears his gaze from his grandpa onto the floor. Satoru ruffles his hair, to stop him from sulking and spoiling the mood any further. 

Satoru sits on the arm of the couch. “He nearly dried me of all of my money jiichan.” He declares with a snarky tone. Wasuke whips his head to look at Yuji. 

“AH! It’s not true jiichan. I used some of my allowance too. I also bought some dessert for Satoru. Come on Satoru! Tell him, tell him you’re lying!” Yuji starts rushing towards Satoru, the urgency evident in his steps. Satoru stands and makes a run for it. Yuji chases him around the living room. 

“Oi you brats better not ruin my furniture with your prattling or you will pay for every damage from your pockets!” 

His threats fall on deaf ears as they run around, extending their chase to the rest of the house. Satoru makes a straight run into Yuji’s room, but he forgets his height and hits his head on the edge of the door–falling back into Yuji’s chest. 

“Caught you!” Yuji shouts, tickling Satoru mercilessly. Not sure what the expected outcome would be, but it turns out Satoru is ticklish.He falls swiftly to the floor laughing uncontrollably. 

“Stop it Yuji! Stop it!. It comes as a surprise to Satoru too–that he’s ticklish. After all, he had never been touched in this way. It takes every part of him not to fall apart from being tickled. “Okay I’m sorry I’m sorry Yuji! I’d tell him the truth, I swear!” 

Yuji finally relents and lets go. 

“But first let me give you the present I got you, yeah?” Satoru baits him into getting distracted. Looking smug, already knowing he will fall for it. 

“Fine. You can tell him later.” He beams. Yuji is always ready for presents, especially ones from Satoru. 

They head into the room and Satoru reaches for his backpack at the foot of the bed. He searches through the back zipper before pulling out a neatly wrapped package. “Here,” he says, handing it to Yuji. “It’s nothing big. I thought about buying you something really expensive. But then I remembered you don’t care much for money. I wanted to get you something special. Something you could keep with you for a long time.” 

Yuji blinks up at Satoru before staring down at the package. He swallows nervously before unwrapping it. Inside it is a scrapbook. Its cover is made of leather with stickers on it spelling: To Yuji, the best person I know. Underlined twice for emphasis. Below it Satoru’s unmistakable handwriting: I hope you never forget how important you are to me

Yuji looks visibly taken aback. He flips through the pages. The scrapbook is filed with small things—pieces of their friendship preserved. 

Letters, some Yuji sent to Satoru.

Each letter or item he put in that they exchanged over the last two and half years had a caption scribbled in its margins. 

This one made me laugh so hard I almost hit my head on my headboard

You misspelled continuous yet again dummy :D

Some pages had original drawings on them. Courtesy of Satoru. Drawing and imagining what they would look like if they ever met in person again. Rough drawings of Yuji’s stuffed face. Rough drawings of Yuji with a snotty nose. One of Satoru looking cool in sunglasses because god forbid he draws himself in anything other than being his coolest self. 

There were letters Satoru never sent out. His initial thoughts or excitement over some of Yuji’s gifts and letters. His frustration over them not being able to talk for more nights. His hopes that one day they wouldn’t have to be so apart anymore. 

Yuji turns to the last page and sees just one line written. 

Memories we finally created together.

The space, empty. 

Yuji looks up at Satoru. “Well we did spend the whole day out today and took a lot of pictures, so we can print those and add them on here. New memories and more to look forward to in the future.” he smiles.

Yuji stares back at the scrapbook for a long time. He swallows hard before gripping its edges and hugging the book to his chest. 

“You made all this yourself?” His voice, soft and tender.

Satoru looks down on the ground, shuffling his feet around. Too shy to look Yuji in the eye. Somehow having Yuji ask that made him realise how much time he dedicated to this. He suddenly felt too self aware. 

“… yeah…I did.” 

Yuji doesn’t say anything. He just moves without thinking, tackling Satoru into a hug. They both fall to the floor. 

Yuji nuzzles his head into Satoru’s neck. Not really saying anything. But Satoru can feel every emotion. He says nothing back too. He curls his hands around Yuji and hugs him closer. He didn’t think the gift was much. He could have bought better. But he’s happy that Yuji appreciates it. 

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. They all have dinner together. It’s lively and filled with warmth. Wasuke watches the boys with an amused smile. Yuji insists on showing off his new phone, taking awful pictures of everything everyone does. Taking ridiculous pictures of Satoru mid-bite, while Satoru retaliates by stealing Yuji’s food. 

They spend the rest of the night flipping through photo albums of Yuji’s childhood together, sneaking bites from the dessert they bought earlier without Wasuke noticing.

By the time they retreat back to Yuji’s room, the night feels too short. 

Laying side by side in bed, the room bathed in the glow of the moonlight, neither of them can bring themselves to sleep. 

“Satoru?” Yuji murmurs softly. “What are your parents like?”

Satoru stiffens before turning towards Yuji. “Why do you ask all of a sudden?” 

Yuji shrugs and turns towards Satoru too. “I don’t know. You just..you never talk about them. At least you don’t say much. You don’t have to but I just feel like there’s a part of you I can’t reach sometimes.” Yuji explains. 

Satoru admits he is right. He purposely doesn’t like talking about them. He never has anything nice to say about his family and being friends with Yuji gives him the complete opposite feeling when he’s with him. He likes to keep both worlds separate. But after spending the weekend at Yuji’s place, in Yuji’s world–even just a glimpse of it, he’s starting to feel like maybe sharing that side of himself wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

He takes a deep breath before he speaks. “My father…he’s the leader of our family clan. Well it’s more like a family business enterprise, but a lot of it falls on his shoulders and by proxy my shoulders since I’m his heir. He’s…strict, business focused and I’m pretty sure he hates my guts.” He lifts his gaze unto Yuji’s, searching, not sure what for, but he isn’t met with any judgement so he continues. 

“My mother is a bit more complicated. My whole life…well at least up until recently, I was sure she hated me. I guess that was half true. But it turns out her disdain for my father was projected onto me. She’s…beautiful. There’s a certain grace to her that I’ve never seen in anyone else. I resented her my whole life for how she treated me. She wasn’t even cruel, but in some ways she was worse because she treated me like I didn’t exist. But recently we spoke and she apologised and she wants to be better to me.” He finishes off with a slight smile. Thinking back on their conversation. It’s the only reason why he doesn’t totally detest the idea of going back home because now things will be different between them. It will be a little more bearable.

“I’m sorry about that Satoru. I guess I kind of envied you a little bit.” Yuji admits quietly.

Satoru blinks, “Envied? Envied what?”

“I used to imagine what my life would be like if I had both my parents. It doesn’t really get to me most times. I love my jiichan and I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else. But sometimes I think about them. I guess it makes me feel a bit guilty that I feel jealous of other people with theirs and also guilty that saying that makes it seem like jiichan isn’t enough.

Satoru places a comforting hand  on Yuji’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with imagining. I imagine, all the time. I envy, all the time too. It’s a human response to craving things we feel we can’t have. But how you deal with it is what matters. I know you love your jiichan. Even a blind man can see that. So don’t feel scared of craving things once in a while. It’s natural.”

Yuji nods in acceptance. “I guess we all have our own struggles huh? But I’m glad I have you and Jiichan.” He says with a bright smile on his face. 

Satoru ruffles his hair and places his forehead on Yuji’s. “I’m glad I have you too.” 

Time passes and before long the gentle caress of sleep comes for them. 

The next morning arrives too soon.

They are at the train station to drop Satoru off. It’s filled with chimes of announcements and hums of voices but the only one Satoru focuses on is chattering out from the pink haired boy right in front of him.

“...Also don’t forget to text me when you can. Remember I have my own phone now.”

Satoru grins, his bag swung over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, as he tries to act nonchalant about having to leave. “Don’t worry Yuji I will. Don’t want you crying all over town from missing me too much.” 

Yuji scowls. “As if!” He tries to ruffle Yuji’s hair but he bats his hand away in jest. 

The call for his train echoes through the station and they both look at each other. 

It’s time. 

Wasuke places a hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Thank you again for coming, kid, and know you’re welcome back anytime.

Satoru nods, feeling a lump in his throat. He turns to Yuji one last time. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll see you again soon.” 

Yuji’s eyes glistening with tears nods at him and they wave each other goodbye. 

Satoru steps onto the train. As the doors close, he catches one more glimpse of Yuji waving at him before the train moves. Before long, Sendai fades into the distance. 

                                                                            ~

Two trains and hours later Satoru is back on kyoto soil. The fresh scenery of Sendai is still vivid in his memories. He takes a taxi back home.

The moment Satoru steps back into his house, something feels…off.

The air is heavier. The atmosphere,tense. The servants are back, and they glance at him with weary eyes before quickly looking away.

His stomach tightens. 

And then–

“Satoru.”

His father’s voice cuts through the silence, cold and strict. 

“We need to talk.” 

Chapter Text

“We need to talk.” 

The words cut through the air like a blade and a heavy silence follows.

Satoru hesitates for a fraction of a second before forcing himself to meet his father’s gaze. He holds it, if only to mask the quiet dread pooling in his chest.

For one, his father was back way ahead of schedule. He was meant to be in Tokyo, tending to business matters. Instead, he’s here, standing in the living room as if he planned this moment down to the time of his arrival. It feels like an ambush. Like he knew. On the other hand, he can’t help but think there is something worse still to come from this.

Satoru swallows. He keeps his tone light, feigning nonchalance. “How come you’re back home so soon?” 

His mind is racing at impossible speeds. Trying to come up with every possible rebuttal to whatever his father throws at him. He’s ready to lie his way out of this if he has to.

“There was an accident.”

His father states plainly, like he’s narrating a stock report. No real emotion to his voice, no hesitation. 

The statement echoes in Satoru’s mind. Accident?...

 It’s then Satoru realises slowly but surely the giant size absence of a looming figure he had gotten used to always seeing in the corner–the silhouette of his mother, which he could always easily make out anywhere in a room, was nowhere to be found. 

His breath tightens in his throat. “Where is mother?”

 His voice trembles despite himself.

His father exhales, as if the conversation itself is a minor inconvenience.

“There was an accident…she’s in a hospital in Tokyo. The doctors…” He pauses for a moment, before delivering the next words with the same detached finality. "They are not sure if she’s going to wake up.” 

A ringing sound reverberates through Satoru’s eardrums. Like they were protecting themselves from hearing the news. He hears the slush of blood pumping loudly through the vessels in his head. He wants it to stop, he needs it to stop. 

She was just here. She was just—

His father stands allowing the silence to stretch, watching him. Letting the weight of the news settle.

Satoru struggles to process, to make sense of it, while his voice finally breaks through the haze.

“What do you…what do you mean by they aren’t sure she’s going to wake up. What happened!? You were both just here. She was just here!” He receives no response until—

A sharp cackling sound thunders through the house, echoing off the walls. It takes Satoru a moment to register that the sound is coming directly from his father. A visceral anger rides through satoru’s being, coiling in his chest, hot and all consuming. The dissonance between his father’s reaction and the severity of the topic being discussed is so jarring, it nearly knocks the air from his lungs. 

“You’re laughing?” Satoru’s voice is low, dangerous. “Please enlighten  me father, what could possibly be so amusing about my mother’s condition?”  His anger, now more palpable than it had ever been. 

His father’s mirth fades, but the amusement lingers in his cold stare. “I just think it’s ironic,” he muses, voice light with cruel mockery, “how you have the time to be concerned about your mother now— after missing multiple calls the past few days while she was trying to reach you. While she was calling on you.” He leans in slightly into Satoru’s space. “But I suppose you were too busy running around Sendai with that wretched boy.” 

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock and his stomach drops. The first waves of a panic attack hit him. Did his mother tell on him? Did he slip up somewhere?  No he couldn’t possibly have. He was careful. He made sure to leave no traces behind. So…how? 

“Wha—-how?” He asks, his voice frail and concerned. The walls of fortitude he tried to put up to conceal his secrets slowly crumbling down. 

His father scoffs, shaking his head. “Did you think I would just leave you in Kyoto all by yourself with no supervision?  That I wouldn’t have my eyes on you?” He chuckles darkly. “ To think, my own son,  going all the way to another city for a boy who can offer you nothing. While your mother got hurt, while she needed you.” His expression sharpens, voice dipping into something colder. “And instead, you were wasting time, frolicking around with a frail old man and his bastard grandson.” 

The vestiges of restraint Satoru had left in him finally snaps. The sheer visceral need to make his father stop tears through his capacity for rationality and before he can give pause to reason, his vision tunnels, blood roaring in his ears and then his fist collides with his father’s face. 

Then again

And again. 

All he sees is red. No thought. No hesitation. Just pure, unfiltered rage.

The news about his mother, but worst of all the disrespect and disregard with which his father treated the news and his insult to Yuji and his grandpa. He couldn’t deal with it. 

A few of the staff try to rush towards Satoru to ward him off his father. But Seiki Gojo orders them to stop. Waving them back to allow Satoru to get it all out. 

He lets him hit him, again and again.

He welcomes it.

Satoru freezes, panting, fists trembling, only now registering the blood smeared across his knuckles.

His father, still pinned on the floor beneath him, slowly straightens his posture. He wipes his fingers across the corner of his mouth where blood has begun to seep out from his split lip. And then, he smiles.

“That’s it Satoru, that’s the viciousness I knew you were always capable of.” 

A cold dread trickles down Satoru’s spine.

 He stares at his fist, battered and bruised. Painted with the blood of his father. The idea that this is what his father wants from him draws a slow reaction of fear and disgust.  

He scrambles off his father, distancing himself as if to physically shake off his father’s influence. 

This isn’t him. This isn’t who he wants to be and he will not give his father the satisfaction of becoming the version of him he’s been trying to mold for years. 

While he’s lost in thought, his father laughs again, low and menacing.

“It’s really pathetic, how the mere mention of the truth about that boy gets you all riled up. To think you would finally have any other reaction other than nonchalance or petulance over someone like him is truly a surprise. I suppose I underestimated how much he means to you.” 

Satoru’s lower lip gets cut by his teeth. He bites down so hard it almost draws blood—trying to will away his anger for his father. “How do you know about Yuji?” 

“ A friend who was helping you with math ”, or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with back then.” He scoffs. “You really thought I would accept that with no further investigation. I’ve always known about him, Satoru. Just like I am meticulous with my work and company, the same applies to my family. This family, this business isn’t just some pass time where you decide when and what you get to contribute. This is your future! My legacy! And I will be foot first in the grave before I let you tarnish all that I’ve built. Including hanging around with that boy.” 

Anger flickers through Satoru’s veins again. He hates the way his father speaks about Yuji. Like he’s some object, a ball of distraction to be used and discarded and all for what? For a family business he cares so little for. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m just not cut out to lead the family business? You’ve never once asked me what I want to do or who I want to be. It’s only ever ‘do this or do that’ and it’s exhausting.” He blurts out, finally tired of pretending to be civil. 

Satoru’s father stands up, dusting himself off. He takes slow, deliberate steps towards Satoru as he responds, “well, son , unfortunately for you, your interests are the least of my concerns. You are a Gojo!” His voice, firm and absolute. “Your wants and needs will always be secondary to what is necessary. It’s how things have always been. Your duty, your responsibility will always belong to the business first.” 

They are face to face now, Satoru unwilling to budge to his father’s intimidating presence, but a trickle of fear flares through him nonetheless. He feels trapped, like a caged animal, like something inside him is being systematically crushed under the weight of his father’s expectations.

His father exhales, as if the conversation has reached its natural conclusion. He continues on.“I let you speak and befriend that boy for as long as you have because I needed the right time and right motivation to get you back on track. It’s a shame your mother is in the hospital. But nevertheless, it’s as good a time as any. We are moving to Tokyo.”

He straightens his cuffs, like this is just another business transaction.

“The meetings went well and we will be expanding the family business as planned. We will relocate closer to your mother’s hospital. As for your relationship with the boy and his grandpa, I suggest you end it now, unless you want to see how far I’m willing to go to ensure you follow my rules.” His gaze turns sharp and final.

Satoru stiffens. His heart stutters in his chest. 

“You can play the rebel all you like, Satoru.” his father says, voice edged with warning. “But if you don’t listen to me, if you so much as try to go against me, I promise you, I’ll make sure that boy and his grandfather suffer the consequences. So whatever you have to do to end it, do so immediately. I cannot afford to have you stay this distracted.”

His words land like a death sentence.

Satoru’s hands shake at his sides. His breath is shallow, his mind racing, grasping for any way out of this. 

But there is none. He’s still just a kid. Nothing more, nothing less. His father has more power, more connections. In as much as he wants to call his bluff. He knows his father. Knows how far he can go if he wants to get his way.

He thinks of soft pink hair, easy smiles.

He can’t afford to watch him get hurt. But in order to do that, Satoru has to hurt him.

Seiki Gojo smiles, finally sensing Satoru’s resignation.

“Good,” he pats his shoulder, like he’s already won. “I knew you’d make the right choice.”

And just like that, a part of the boy he used to be, who found warmth in the company of a bright eyed kid from Sendai–begins to fade. 

It’s not odd for Satoru to not call Yuji sometimes. After all, over the past few years, the frequency of their calls dwindled down significantly, for reasons he still never quite understood. But Satoru never says or does anything with no good reason, so he chose to believe him.

But it’s been a full ten days since Satoru left Sendai for Kyoto. He had texted him to find out if he arrived safely, but he didn’t get a reply. 

Jiichan had told him to let Satoru be. Satoru is in high school , he said. He probably has more homework than you.

Yuji did not believe that, but he also didn’t want to fight with his grandpa, so he let it be.

But now, laying on his bed, staring at his phone, which he was so over the moon to finally acquire–suddenly doesn’t feel so worth it. 

The whole point of getting the phone was so he could finally talk to Satoru whenever he wanted. But he hasn’t even replied to his texts. And Yuji’s patience is just about done. 

He exhales slowly, thumb hovering over the phone “Okay! I’m just gonna call him. I’ve waited long enough like a good boy.” he declares.

He dials Satoru’s number. 

It rings. And rings. And rings.

The voicemail.

Yuji frowns, he tries again. 

Straight to voicemail this time.

His fingers tighten around his phone. That’s weird. He knows he might be busy, but he at least should have his phone on him by this time.

Yuji sits up. His chest feels tight.

He calls again and again and again, but still—nothing.

His patience wears thin. He pulls up the text message again and types.

Yuji: Satoru! Answer the phone. 

Read at 22:42 pm 

His heart jumps–but no reply comes. 

Yuji stares at the screen, pulse pounding in his ears. He doesn't understand. Satoru saw it. He saw it. But he still won’t answer. 

Denial slowly creeps in. Maybe he’s just…avoiding texts? Maybe he’s in trouble at school or got his phone taken away. But that doesn’t explain why he wouldn’t just say so. Or why he let ten days pass without a word.

Yuji tries again,

Yuji: Satoru, Just tell me what’s going on. Did I do something wrong? If I did pls tell me, I’ll apologise. Just pls don’t ignore me anymore. 

Read at 22:45 pm.

Still no reply. Yuji grits his teeth. His hands start to shake. Frustration, confusion and hurt swirl in his chest. 

Satoru never ignores him. Never. Even if they argue sometimes, they always make sure to make up immediately. So this was beyond odd. 

Yuji swallows, staring at his phone like he can will an answer out of it. He wants to believe there’s a reason. There has to be a reason.

Because if there isn’t…

Then that means–

No. He shoves his phone under his pillow, forcing himself to lie down. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. But as he stares at the ceiling, his chest aches in a way he’s never felt before.

Days after that, Yuji made failed attempts at getting through to Satoru. Even using his grandpa’s phone to reach out, but still no answer. 

Maybe Yuji should take a hint and let go. Maybe Satoru is going through something he can’t really explain to Yuji. But for the past three years, Satoru had become ingrained into his very being. He cannot imagine a world without him in it. So for him to let go so easily….

He can’t. 

He’s ready to keep trying until he gets an answer, any kind of answer.

He finally does. But not the kind he was anticipating.

It’s a friday night, Yuji just finished dinner, he bids his grandpa goodnight. Washes up to get ready for bed when he hears a notification go off. 

He knows with certainty it can only be one person. It’s the only other number aside from his grandpa's there. 

His heart races. After weeks of silence. Satoru was finally ready to stop playing hide and seek. 

He reaches for the phone and turns it on. He’s elated and ready for them to have a long talk, while Satoru begs for his forgiveness, but instead he finds a single text saying

Satoru (My best friend in the world): Stop texting and calling me, it’s getting annoying.

Yuji’s heart drops. 

He wonders, Is this text meant for me? Maybe he sent it to the wrong number. 

But the words are right there. They are real, burning into his retinas, sinking stones in his stomach. 

He doesn’t understand.

Why?

Why is Satoru saying this?

His fingers tremble as he types.

Yuji: What? 

Yuji: Satoru, what re u talking about?

Yuji: Just call me, ok? Pls.

Nothing. No response.

Yuji’s chest tightens. He needs to hear his voice, needs to understand. His hands move on their own, dialing before he can stop himself.

It rings, and he holds his breath.

Ring.

Come on

Ring. Please Satoru.

The call connects.

Yuji sits up so fast on his bed that his head spins. Satoru is there. He picked up. But he doesn’t say anything.

For a few unbearable seconds, there’s only silence.

Yuji swallows hard. “Satoru?” 

Still nothing. But he knows Satoru is there. He can hear the faintest breath on the other end.

“Satoru, what’s going on? Yuji’s voice wavers. “Why are you saying this?”

There’s a brief silence, then–

“We can’t be friends anymore.”

The words cut deeper than a blade.

Yuji flinches, gripping his phone tighter. He must have misheard. He has to be misunderstanding.

“What?” His voice comes out small and weak. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s over Yuji. We had fun but that phase of my life is over now.” Satoru says, tone flat. Cold. Unfamiliar.

Yuji shakes his head. “But–why? Did I do something?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything.

Yuji’s breath quickens. “Satoru, just–just talk to me. If I did something wrong, tell me! I swear I’ll fix it.”

Still, nothing. 

Yuji grips the phone like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. “Please,” he whispers, “Please don’t leave me.”

Finally Satoru speaks. But his voice is still emotionless. “This is for the best. For both our sakes.”

It doesn’t sound like him.

Yuji doesn’t realize he’s shaking until a choked breath escapes him. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say to me?” His voice cracks. “You just get to decide we aren’t friends anymore? Just like that?” 

He blinks rapidly, his eyes burning. He clenches his jaw trying to keep his voice steady, but it’s slipping.

“You’re lying,” he says, almost desperate. “You don’t mean it, Satoru!” 

“Goodbye Itadori.”

Click.

The call ends. 

Yuji stares at his screen, the empty silence on the other end crushes him.

He calls again but it doesn’t go through. Once, twice. Five more times.

Nothing.

Satoru is gone.

He stops trying to call. Instead, he lets the phone slip from his fingers, landing somewhere near his pillow. His arms wrap around himself as he curls up on his side, chest tight, his throat burning with heat of rejection and heartbreak.

It’s stupid. It’s so, so stupid. But the tears come anyway.

Hot and silent at first. Then harder, rougher until his shoulders shake, and he has to press his face into the sheets that still smell like a mix of his and Satoru’s scents,to muffle the sound. He doesn’t want to wake his grandpa. Doesn’t need to hear his reassurances and excuses.

Because no excuse could possibly explain the way Satoru’s voice sounded. So cold and distant. Like Yuji had never meant anything to him. That was what hurt him the most.

He cries and cries until eventually exhaustion pulls him under. His body feels heavy, he falls into a slumber thinking of Satoru’s arms around him. Just like when he was here. Like nothing has changed. Like this isn’t the loneliest he’s ever felt.

Somewhere in another city, in a different house, a boy stares at his own phone, the messages still glowing on the screen before he turns it off completely.

And for the first time in his life, he presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, but they do not stop the flow of tears that burst through. His pain and sorrow muffled into his pillows.

He cries himself to sleep. Dreaming of cherry blossoms and a happier reality. 

Chapter Text

MAY 2018

There’s something to be said about the swiftness  with which the path Yuji is bolting through currently, has become so familiar to him. 

The sun, already showing signs of going to rest. The sky dyed with the hues of gold and crimson.

The rugged cracks on the path as he runs. The brashness of the wind leaves its mark on his face, while it bellows under his clothes, sending a slight shiver down his spine. His legs hurt from meandering all day in school, running laps during P.E and trying to be an active member of his new occult club. But he has no time to acknowledge any of these inconveniences. He’s running late….too late. 

He was only supposed to spend an hour at the school club. But ended up getting surprisingly too invested in it and now he’s not sure he’s going to make it to visiting hours at the hospital. 

Of course he could have still made it a bit earlier, if his incessant need to purchase flowers for every visit didn’t outweigh his necessity to be on time. 

He’s banking on his very well crafted relationship with the nurses on duty today to buy him at least a couple extra minutes before closing time. 

Making it through the entrance of the hospital. He makes a quick stop at the nurses station to talk them into giving him more time. 

He’s geared up with flowers and some of their favourite chocolates. Ready to placate, ready to appeal to their weakness for his puppy dog eyes. Which usually works…as long as nurse Shiori wasn’t around. 

Not that he has anything against her, but she always seemed to be out to get him. In many odd ways, she was reminiscent of his grandfather. Defiant, a little mean, with the toughness of an oak tree. He’s not sure how different she is on the inside. But so far, there’s been no indication of underlying softness or taking a liking to him. So for the sake of his sanity, and hers, avoidance is the only solution. 

And thankfully today, she’s not around. 

Operation sway the nurses is a success and he beelines for the target room. 

His grandfather’s room. 

Making his way to his room is nauseating. It always is. From the suffocating smell of the lingering antiseptic smell; to the beeping of heart monitors. A trail of hopelessness. A shadow of death, lingering, waiting for its next prey. 

Navigating the illness of Wasuke Itadori had not come without its challenges. 

Dealing with seeds of a broken heart, Yuji had been unprepared for the news that death was dancing silently in his grandfather’s shadow. 

The man who meant everything to him. The only one who ever stayed. 

He’d found out about his sickness by accident. Walking in on his grandpa talking to the hospital about his cancer diagnosis when Yuji just turned thirteen. He’d pretended not to hear it. Whisking himself away from the entrance of the living room back to his room. Shutting the door, crawling under the covers and shutting his eyes. Praying that he had heard wrong. 

But he hadn’t. 

It was difficult to not notice after the fact. His ever thinning frame, the chronic coughing that sometimes came with blood on discarded tissues in the garbage, expertly wrapped and hidden by his grandpa. The loss of appetite, night sweats. There was no denying it, something was awfully wrong with his grandpa. 

And so he had to have the conversation. 

The realisation that his grandpa had been dying right in front of his eyes with no way for Yuji to help him ate him alive. 

He was all he had left. Especially after….

Getting to the front of the room, Yuji attempts to catch his breath and fix himself. Using his hands to straighten out the collar of his jacket, and setting the flowers right. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, feeling the slight wetness caused by all his running. He doesn’t want to give his grandpa any more reason to nag. 

He goes in. 

It’s never easy. 

The parallel between his grandpa’s pale ashy skin and the drab walls of faded yellow surrounding the room. Everything in the room looks dull. Save for the flowing pristine white of the curtains, dancing to the tune of the wind. 

He hates seeing him here. He had argued against it when his grandpa had refused to take treatment to help manage his illness. Resigning himself to getting stuck in the hospital, bed ridden, alone. Yuji hated having to be alone at home. The quiet of the house ate at his core, gnawing at his chest when he’d crawl into his grandpa’s bed at night, seeking his warmth and would find none. 

The realisation of the inevitability of his impending loss scares him. But he hates to think about it. He’s not the one in physical pain so why does he—

“You brat, shouldn’t you be at your school club?!!” Wasuke yells out. Ever ready to nag at Yuji no matter the circumstance. 

Yuji ignores him and walks over to the window panes. Sighting the old flower vases which need replacing. 

“You don’t need to keep bringing flowers here, you know? I don’t need them and I don’t like seeing you in this kind of place.” He harps on with a slight irritation to his voice. 

Yuji sighs while he replaces the old flowers with the new ones, taking his time to fill up the vases with fresh water for them. “The flowers aren’t even for you, they are for the nurses so quit complaining jiichan.”  

He doesn’t mean to come off rude, but he hates when his grandpa asks him to be anywhere else but here. Where else could he possibly be? Who else could he possibly want to be with? The questions plague Yuji’s mind, but he makes no attempt to bring them up. His grandpa is already going through enough as is. The pain, the isolation. 

They exist in silence for a while. Yuji sets up the flowers, airs out the room, and changes out his tea cup, replacing its content with freshly brewed tea he packed from home. 

All the while he feels his grandpa’s eyes linger on him. Watching every movement like a hawk. Clearly wanting to say a lot but making no move to utter any of them. Watching, waiting. 

Yuji hates it. 

He makes a sharp turn towards his grandpa, the heavy fiery intensity of his gaze bores into Wasuke’s very core. If looks had lasers, he’d probably have made a hole through his face. 

“Just spit it out Jiichan. Whatever it is….just say it already.” His indignation made clear from the rough delivery of his voice. 

There’s a distance between them, both physically and metaphorically. Yuji still lingering by the window side, Wasuke at the far end of the room on his inclined hospital bed. 

“How’s your new school going? Make any friends yet?” Wasuke asks, his voice sounding unfamiliar to Yuji. Tinged with intonations he’s not used to hearing from him. 

He hates it. 

“I have no interest in that Jiichan.” Yuji mutters, his voice comes out sharper than he intends. His eyes draw down to his feet, avoiding his grandpa’s gaze— afraid the old man might search too deeply and uncover a truth Yuji wasn’t even sure he understood himself. 

“This again ... .is it still—“ Yuji looks up at his grandpa, eyes intense and almost cold, cutting him off. 

Wasuke sits up straighter. He coughs a little causing Yuji to panic, but he waves him off before he can rush to his side. 

“Listen to me, Yuji.” He starts, his voice sounding a little cracked, most likely worn out from laying down all day. There is a shift in the atmosphere. A seriousness that forces Yuji to turn all his attention to him. “I’m not going to be here forever. We’ve avoided having the hard conversations but we have to talk about it. I won’t be long now, and I don’t want to have to worry about you even in the afterlife.” He smiles a little. He adjusts himself on the bed again and a slightly pained look emerges on his face. 

“Jiichan maybe you should rest some more we don’t have to—” Yuji moves, reaching for the remote control of his bed, wanting to adjust it to get him back in bed.

Wasuke holds his hand up to him. “It’s alright, I’m okay. This is important, Yuji.” he coughs slightly again, but pushes forward anyway. “These past few years, I let you be…ever since that boy left.”

Yuji’s shoulders stiffen, his eyes darting toward the floor again. 

The unspoken conversation. Three years, three years since Satoru called him that night, three years since Yuji had been left in the dark with no explanation of what he did wrong. 

Three years since Satoru deemed him unworthy of his time. 

“It’s fine Jiichan...I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not, you haven’t been for a while.” Wasuke carries on. “I didn’t want to bring it up, but I should have. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t be carrying around whatever happened between you two around this long. You shut yourself off, Yuji. And I get it, I get that it was different to you, that friendship was your first, it was important…but I can’t leave you like this.” 

Yuji swallows hard, his vision blurring a bit, the sting of tears clinging to his eyes like pins pricking his skin. “I don’t know what you want me to say Jiichan. He left me, just like everyone always does. Just like you’re about to.” He’s not fast enough to stop himself from saying the last sentence. He immediately regrets it, but he looks at his grandpa and finds no offense taken. He continues. “I just..I just don’t want to lose anyone else. It feels easier this way.

Wasuke lets out a small laugh, it comes out hoarse and broken. “Losing people is part of what makes life worth living, Yuji. Locking yourself up, not interacting with other people from fear of losing them is not a life worth living. It’s not easier that way. Don’t waste your heart like I did. Don’t go through life thinking being alone is all you can amount to just because someone left you.”

Yuji’s breath hitches. “But what if…what if it happens again?” 

“It will,” his grandpa says honestly. “People will always leave. People die, it’s inevitable; it’s natural. But you still have to live your life. You still have to meet people. Laugh, make more friends, fall in love. Don’t let his absence be the shadow you decide to live in forever.” 

For a long time, Yuji does not speak. His throat burns with the sordid need to cry. 

For so long he tried to push the hurt of losing Satoru. He has been scared to get close to anyone else again.

He is no longer that twelve year old boy who clinged to his phone, hoping that Satoru would someday call and apologise. Call and tell him it was just a silly prank, a silly prank that went on too long.

The first couple of weeks were filled with jars of hope, hope that maybe whatever happened would be resolved and Satoru would be back. Weeks turned to months, months turned to years. 

Three years.

And now at fifteen he is no longer tethered to that version of himself that waited every night for a message. His phone stashed away, its use no longer known. Their letters and gifts, stored deep and far away somewhere in his bedroom. 

All that remains is the Yuji now, sitting beside his grandpa, scared of the new world that awaits him without him. A world where Yuji will finally truly be utterly alone and it hurts enough to make him want to crawl up and cry. 

It becomes apparent to Wasuke too. “Oi, none of that now. You’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. So, promise me you’ll do as I say?”

Yuji tilts his head backwards and says nothing. He’s long since learned to not make promises he wasn’t sure he would keep. But in his heart he promises to try. 

Wasuke smiles, a part of him knowing what Yuji’s silence entails. Feeling satisfied, he turns to the other side of the bed and says, “an insolent brat till the very end.” 

***

Later that night when Yuji gets home, he’s preparing some dinner to eat. Carefully dicing and cutting every necessary ingredient with careful intent. The house is suffocating with its silence, save for the sound of pots and his chopping. 

He mulls over his conversation with his grandpa. Allows himself to entertain the idea of carrying out his request, when the sharp ring of the landline cuts through his thoughts. It’s a call from the hospital.

“Hello? Yuji Itadori speaking.” 

There’s a pregnant pause over the phone. He understands. No words truly needed. The static silence on the other end is enough information. 

His grandfather has passed away, and in that moment Yuji knew, nothing will ever be the same again. 

He slumps on the floor and sheds tears. Ugly, gasping sobs tear from his chest, years of grief come crashing down on him.He cries for yet another loss. He cries for the version of himself that may no longer exist.

***

By morning time, his eyes are raw and puffy, but he has no time to deal with that. He has to make his way over to the hospital. There is no one else there to do it, to lay his grandpa to rest.

When he arrives at the hospital, the nurses all greet him with a soft sad smile. Their gentle voices guide him through the paperwork. To his surprise, nurse Shiori comes over and pats his back, sending him her sympathies. He receives it with grace. 

He keeps the funeral simple and traditional. Incense burns low as he lowers himself at the altar. There isn’t anyone else in attendance. Just him. It eats at him how isolated his grandfather had been. How empty his funeral seems. But he stills his resolve. Finds comfort in his grandpa having him at least.  His eyes flicker to his photo above the altar. He remembers when they both went to get the picture taken. 

Wasuke had been reluctant to smile the whole time.  

“Do you want people thinking you were a grumpy old man up until you kicked the bucket Jiichan?” Yuji had asked grumpily. 

“This is just for me you brat, none of that matters.” He’d snorted back at Yuji. “Besides, none of that would be noticed, they’d be too busy wondering how I was able to keep a full head of hair till the very end.” 

Yuji burst out laughing. Caught off guard by his cockiness. “Yes jiichan, because that’s the most important thing right now.” 

Wasuke smiled, and the flash of the camera flickers across the room. 

The memory brings a soft smile to Yuji’s face. “It did matter, Jiichan, because now I get to see your smile like this.” He whispers to himself. 

The cremation happens after. He does not cry this time. He picks up the bone fragments with chopsticks, the weight of each piece felt through his finger tips. 

He’s just about done picking the fragments up and placing them in a jar when a man comes in. 

He’s tall, dressed in a suit and wearing a pair of glasses. “Are you Itadori Yuji?” 

Yuji nods, blinking in confusion. 

The man hands him a sealed envelope, carefully wrapped. “Your grandfather…he asked me to give this to you under the condition of his passing. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Yujii stares at the envelope, before taking it with trembling hands. He wonders what it could possibly be about, but decides to open it up when he gets home instead. 

The man in the suit bows slightly before taking his leave, leaving Yuji alone again with nothing but his thoughts. 

When all is said and done, later that night, he arrives back to his empty home, Every corner of it reminds him of his grandfather. The smell, the pictures on the wall, his shoes still neatly placed at the genkan. His absence wounds Yuji deeply. 

He walks through the house straight to his room. The only corner of the house almost devoid of his grandpa’s presence. The only place he can currently find solace. He gets to his room and flops on his bed, laying flat on his back. His gaze finds the ceiling as he wanders away.

Grief has never been Yuji’s strong suit. Certainly not dealing with it head on. He never met his parents, he never had the opportunity to truly miss them. But Wasuke was in many ways his mother and father. His foundation. The first person Yuji saw everyday, and the last one right before sleep found him. His beginning and end. But now that anchor is gone and he feels like a boat going adrift looking for shore. The pain of his loss ricochets through his body, ripping another cry from him. 

He cries for what seems like hours until exhaustion drags out a deep seethed need for food from him. He realises he hasn’t had anything to eat since last night. 

He stands to make his way to the kitchen, but remembers the envelope in his pocket and takes it out. 

It’s very clearly addressed to him, so there’s no way it could be fake. He opens it up slowly, being careful not to rip it up. When he pulls it out he opens it to find a letter, his grandfather’s handwriting clearly displayed on it addressed to him.

Yuji, 

I hope when you get this letter you aren’t still moping around crying about my death. You know I’m not much for too many words and there’s a lot I should have said when I was around. But you know how stubborn you are, so maybe this would be the only way you’d listen.

I’ve been saving up enough money for the past few years. You’re meant for much more than this town. You are strong…not just in body but in your heart. I know things haven’t always been good, and I wasn’t able to fix everything, but I wanted to give you this one thing if it was the last thing I did.

There’s a school in Tokyo called Jujutsu Tech. They take gifted kids like yourself and help further their talents. I’ve seen how fast you are, so fast it almost seems like you’re running from something. Don’t think for a second I’m not aware you joined that occult club because it ends earlier than the sports club, just so you could come visit me. Always putting others before yourself, tsk.

 But I’ve seen how good you are and you don’t have to dream small. You shouldn’t have to keep your talents hidden. There’s a spot waiting for you for track and field, all paid for, ready for your transfer. 

Go out there, do your best, live your life to the fullest and be happy. 

Don’t end up like me, old, bitter, and stuck in one place forever.

–Jiichan. 

He stares at the words, his throat tightening and eyes wide with disbelief realising how observant the old man was without Yuji knowing.

Track and field , he thinks. He wouldn’t call it a passion of his, but it’s something he’s good at–-great at even, but he never considered making a life or career out of it. 

He contemplates it throughout the night. Tossing and turning in his bed, sleep, a stranger to him now. 

“Go out there, do your best, live your life to the fullest and be happy.” The words repeat over and over in his head. 

People talk a lot about happiness, its existence or lack thereof and Yuji isn’t sure he’s seen what true happiness is. He’s had moments of unbridled joy, short lived excitement and laughter. He’s not sure how exactly to go about this happiness his grandpa speaks of. But he loves him and he wants to at least try.

“Tokyo huh?” he whispers to himself. It’s going be hard because he doesn’t know anyone there, but maybe there is more to the world than just Sendai. Perhaps trying life in a different space is exactly what he needs.

“...Alright Jiichan, I’ll give it a try.” He says to himself and to his grandpa–perhaps out of wishful thinking that somewhere out there, he’s watching over him.

JUNE 2018

Preparing everything necessary for his move to Tokyo doesn’t take much. His grandpa thankfully took care of a lot of the paper work in terms of ownership of property and upkeep money for Yuji. All he had left to do was inform his school of his transfer and speak to the members of his occult club that he would no longer be able to accompany them to questionable places. 

He’s surprised to find that they are a bit sad about his departure. His experiences with connections throughout his elementary and middle school years were ones of distant stares and untrue rumours. Not that they never bothered him, but he learned to live with it for the sake of his grandpa. 

They ask him to keep in touch if he can, he smiles and says he’ll try, making sure to mostly smile and nod—to not make promises he’s not sure he can keep.

The next few days consist of him packing his bags and organizing his transfer papers. He contacts the school and Tokyo and informs them of his confirmation of attendance. He signs up for the boarding rooms on campus to save money on finding private housing. 

Getting to the train station, he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia. White hair, cheeky smiles, small talk, warm hands, untrue promises—it all feels like a blur. He remembers how sad he was letting go. How excited he was to get home and send his first text. He remembers how disappointing it all ended.  

There is no one here to wave him goodbye. No familiar voice beside him reassuring him of anything, just the echoes of voices of strangers around him and the steady beat of his own heart. But he shakes his head as if to physically wave off any doubts he has left. Tokyo was a new beginning. Just what he needs to let go of the past, to find his happiness.

And so, without much fanfare, he gets on his train and slowly watches as Sendai fades into the background. 

***

By the time he arrives in Tokyo, Yuji feels like he’s landed in another world entirely.

The vibe of Tokyo is totally different from Sendai, the air is different, the streets are buzzing with life. Everywhere he looks, there is something new to discover. The buildings are so much taller. If anyone paid attention to him now, they would absolutely know he was a first day baby of Tokyo—his country bumpkin wide eyed look ever apparent. If he wasn’t excited before, he definitely was now.

It doesn’t take long for him to snap out of it. He had to make his way to the school to get settled in first. 

He takes a taxi, which turns out can’t go as far into the school area as he expected. The school is further out—tucked away behind layers of old stone walls and traditional gates; almost very easy to miss if you aren’t really looking for it.

He sees the plaque at the entrance of the school “Jujutsu Technical High Tokyo.” The name sounds fancy, a bit overwhelming for someone like him. But he squares his shoulders and walks on ahead. 

He makes his way in and is immediately taken by the beauty of the school. It definitely looked prestigious, but also maintained a lot of its traditional architectural elements, giving it a very grounded feel. He makes his way to what he believes to be the front desk office to hand in his papers and ask for instructions. 

There are a few people walking around the school while he tries to find the front office. No one seems to notice his odd presence and he’s thankful for it.

When he finds the front desk he’s led to the principal’s office immediately. He’s slightly nervous now. Not sure what to expect from this first meeting. He knocks on the door and is invited in.

He walks in and is greeted by the same man he met at the crematorium. On the desk is a plaque that reads “Principal Yaga”. He looks more imposing now than that day, his eyes still hidden behind the tinted glasses. 

“Ah, welcome Itadori Yuji,” Yaga greets him, his voice deep but not mean. “Well I guess this is the second time we are meeting. Take a seat.” 

Yuji hesitates a bit before stepping forward towards the desk and takes the seat across from him.

“You seem nervous, you don’t have to be. This is just a formal meeting that happens with every new student we recruit before they get on with the classes.” 

Yuji leans forward a bit, finally ready to ask the question that has been plaguing him since he first read the letter from his grandpa. “You say recruit, is it just by word of mouth or is there some sort of audition?” he asks, a bit nervous on what the answer would be.

Yaga clears his throat and leans closer too, “I suppose it’s a bit of both, though most times students who come here come from rich families who already have a good reputation in society. In your case…let’s just say your grandfather was…persistent. He sent in multiple videos of you taking part in some sports, though I’m sure you weren’t really aware of that.”

Yuji nods in agreement. He had no idea his grandpa even had the strength to move around like that watching and recording him. It makes him feel embarrassed and warm inside. 

“Well, we weren’t sure we could offer you a spot for this year at first, but after much deliberation we decided your talent wasn’t one we could afford to lose willingly. So, I hope you can contribute to this school as much as possible.”

Yuji swallows out of habit by now and declares, “I will do my best sir!” 

Yaga acknowledges him with a nod, “I look forward to it.” Then he makes a quick call to what he assumes is the secretary. 

“I made a call for a student to show you around. He’d show you the classes and take you to the dorms where you will be staying. If you need anything, do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you sir.” 

It doesn’t take long when he hears a knock at the door. Yaga gestures for the person to come in. 

A boy steps in, drawing Yuji’s gaze towards him. He looks a bit taller than Yuji with very dark messy hair that frames his rather serious absent looking face. He looks like someone who is carrying the weight  of the world on his shoulders and doesn't care for anyone’s opinions on it. His eyes are a striking shade of  deep blue and he barely spares Yuji a glance. Almost like he had already sized him up and dismissed him in the same breath.

“This is Fushiguro Megumi, he will be one of your classmates and is one of the most dependable students in the school. You will be seeing a lot of each other so might as well get acquainted.” Yaga’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. 

The boy speaks to him, “Let’s go,” he mutters, already turning on his heel to lead Yuji out of the office.

Yuji stands quickly and makes a quick bow to Yaga, before hurrying to follow him out. 

Yuji walks faster to catch up to him. “Uh, thanks for showing me around. I was really worried I’d have to figure that out myself.” he smiles nervously while running his fingers over his neck. 

“Don’t mention it,” the boy speaks back flatly. “Yaga makes me do this with most new recruits anyway.” 

Yuji blinks and nods, not sure if he’s trying to be rude or he’s just always that honest.”

“...uh so well I’m Itadori Yuji, you’re Fushiguro…I forgot what the first name was.” he laughs nervously.

“Just Fushiguro is fine.” he glances over his shoulder to Yuji. “Besides, I know who you are. You’re the transfer. Track and field right?”

“Yeah,” Yuji rubs the back of his neck.

Megumi doesn’t answer right away, instead he leads Yuji through the old stone hallways, pointing lazily at rooms as they pass. “That’s the main hall…over there is the gym, though I guess mostly the sports students make use of it for training.” 

Yuji follows quietly, catching glimpses of other students, a few curious glances, some indifferent. “Some of the classes are a bit smaller than I thought they would be.” 

The black haired boy shrugs. “It’s not particularly a normal school. Most students don’t stay long if they can’t handle it. Besides, it's big enough for what it intends to be.” 

Yuji shoots him a glance, “So what are you in for majorly then?” 

Megumi doesn’t glance his way when he replies, “Music. Violin.” His tone is as flat and factual as it’s been since they met all but ten minutes ago. 

Yuji blinks, a bit surprised. “Really? Huh. I would never have guessed. You don’t really seem like the type.

Megumi shrugs, clearly unbothered by the notion. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

They continue walking mostly in silence, the quiet settling between them. They pass by a few more buildings. The library, the courtyard, a basketball court, each place feeling a lot bigger than the previous one. Yuji starts to feel smaller with each step, feeling like an imposter who’s about to live someone else’s life.

Finally they reach the music wing of the school. There is a different feeling to this area from the moment they step in. It’s quieter and heavier, like sound itself holds its breath here. 

But there’s a faint trace of soft piano notes floating through the hallway. The melody is unlike anything Yuji has ever heard. The melody is beautiful, painfully so, like whoever is playing is pouring every piece of their soul into it.

Yuji stops walking. “..who is that playing?” the softness of his voice surprises even him. Like he’s scared speaking too loudly might ruin the moment.

Megumi doesn’t seem to be that impressed. “I don’t know. People practice here all the time.” 

But Yuji doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. He wants to live in this moment. Something about this melody calls to him. Burrowing underneath his skin that won’t let him go. “Can we…can we go closer please?”

Megumi sighs but doesn’t argue with him. He moves instinctively towards the sound and Yuji shamelessly follows. He can still hear as the player navigates through the keys flawlessly. They sound like they are holding back something. It makes him curious—makes him ache to know more.

They stop outside one of the practice rooms, the clarity of the song now more apparent than ever. Yuji hesitates, his chest tightening as he takes a peek through the windows to see to whom the melody belongs.

And in an instant, his world crashes down. 

Yuji stares, frozen, as his breath catches. For a second he forgets how to move, how to breathe.

The first thing he sees is hair as white as the first snow in December, almost glowing under the soft light, falling softly over a pale forehead framing magnificent blue eyes. Strands of hair weaving faintly as the boy moves closer to the piano. His frame looks taller, more defined…older; graceful in a way Yuji had never seen him before. But still him

Satoru.

His broad shoulders tense as his fingers dance effortlessly across the piano. There’s a seriousness to him that Yuji never thought he’d see on him. 

The music keeps playing, very devastatingly soft. Yuji feels the sound tearing into him, ripping through the walls he carefully built for three years, an impermeable barrier around his heart. 

Megumi notices the shift in his demeanor, his eyes narrow as he speaks, “You know him?” 

Yuji doesn’t answer. He can’t.

Right now he’s twelve again, folded up in his bed, hand tight around his phone, begging Satoru not to leave him, asking for answers.

And now, standing here at fifteen, he realizes he’s lied to himself for three years.

He stares at Satoru unfailingly. The boy who told him goodbye without looking back. The boy Yuji dreamed of forgetting and failed almost every night.

He doesn’t hear Megumi anymore. Doesn’t feel the weight of his bags or the floor beneath his feet. All he feels is the space between them. A distance so small and yet so impossibly wide.

Satoru doesn’t look up, he doesn’t notice him. 

Yuji forces himself to look away, but the damage is already done. Everything he tried to carefully keep buried inside him for three years, comes crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. 

All that remains is one undeniable truth.

Satoru Gojo attends his new school and he has no idea how the hell he’s going to survive this.

Chapter Text

“…. Itadori…oi Itadori!!” 

What the fuck.

What the fuck is happening right now. 

The question rings in Yuji’s head over and over again. A myriad of emotions swarming his entire body.

Surprise, frustration, anger, sadness 

Longing. 

Longing for answers, longing to understand—to be close.

His pulse races way faster than he can keep up with and he starts to feel faint. The world closes in on him like he’s being pulled underwater with no way to escape. 

“Oi Itadori!” Megumi places his hand on Yuji’s shoulder, attempting to shake him back to reality. “What’s wrong?” 

“…Huh?” Yuji blinks out of his state of shock. 

He looks around him, taking in his surroundings, he really is in Tokyo right now, being escorted by a less than willing chaperone, he’s in the music wing of his new school and he just ran into Gojo fucking Satoru. 

He looks in front of himself again and unmistakably finds him sitting there. 

In all his annoying elegance. 

The boy who’s occupied more space in his mind than he cares to admit. 

“He’s really here…” Yuji mutters to himself, barely above a whisper, not enough for Megumi to pick up on. 

“Hey, are you going to keep spacing out on me? What they hell is going on with you. One minute you ask to find the source of the music, then you see Gojo senpai and start acting weird like you’ve just seen a ghost.” 

The name drop finally pulls Yuji out of the abyss of his thoughts. 

“Gojo senpai?” He questions, as though that name is foreign to him. As though that name never came out of his own mouth.

“Yes Gojo senpai. Do you know him or something?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, but no indication of being suspicious otherwise.

“Uh… not really. I uh…. I…we met once when I was younger I guess. I just wasn’t expecting to see him here.” 

He lies. 

Half lies; an incomplete truth. 

He doesn’t know why he says that… but it’s too late to take it back. 

But how does he explain them—explain him ? 

Yeah he was my best friend but then he abandoned me like I never meant anything to him.

But this was supposed to be his new start. A fresh beginning. No orphan Yuji, no Yuji with the sick grandpa, no unhappy Yuji and most importantly no Yuji who needed to plead for someone to stay. 

And so he makes a choice. 

He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there, but for now—

“I don’t really know him.” He forces a smile that feels wrong on his face. “Sorry I spaced out like that. It must be all the traveling I did today.” 

Megumi stares at him for a moment, his face unreadable, but if he notices something off in Yuji, he doesn’t call him out on it. 

“…Right. So can we move on now?” He turns before Yuji can answer, already walking away.

Yuji lingers for just a second longer, his gaze falling back on him, while he plays, unaware of his presence. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, before he stills his resolve and follows after Megumi. 

They walk in measured silence now, if things weren’t already feeling awkward before, they definitely are now, and Yuji does not care for it to go on any longer. 

He looks up at Megumi, he has a bored look on his face and the need for Yuji to ask about it gnaws at him. But he chooses to distract them both instead. 

“So umm…back there…that guy..” he brings it up sheepishly, unsure of what exactly he’s even curious about.

“You mean Gojo senpai?” Megumi asks, almost uninterested. “What about him?” 

“..oh uh…I was just wondering…how it is that you know him. I mean, he seems way older than us…” his gaze wavering, finding something other than Megumi’s current jaded face to latch onto. 

There’s a brief pause before Megumi responds. “It’s not like I know him personally, everyone just kind of knows of him.” He steals a look at Yuji before he continues. “For one, he sticks out like a sore thumb just looks wise, plus there’s all sorts of rumors that get circulated about him all the time. It’s kind of hard to ignore when you’re half of what the school ever talks about.” 

Curiosity eats away at Yuji. He wants to act above this, above him, but a part of him still wonders about him. Wonders about what this new version of him could be.

“What sort of rumors?” he asks, feigning disinterest in his answer.

Megumi pauses for all but a few seconds, but decides to indulge Yuji anyway. 

“Well, most of the time Jujutsu Tech recruits based on exceptional talent in one field, but for Gojo senpai, no one knows what actually got him in. Sure, he’s  smart but so are a lot of students here. After all, we still have normal classes for other subjects as well. His father is a huge donor to the school, so I guess that’s where the rumors started. Some people say he bought his way in, others think the school bent the rules just for him because of the family he comes from.” 

Yuji tries to keep his face still while he listens, trying not to react, but something unrecognizable twists in his chest. Hearing people talk like that about someone—like they are some kind of rumor magnet with no emotions, like they are nothing more than privilege and luck, gets under his skin in ways that he can’t explain. A part of him wants to believe he would feel this way about anyone getting treated this way. A part of his soul denies that Satoru being the subject of those rumors has anything to do with it.

He grips the strap of his bag tighter while megumi continues, unaware of the effects of what he’s saying has on him—or pretending to be. “People say he’s arrogant, cold, a playboy, sometimes skips class and his duties, but still somehow stays on top of his class. Stuff like that.” Then more quietly, “He never really confirms nor denies anything.” 

Yuji swallows hard. That doesn’t sound like his Satoru at all.

  His Satoru.

Well that wasn’t true either. He wasn’t his anything. Not anymore.

He keeps his head down as they walk. “Sounds like a lot of talk about someone that nobody apparently really knows.” he mutters, his slight anger almost seeping through. 

Megumi glances at him briefly, like he can perceive more to the statement than Yuji cares to let on. But he doesn’t push. Just gestures towards the exit of the school building. “Come on, the dorms are this way.” 

The dorms are nothing to scoff at, though Yuji isn’t surprised, given how much care went into the rest of the school. The hallways leading up to what he assumes will be his next home for the next three or so years are lined with polished wooden floors and clean white walls, all lined with sliding doors. It’s almost too perfect; like a place untouched or recently refurbished. 

Megumi stops in front of one of the doors and gestures toward it with a nod. “This one’s yours.” 

Yuji stares at the door a bit and notices a name plate, just his last name, Itadori , printed neatly. He isn’t sure why it hits him so hard, but it does. Maybe because it feels too official.

Megumi pushes the door open for him. “Some of the things you sent ahead arrived just in time so they put them in here for you.” 

Yuji steps in, glancing around. The room is modest and clean. A simple desk in the corner, built-in shelves, a bed that looks comfortable and a sliding door that leads to a small balcony. 

“Nice,” he mumbles, setting his bags on the floor by his new bed. “Smells new.” 

“Yeah, probably because it is,” Megumi replies. “They just renovated this wing. You got lucky.” 

“Yuji gives a small but absent nod. His mind, trying to take in everything that’s about to change. 

“So Fushiguro, do you also stay in the dorms?” He asks, trying to make small talk, to get his mind off certain things. 

Megumi decides to indulge him a little. “Yeah. Well I just moved into the dorms. I didn’t always stay here.” He says. His voice, not lending much evidence that he cares to expatiate further than that. 

Yuji wants to ask about it, if only to keep the conversation going. But he knows Megumi doesn’t seem much enthused about it. Besides, Yuji isn’t sure he really wants to pry this early on, with them just getting acquainted—and so he leaves it at that. 

Megumi crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. You’ll have orientation stuff tomorrow morning. Most of it’s just stuff about rules and schedules. Nothing serious. Oh and the common kitchen is just down the hall to your right if you want to cook for yourself.”

Yuji nods again. “Thanks by the way. For showing me around.” 

Megumi shrugs, “Well you looked like a wet, lost puppy when I met you, so consider it my good deed of the day.” 

Yuji huffs out a laugh, the first genuine one in a while, though it fades all so quickly.

There’s a brief silence where Megumi looks like he wants to say something else. But then decides against it.

“Anyway, I’d leave you to get settled. There’s a bathroom in your room but we also have a general bathhouse close to the school if you ever wanna go. If you get lost, I won't be there to save you.” 

“Got it.” Yuji smiles a little, before waving him goodbye and shuts the door behind him. 

He’s back to being alone again.

He sinks down onto the edge of his bed, staring at the floor for a moment before lying back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The room is quiet—too quiet, and yet his thoughts are louder than ever. 

His mind wanders back to the music room. Finally allowing himself to settle on what he just saw. He tried to shove it down into the place where everything else he doesn’t want to deal with lives. But the image won’t leave. Satoru, his soft hair, the delicate sway of his fingers tickling the piano keys like it’s second nature. 

Physically he hadn’t changed much. He’s still as ethereal as Yuji remembers. But he looks so…so unreachable now. And those rumors…

“Ahhhh I don’t care! I don’t care!” Yuji shouts into the emptiness. His palms slamming onto his face while his fingers dig into his eyes until the pressure blurs everything.

But he does care.

He always has.

He turns on his side and curls himself into a ball, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Any normal person  would be shaken up seeing someone from their past so suddenly after so many years. But this wasn’t just anyone.

This was Satoru.

The one person he had let into his heart, who made him feel less lonely. Who had really seen him. 

And then left without a reason.

Yuji had spent so long convincing himself he was over it. Over him. That whatever friendship they had was just a fragment of his childhood. 

But seeing him again, the pain of it is sharp, familiar and unwelcome. 

But none of that matters. He made a promise to his grandfather to give life a go again. This wasn’t accounted for. But he will adapt. 

The school is big enough for both of them. Satoru is his senpai and very likely they will never have to cross paths. Yuji mulls on that and decides he can do this. There’s no reason he  has to put his life on pause just because of him. 

He gets up from the bed, waving off all distracting thoughts. Tomorrow is the first day of his school life here and that will be the peak of his concentration. 

To hell with Gojo Satoru.

He is a shadow of his past and he will continue to stay that way.  

He washes off all the travel fatigue from his body and puts his stuff where they belong in his new home, for the foreseeable future. When night falls, the nervousness that comes with the next day slowly creeps in, but he buries it deep inside. 

He’s already been through all types of school settings. Prestigious or not, this will not be any different, he tries to convince himself. But he falls asleep with a pressing weight settling in his chest.

***

The next morning comes and Yuji opens his eyes slowly, sunlight streaming through the window and blinding him for a moment. His eyelids heavy from his first restless night in his new residence, the weight in his chest from last night remains unchanged.

His eyes land on his closet, where his new uniform hangs, freshly ironed from last night, waiting to be worn. He sighs and drags himself out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom. There he moves slowly, washing his body and letting the nerves dissolve and slide off his skin along with the soap and water, disappearing down the drain.

He dresses himself with quiet precision. He buttons up his crisp white short sleeved shirt while he tugs his black slim fit trousers up. He fumbles with his tie, the knot slipping again and again as he tries to remember how his grandpa used to do it for him. The thought stings. His disposition stumbles a bit knowing that Wasuke was no longer here to correct his mistakes. The simple mundane things are the things he misses the most.

 He puts on his black blazer to complete the look, deliberately avoiding his mirror; afraid to see whatever expression he currently has on his face right now. He steals one last look into his room before he leaves to make his way to school.

The orientation really is as brief and unserious as Megumi described to him. He is handed his schedule and his class number. 

He tries his best to trace back the steps he took with Megumi the previous day. Everything around him still feels new and unfamiliar. Walls he hasn’t memorized yet, faces that pass without recognition. He keeps his eyes fixed on the directions written on the walls, his footsteps hushed against the polished floors. 

He finally finds the right classroom. 

The door creaks slightly when he opens it and heads turn towards him.. The teacher at the front of the class is a tall, slim man with round glasses. He looks up at Yuji from what looks to be the attendance sheet. 

“Ah, you must be the new transfer student,” he says, motioning towards Yuji. “You can come in and introduce yourself to the class.” 

Yuji clears his throat, fighting the urge to sink into himself. “Uh…hello…my name is Itadori Yuji. I just transferred here from Sendai. “I’d be in your care.” He finishes off by bowing his head slightly before lifting it up to make eye contact with everyone. Some people looked bored out of their mind already, some were smiling and some weren’t even paying attention. Typical teenage response. 

The teacher nods and gestures towards the empty seat by the window. 

Yuji walks over and sits down. The chair screeches against the floor as he adjusts. The sound is enough to make him cringe. 

He’s about to put his backpack down and get his writing materials out when he hears a voice from beside him. 

“Finally! someone else from the countryside. I was already so annoyed and tired of all these preppy, privileged city boys and girls!” 

Yuji blinks, turning his head towards the voice. The source is coming from a girl with sharp brown eyes and a bob of light brown hair sitting next to him, her elbow propped on her desk, chin resting in her palm like she’s sizing him up.

“Huh?”he says, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

She smirks in a proud way, full of herself. “Your accent. It’s not so strong, but it’s definitely there. I grew up in the countryside myself so you kind of learn to hear the differences when you’ve lived with it long enough.” 

Yuji straightens a little in his chair. “Ah…right…” he doesn’t know what else to offer to the conversation. 

The girl continues on, “Since you so kindly asked, the name’s Nobara, Kugisaki Nobara.” she offers. This place takes some getting used to, but you’ll be fine. People here tend to be stuck up and act like city life is so special or something.” 

He lets out a short laugh, a little relieved that she’s gotten his mind off things. His nerves calm down a bit. “I’ll try to survive.”

She grins slightly, flicking her eyes toward the front of the room. “Just don’t act like some tragic transfer princess case either. We don’t want a cliche on our hands.”

Yuji raises an eyebrow. “You mean I’m not allowed to sit at the back, sulk and dramatically look out of the window?”

“Nope,” she says, grinning fully now, “that position has already been taken by me.”

Yuji chuckles. She’s bold and blunt, but something about her feels so solid. It feels nice to have a conversation with someone his age without feeling like they are tiptoeing around him like he might break, or he might hurt them. He appreciates that. 

“So, Itadori, what got you in? Wait let me guess….” she places her chin between her thumb and index finger, really giving this her full attention.

Yuji is intrigued and feeds into it. Curious what she could possibly peg him as. 

“...hmmmm…art!” she exclaims, feeling sure of herself.

Yuji chuckles, “Do I really give off the air of an art student? Actually maybe it’s a talent I never really looked into.” He turns his head upwards. Giving it some real thought. 

She pouts, clearly not happy about being wrong. “Excuse me for thinking a boy with pink hair could possibly be on the art side.”

Yuji smiles and shakes his head slightly. “I mean that’s definitely a first for me. People usually associate my hair with possible delinquency.” 

“And are you?” she asks.

“Am I?...”

“A delinquent, dummy.” 

“No I’m not.” He retorts. “Not that all delinquents are bad people anyway. But I wouldn’t classify myself as one.”

She squints her eyes at him before replying. “I guess that’s left to be seen now isn’t it?” 

Before he can respond the teacher calls on them to pay attention. 

They hold each other’s gazes for a moment before letting out tiny chuckles and turning their attention back to the front of the class to begin the rest of their day. 

Their morning classes pass by in a blur. Yuji tries to focus. He’s not going to pretend like he has love for science subjects. They tend to confuse and sometimes bore him. The only time he ever recalls enjoying them was when Satoru would sometimes go into long winded details about physics and how important it is to the world as they know it and Yuji wouldn’t understand half of what was being said, but was always happy to listen. To indulge him.

His mind drifts constantly throughout the classes, but it’s easier to stay grounded with someone like Nobara whispering snarky side comments from the seat beside him. She’s quick to mock their teacher’s monotone delivery, while Yuji barely stifles a laugh, she nudges him, like they’ve known each other for longer than the last few hours since they’ve met.

He likes her already. Funny and loud enough to make the silence in his head feel a little less deafening. 

Lunch rolls around just in time as Yuji’s stomach grumbles. He’s not had anything to eat since he arrived yesterday and the noise does not go unnoticed by the ever observant Nobara. 

“Well thank god it’s lunch time before your stomach magically swallows us all.” 

Yuji blushes a little in embarrassment and looks down at his abdominal area, clutching onto it like his hands held all the power to snuff out the sounds coming out. 

Nobara kicks her chair back with more force than necessary and looks to Yuji. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Yuji looks up at her holding her intense gaze, confused, “go where?” 

“To eat dummy.” She rolls her eyes and starts heading towards the door. “Unless you want to spend all your money on cheap snacks from the vending machine that’s probably only going to last you an hour max.” 

Yuji blinks, before he finally registers her words and scrambles out of his seat rushing after her. “Hey! Wait up!” 

***

They are halfway down the hallway when Yuji catches a glimpse of erratic black hair and the now signature slouched walk of someone he’s sure to be none other than Megumi. 

He’s walking a few paces ahead, earbuds in, likes he’s clearly trying to drown out the voices of everyone around him. 

Yuji hesitates, but then decides there’s no harm in calling out to him. “Fushiguro!” 

Megumi doesn’t turn back immediately until he hears his name called out a second time. He glances back. “Itadori.”

“You headed to the cafeteria too?” 

“Yeah.” Megumi nods.

Nobara raises a brow, glancing between the two before asking, “you’re friends with Megumi the broody-always-reading-a-novel-while-I-walk-so-people-think-I’m-mysterious-and-cool-Fushiguro?”

“Huh?” Yuji asks in bewilderment at how smoothly she said all that but continues on. “Well not really,” Yuji admits, scratching the back of his neck. “We just met yesterday. He helped me get settled.”

Megumi glances sideways at Nobara and sarcastically responds “Always a joy Kugisaki.” 

She smirks in response and flips her short un-flippable hair to the nonexistent wind, “I do what I can.”

“You know each other?” Yuji asks out of curiosity because he can’t imagine what they could ever possibly talk about. 

“Well, we know of each other, we are in the same year after all and have certain classes together. Also he’s a zen’in so everyone knows his family.” Nobara admits with no hesitation. 

The air shifts the second the name leaves her mouth, Yuji looks at Megumi and it’s obvious he looks visibly uncomfortable, almost angry even. His jaw tenses and something sharp flickers through his eyes.

The air turns cold and there’s a strange awkwardness settling between them. Nobara takes notice of it too before she outright asks. “Did I say something wrong?” 

Megumi closes his eyes for a second before exhaling and shaking his head. If either of them smell the lies in his response, they choose not to push it. 

“Well boys, let’s go then. If they run out of curry bread before we get there I will never forgive you!” she declares before bolting ahead towards the cafeteria. 

Yuji looks at Megumi one more time, wanting to ask about what just happened, but chooses to respect his boundaries for now. 

They get their trays filled with rice, miso soup, some side dishes and Nobara’s curry bread and find an empty table by the corner of the cafeteria to eat. 

“So Itadori, you never answered my question. What got you in?” she asks while biting into her stuffed curry bun. She hums in delight, clearly satisfied she didn’t miss out on it. Yuji and Megumi get to keep their heads for another day. 

“Oh, I thought you were still doing the guessing game?” Yuji asks back, taking a bite out of his own food. 

“I gave up on that. So just say it.” 

“Twuak and foued.” Yuji replies incomprehensibly. His mouth, stuffed with food. 

“Eww, swallow your fucking food first.” Her face scrunches up in disgust. 

He swallows and drinks some water to help everything go down. “Track and field.” 

“Hmm I guess I could see that too. You do have a nice build.” She says brazenly. None the wiser to Yuji’s slight blush. He’s never been too good at taking compliments like that. 

“What about you Kugisaki?”

Nobara lights up instantly. “Well art generally, but I want to do fashion.” 

Yuji’s surprised to hear that. She’s so all over the place sometimes he never quite took her for the art type. Fashion though? He could definitely see it. “Is fashion class a thing here?”

Nobara rolls her eyes, “Not yet, but when I’m done presenting my case it one hundred percent will be. I refuse to let this school go down the drain with just math nerds, jocks and violin sad boys. No offense Fushiguro.” 

“None taken.” Megumi responds. 

Yuji halfway chuckles and is about to ask why she doesn’t issue an apology to him when they start hearing whispers in the cafeteria. It’s not too loud or dramatic, just a ripple of voices like suddenly,everyone has something to say.

“No way…” 

“How come he’s here?” 

“I don’t remember the last time he even came around this area.”

Yuji’s smile falls, glancing around the area, wondering what they are whispering about. 

The air in the room has changed and everyone’s attention is caught by one thing.

“What’s going on?” Yuji asks.

The murmurs grow in ripples, flowing over the tables near the cafeteria entrance and spreading outward. Students sit straighter, some lean further, turning their attention to the same spot, to something—or rather, someone.

And that’s when Yuji’s eyes land on the object of all the commotion.

It’s not immediate at first. His eyes skim past a few students first, unsure what he’s looking for, but his body already knows. He feels him before he sees him. 

Satoru.

He is standing by the entrance framed by the sunlight pouring in through the tall glass windows. His uniform fits sharp and looks pristine, like it was cut from a different cloth and maybe it was. His silver-white locks slightly tousled, deliberately imperfect. His brilliant blue eyes Yuji once loved, hidden behind a pair of black shades.

Yuji’s breath catches in his throat. 

They lock eyes.

He knows because even behind those shades he can tell Satoru’s eyes are on him and only him.

The world around them blurs. There’s no cafeteria, no clatter of trays, no whispering of students. Nothing else remains. Just the space between them. Heavy with all the things said and things left unsaid. Balancing the weight of their past known only to them. 

Three years.

Three years and he still knows how it feels to be seen by him.

Before he can register more—before he can find anything behind his unreadable gaze, Satoru looks away. 

Effortless, dismissive. Like he doesn’t know him at all. 

Yuji’s heart stumbles in his chest. 

Of course! What the fuck was he thinking. Why did he assume all they ever needed to do was see each other again and maybe everything would be fine. Maybe things would go back to how they used to be.

“We can’t be friends anymore.”

“It’s over Yuji. We had fun but that phase of my life is over now.” 

Those were his words. The words that Yuji could never get out of his head. It haunted him for so long, it still does. He got comfortable thinking he was over it but seeing him now, how unaffected Satoru is by his presence, maybe this is all the answers he will ever need. 

Satoru turns and heads toward a table across the room where a girl with dark brown hair and uninterested eyes and a boy with black hair packed in a bun are already seated. They don’t flinch when Satoru approaches, like they were already expecting him.

 “Is that Gojo senpai?” he hears Nobara ask, curiosity piqued but not so serious. “Guess even legends have to eat.”

“Somehow his presence always disrupts every room.” Megumi adds, barely glancing up. “He only hangs out with Geto and Ieiri senpai and doesn’t even care about anyone else so I don’t know why everyone still makes him the center of their attention.”

Yuji doesn’t realize he’s staring until—

“...That’s the second time,” Megumi says suddenly, dragging his attention back. “You spaced out yesterday too when you saw him in the music room.” 

Yuji is taken aback. He tries to force himself to say something. “I..I was just looking like everyone else, wondering what the fuss was about.” 

Megumi raises an eyebrow but lets it go. Nobara eats her food clearly uninvested in the whole thing. 

Yuji is thankful they don’t press on and exhales quietly, his eyes flickering one last time across the room, just in time to see Satoru laughing at something the girl beside him said. 

He doesn’t hear his laugh, rather he imagines it. He imagines how blissful and beautiful it used to sound in his ears. He remembers it being one of his favourite sounds in the world. 

He remembers that it doesn’t belong to him anymore. 

And so he picks up his chopsticks and continues eating his food. Trying to shove down the memories and Satoru down with them too. 

***

After lunch they head back to class. Post lunch is always reserved for a few hours for their special lessons in their respective fields so they all head their separate ways. 

The tension from lunch still doesn’t leave Yuji even as he heads over to the gym to get changed into his school issued sports clothes.

While he’s getting changed he wonders if he’d have to keep running into Satoru like that. Maybe he’d have to stick to vending machine food after all. Nobara will have to learn to deal with it. 

He gets changed and jogs out to the field where the rest of the students are already gathering. It’s not a huge group—maybe a dozen or a bit more, all stretching or warming up in silence. 

The coach, a tall man with a sun weathered face and sharp eyes, stands off to the side, clipboard tucked under one arm. 

Yuji walks up and gives a respectful bow. “I’m Itadori Yuji, the new transfer student.” 

The coach gives a curt nod. “So you’re the countryside athlete we’ve heard about. I look forward to seeing if the rumors are true.” He gestures for Yuji to join the group. 

“This is the track and field division. We compete, we train hard. So if you’re just here to pass time, go join the music club or something.” 

Why does everyone just shade every other subsection they have nothing to do with, Yuji thinks.

“I’m here to do my best sir.” 

“Good. I’d accept nothing less. And in light of that. Last year we lost out on the chance to compete on the international stage, because some people…” He side eyes the team. “Refused to take their academics seriously and were banned from competing.” . 

“Sorry sir!” One boy shouts. He’s built like a brick and for some reason is shirtless with skin tight shorts hugging his bulky thighs. He has a distinct scar on his arm that looks like he’d been in a crazy altercation leading to that. 

“No need to shout Ishida, we can all hear you just fine.” the coach responds, already exasperated. 

“Anyway, to prevent any of that happening this year, we are bringing the buddy system back to make sure none of you neglect your studies just to train.”

A few groans ripple through the group. One kid even mutters “Here we go again.” 

“Yeah here we go again,” the coach snaps. “You will have to convene with your mentors at least once a week. So assignments, projects or tests, exams or anything else of difficulty can and will be discussed with your assigned mentors.”

He takes a sheet of paper and clips it on the bulletin board. 

“I’ve worked together with the principal on this one. So it’s not optional. The names have already been paired so after this you can take a look and go meet your assigned tutors. Please and this goes for you especially Ishida, please be on your best behaviour. The next qualifiers for the national competition are coming up in two months. So I need everyone in good shape. Mentally and physically. Is that clear?” 

“Yes sir!” He gets a wide response from everyone. 

“Good.” He passes around another sheet of paper. This one outlining their schedules for the semester. 

Yuji is shocked at how thorough and well thought out it is. His old school was nothing like this. They had a coach who tried consistently to get him on the team but he was clearly only out for himself. But this program takes into account their personal well being as well as the well being of the team as a whole. He understands why his grandpa was so convinced this would be the right fit for Yuji. 

“Okay that’s all for today. We’d convene next time after you’ve had your meet up with your individual mentors. Remember, if you don’t keep your grades up, you’re off the team and inevitably out of the school.” 

They all bow to their coach as they go to the board to look for their names.

Yuji doesn’t rush. Letting everyone else take their time looking through theirs. 

He hears some cheers of excitement and some sighs of disappointment. 

Yuji doesn’t know anyone well enough in this school to have any reservations. 

Eventually the crowd of people thins out. Yuji walks over slipping his hands in his pockets, gaze drifting casually across the list. 

Until he sees his name. 

Itadori Yuji–Gojo Satoru.

For a second, he thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. He uses the back of his hands to rub on his eyes, like that would somehow change what he’s reading. 

Nope. Still there. In clear bold text. His name is right next to Satoru’s. 

…what the actual fuck ?

Chapter Text

If someone told Yuji two days ago that he’d run into Satoru, maybe he could believe it.

 If they told him they would attend the same school, he’d probably laugh at their face and walk away for his own sanity.

 If they went further to say he’d be stuck being his mentee? he’d ask them to go get their head checked at a hospital for their own safety. 

But these are all events that have occurred. 

And of course they did. 

Of course the universe couldn’t let him stay at peace for too long. Of course he couldn’t simply avoid the areas where Gojo Satoru could possibly be and then everything would magically be solved.

He was naive to even consider that for a second.

Minutes, which somehow feel like hours to Yuji, have passed and he’s still staring at the board. Attempting—and tremendously failing— to wish away what his eyes can no longer deny. Gojo Satoru is really going to be his mentor for the semester. 

His first train of thought is to get this rectified. Request a new mentor. Come up with some excuse, lie, say anything that would convince his coach and principal to rescind their choice. 

But Yuji has never really been a good liar. Sincerity courses through his veins like a river of truth, as natural as blood. 

He’s barely keeping up his current half truth with Megumi. The only reason he’s gotten away with it thus far is because Megumi seems too indifferent to call him out on it just yet, and Nobara…well, she doesn’t even know what the hell is going on. So how on earth was he going to successfully pull one over the ever-perceptive adults? 

He’s visibly uncomfortable now, wracking his brain for solutions. His hands—no longer tucked in his pockets, scroll and trace the board like a man on the brink of losing his sanity.

This is no good. He simply can’t deal with this. 

And before his brain can stop him, he’s already halfway to the principal’s office. 

I’d say I’m socially awkward. He thinks. Maybe he’s too beautiful to work with and he'd distract me.

Or I could ask my homeroom teacher instead. Say I feel more comfortable being mentored by an adult. 

Yuji rehearses on his way to the office. These aren’t lies—just truths that don’t necessarily fit the occasion. But he convinces himself something has to give. 

It should be fine. 

It will be fine.

“No changes.” Yaga says straight to his face and faster than he can present his case. 

“What? But what about—” 

“No changes Itadori, I’m sorry. Besides, he may not seem like it, but Satoru is brilliant. He’s arrogant—yes, foolish—very much so and most of the time a spoiled brat.” Yaga admits painfully before he sighs, “But he’s the best you will get.” 

“But what if I don’t want the best? What if…what if I’m entirely comfortable with settling for mediocre?” The words stumble out. He’s not even sure he believes half of what he’s saying. 

“And why, pray tell, would mediocrity be your aim?” 

Yuji pouts. He has no reasonable answer because that is not what he wants at all.

But how is he supposed to accept this as his new reality? How the hell is he supposed to walk up to Satoru and introduce himself. 

Does he act like they don’t know each other? Fake amnesia and pretend this is the first time they’re just meeting?

 Not the worst idea.

 Maybe this way, he can deal with the sting of Satoru ignoring his existence without a care in the world. 

“You know, it’s strange. You’re not the first one to come in here asking for a change today.”

“Sorry sir?” 

“Satoru…he dropped by earlier, demanding I remove him from being your mentor to someone else. Of course I turned him down, but maybe I’m missing something here.” 

Ah…so he knows already.

Yuji shouldn’t feel hurt anymore. His heart shouldn’t feel any more broken than it already does, but it does. His eyes shift and his shoulders slump, like the weight—the realization that perhaps Satoru really couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore was no longer just a figment of his imagination, but a dull realization he ought to have come to. 

Satoru, so eager to be as far away from him as possible, but not even being granted the reprieve from that. He must really hate him.

“Listen, Itadori..”

There’s a shift from Yaga’s chair across him that forces Yuji to look up. He’s leaning back now. His presence, no longer as domineering as Yuji once thought it to be. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but this can’t possibly be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.” He clasps his hands in front of his chest as he speaks further. “As your coach already told you, this isn’t optional. We want you and the rest of the team on top of your academics despite how rigorous training gets. So this system is meant to help you out. This way, even if you miss classes, you can always be sure to catch up and get all your work done through your mentors.” 

He explains it all to him like he isn’t aware what makes this so important. But Yuji knows it is. He knows he can’t afford to not be on his game. He knows some subjects give him trouble and this would be very helpful to him. But he’s not so keen on who he’s getting the help from. 

But he can’t argue with the logic behind it. 

He thinks back to his grandpa, he thinks back to his letter, he thinks back to his wishes. 

Yuji sighs, not realizing he’s had his eyes closed for a while now. He opens them, looking Yaga in the eyes. Stilling his resolve, he responds. 

“I understand what’s needed from me sir. I’d try my best to comply.” 

And he means it. If all he has to do is be professional, if all he has to do is suck it up and get the job done. He can and will do it. 

For his grandpa. 

For himself. 

With that he bows in respect and excuses himself from the office. 

He has one destination in mind now. He has to go meet Satoru. 

***

Yuji was in over his head when he decided to track down Satoru.

He’s been wandering around the school for what feels like hours, through halls that have all started to look the same, past doors leading to empty rooms, asking the few people who were left that either didn’t know or care enough to answer. 

His legs are starting to ache, and frustration buzzes beneath his skin. He’s about ready to give up and head back to Yaga’s office—maybe just say he couldn’t find him, that he tried his best. Maybe Yaga would reconsider. 

He sighs, knowing he never would. 

But just as he’s about to make his way back, something tugs at the edge of his memory. 

Yesterday. 

Soft musical tones. Piano notes drifting through his subconscious. They were beautiful enough to stop him in his tracks, enough to make it feel like the air itself had paused to listen. 

Yuji never would have thought such fragility could belong to Satoru but it did. 

And now thinking back, it clicks. 

Of course. 

He turns around and retraces his steps. Past the courtyard, down the hallways. His pulse picks up as he gets closer to the source of his memories. 

When he makes it to the music wing, to his surprise he hears a melody. 

It’s different. More charged in its intensity—brash in its delivery, but still undeniably vulnerable. 

He gets closer to the sound until he’s by the entrance. 

He finds Satoru there, just like before. Sitting at the piano with his head slightly bowed. Gracing the keys with his fingers again. 

He doesn’t notice Yuji. 

His expression, intense. His eyes closed, like the Melodies are transporting him elsewhere. To a world where he can let his guard down. 

He looks…melancholic. 

For a moment Yuji chooses to forget everything. 

He chooses to listen—to feel the emotions from the song. Perhaps to be transported too. And he is. 

Before long the final notes of the piano fall into silence. Satoru’s fingers hover over the keys for a moment, lost in the stillness, before he pulls his hands back and lets them fall on his lap. 

The silence drags on. Neither of them ,moving from their positions. 

A beat passes and then another. 

And slowly, like some sixth sense tugging at him, Satoru turns his head and finds Yuji by the door. 

For a moment his expression cracks. Just barely. 

His brows lift and a genuine flicker of surprise crosses his face like he’s seeing a ghost. 

Yuji isn’t sure what to make of this, but now that the jig is up he turns the door knob and walks into the room. 

Just as quickly as he enters his room, Satoru puts his glasses back on and straightens up. The shades glint slightly as he adjusts them, shielding his eyes from view. 

“How’d you know to find me here?” He speaks and something in Yuji stumbles. 

He hasn’t heard his voice in so long. 

A voice that he had become accustomed to. It’s different—deeper, more composed. A stark reminder that the boy he once knew barely clings to the surface now. 

He almost closes his eyes to savor it, like a dog starved of food. 

It’s embarrassing. 

Yuji steps further into the room, suddenly unsure of himself again. He clears his throat to speak. “I uh…I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Satoru stares at him, not saying anything back. 

Yuji doesn’t move, his breath caught somewhere between his rib cage and his throat. “I never knew you played,” he says, the words slipping out before he can stop them. 

Satoru’s brows furrow a bit. “Most people don’t,” he responds, his voice slightly cautious, “I usually keep it to myself.” 

“I…I heard you…playing yesterday. There was a tour and I heard this beautiful melody that I just had to follow and that’s when I saw it was you, so I thought I’d come check here when I couldn’t find you.” 

The room goes quiet again. The air goes still, filled only with their breaths. And for a fleeting moment Satoru’s face seems to soften. But he blinks, as if to shake it off and adjusts his posture, going back to his cool demeanor.  

“You saw the list. That’s why you came.”

It’s not a question. Satoru says it like he’s just stating a fact they both now know. 

Yuji had almost forgotten why he came here in the first place. 

For years he’d imagined what their first conversation would be like. All the things he’d ask Satoru, all the apologies he’d demand. The accusations, the pain he’d throw back like a shield.

But standing here now, looking at him—reading Satoru’s expressions, he realises he doesn’t have any of that in him. 

 He doesn’t have demands for apologies, or a need for answers. 

None of the words come. They are gone or buried too deep to reach. 

He simply wants to move past it. 

Just like he’s sure Satoru has. 

He exhales slowly. A breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I came to say, I’m looking forward to being in your care from now on, Gojo senpai.” He bows with the utmost politeness he can muster. 

He says it like they are strangers. Drawing a line between their past and present. 

The air feels thicker than it’s been. But the thickness is broken when Yuji feels Satoru stand up from his chair by the piano. 

He walks towards Yuji, like a predator hunting its prey—slow and calculated. Causing him to raise his eyes from their fixed position on the floor. 

Before he knows it, Satoru is right in front of him. 

The difference in their heights is still as glaring as he remembers—maybe more so now than ever. He towers over Yuji in ways that make him feel unmoored, impossibly small. He feels his heart race as Satoru’s scent surrounds him.

It hits him all at once; earthy, warm, sweet, unmistakably him. 

A woody note, like Sandalwood—grounding and rich and laced with subtle traces of vanilla essence. His scent lingers around him like a memory Yuji thought he’d long since forgotten. 

For a moment he feels himself getting submerged, like he’s drowning in it. 

“Are we back to that?” Satoru speaks, his voice low and seeking. 

Yuji blinks, confused at what he means.

“..back to what?” 

“Calling me Gojo.” He remarks.

Yuji’s taken aback.

He’s as confused as the day he was born into this world. His eyebrows furrow as his gaze finally lands on Satoru’s; hidden behind those black shields that separate his dazzling ocean blue from Yuji’s honey brown. 

His demeanor changes. He looks more confident than he had been since the moment he first stepped into the room. 

“What else am I supposed to call you?” His words come out more agitated than he anticipates. 

Satoru doesn’t let up, getting closer to him, crowding his personal space. 

“…Satoru.” 

Yuji’s heart lurches. 

How brazen of him. 

He throws his first name out there like bait, like a cruel lick of Nostalgia—like he’s taunting him.

And suddenly Yuji’s not composed anymore. Not level headed, or polite like he intended to be earlier. 

“You don’t get to do that,” Yuji says, his voice low—almost trembling. “You don’t get to just…pick things up like nothing happened.” 

“I’m not twelve anymore. We don’t get to just laugh everything off. You don’t get to just come back like you didn’t wreck me.” 

Yuji’s breathing picks up, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. 

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go here. He wouldn’t reopen old wounds, but Satoru did this. 

Satoru pauses, his expression changes. Surprise? or regret, it’s hard for Yuji to tell. The glasses make it even harder. 

But he doesn’t respond, instead, he looks away from Yuji before walking back toward the window. 

“Yeah…I guess not.” He says as he sits on the window pane. Legs stretching and dangling off the edge. 

What was that about then? Was this just a game to him?

Yuji exhales and calms himself down. Not letting himself take the bait any further. 

“Look…I didn’t come to argue or go down some twisted memory lane.” He states firmly. 

“I just…I  have to do this because it’s not optional for me and I really need to keep my grades up so I don’t get kicked off the team or the school.” 

“I just want us to be able to get along,” Yuji continues. “As mentor and mentee I mean. This might not mean much to you, but it’s important to me.”  

Satoru looks at him a moment longer. His face sullen. Flickering underneath, an expression he’s not sure what to make of.  

Yuji swallows. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act like you’re hurt. 

Then he nods, barely perceptible. 

“Alright,” he says simply. “We can start tomorrow.” 

Yuji blinks, expecting more of a push back, but gets none. 

“We’d work on my time. I get to decide the locations and how often. They said once a week but I’m not sure that’s going to be enough to keep up. You see, I’m quite a slow teacher and an even more terrible time keeper” He states, dragging his words out annoyingly. 

Ah. Yuji thinks, I see why everyone calls him a brat now. 

His cadence has changed too. Like he’s finally dropped an act he tried to hold onto desperately. 

“You do what I say, when I say, no questions asked.” 

“I can’t do that.” Yuji retorts. “What if you tell me to kill someone?”

“I won’t by the way” Yuji declares like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world.

Satoru lets out a laugh. It’s the first time he’s hearing it in a while, not just his imagination conjuring it up. 

It’s his real laugh. 

But it’s not quite the same. It’s cheeky—almost cynical. 

“What exactly do you take me for, hm?” He asks, no real bite to his words. 

“…I don’t know. But usually when someone says to do something, no questions asked, it usually spells trouble.” 

“And am I that then?…Trouble I mean.” Satoru asks, a puzzled—curious look on his face. Like he’s entertained, like he’s dying to know what Yuji has to say.

But Yuji isn’t sure what to say. 

The Satoru that stands before him now and the one from his memories feel so far in between. 

He’s not aware of this version of him. He has no inclination to the kind of person he’s become. 

The rumours circulating—the looks he’s seen people give, the snares and comments. Yuji’s only just arrived and he’s heard some of them himself. It’s enough to point that all signs lead to this Satoru being—trouble. 

But he doesn’t pass judgements like that now does he? 

He’s been a victim to those most of his life. He knows what it feels like to be the center of attention for all the wrong reasons with no room to defend yourself. 

With slight hesitation, he holds Satoru’s gaze. 

He takes a breath and then—

“I don’t know. I can’t make that judgment on someone I barely know.” 

It stings him to say. But it’s true. It’s his truth. 

It perplexes him even more to see the look on Satoru’s face. Like he just broke his heart. 

“I guess you’re right.” Satoru murmurs. His gaze, drifting to the floor. 

“Anyway,” he stretches his arms above his head like a toddler who just got up from a full day’s nap. “Don’t worry. I mean strictly only stuff relating to our meetups. I won’t ask you to kill anyone.” 

“I don’t stay in the school dorms, so after school hours might get complicated. We can use empty classrooms or anywhere else I choose for the day depending on my mood. Ah…the library is out of the question though.” 

“Why’s that?” Yuji asks, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“The librarian's eyes might fall off with the way she can’t stop staring at me.” 

It takes Yuji a bit, but he catches on. 

“How awfully humble of you.” Yuji snarks, rolling his eyes. 

Satoru shrugs his shoulders. A small smile creeps up his face, so small Yuji almost misses it. 

He shakes his head as if to weave off any distractions as he asks, “ Would that be all senpai?” 

Satoru holds his gaze, stretching the seconds between them before he surges up off the window and gradually makes his way towards Yuji. 

It doesn’t take many steps to get to him. With his long legs, Yuji’s shocked he’s not on the track and field team doing some kind of jump sport or running for them. 

“Yeah that’s all.” He’s right in front of Yuji now, just like they were earlier. Entirely too close—entirely too uncomfortable. 

Yuji tries to find his voice once more to respond. “Well then ... .I'll see you tomorrow, senpai.” 

“ Yeah. For tomorrow you can meet me here. Same time.” 

They share one last silence together before Yuji excuses himself and leaves the room. 

***

The moment Yuji gets back to his room, he shuts the door and slides down to the ground. 

His back hits the cold wood, his knees pulled close and then it all catches up to him, the impact of what just happened.  

This wasn’t how he’d envisioned their reunion. Far from it.

For years, he’d played out different scenarios. Sometimes with anger—other times with tears clinging to the edges of his eyes. 

Sometimes he said everything he wanted. Other times he just walked away. But none of those versions had happened. Perhaps because he had never factored in what Satoru’s responses would be—what he would say. 

Even now, Yuji isn’t sure what to make of him. 

He was strange. A bit playful. Mysterious. Arrogant.

In some ways, parts of the boy he knew reared its head, in some others he was just a stranger wearing a familiar face.

Still...maybe it’s unfair to think like that. 

It’s been three years, people change. 

Yuji has too.

He closes his eyes, trying to steady the rush in his chest. But Satoru lingers anyway.

He had tried his best to keep his composure as much as he could in the music room but the truth is—it had shaken him up. Being that close to him affected him more than he let on.

And the worst part?

It terrifies him still. The thought that maybe Satoru might still hold some sort of power over him. 

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out as if he can flush out the worries with the air. 

They reached an agreement. So for now, he decides to let the worries lay dormant. 

As long as they remain civil and stick to work, everything will be fine. 

Chapter Text

The blaring sound of Yuji’s alarm jerks him out of an already tumultuous sleep. 

Last night had been spent half-convincing himself things would be okay and the other half not believing it. Either way, it had prolonged his insomnia and now he’s running on only a couple hours of sleep. 

But none of that matters. Today is his first real practice in track and field. After going through his schedule last night from his coach, it completely escaped his mind while he was thinking (not) about a certain someone, how tasking getting up at 5.am every morning now for pre training will be. 

He stretches his arm across the bed to his side table to his phone. 

He intends to hit snooze, just to buy himself at least five more minutes, but ends up stretching too far off the bed and falling off. 

“Yep, what a great, splendid start to the already amazing morning.” He says out sarcastically. Rubbing his head from the irritating gnashing pain caused by the fall. 

There goes his five minutes of extra sleep. 

He sighs before dusting himself off the floor. He has to quickly freshen up and get going if he wants to make his morning runs with the team. 

It’s a frustrating thought now that he’s wide awake, but he gets going anyway. 

When he arrives at the field, the team is already ready and waiting. 

But that’s not what’s odd. What’s odd is that every one of them is staring at him. 

Intensely, like he just killed someone they know. 

He’s cautious with his approach now, looking each one of them in the eye. Curiosity gets his tongue and he blurts out, “what’s going on guys? Why’s everyone staring?” 

No one answers. They all frantically look around them, trying to act like they are doing something else. 

But he hears the whispers anyway. He can’t discern what exactly is being said but one common word sticks out 

Gojo. 

Of course. 

It just never ends with the people in this school it seems. Yuji isn’t very enthused or curious enough to ask anymore, so he ignores them and their whispers. 

The thought isn’t lost on him what could possibly have prompted this current situation. The list was pinned only yesterday on the board and while everyone was too distracted scrambling to see who they ended up with, it must have slipped their minds to pry in on the new kid. 

Why should this be news to be discussed? He’s not so sure, but he’s definitely way too fucking tired to ask. 

And so he doesn’t. 

It doesn’t take long for their coach to arrive. Clearly with the countenance of a man who’d rather be anywhere else right now but here. But he makes no comments about it. 

“Good morning everyone. I take it you were all able to meet up with your mentors yesterday? He says, with the loudest yawn out of his mouth. 

Everyone responds with a resoundingly dull yes. Making clear their pure discomfort with being here this early.

If their coach notices, he shows no signs of caring and continues on. He lays out the workout routine for the morning. Consisting of a lot of running and resistance exercises.

None of these are particularly hard workouts for Yuji. He does have a natural talent for it after all. But he finds himself not exactly finding pleasure in them either. And maybe he is being ungrateful. Not many people get the opportunity he’s been granted; to come to a prestigious school one can only ever dream of, putting his talents to good use. But where exactly does he draw a line between talent and a passion for something? 

He’d ultimately made the decision to come here for his grandpa. Along the line he’s convinced himself it’s what he wants too. Perhaps it’s too early to tell. Maybe he’s overthinking things and should only focus on what he can do right now.

And so he does. He runs like his life depends on it. His legs, carrying him swiftly past his other teammates. Heads turn in awe at the sheer power of his speed. He doesn’t notice he’s gone past the finish line. He doesn’t notice his coach belling out his name. He just keeps running. Letting his thoughts dissipate with the wind, until his legs can’t carry him anymore. 

***

“Yo Itadori right? , your speed is insane man,” one of his teammates calls out. He hasn’t quite gotten acquainted with their names yet, he’s hoping that will come naturally with time, so for right now he offers him a sheepish smile, unsure of what to say to that. 

Yuji has never fared well with compliments. At least not since he hit his teens. Forever aware, forever a blushing mess at the slightest utterance of approval. 

A part of him blames it on  his sheltered childhood. Always feeling like he’s never enough—like he’s playing catch-up. He never thought he was out seeking anything—wanting anything. But  the past three years have shown him parts of himself he never knew existed and more he’s still discovering. 

“He’s right, Itadori’” chimes in another. “You’re way too fast, I’m not even sure we need a whole team for the racing games at the very least. You could probably run them all solo.”

“All right calm down guys,” a third one cuts in with a scoff. “No need to inflate his ego now.” He’s tall and uniquely fit in a way students their age shouldn’t be. Yuji figures he’s probably involved with the field games. That kind of build is perfect for it. 

He’s starting to feel awkward now. With all eyes on him and so many opinions flying around. With the slyness of a cat looking for an escape route, he scoots closer to the exit of the gym. 

He gives a few nods and a fiddly smile, then backs away and exits the gym, before anyone can rope him back in. Besides, classes start in an hour and he needs to get ready for that. 

***

After a quick shower and getting dressed with all the swiftness he can muster, Yuji makes his way to school for classes. 

Getting into his classroom, he has a better view of everything compared to yesterday. More faces register easier on him now but the one that sticks out the most is Nobara. 

She’s already on her desk with her legs sprawled all the way across onto his desk. 

He’s not known her long, but he gets the idea this is just one of the things that come naturally to her. Every boundary, hers to tear down. But he can’t find it in himself to dislike her for it. It brings a small smile to his face. 

He makes his way to his desk with enough thumps to get her attention. 

“Oh look who’s finally here. The baby athlete.”  

“Good to see you too Kugisaki,” he says as he makes an attempt to maneuver his way around her confidently outstretched  legs to get to his seat. 

He’s setting his bag on the floor when he feels a pair of eyes boring through the back of his head. 

“Tsk are you a pushover Itadori?” She asks without a hint of hesitation. 

“Huh?!” 

She pauses briefly before loudly withdrawing her legs back from his desk and stomping her feet on the floor.

“I was expecting some kind of reaction but you just let it go.” 

“Well I didn’t think it was a big deal, plus you’d have to take your legs off my desk eventually.” 

She stares at him before quickly changing the topic. 

“Soooo…. How was your first day at practice?” 

He narrows his eyes at her. Mostly because he’s not sure if she’s asking because she necessarily cares, or just trying to fill the silence but he entertains her anyway.

“Not bad so far. I haven’t really talked much with any of them personally. We do have to do this buddy mentorship thing for the semester though which kind of sucks. And the early hours might end up killing me.” 

“Buddy mentor stuff?” her eyebrows raise out of curiosity. 

“Uh yeah. Our coach thinks we need it so we don’t fall behind on any school stuff with the rigorous sports schedule.” 

“Sooooo..…”

“Sooooo??” 

“Who’d you get paired with then?” 

“Does it really matter?” Yuji asks, his voice faltering more than he intends. 

“Hmmm now I have to know since you’re clearly avoiding it.” She scoots closer to his desk. Giving him no room to avoid the question. Her eyes pin him in place sending a nervous chill through him.

“It’s really not important.” Yuji scoots back his eyes looking anyway but her direction. 

“Just say it, Itadori!” 

“...It’s Gojo senpai.” 

“Huh? Gojo senpai? Like the Gojo senpai.” 

“Yeah.. Why?” He groans, rubbing his temples. “What’s really the big deal with him being my mentor anyway? My teammates were giving me looks the whole morning because of it.” 

Nobara leans back into her chair, arms crossed behind her head like a mob boss. “Well I don’t know much about him but haven’t you heard about his total lack of zeal for school? He doesn’t do the mentor stuff,” she says, emphasizing it with air quotes.” He’s more likely to disappear for weeks and still somehow ace everything. Nobody knows how he does it. So, him being your mentor has to be a cruel case of irony.”

Yuji opens his mouth to ask more, but the sound of their teacher coming in cuts through the chatter in the classroom.

They look at each other briefly before Nobara nudges him with her elbow. “Hey don’t look so stressed baby athlete, who knows maybe he might surprise you.” 

He sighs. “You’re not gonna stop calling me that, are you?” 

She grins. “Nope, not a chance in hell.” 

Classes are a drag as they usually are for Yuji. With unrelenting tales of formulas and equations he’d rather not hear about, but for some reason, everyone is convinced would be needed later in life. He has a hard time believing it because he never once saw his grandpa bother with them. And maybe it’s important to some but definitely not to all.

 The sun dips lower as the day winds down and it doesn’t take long before he’s back standing outside the music room, his shoulders tense and his indoor slippers squeak softly on the polished floors.

He checks the time. 

He’s early, not at all what he intended. But he figures Satoru wouldn’t be too mad at that. He’s not even sure he’d show. After all, everyone and their mother is so convinced he has no loyalty to school nor does he commit to anything that requires a schedule. 

He steps in slowly, resigning himself to a case of disappointment, clutching his books under one arm, expecting to find the place empty. Instead, he finds Satoru at a desk at the back of the room. 

Not just slouched—but he’s asleep. His arms are folded beneath his head, cheek pressed to his forearm, his pale lashes cast a soft shadow over the top of his cheeks. His hair slightly tousled and Yuji fights the urge to run his hands through it. 

He hesitates at the doorway. 

His mind is thrown back to three years ago. The first and only time he’d ever watched Satoru sleep. Quiet. Peaceful. Human. It had been the first time he’d ever really looked at someone. He remembers thinking he could look at him for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

He steps a little closer, careful not to make a sound. Even now, his gaze lingers longer than he means to.

Satoru always had an effortless grace about him that Yuji admired. From his voice, to his laugh, to his face. But in this moment, that ridiculous sense of effortlessness he carried then is not present. What’s here is exhaustion. Yuji notices the subtle purplish tint beneath Satoru’s eyes, the faint puffiness, like he hadn’t been sleeping much at all.

A sense of worry clambers up his chest, uninvited. 

He tries to shake it off. It’s not my business. Not anymore. He looks away and clears his throat just loud enough to stir the silence.

Satoru flinches slightly, like his dreams had been close to the surface. Then he stirs, slowly lifting his head and blinking through the sleep. His eyes take a second to focus before they land on Yuji.

“You’re early,” he says, his voice scratchy from sleep. 

“And you’re asleep,” Yuji counters, settling into a seat across from him.

“Glad we are stating the obvious.” Satoru seats up straighter, stretching his arms over his head with a soft groan. He runs a hand through his hair making it even messier than before.

Yuji doesn’t ask why he’s so tired. Doesn’t question what kept him up at night. He just opens his notebook and tries not to think about how fragile the air had felt before Satoru woke. 

Satoru rubs at his face, still fighting off the last dregs of sleep. Yuji watches him out of the corner of his eye, pretending to scribble something down in his notebook while actually doing nothing of the sort.

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” Yuji mutters before he can stop himself. So much for not asking.

Satoru pauses, halfway through adjusting his glasses. Then he smirks. “Concerned for me?” 

But Yuji snorts at this. “Hardly, I just don’t want you to die mid lesson or something.”

“Touching. I feel so nurtured.” He leans back in his chair with a dramatic sigh, then opens a folder from his bag and tosses a stack of papers onto the desk between them. “Anyway, this is for you. Physics.” 

“Ready for today’s chaos?” Satoru says, all traces of vulnerability expertly tucked away. 

Yuji stares at the stack of papers like it personally attacked him. “Can’t wait,” he deadpans. 

“We’re not gonna do things the boring way,” Says Satoru, already rising from his seat. He moves towards the other side of the room and riffles through the cabinets with surprising speed, muttering to himself. 

“You’re not gonna make me build a rocket or something, right?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” Satoru replies over his shoulder. He pulls out a small bag filled with weights, some other objects, marbles, string, and even a pendulum setup. “Visual Learning, remember?” 

Yuji frowns. “I don’t remember me telling you I was a visual learner.” 

“You didn’t have to.”

That catches Yuji off guard, but Satoru doesn’t linger. He returns to the desk with his hands full of tools and materials. “You remember things when you move. When you see it, or when you hear it all spelled out nice and easy for you. Always did.” 

It doesn’t sound condescending. He doesn’t sound like he’s chastising Yuji for it. He just states it as a matter of fact, like he can read him like a book. Like he could always read him like a book.

Yuji doesn’t answer. He lets the quiet hum fill in the space with things left unsaid.

Satoru drops his first marble onto the desk with a sharp clack. Today, we’re gonna tackle Newton’s law. Get ready to chase some marbles.” 

“Why marbles?” 

“You’ll thank me later when you don’t fail,” Satoru says with a wink, already setting up the small pendulum. “Now if I roll this toward you and it hits another object of equal mass, what happens?” 

Yuji raises an eyebrow. “They knock each other out?” 

Satoru grins. “Wrong. But I admire the effort.” 

Yuji leans forward over the desk, squinting at the pendulum. “Okay, so if it hits an object of equal mass it stops?”

Satoru hums a non committal sound, plucks another marble from the collection and rolls it across the desk. It collides with the other in place. It’s clean and efficient, just like Yuji has seen in the textbooks before.

“It transfers momentum,” Satoru explains, “to the second object. Newton’s third law: for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction.”

Yuji groans. “You make it sound way more poetic than it is.” 

“Physics is poetic,” Satoru says obnoxiously with a serene smile. “The universe is a symmetry between force and consequence. You just have to be willing to see it to be able to understand it.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” 

“It’s not. Not for everyone. I guess that’s why I’m here.” 

Satoru doesn’t dwell on that too long before he searches through the bag again and pulls out a banana, two batteries and a lemon. Yuji watches him with visible concern.

“..are we about to summon something?”

“Nope. We are learning about circuits next.”

Yuji sits back. “Do we even have permission to do–?”

“We are not blowing anything up,”  Satoru says, placing the batteries between two wires and poking them into the lemon. A tiny light bulb flickers on. “See, this is current, and this–”he taps the bulb, “ –is resistance.” 

Yuji stares. “I remember this in middle school…sort of. But it’s actually kind of cool seeing it like this.” 

They continue through the lesson. Satoru teaches him through motion. Using balled up papers to explain projectile motion, bouncing a pencil to demonstrate energy transfer, even making Yuji walk back and forth across the room to count beats and explain frequency and wave mechanics. 

Despite himself, Yuji finds that he’s…remembering things. Understanding them.

A part of him deeply appreciates the precision in Satoru’s chaos. Another part of him thinks in some ways Satoru finds this all amusing. Seeing him as his latest project; throwing whatever bizarre thoughts cross his mind to see what sticks.

It’s not as jarring as he anticipated. At some point he stops to observe him. He sees his enthusiasm. It’s such a stark contrast to everyone’s thoughts about him. He finds himself speaking before his brain can stop him. 

“You know, for someone who doesn’t care much, you really went all out for this.”

Satoru’s chair lands softly back on all fours. “What makes you say that?” 

Yuji glances at him. There’s nothing hostile in his gaze. Just curiosity, maybe a little caution. 

He doesn’t want to say it. It wasn’t his intention to bring it up, he just couldn’t stop his mouth fast enough to avoid this. But if Satoru is anything like he used to be, there is no way he is letting this go without an answer.

“No real reason. It’s just that…,” he looks at him again before he sighs then continues on, “it’s just that the whole day people were talking about you and how you don’t care about stuff like this, and I was going to have the worst time getting mentored by you,”

He delivers it as delicately as he can. In no way trying to incur any sort of reaction out of the older, but he sees it anyway.

Satoru’s mouth quirks to the side, like he’s trying to force a smile but feels too uncomfortable to fake it all the way. 

“Mm is that so?” He says lightly, the way someone might comment about their opinion on the weather. 

Yuji watches him carefully. He’s used to people deflecting. He’s done it plenty himself. But with Satoru it’s always been a little harder. Most of their relationship was over a phone or through letters. He’s not used to all the funny things his face does when he’s thinking or when something else is simmering underneath. But he knows his voice like the back of his hand. That voice that always seemed to hide something painful beneath—disguised and dismissed with a laugh. Yuji was sometimes too young, too inexperienced to notice, but these days it comes easier to him. 

“I didn’t say I agreed with them,” he says after a beat. “It’s just that…it surprised me. Seeing you like this. Doing all this.”

Satoru hums, not looking at him. “People say a lot of things about people they don’t know.”

“Guess so.” Yuji murmurs. There’s a flicker of tension now. Their easy banter from early seemingly dissipating right before their eyes. 

“Still. They seemed pretty sure.”

Satoru chuckles under his breath, but it’s dry and tired. “Yeah. People usually are.”

Yuji studies his face some more. Trying to match his voice with his facial expressions. He’s not sure what kind of reaction he’s trying to draw out of Satoru. What kind of truth he’s trying to decipher. There’s a quiet pullback now, his face just a little bit too blank and withdrawn. 

“You’re not gonna defend yourself or anything?” Yuji pushes further. 

But Satoru just shrugs. “Why bother? It’s easier to let people think whatever they want.”

That answer doesn’t sit right. Satoru was never the kind to stay quiet. Let alone about himself. He used to be all sharp grins and loud comebacks. Always a little too cocky. A little too honest for his own good. 

“That doesn’t sound like the Satoru I remember.”

And there it is. 

Yuji watches as he stiffens. It’s subtle, but he catches it—the smallest crack in the armor. 

He almost wants to take the words back. But he doesn’t.

“Sorry,” he says instead. “That came out weird. I said I wasn’t here to go down memory lane and yet…”

“No,” Satoru replies, quieter now. “You’re right. I guess I have changed.”

Yuji frowns clearly dissatisfied with that answer. He wants to ask, how? Why? What happened back then? What did I do wrong?

But he doesn’t. Because that would mean admitting he still thinks about it. Still feels it gnawing at him. 

“Was it a choice you made?” It slips out of him, soft and without meaning to. 

Satoru’s eyes meet his and there’s something in them; bright, pained and old. And then it’s gone.

“Well,” Satoru says, already standing, brushing off invisible dust from his sleeves. “That’s enough about that.”

Yuji follows suit. Standing slowly while he watches him. The air is laden with something neither of them are willing to say. 

“So when do we meet again?” he asks, steering the conversation to something else.

Satoru doesn’t look back. “I’ll send for you when I’m free.”

And just like that, he slips out of the door like a shadow, leaving Yuji alone with his thoughts. 

Yuji stares at the space he left behind. He feels like he’s ten steps behind in a conversation he didn’t even know he started. 

He walks back to the desk to pack his stuff. Satoru didn’t even bother to put things back to the way they were–though he guesses that wasn’t exactly by choice. He stuffs the objects back in the small bag and puts them in the cabinet. He‘s just about to zip up his bag when he hears chatter from outside. He looks through the window and sees Satoru with someone. He can’t make out a face but he’s dressed in a suit very similar to what Principal Yaga was in the first time they met at the crematorium. 

The conversation looks serious and Satoru looks saddened, like whatever he just heard ruined his day. Yuji’s never seen him like this before–soaked with sadness and disheveled. He wants to mind his business, to pretend like he doesn’t care. It’s not his job to fix whatever is wrong with him, but that look on his face breaks his heart all the same. 

He stares only long enough to watch the conversation come to its natural end before Satoru follows after the man and they leave the area. 

***

After that day, their meetups are spontaneous and true to his word, Satoru decides on the most random locations to meet up, all on his own time.

Notes slipped under his desk in class. “Roof top after class.”

Sometimes slipped into his gym locker. 

Their lessons are nothing like the first one. Satoru doesn’t try to banter with him like he did before. The lessons get weirder, but Yuji is learning just as quickly because of it. 

They maintain that pace and Yuji is just about ready to make peace with their new dynamic until one day Satoru goes completely silent. 

At first, he doesn’t think much of it, Satoru did say he’d let him know only when he’s free, but after the days stretch out into complete silence; no notes nor sending random students to call him, he finds out Satoru hasn’t come to school at all. 

Inevitably, worry creeps its way into his head. But he tries to shake it off.

He focuses on his practice and tries to push himself harder during morning drills. Focuses on his worksheets and half-listening in class while his pen presses too deep into his paper. 

It doesn’t take long for Nobara and Megumi to notice his absent mindedness. They call him out on it, clearly worried, and after little persuasion, he finally tells them Satoru has been missing for almost two weeks now. Even they admit it’s the longest he’s ever gone without coming in at all. And that’s enough to push Yuji to the edge. 

He decides today is going to be the day he asks about Satoru. Since no one else seems to know what’s going on. 

He makes his way to the upper classes to ask around. Find a classmate of his who may have an idea where he is. 

The first few people he encounters barely even stop to listen when he calls their attention. He realizes Nobara was right, they really do act stuck up in this school sometimes. 

He goes from class to class, each stop, bringing on a new form of disappointment. He’s about ready to give up when he spots a slightly familiar hair on the hallway. It’s one of the people he saw sitting with Satoru at the cafeteria about a month ago when he first came to the school. He’s about to enter a classroom when Yuji runs straight at him with a thunderous speed. It’s so loud and swift that it causes him to stop in his tracks with his eyes widened in shock. 

Yuji notices and comes to a complete halt just a distance away from him. 

He bows his head in reverence, “I’m sorry senpai, I didn’t mean to startle you.” he’s breathing a little fast, trying to calm himself down. 

The older boy pats his shoulder to get his attention, “It’s fine,” he says with a fox-like smile that curves his lips–polite and pleasant. The kind of smile that makes Yuji think he probably gets away with whatever he wants. “What do you want?”

“I uh...I’ve been looking for Sato–I mean Gojo senpai. He’s my mentor and I haven’t seen or heard from him in a while now. I was wondering if you know where he is.” 

“Oh, you must be Itadori-kun.”

Yuji’s spine straightens a little. “..yeah?”

“I heard of you, pink hair, a little clumsy and cute. Fits the bill.” he adds, his tone unreadable. 

Not sure if he appreciates being summed up in only three words, Yuji frowns slightly. “From Gojo- senpai?”

The boy doesn’t answer that. He just tilts his head a little, like he’s weighing the next words he wants to say carefully. Then after a moment, “he’s been…out.”

“Out? Like out of the country?” Yuji asks, trying not to sound impatient. “Is he okay?”

The older boy tries to avoid his gaze, like he knows something. 

“Senpai? Please, if something happened to him...if something’s wrong I’d like to know.” his voice trembles and he’s not sure he’s composed enough to steady it. Panic starts to set in and his mind begins to run into the wrong direction. 

Because what if something really did happen to him. Of course no one would tell him. Why should they? Who is he to Satoru anyway? They don’t owe him anything. A sick feeling twists itself in his guts but before his mind can spiral any further he feels a hand on his shoulder again. 

“Itadori-kun, calm down. Calm down okay.”

He lifts his gaze back up to the older boy, trying to steady his heart from racing. “Senpai..”

“Call me Geto.”

“Geto senpai.”

Geto finally sighs before withdrawing his hand from Yuji’s shoulder. “I promised him I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Why? Is he in some sort of danger? Can’t we help him?”

A slight chuckle escapes from Geto’s mouth before he resigns himself to tell him the truth. “No, no. He’s not in danger. He’s at the hospital.”

“Hospital? Why? Is he sick?” 

Yuji hates to admit it but he detests hospitals. Ever since his grandpa got sick it was like a second home to him. A sense of depression and death always surrounding the hallways. The smell of antiseptic and medication lingering on his clothes and skin when he’d go back home. The visiting hours, strict and cold. Those walls hold no happy memories for him.

“No he’s not sick. His mother is.”

The words hit Yuji harder than he expects. 

“..What?” His voice comes out soft and quiet. “Sick how?”

***

Coma

Coma 

She’s been in a coma for three years. 

That’s all that rings in Yuji’s head as he’s already halfway on his way to the hospital. 

He barely hears the way his footsteps slam against the pavement, barely feels the burn climbing up his thighs. All he knows is that he has to be there. 

Satoru barely ever talked about his parents to him. But he remembers the one time he asked and Satoru admitted they were trying to mend their relationship after he returned from Sendai. But it’s been three years and the realization of the timing couldn’t be more devastating. 

Yuji feels so stupid, feels a twist in his gut for not putting the pieces together, for not asking more questions. For letting Satoru sit with this pain all alone. He’s also mad that Satoru kept this from him. He’s mad to think maybe this is why Satoru ended their friendship. Did he think Yuji couldn’t handle it? 

He knows what it is to face a dying relative, but he doesn’t know the feeling of being stuck with them in a plane of life and death. Not knowing if or when they’d be back. Time stops and prevents you from letting go, or from grieving. 

By the time he arrives at the hospital Geto was gracious enough to inform him about, his heart is already racing from more than just the sprint. The automatic doors slide open and a burst of cold air hits him, making him flinch out of the heat and his own racing thoughts. 

Inside, everything is just as familiar as he remembers even though it’s a different hospital; White walls, white floors, the sterile hum of machines and the faint smell of hopelessness. 

He walks up to the front desk, trying to hide how winded he is. “Um, excuse me,” he says, his voice still a little caught in his throat. “I’m looking for a patient. I don’t know her first name. But last name is Gojo? Actually no, wait...I uh, I’m looking for a son. Satoru Gojo. He’s about this tall,” he tries to gesture with his hands. “Uh...white hair, wears very ridiculous glasses.”

The nurse gives him a once-over, clearly not impressed by the half-sweaty teenager panting in front of her. 

“Are you family?”

“No, but I’m–I’m a friend,” he says quickly, then adds, “please.”

“Sorry, visits to that room are limited to family only.”

Yuji blinks, clearly caught off guard. “But I’m not–I mean I just really want to see my friend. I’m not gonna stay long.”

She gives him a look that’s not unkind but firm. “It’s a special request from the family, sorry nothing I can do.”

He sighs and bows in show of respect and backs away.

With no other way to contact him—no number, no social media, no address, Yuji quietly walks to the waiting area to find a seat. Tucked behind a pillar, next to the vending machine. He tells himself he’d wait a little. Just enough to maybe catch him on his way out. Five minutes, maybe ten.

But then ten becomes twenty and then longer.

The chairs aren’t exactly built for comfort, his eyes feel dry, limbs feel heavy from the morning’s practice, and despite how awful the lighting is and the occasional beeping and echoing from down the hallway…he nods off. 

When he regains awareness, it’s because he feels a presence and the trail of soft fingers tracing his face. The touch—distant but familiar enough to ignite the heat beneath his skin. 

He doesn’t want to stop it. He wants to live in this moment—this moment he’s only been used to chasing in his dreams. 

He smells his familiar scent and it makes him feel safe. It’s almost enough to make him want to cry.

He lets him linger, just a little bit longer before he slowly opens his eyes, all drowsy and unfocused. 

It’s Satoru in all his bedraggled glory. He looks so tired it’s enough to break Yuji’s heart. 

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at the realization that Yuji is awake and staring at him. He shifts back, just enough space to draw a line between them, but not so much that it feels like a rejection. Just…hesitation. 

“You still sleep like that,” Satoru murmurs. His voice, low and devoid of any teasing. “Mouth half-open without a care in the world where you are.”

Yuji sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes as the haze of sleep clears.

It’s been days and just like that, Satoru is right in front of him–just inches away. 

“I didn’t know,” he finally says, quietly and soft like he’s afraid his words might crack something that’s already broken. “About your mother.”

Satoru doesn’t respond at first. He pulls his hood over his hair and exhales like he’s been holding his breath in all day.

“I take it Suguru couldn’t keep his mouth shut.” he mutters under his breath

“Suguru?”

“Black hair, weird bangs. Always looks like he’s about to sell you something too good to be true.”

“Oh, Geto senpai. Sorry, don’t blame him, I kind of forced him into telling me.”

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. You don’t have to worry about it. You should go home.” There’s no anger in his voice—just resignation and maybe a little embarrassment to have Yuji see him like this. He stands up and leans his head back against the wall, resting his head there for a second with his eyes closed.

Yuji watches him quietly before steeling his resolve. He stands to get closer to Satoru. 

“Is this what happened three years ago? Is this why you cut me off?” Yuji is not shying away from it anymore. He wants to know now, he’s ready to open up those cans of worms. There’s no accusation in his voice. Just a plea for the truth.

Satoru flinches ever so slightly, like the words managed to catch him unawares.  

“Yuji...” he says his name like a prayer. It’s the first time Satoru has dared to utter his name since they met at school.

Satoru shakes his head. “This...this has nothing to do with that.”

“But your mother has been in a coma for three years. It’s the same amount of time you’ve been gone.”

“I said it’s not related.”

Yuji’s hands curl into a fist at his sides. “Why won’t you tell me the truth? You don’t think I can handle it?”

Satoru looks at him then. His eyes are heavy and tired and burdened with things left unsaid, and his silence speaks louder than anything else. 

Yuji steps back a little, his chest tight with unexplained emotions. “You’re lying.”

“I’m protecting you,” Satoru says faintly, more to himself than to Yuji.

“What?”

But Satoru doesn’t repeat it. His gaze slips to the floor before he sighs and shifts his weight off the wall, walking past Yuji. 

“Listen, it’s getting late, I’ll get a taxi to take you back to the dorms. You don’t want to miss your classes or practice tomorrow. You’re not me, you can’t afford to do that.”

Deflecting, always deflecting. 

Yuji is about to say something else, to argue that they talk things out when he notices Satoru’s phone. 

Dangling from the edge of his phone case. 

He remembers it. A sloppy medley of two colours woven together by clumsy childhood hands. Pink and white. The colours he picked to craft their friendship bracelet. It’s worn, frayed but still intact. 

Yuji freezes. His voice comes out strained, “You still have that?”

Satoru stops scrolling through his phone and follows his eyes before it lands on the object of his focus. He tenses but doesn’t speak. 

They both soak in the brief silence before Yuji breaks it.

“How am I supposed to believe you don’t care about me anymore,” he whispers, “When you still carry proof contrary to that?”

Satoru’s lips part like he might say something, but nothing comes out. 

Yuji doesn’t wait to argue any further. He doesn’t wait for confirmation nor a rebuttal. He simply turns, walking away from him. 

If Satoru won’t tell him what really happened, he'll just have to find out for himself. 

Chapter Text

Yuji should be filled with anger or frustration, but there’s a certain level of calm that’s running within him instead. 

It had only been a glimpse, but for a few seconds he finally saw what he spent three years denying he wanted—for Satoru to throw him a life line.

To show him any signs that he didn’t mean what he said that night. 

Yuji remembers fighting against it the first couple of weeks after his last call with Satoru. He had stayed up waiting, wishing, wondering, hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding and Satoru was going to call him any day now and apologise. But as time went on, he never did and Yuji had to come to terms with the possibility that he really meant everything he said to him that day. 

But after tonight, he knows it’s not true—at least not entirely. He just doesn’t know why. 

He’s determined to find out what really happened now. He doesn’t want half truths anymore. He wants the whole thing, even if it hurts.

But he doesn’t even know where to start. 

Now that he thinks about it, what does he really know about Satoru’s life as it is? 

He’s never met his parents, he doesn’t know any other relatives of his. Were they always just living in their own worlds never fully immersing themselves in either?

His mind slowly drifts back to Geto. Maybe Geto senpai would know something since he knows about his mother. 

He’s still wandering outside after leaving Satoru at the hospital. Midnight is already drawing near and with it comes chills that Yuji is unprepared for. 

Having spent a month here in Tokyo already, he’s still not used to the bustling city life. He’s spent most of his time in school or practicing and hasn’t had too many opportunities to explore.

The shock of the news about Satoru’s mum had him rushing out of school without his wallet or his phone. He didn’t care about anything else then, only getting to the hospital—getting to him.He’d run as fast as his legs could take him and now nearing midnight he’d be lucky to get on a train without a pass.

Now that reality has seeped back in, slow and embarrassing, he knows he’s going to get chewed out by the head security at the dorms for coming back so late. So slight trails of regrets drip from his body as he walks on, wondering how he’s going to get back. 

While he’s thinking of how exactly he’s going to weasel his way back into the dorms, a low honk from a car draws him out of his thoughts. 

At first he plans to ignore it. But when he hears it for a third time it becomes clear that it’s directed at him. 

It halts him in his steps. He turns, glaring a little, ready to wave it off, but instead he finds a sleek black car pulled up beside him with tinted windows, very reminiscent of a car he’d once been in a very long time ago. 

The driver-side door opens and out steps a man of average height, dressed in a black suit. He doesn’t look particularly threatening, but he has the kind of calm presence that screams he could be if he wanted to.

He’s about to ask what’s going on when—

“Itadori-San?” he asks politely, his tone very neutral. “Please get in the car. I've been asked to take you home.” 

Yuji blinks at him confused and instantly on guard. 

“Why would I get in the car with you? I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s courtesy of Gojo sama. He asked that you be taken back safely to your dorm.” 

“Gojo sama?” 

“The young master Gojo Satoru. He ordered that I take you home immediately.” 

Yuji frowns, instinctively stepping back. He’s not sure why but the very idea that Satoru can just throw out orders and expect everyone to dance to his tune infuriates him. 

Why does he care how he gets back? He keeps confusing Yuji and it’s driving him insane. 

“Is he in the car?” Yuji shouldn't care but his heart races at the thought of him being there despite it all. 

“No. He already found his way home. But he insisted you not be left to wander alone tonight.”

A pang of disappointment flashes across Yuji’s face. Would him being there change anything anyway? 

Yuji sighs, “That’s great and all, but respectfully, I don’t know you. And I’m not really in the habit of getting into stranger’s cars.” 

The man’s smile is small and polite. “Understandable. But if it helps, I also have instructions to speak to your dorm’s head on your behalf. They’ve also already been informed of our impending arrival. So things could get really awkward if I don’t get you back in one piece and Gojo sama might have my head.” 

“Have your head? What is this, the 16th century?” 

He doesn’t intend it to be funny, but it draws a chuckle out of the older man regardless. In a way that disarms him even more. Yuji takes in his countenance and relaxes a little. He might be frustrated to hell and back with Satoru right now, but he’s also not stupid enough to turn down this stroke of luck coming his way. 

“Fine, I’d go with you.” He says finally. Taking several steps towards the car. 

The driver is quick to rush ahead to open up the door for him before he can do it himself. Yuji is forced to assume this is just part of what he does for Satoru everyday. But it’s one problem at a time. 

For now he gets in the car and gears up to deal with the shit storm that tomorrow will surely bring. 

***

“Where the hell were you yesterday?” 

The question isn’t weird or particularly strange to ask, what makes it stand out though, is who’s asking and the tone with which they are asking. 

Yuji is caged up by the front of his dorm room door getting vehemently questioned by Megumi. It’s the most passionate Yuji has ever seen him be about anything. 

Yuji scratches the back of his head. “Hey Fushiguro.” 

“That’s all you’ve got?” 

Yuji winces. “I mean…good morning?” 

The clear tension in Megumi’s shoulders and firm sternness on his face is slightly nerve wracking for Yuji. He’s very clearly not amused. “You missed the dorm curfew yesterday. You didn’t come back until who knows when and I tried covering for you but didn’t even know what I was covering. I couldn’t reach you on the phone either.” 

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t have my phone with me,” Yuji mutters. 

Megumi stares at him more intensely. “You just left your phone?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

For a second Yuji almost brushes it off. Contemplates saying something meaningless but ever since his talk or lack thereof with Satoru last night, he’s made up his mind to stop lying about their relationship. At least not to Megumi or Nobara.

“I went to the hospital,” he says succinctly. His eyes lock on to Megumi’s whose expression sharply softens and his eyes flash with slight worry. 

“Hospital? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m fine. I actually went because of someone else. Because of….Gojo senpai.” 

“Gojo senpai? What? Did he do something to you?” Megumi’s expression hardens, like he’s ready to fight Satoru if it comes down to it. Yuji finds it endearing. 

He chuckles lightly, “No he didn’t.” He hesitates a little bit, locking his gaze onto Megumi’s. He wants to tell the truth—the whole truth, but the news about Satoru’s mother isn’t his to share. It feels like something sacred, especially with how guarded Satoru looked when he caught him there.  So he goes for the only truth he’s in a position to share. “After I spoke to you and Kugisaki about him not showing up for our lessons the last two weeks I asked around and finally found him at the hospital. I can’t really go into details, but the truth is…I lied when I said I didn’t know who he is.” 

Megumi angles his body closer to Yuji, all the tension finally easing out of him. “ Yeah, I kind of figured. You weren’t exactly as subtle as you think you are. Your face shows everything you’re thinking most of the time.” 

Yuji chuckles again, humourless this time. “Guess I’m not that good at hiding it huh.” 

“No.” Megumi says bluntly. 

Yuji exhales as his fingers curl lightly into the hem of his shirt as he looks down at his feet, swaying a little before finally speaking. “We used to be friends—best friends, about three years ago.” 

Megumi doesn’t lend his voice to the conversation, he just listens on.

“I don’t really know what happened back then,” Yuji admits. “We were in a long distance friendship of sorts with me living in Sendai and him in Kyoto, we couldn’t really meet up as much as we liked. But we made it work.” He smiles, as if reminiscing on his childhood. “But one day, on my twelfth birthday he came to Sendai to surprise me. And god I was so happy Fushiguro, so fucking happy. It was the happiest I had ever been. Turns out he and Jiichan had planned the whole thing. I should have been upset for being left out but I didn’t even care. He was there—right there by my side, in the flesh and nothing else mattered to me.” he sighs, shutting his eyes a bit before he continues. 

“He spent the whole weekend with us, and we had so much fun. Got me my first phone and everything. When he left I was crushed but he promised we’d see each other again and even though I was sad I was ready to hold on to that promise. When he got back home though everything changed. He didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. I thought something awful happened to him and I got a little scared until one day he finally reached out. One day we were just us….and the next he wanted nothing to do with me. He changed his number and I guess he also moved out because all the letters I tried to send after that got returned.”

A beat passes between them. He’s not sure what exactly is going through Megumi’s mind. The silence is charged as if he’s just waiting to hear more.

“I didn’t plan on seeing him again,” Yuji continues, his voice quieter now. “Not like this and now he’s everywhere. In my schedule, my routine, my head.” He says the last part just for himself.

Megumi studies him for a moment, absorbing everything Yuji just told him. “Is that why you ran off yesterday?” 

Yuji shrugs. “Kind of. I found out something about him. Something I didn’t know. It just made me realize how little I know about him now—how much he’s always kept me in the dark. And I want to find out what really happened back then, why he left me behind.” 

“Why don’t you just ask him now.” he says, tilting his head slightly.

“I tried at the hospital, but he won’t say. I think maybe I can try asking Geto senpai. He’s the one who told me where to find Sato—I mean Gojo senpai yesterday.” 

“Well, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s going on. Just be careful you don’t get too lost in chasing down a truth you might not want to know or getting too lost in him.” 

Yuji’s eyes brighten in surprise at Megumi’s response. He has no idea what he was expecting him to say. Maybe he was expecting more skepticism or push back. But he seems more laid back about it.

“I mean it,” He adds. “He clearly meant something to you. Maybe he still does, I don't know.”

Yuji looks away, his jaw tightens a little bit. He doesn’t respond to that but Megumi’s words land heavier than he expects. 

“But you also have to remember why you’re here. I told you before, Gojo senpai is different from us. The type to not show up at school for some time and not get any real punishment for it. You can’t afford to do the same Itadori. You have the national qualifiers next month don’t you?” 

Yuji nods in response. 

“Yeah so, I think you should focus on that. If he wants he should be able to tell you the truth. I don’t see why you should be the one chasing for it. 

Ah of course. He thought Megumi sounded way too supportive but this is more like him. He can’t hold it against him. He knows he’s right. While he’s been consumed by this whole thing he’s not even sure what Satoru really thinks. Clearly Satoru has his own issues to deal with, but so does Yuji. His grandpa has sent him here for a reason. Satoru was a non factor he never would have seen coming. It’s thrown him off balance the last month. Maybe he is getting too wrapped up in him. Maybe he needs to remember what’s really important. 

He looks up at Megumi again. They aren’t that far apart in height, but it’s still enough to remind him who’s standing steady. His face is neutral again, unreadable—but Yuji knows where his heart lies. Megumi is just looking out for him and that means more than he can put into words. 

Perhaps this is what his grandpa meant by not caging himself up, allowing himself to let people in again. In just a month he’s come to really appreciate having both Megumi and Nobara around. They couldn’t be more different from each other. But he cherishes them both all the same.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. You’re a really great guy you know.” He says freely, all smiles and teeth. 

Megumi’s face turns red, heat rising up his cheeks, clearly caught off guard. He tries to turn away, but it’s no use. Yuji has seen it all and he laughs heartily in response. 

“C’mon let’s go before we're late to class.” He's already half turned around, walking towards the exit. 

Yuji smiles and runs up to him, swinging an arm over his shoulder, drawing him close. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He doesn’t say anything as Yuji turns away. He just stands there, his breath caught in his lungs replaying his words:

How am I supposed to believe you don’t care about me anymore when you carry proof contrary to that .

This isn’t the first time he has left him in the wake of finding his breath, grasping to catch it, grasping for control.  

It feels just like he felt the day he found out he had transferred to his school. 

The classroom smelled like floor polish and old chalk, just as nauseating and stale as he finds the smell of hospitals. 

He'd been sitting by the window, leaning like it scraped too close to the edge of the universe, just the right amount of uncomfortable to keep him grounded. Tapping his pen against his temple, his sunglasses barely filtering all the sun raining down through the clouds outside. No one questioned it. No one ever questioned him. 

They never do.

Classes had dragged on that day—the kind that seemed to last twice as long. One of those insanely mundane days. Shoko and Suguru had already left, probably halfway through their lunch. He was never a fan of school food, even worse, the people in the school, so he never made a habit of going to the cafeteria often.

He’d planned on sneaking off to the music room. To play something—maybe something loud and dramatic to get his mind off things, to get his bones to vibrate with rhythm and shut off all the noise in his head.

He was just about to head out of the class when he heard it.

“...from Sendai, right? The countryside school? Weird pink hair—” 

“Yeah, the track and field guy.”

Satoru froze mid step. Pink hair . 

It’s a coincidence , he told himself. Pink hair wasn’t rare, people dyed their hair that colour all the time.

So he rolled his eyes and kept moving. The last thing he needed was to start spiraling on a maybe.

But then he overheard them some more. 

“Now that he’s here, if he has as much potential as coach says, we might make up for the fluke from last year.” 

Here?

Against every cell in his body that screamed for Satoru to leave it alone, to keep walking, to let it fall on deaf ears—he turned back. He walked up to them casually, hands in his pockets, wearing that infamous smirk like an armour. 

“Oi,” he said suddenly, catching the boys off guard. “This new kid, where’d you say he was?” 

The two underclassmen blinked like deers caught in headlights. Both boys shouted out his name in surprise. “Gojo senpai!” 

Satoru ignored the loudness of their voices to ask, “Pink haired boy, location?” 

One of them stuttered out something unintelligible before the other blurted out, “Uh–I don’t know senpai. Maybe try the cafeteria. We aren’t too sure, but most students are there right now,” 

Satoru wasted no time. He ran, down the hallway, through the corridors, past confused stares and unfamiliar faces. 

He just wanted to know if it was really him. Just a glance would be enough—enough to confirm what his heart silently wished was true. 

He paced himself as he approached the cafeteria. His heart hammered against his ribs, like it remembered something it had long forgotten to beat for.

Please

He begged. Not sure what for. 

Not him ( please be him ).

His mind and heart were at odds.

He stepped into the cafeteria. He could already hear all the voices and whispers. Everyone always had something to say about him. Loud and annoying voices. 

But he drowned them all out. They weren’t the target of his aim. They weren’t why he came here. His eyes scanned through the crowd, and at first he didn't find him. 

Maybe he was too hasty—too hopeful and needy for someone he had long abandoned. He was about ready to turn back. 

Then he saw it. His favourite shade of cherry-blossom pink. It could only belong to one person.

He really was there, sitting at a table at the back.

It was his Yuji. Unmistakably him.

He looked older. The softness of his boyhood face had been replaced by sharp lines. His shoulders were broader now with a slightly taller frame. Everything about him was still heartbreakingly familiar. 

Time had not dulled him at all. If anything it had made him more vivid. Satoru always saw him as the sun, and in that moment he shined brighter than anything else in that room.

It didn’t take long for Yuji’s eyes to find him. Somehow even after three years, getting those honey brown eyes on his was enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

The whole world came to a halt. The world only consisted of them now. The light, the stares, the voices, the years between them. It felt like time rewound back to when they were just kids. Just two boys with no care for much else in the world but each other. 

He wanted to breach the gap. The space between them suddenly made his skin crawl, aching with the raw need to pull him into his arms. To hug him and pretend like their reality was anything than what it was.

And for just that moment he forgot he was the reason why he had no right to do that.

He didn’t know how long he stared, but it was long enough for his carefully built walls to start cracking. So he did the only thing he could. 

He looked away. 

He forced his legs to move, to go anywhere else but here. He looked and spotted Suguru and Shoko at the corner, still weaving through the lunch, paying no mind to the dissonance clearly caused by his presence. 

He walked over and plopped into one of the seats at their table. He reached for a bottle of water, putting on a show of nonchalance. But inside he was unraveling. 

Suguru  raised an eyebrow over his carton of strawberry milk, while Shoko feigned ignorance, playing a game on her phone. At first, none of them said anything but then Shoko looked up and decided to break the silence. 

“Since you clearly want to be asked, what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a fucking ghost.” She said, her tone as flat as possible.

Satoru grabbed her milk drink instead of answering, taking a long sip of it like it could wash away the quake in his chest. It’s the sun rays,” he said coolly. “It’s making me look dramatic.”

“You are dramatic,” Suguru deadpanned, poking at his food.

“What happened, I’m not gonna ask a third time.” Shoko retorted. 

Satoru shrugged, way too hard. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect the cafeteria to be filled with so many ugly faces.” He was deflecting and he knew it. But he wasn’t sure exactly how to approach the topic. 

He had told them about him before. But he had no idea he would ever see Yuji again, especially not in his school.

“Your reflection is in the glass behind me.” Shoko responded.

“Shokoooo,” he whined. “You wound me.” 

His deflection was going offbeat, and Suguru, being Suguru, didn’t let it slide.

“What did you see, Satoru?”

There was silence that stretched on way too long and they both knew he wasn’t just being annoying. Not this time.

He contemplated lying to them, making a dumb joke about it or just ignoring them further. But he stole one more glance towards Yuji’s table. His attention, no longer on Satoru. 

He sighed and finally admitted to it. 

“Yuji. He’s uh…he’s here.” 

That got their attention. Shoko’s brows raised and Geto blinked slowly. “Yuji, as in, the pink haired boy you’re obsessed with from your childhood?” 

Satoru almost nods until Suguru’s last remark registered in his mind. “Haha,very funny Suguru. I am not obsessed with him, okay? He was just really important to me.” 

“Yeah, whatever you say Satoru.” 

Satoru locked his gaze onto Suguru’s. Thinking of hitting him, but decided to choose peace instead. “Anyway, yeah he’s here. Apparently he just transferred to the track and field team.” 

Satoru ran his fingers through his hair, still very off balance from seeing Yuji after so long.

He waited for more questions or any comment about how he found out, or if he’d run into him himself. But instead Suguru just said, “You okay?” 

It was just two simple words. Nothing grande or complicated. But he didn’t know what to say to that. He was silently grateful that Suguru knew not to ask anything else because he always somehow knew when to draw the line. It was one of the reasons why he wasn’t too opposed to becoming his friend. 

It’s precisely why right now he can call and chew his ear out. 

The phone rings out, once then twice before Suguru picks up.

“You asshole. You told Yuji where to find me.” 

“Hello to you too, Satoru.” Suguru responds. His voice teasing. Very well aware that Satoru can’t do anything about it. “ So...how did it go? Did you both hug, kiss and make-up?” 

“Fuck you.” Satoru responds, no real bite behind his bark. He sighs frustrated as he leans his head to the wall.

He’s already sent his driver after Yuji. At the very least that should be taken off his list of worries. A part of him wanted to run after him. To drag him back and yell at him 

Of course I care.

Of course you matter. I miss you. I’m sorry. 

Anything. 

Anything that would wipe that expression of sadness that he carries around with him now. His earthly smiles and bright personality feels like they’ve been snuffed out of him. 

Satoru hates that he might be the reason for that. His soul aches at the thought that he’s caused him so much grief. 

He must have been silent for too long because Suguru clears his throat to get his attention back. “Listen Satoru, I know you’re still keeping him in the dark because of your father and everything, but don’t you think you’re just hurting him and yourself? You’re no longer fifteen years old. We’re in our final year and soon you’d be out from under your father’s thumb. I think maybe you should just let yourself be free to do what you want. It’s okay to want to be by his side.” 

Satoru sighs, taking a seat back down on one of the hospital lounge chairs. “It’s not that simple Suguru. You know…you know what he did to my mother. I’m still…I’m still trying to find the evidence for that without garnering too much suspicion. And I can’t afford to get Yuji caught up in all that. He doesn’t need all that. Not right now. I don’t think I can bear it if anything ever—”

“It won’t, Satoru,” Suguru intejects. Attempting to stop Satoru’s mind from spiraling. “You should have seen him today. When he came asking for you. The fear in his eyes when he thought you were hurt. You can’t fake that.” 

Satoru’s heart breaks harder. He’d been gone for almost two weeks now. His mother had an emergency caused by a blood clot going to her lungs. She’d long been stabilized but he was too scared to go back to school—scared that somehow his absence would cause problems again.

Yuji had run to him after finding out. Despite Satoru abandoning him. Despite not knowing anything else. He’d come, he had waited for him and Satoru had hurt him again. 

He keeps doing it—even when all Satoru wants to do is hold onto him. 

He sits there for a long time after Suguru hangs up. The silence that surrounds him is a strange kind of loud. 

He tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. His phone vibrates beside him, a message lighting up the screen. It’s from his driver. 

Dropped him off safely, Gojo sama.

He exhales, relieved that he had accepted the ride and gotten home safe. 

Suguru’s words loop in his mind, relentless and inconvenient. He’d mentioned being free to do what he wants. But he’s never been free. Raised in a cage of glass walls; expensive, polished and fucking suffocating. He’s never known how to want without consequence. 

The past month since Yuji came back into his life has been the best month he’s had in years. Even though things aren’t the same as they used to be. 

Yuji drew a clear line. Not that he can blame him. He did this to them—he broke them. 

But just seeing him in such close proximity has been enough. A blessing he never would have counted on the moment he told him goodbye all those years ago. 

It’s selfish that he wants more. He covets every moment, every glance, every breath. He wants it all to himself but he’s still tethered to his father with claws in everything he breathes.

He leans forward placing his elbows on his knees. He rubs his hands over his face frantically. The ache in his chest hasn’t dulled and Suguru’s voice still echoes like a conscience he can’t shut off. 

He wants to protect Yuji. Always has. But maybe protection doesn’t mean distance, maybe it never did. 

He’s so exhausted. 

So tired of feigning indifference. Tired of fearing his father’s shadow. Tired of caring in silence like it’s a crime. 

The truth is, he’s not sure if things will ever be safe. 

But after tonight, he doesn’t want to keep watching him from a distance.  He fiddles with the bracelet on his phone. Running his fingers over it. The way it's always grounded him all these years.

He’s so close to getting his father where he wants him. Perhaps he can do both. Maybe he can deal with his father and still find a way to be by Yuji’s side.

Chapter Text

Satoru doesn’t return to school until three days have passed. 

It takes more mental convincing than he’s proud of before he is comfortable enough to leave his mother’s side. 

Call him paranoid, but he’s never been good at  leaving her alone, at least not for too long. Not since the “accident.” His father had said it so casually, so dryly, but it didn’t take long before he realised something wasn’t right. 

None of her injuries matched up with what was described and the only person who happened to witness said accident had been his father. Couple that with the multiple calls he got from his mum when he was in Sendai. It was safe to say there was more to it than his father led him to believe. 

But at fifteen, alone and with no one to depend on, what other choice did he have? 

Bite back your tongue, grit your teeth. One day soon. Someday. 

It’s what he’s been telling himself ever since. 

But now Yuji is back, and with him, the clarity Satoru’s been missing. He doesn’t want to drag this out longer than needed. He’s eighteen now. On the cusp of adulthood and everything that comes with it, including making the harsh, sometimes impossible decisions. 

When he walks into school he has one focus in mind: find Yuji. 

But first, Yaga. He’s definitely going to give him shit for being gone longer than promised. 

It’s performative, maybe, because no matter what he does he won’t get into any real trouble at school. His father funds half of the school's resources. The relationship between his family and the school dates back generations. It’s nepotism at its finest. Brazen and disgusting. But he’s not in a position to care anymore. 

His father had thrust him into this school, just like he controlled everything else he does. While he is no slouch and would definitely qualify to attend a school like this of his own merit, it hadn't been the case because he never had a say. 

He cuts through the courtyard, ignoring the small crowd of students gathered outside. 

Their piercing eyes and hushed whispers do little to move him now, but he cringes internally at the fact that Yuji has already been so exposed to their blabbering about him. He remembers the look in his eyes as he beckoned him to defend himself. 

Yuji was right about one thing. In the past he would have crushed these rumours before they ever caught wind. But shortly after he transferred here he had no care for what anyone had to say. None of them matter, nothing they say matters—even if some of it’s true.

But now? he’d be damned if he lets them keep tittle tattling around school while Yuji currently occupies this premises. 

And so with no self restraint at all, he’s already walking up to the crowd. 

“Is there something on my face?” he stuffs his pockets full with his hands. His presence sends a distinct wave of discomfort across their faces. 

He puts on a fake smile. “Oh come now? Why the sudden silence, you were all so chatty just a minute ago.” 

The sea of faces try to ignore his questions. The boys look scared and the girls—they look like they want to eat him whole. 

Typical. 

This is why he just doesn’t bother. They start scattering, muttering something about stupid classes. Heading off to whatever hole they crawled out of.

He sighs, already bored out of his mind and just about ready to turn and leave when he feels someone tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. 

He looks down beside him and finds a head of long brown hair. It’s a girl he can’t remember the name of if you held him at gunpoint but he’s seen her lurking around him. Her face is vaguely familiar in the ways people who try too hard tend to be.

“umm…Senpai…” her lips pucker and her lashes flutter way too exaggeratedly. 

Here we go . 

He doesn’t have to hear the next words from her mouth to know what she wants to say. 

A couple months ago maybe he would have said yes. No, he definitely would have. If for nothing else, but to drown in the attention. To fill in the emptiness he’s become all so used to carrying around with him. 

Whatever the term is, playboy , fuckboy , arrogant heartbreaker. All connotations synonymous with his name. He never cared, as long as he got what he wanted, even if they were all flitting moments. 

But the occupant of the place his heart used to be is back now and so he turns around to her.

“I’m not interested.” It’s harsh and blunt but anything else other than that would have been dishonest and that has just never been his style. 

He walks away, setting back on the path to Yaga’s office. He ignores any other distractions, only seeking to get this over with as soon as he can so he can go find Yuji. 

To no one’s surprise he’s greeted almost immediately by a smack to the head when he goes into his office.

“Oh my God Yaga, can you pretend to be original for once.” he bites back.

“You’re late! You should be groveling on the floor begging for forgiveness.” he retreats back to his desk not sparing him another glance.

He scoffs as he walks further into the office, holding the side of his head that got hit. He slips into the chair across Yaga, totally not pouting after being hit.

“So, how is she?” 

“The same.” He says truthfully.

Over the years, Principal Yaga has become one of the few people he can be honest with. After he had safely deduced he was one of the only people around him not on his father’s retainer, it made talking to him easier.

“You’ve been gone for almost three weeks. Now while you don’t face consequences for your absences, it will still be appreciated if you pretended once in a while to adhere to the school rules.

His face turns downcast. 

It’s not like he’s not aware of his lengthy absence. He didn’t exactly plan it like this. Especially leaving Yuji hanging with no mentoring. 

He’d come to Yaga when he first found out. To beg him to pair Yuji with someone else. It’s bad enough Satoru left him the way he did, but to be forced to be mentored by the very person who abandoned him? He couldn’t think of anything more cruel. 

Yaga had argued back, saying something about Satoru needing to build an air of responsibility and seeing it as an opportunity to care for someone other than himself.

How rude. 

But he wasn’t wrong. 

He’d found himself enjoying it. Not just that, he was extremely good at it. Whether that was because Yuji was so easy to work with or because maybe he just has a knack for this sort of thing, he found himself silently thanking Yaga for his annoying insistence. 

So he finds it in himself to apologise. 

“I’m sorry Yaga. I really thought a week was gonna be enough but things got complicated. I don’t think it’s gonna happen again.” 

Yaga glares at him hard enough to pierce through his soul while Satoru pretends not to be affected.

“I promise.” he relents.

“Your promises don’t amount to much for me anymore Satoru. Remember when you ‘promised’ you’d consider joining the music competition late last year?”

“I ‘promised’ to consider it and I did. Ain’t that good enough faith for ya?” He grins at him like that’s all it’ll take to convince him.

“Not in your dreams.” 

A quiet beat passes between them before Satoru stands abruptly from his chair. Enough time has been spent here already. 

“Well Yaga, this was fun, let’s not do it again.” His shit eating grin is enough to pop a few visible vessels on the principal’s head but he chooses not to let Satoru bait him. 

“By the way before I forget. Your mentee put in a request to go back home. So you’re off mentorship duties for a couple days.” He says dryly.

“Not that I expect you to be saddened by it anyway after leaving him hanging for weeks.” At this point he directs his attention back to the stack of papers on his desk. Probably some administrative bureaucracy to attend to, but Satoru’s head is still ringing from the information. 

“Request to go home? Why?” 

Yaga’s eyes remain fixed on his papers as he responds to Satoru. 

“Not that you care but the forty-ninth day for his grandfather is coming so he went home for that.” 

Forty-ninth day?? 

“Wait. His grandpa…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence because it feels like his mouth goes dry halfway through it.  

His mind stirs through all the signs he's missed, all the things Yuji never said. 

Yaga, sensing his confusion, finally looks up from his desk. “I thought you knew.” 

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? He never bothered to ask about anything. Was never brave enough to get far enough out of his own way. 

Of course Yuji wouldn’t tell him. He doesn’t owe him anything anymore. 

Satoru breathes too shallow, like a cavity has taken space in his lungs knocking the wind out of it. 

He has to go to him. He has to be there. He can’t let him be alone in this, even for a moment longer if he can help it.

He finds his voice again, enough to ask one thing of his principal. 

“I know I just promised that this won’t happen again, but I have to leave. I promise this is the last time I’d ask. You can punish me later. Hell I’d do anything you ask of me. Just please…please let me go to him.” 

It’s the most sincere he’s ever been in the three years he’s known him, and Yaga’s face does little to hide the  sentiment of seeing something impassioned in his eyes. It’s undeniable.

Satoru Gojo is begging for something outside of  himself. 

Even he’d have a hard time denying him permission.

So in an exasperated manner, he answers. “Fine, you can go. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but you need to settle it and stop getting me stuck in the middle of it.” 

He bolts out of there the second he gets the okay. He doesn’t even have the time to say thank you and makes a mental note to apologize later but for now, he has to be wherever Yuji is. 

Satoru doesn’t pay much attention for most of the train ride. The scenery blurs past him, sun-washed and aggressively green. His knee bounces nonstop, riddled with restless energy and nerves burning and prickling under his skin.

He hadn’t even stopped to change. Still draped in his uniform slacks—sweaty and constrained. His mind loops the same reel over and over again with what he wants to say to Yuji when he sees him. 

His fingers twitch over the edges of his phone. He had wanted to call. That was his first instinct—to dial and say ‘ I’m coming to you. I’m sorry.’ but had been infinitely crushed when he realized he didn’t have his number. Not anymore. 

When Satoru had his last call with him, he quickly deleted Yuji’s number— just as quickly as he got rid of his. He knew himself too well. Knew it was only a matter of time before he went crawling back to him. 

And he was right. 

Six months later, he’d tried calling. Yuji’s number, etched easily into his heart, wasn’t difficult to recall. He dialed it, seeking his voice in the shadows of a particularly desolate night. He remembers how vividly his heart had ached at the sound of crippling static and the inevitable silence on the other end. The type that only came with being forgotten.

Just as he had let go of Yuji, Yuji had also let go of him.

The train jerks to a stop with a hiss of brakes, pulling Satoru out of his thoughts. 

He rises too quickly and sprints out of the train like he’s being chased. When he gets down his memories pull him to the last time he’d been here.

Faint memories of teary eyes and unfulfilled promises. He stands still for a moment, unsure of where to start looking for Yuji. 

He decides to start at his house first, unsure if it’s honestly still his. The last thing he wants is to incur any impending awkward moments with a new resident, but he has no other options. He blinks himself back to reality, continuing with urgency to the exit. He hails the first taxi he sees, making his way to Yuji’s house. 

When he gets there, he notices the Itadori name plate still fixed to the front of the house. 

He breathes a sigh of relief. After thanking the taxi driver he walks up to the front gate. His heart pounds with fear of rejection. Thinking of all the multiple ways Yuji could send him away, biting back at the thought that he might not leave even if he asks him to. 

With quiet trepidation, he wipes the sweat off his palm, like that could somehow be a determinant in whether the bell rings out or not. With one final exhale he presses the doorbell. 

One. Twice. Three times. No answer. 

He tries again and again. But no answer. 

Maybe he’s sleeping? Or he’s not home. But where could he be? Satoru thinks. 

His mind racing through what he remembers to be his favourite spots. But he’s not here for leisure. Not really. He’s here for Wasuke.

If it’s for his grandpa’s 49th day then….

He remembers something from when he was last here. A place he’d taken him to during their tour of Sendai. It had been a quiet moment, almost insignificant with the way Yuji was acting about it.

Somewhere between eating, playing games and castle visits, they had dredged through a cemetery tucked behind a grove of trees. He hadn’t said much, only gestured to two headstones side by side and said, “ These are my parents.”

Now that Satoru thinks about it, that probably prompted their conversation later that night about his parents. Yuji had alway let him in. To see all the parts of himself he didn’t show anyone else. Quiet in his loneliness and loud in how willingly he carried someone else’s.

It’s a reach. For all he knows Yuji could be anywhere else, but it’s a start. Even if he has to wait there all day, he doesn’t mind. He’s already kept Yuji waiting for three years too long. 

With that, he calls another taxi without hesitation.

***

As soon as the taxi rolls to a stop, he’s moving, tossing a thank you over his shoulder and breaking into a run before the driver can reply. The route to the cemetery is steeper than he remembers from that day, or maybe his lungs just filled for an early retirement. Either way, he doesn’t stop. 

By the time he sees the gate, his chest is tight and his shirt is clinging to his back. He slows down, his breath hitching as his heart pushes against his ribs like it’s going to break free and then by some stroke of luck or grace, his search for him ends as he sees that familiar head of pink hair. 

He’s sitting on the grass, his back to the world in front of the headstones. Now three.

His shoulders are relaxed with one hand resting on his knee and the other idly picking at something on the floor beside him. 

Satoru stops in his tracks almost like he realizes he might be intruding. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Would Yuji even want him here? Would Wasuke? He’d promised to protect and be there for Yuji but he did neither. Now one is dead and the other alone. 

Before long he hears Yuji’s voice carrying with the wind. It’s low and quiet, clearly not meant for anyone else’s ear.

“I met some good people in Tokyo Jiichan,” he says. “Weird, but good. I think you’d like them. Especially Fushiguro. He’s just like how you always wanted me to be. Quiet, into those weird documentaries you used to like and I’m pretty sure he hates people.” He chuckles, so slight that Satoru almost misses it.

There’s a brief pause. Satoru shouldn’t be listening in like this, he knows it’s wrong but his heart yearns to listen in on the things he doesn’t know about Yuji like these are the only quiet moments he’s gotten to see this side of him in too long.

“I’ve been trying,” Yuji goes on. “Just like you said. Not shutting myself off. Letting people in. I think it’s working kinda. 

Satoru swallows hard. He doesn’t know if it’s guilt or relief squeezing tight in his chest. 

“….Oh and I saw Satoru again.” He drops it casually like he doesn’t know the weight of saying his name like that. It lands soft, but still hits like a punch.

Yuji exhales, tired. “He’s a little….different now. I don’t know. Calmer? Sadder, maybe stranger I don’t know. It threw me for a loop... Seeing him again. I was so shocked, then angry, then sad.” 

There’s a faint huff, maybe a dry laugh, Satoru can’t tell. 

“But overall, I think I missed him more than I thought I would.” 

The admission catches Satoru off guard.

“Sometimes I catch him looking at me the same way he used to. Like nothing ever changed between us. And that…” Yuji breaks off, his fingers curling in the grass. “That messes me up.” 

Satoru shifts and the gravel crunches up underneath his feet. 

Yuji turns at the sound, slowly at first, just a slight glance over his shoulder but then he does a double take when he sights Satoru’s tall frame. 

His body falls still with shock and his eyes widen. He doesn’t speak and doesn’t move. The irony of his location is not lost on him. He stares at Satoru like he’s trying to discern him out of what could possibly be a chilling ghost story later. 

Still, he forces himself to find his voice. “Satoru….” His name comes out soft and raw. “What?...How..?”

“I went to your house but you weren’t there.” He’s walking toward him now, each step feeling heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before he’s standing right in front of him.

Yuji stands up from the ground but he doesn’t make a move otherwise. Standing by the headstones, his eyes not swaying away from Satoru’s even for a moment.

“No. I mean what are you doing here, in Sendai.” 

“Yaga told me. About your jiichan. 

“Can I ask how it happened?” 

Yuji hesitates before he responds. “He was sick. Cancer.” His eyes fall to the ground.

Cancer. 

Satoru’s heart twists in on itself. He’s witnessed the toll cancer brings on families. Droves of people in and out of the hospital his mum stays. Some recover and some never do. It’s never easy, always tasking and incredibly lonely. The thought that Yuji had dealt with it all alone causes him to move without thinking. Between one breath and the next, his arms circle around him, drawing the younger into his embrace.

He’s never been one for words. He finds they never quite suffice for what he aims to convey. Always too short, or too long or not genuine enough. But for Yuji, he wants to try. He always wants to try. 

“Yuji…I’m sorry.” His voice trembles with grief as he tries clumsily to get out all the words he’s been holding in for too long.

“I’m sorry I left you all alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been. Fuck, of course I should have been. I should have been there holding your hand, helping you with grandpa or talking to you every night to put you at ease. I should have been there for the funeral. I’m so sorry I’m late.” 

He still finds that words fall short, so he draws him in tighter. Breathing in his scent and rocking them back and forth.

He doesn’t expect Yuji to return the gesture until he feels smaller hands find their way to the small of his back. 

“You asshole.” That's all Yuji can manage before his body starts to tremble, like he’s also been holding on to the grief. Satoru holds him closer whispering soothing hums as he lets him cry into his chest. 

He doesn’t intend for it to happen. The prickling of his eyes comes first, before the sting travels through to his nose. He knows what’s about to happen but makes no move to stop it. 

A single tear glides down his cheek and then another before he finally comes undone. Being this close to Yuji again—close enough to feel the warmth he let his father steal from him, the warmth that he denied himself, it’s enough to unravel him. The need to take him and lock him somewhere deep in his chest like a cage where no one else can hurt him ever again, including Satoru is strong. 

But he doesn’t move, he just stays there, letting himself be his anchor, grounding them both. 

***

Neither of them notice how much time has passed until a low growling sound breaks the quiet between them. 

They both freeze for a moment. Their heads tilt slightly until Yuji’s face gives him away. He shifts back, not entirely out of Satoru’s embrace, his eyes are still red and puffy from all the crying and his cheeks are tinted in pink from embarrassment. 

He clears his throat looking anywhere but at Satoru. but when Satoru starts chuckling, he can’t help but smile a little. He is reminded of that fateful summer in June when they first met. 

“Your stomach is still so loud and shameless,” Satoru teases. “It’s cute.” 

“It’s not my fault I haven’t eaten all day.” Yuji mutters, pouting as he pulls away fully. 

Satoru watches him like he’s a dream, like he can’t believe they get to talk like this again.

“C’mon then,” he says, his grin soft and sincere now. “Let’s get you something to eat. All that crying must have drained you.” 

Yuji huffs. “You cried too!” 

“Did not!” 

“Oh yeah?” Yuji folds his arms raising a brow, “Then explain the wetness on my shirt.”

Satoru fumbles. “I don’t know…. must have been all that sweat from me running around. Look, look, “he pulls his undershirt forward. “My shirt is still soaked. Ugh now I feel so disgusting I can’t believe I hugged you like this.” 

His hands flail around as he dodges Yuji’s gaze, but it’s only for a moment, before Yuji bursts out laughing. The full chest deep kind that Satoru hasn’t heard in far too long. 

It’s pure in all its mirth and it makes him feel like he’s finally back to where he belongs. 

“I missed this,” Satoru says softly. “I missed you…so much.” 

It’s simple, but it’s honest and it’s enough to make Yuji’s laugh fade away slowly until their eyes meet again. 

This time, Yuji closes the gap between them. He wraps his arms around Satoru’s middle, hugging him tight. 

“I just told you I’m sweaty and disgusting.” 

“Mmm. I know.” 

“And you’re still hugging me?” 

Yuji hums, squeezing him tighter. 

Satoru smiles and wraps an arm around his waist, the other slipping softly into his hair. 

“We still have so much to talk about.” 

“Yeah we do.” Yuji rests his head against him. “But for now…. let’s just stay like this.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” he leans forward, arms folded across the table in front of his chest. “Your father never approved of our friendship and made you cut me off and threatened to have me and jiichan killed if you didn’t?” 

“Not killed!” Satoru protests. “Well, to be honest I couldn’t be too sure at the time.” 

“But hurt in some way, right?” 

“Yeah. My mum was in a coma and I couldn’t risk losing you too.” 

“So instead you chose to lose me so you wouldn’t lose me?” 

It shouldn’t sound as ironic as it does, but he can’t help but marvel at Yuji’s earnestness. It does sound trivial when he spells it out like that. Makes the last three years without him sting even more. He never thought they could have this again. That he’d be back in the one place he’s felt safe and understood. 

Sure, Shoko and Suguru have come to be very important in his life as well. Both very different, and if someone didn’t know any better, they could be seen as cold and unapproachable. But he had been lucky enough to befriend them in his second year. In some ways they had been a solace in a time Satoru couldn’t be bothered to care for anything or anyone else. 

But they accepted him as he was, flaws and all. They weren’t people his father could hold over his head. There was never any incentive to. Suguru comes from a long line of elite lawyers who dabble in the corporate world with just enough prestige to have their own standing in Tokyo, whereas Shoko comes from a family of doctors and engineers dating back generations. 

Just enough class , just enough to satisfy his father’s greed for power. 

You’re finally making connections with the right people . He had said all too gladly. With just enough venom hidden carefully behind it to disrupt Satoru’s whole mood. 

Diminishing the relevance of friendship and love to what others could do for you. 

He abhors it. Always has.

“Helloooo, earth to Satoru.” 

Yuji has his hand in his face, waving him back to reality. He chuckles a little before grabbing onto it. He doesn’t know what gets into his head, but the next second he’s biting one of Yuji’s fingers. 

“Ouch! What’re you doing?” 

What is he doing?

“Sorry. It was right there and I felt the sudden urge to bite it.” He says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re so much weirder now. How’s that even possible?” Yuji asks, sounding almost in awe. 

“You don’t like me like this?” His voice comes out playful but there’s an underlying insecurity beneath it. He feels a little pathetic. But he’s not mad at the fact that a part of him is still weak for Yuji. Weak to his opinions on him. Weak to how he feels about him. 

Yuji speaks up with more volume than he anticipates, “I never said that!”. Willing Satoru to erase the thought away from his mind. Like the idea of not liking any version of Satoru was ever in the realm of possibility. 

It’s every confirmation he’s wanted for the last three years. That Yuji would still accept him, whatever version of him returned to his side. 

He smiles softly before he responds . “Well if you said you didn’t, I would just have to do everything I can to win you back over now wouldn’t I?” 

Yuji’s flushes under the weight of Satoru’s words with his eyes wide in surprise. He clears his throat before he stands abruptly, choosing to empty the table of their plates instead of responding. 

After coming back from the cemetery, they had settled for ordering in instead of eating out. Satoru had argued against it at first. Trying his best to convince Yuji that they both needed to have meals fit for kings in celebration of their reunion. While Yuji had to remind Satoru how late it was and they could always eat outside next time. They went back and forth until Satoru begrudgingly relented, throwing his hands up in defeat as dramatic as ever.

He watches Yuji now as he sways around the kitchen putting everything back where they belong. The ease with which he moves feels calm and sure, heavily reminiscent of Wasuke, even as age visibly winded down his movements. He remembers his promise to him in this very kitchen; To always be by Yuji’s side. Looking now, he didn’t get to keep that promise all the way. But he never broke it, not in the place that matters most. All it has been is a temporary setback he intends to set right.  

“Yuji.” he calls out suddenly. 

“Hmm?” he hums over his shoulder, not turning back to look at him.

“Let’s spend the whole day tomorrow together.” 

He pauses now, turning his full attention to Satoru. “The whole day? What about school?” 

“It’s fine.” He shuffles out of his seat at the table, going around to perch up by Yuji’s side. “I already told Yaga I’d need a day or two off.” 

“Day or two? Satoru you just came off a three week break. Don’t you think–”

“C’mon Yujiiii.” he circles an arm over his shoulder and just like that, the itch to be near him is soothed- easily, so naturally, like no time passed at all. “Think of it as a redo of my last Sendai trip. We can even have an arcade rematch where I can slay your ass one more time.” 

Yuji elbows him in the gut with no real force behind it

“You absolutely did not slay my ass. I was just…having an off day.” 

Satoru can’t help but giggle in response.

“Yep, an off day. I’m sure that’s what it was, Yuji.”

He’s still a horrible liar and an even worse opponent it seems. But that’s okay. He finds it all endearing.

***

They get ready for bed. Yuji hands him an extra tooth brush and clothes to sleep in since he ran to Sendai with no clear plans in sight. 

Then comes the sleeping arrangements. Yuji’s the one getting out the futon this time laying it out neatly for Satoru. A selfish part of him wants to ask to share the bed like they did back then. But they aren’t little kids anymore, the bed won’t fit them at all and so he bites back his desires for another time. They bid each other goodnight as Yuji retreats to his bed and Satoru on the floor. 

Some time passes for what feels like hours when Satoru hears Yuji’s voice in the quiet of the dark. 

“Are you asleep, Satoru?” 

“Yes.” He answers cheekily. He imagines a pout gracing Yuji’s face, probably semi pissed at his redundant answer. 

There’s a brief silence before Yuji continues. “How’s…how’s your mother doing?” 

He asks it like it’s a forbidden topic, like he’s unsure it’s something Satoru wants to be asked at all. 

And Satoru seldom talks about her because the painful truth is, there isn’t much to say. They never got the chance to live in the new phase of what was supposed to be their new relationship. So he has no new good memories to share. 

“She’s—“ 

He doesn’t know what he wants to say. What good could come from killing the mood talking about the fact she still isn’t awake. Struggling between life and death with no assurance of her return. It’s a never ending cycle. So instead he talks about something else entirely. Something he’s been theorizing on for so long. 

“I think my father caused her accident.” 

There’s an audible gasp from Yuji before he springs up from the bed in shock. 

“Your father? Why do you think so?”

“The day of the accident, she called me multiple times but I never—“ he pauses, shutting his eyes as he tries to stuff the guilt back down his guts.

“She never called me that often before, or ever really. What’s weirder were her injuries. There were fractures to her skull like it was caused by blunt force trauma from being hit by someone directly coupled with multiple other abrasions on her body. They don’t add up to typical hit and run cases. Also, my father fired a bunch of our staff that went with them to Tokyo. I think they saw something. I’m trying to find one of them. If they can just get me some kind of proof, something tangible I could use to get my father locked up I—” 

He doesn’t realise he has his fists balled up, nails stabbing into the creases of his palm until he feels the warm touch of softer hands on his. 

Yuji’s on the futon now, right by his side with his face pressed closely to his. 

The room is dark and he can’t make out Yuji’s face clearly, save for the warm glow from the moonlight, but he feels his eyes on him. Thumbs caressing his fists to calm him down. 

The anger welling up inside him subsides and settles into flutters as his heart starts to race. 

There’s something entirely intimate about it. Yuji doesn’t say anything, he just holds his hands quieting the embers of his rage. And like the fool he is for him he melts. Gentle and calm until all that remains are cinders. 

He feels a hand circle around his back pulling him closer and he falls into his embrace. Allowing himself to be held. 

Yuji rubs circles around his back as he assures him quietly. “Whatever you need, Satoru. Whatever I can do to help–just say the word.” 

And he doesn’t have to ask him anything because he believes him. He trusts Satoru’s words and in turn Satoru trusts that Yuji would do anything in his power to help bring his mother justice. 

They fall into place, interlocking like two halves of a long missing puzzle. It’s easy for their hearts to sync as Satoru listens to the soft surrender of Yuji’s breath, swaying to the silent rhythm of sleep. And not long after, Satoru follows, feeling a little less burdened, a little more at peace and with nothing left to resist.

***

Satoru dreams of another life. The scene is blurry but feels desolate. Few things stand out like a bright smile from a figure he thinks is his mother and an unfamiliar softness of a tone he makes belongs to a man shaped like his father. They are holding out their hands to him, calling on him to come closer and it feels strange but not disturbing. He dreams of a world where he’s happy, where they are all happy and nothing else matters but the company of each other. 

He runs to them, his hands reaching for his mother’s. He almost trips but his father steadies him, smiling and encouraging him and he’s elated. His father has never looked at him like that,  he finds he wants to stay in the dream forever. 

They walk hand in hand , destination unknown, but the warmth of their presence ground him. 

He feels the presence of another behind him. He looks and finds a boy crouched down over something on the floor. He can’t see his face but he can see the hue of cherry blossoms. It’s the only thing that’s colored bright in the middle of the greyscale scenery. The color drifts around him like memories out of reach. He’s drawn to it. It reminds him of someone, but he can’t think of a name. 

He intends to reach for him too, a part of him wonders if his light can make his family happier but as he tries to reach for him he feels a firm tug on his right hand. It’s the man holding onto one of his hands, telling him not to go. He tries to explain but his voice won't come out. 

He looks again and sees the boy crying. 

He wonders why. 

He can’t think of a name, but he wonders why his tears bother him so much. He wants to go to him, to comfort him but he doesn’t move. He turns and walks with his parents instead. 

When he looks back one more time, he sees the boy slowly start to fade away. Only then does a name come to mind. 

Yuji. 

“Satoru!” 

“Satoru! Come on, wake up.” 

A gentle shake on his shoulder startles him awake. He recalls his dream as fresh as it had been. He doesn’t get to speak when he feels the press of cold thumbs underneath his eyes wiping off something from his face. 

“Yuji, what are you doing?” He asks, sounding perturbed.”

Yuji’s brows knit as his thumbs pause just under Satoru’s eyes. “You’re crying Satoru. You were crying in your sleep.”

Crying? Why would I—

“Ah, must have been the dream.” He surmises. 

Yuji’s thumbs are caressing his under eyes again when he suddenly realizes how close they are. If he just moves a little further he could—

His eyes widen before he suddenly plants his face into his chest instead. 

It dawns on him that he just thought about kissing Yuji. 

Yuji doesn’t say anything right away. His hands hover awkwardly over Satoru’s back, unsure if he should hold him or let him go, confused and dazed at his sudden dive into his chest. Satoru’s heart is hammering hard and he’s sure Yuji can feel it, should feel it through the thin fabric of his shirt. But if he does he makes no note of it. 

What the hell was that?

He keeps his face buried against him, breathing in shallow and measured breaths. He sniffs his shirt, it’s unintentional but the scent of him fills the depth of his lungs. He smells like something sweet and detergent. It’s different from what he smelled like years ago, but familiar in all its comfort. 

The image of the boy from his dream fading away before him lingers around him. It shouldn’t matter because Yuji’s here with him. It wasn’t real. But he feels the need to confirm it, burrowing himself harder into his chest. 

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Yuji’s voice finally breaks the awkward silence that he created. 

Satoru shakes his head, barely. “Nah. It’s dumb.” 

But it doesn’t feel dumb. He’s not sure if it’s the dream or the fact that he just thought of kissing Yuji that bothers him. It feels like something else has cracked open in him that he’s been ignoring for long. And he’s not sure he’s keen on breaking the friendship they just got back all because of his selfish desires. 

Does Yuji even think of him that way?

He’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to tempt fate when he’s not sure of what he feels either. 

Yuji’s hands finally land on his back and he feels a slow rub bringing him back to reality. It’s comforting. 

“I don’t think you crying in your sleep is dumb,” Yuji murmurs, more to himself than anyone. 

“I wasn't crying, crying,” Satoru mumbles. “Just got leaky eyes or something.” 

Yuji snorts quietly. “Sure. Allergic to mornings?” 

“Mhmm” he hums, choosing to leave it at that. 

They have plans to spend the day together and while he’d love to stay cuddled up in bed he intends to give Yuji a fun day. His dreams and whatever he’s feeling can take a backseat for another time. Right now he intends to make the most of the day. 

They stay quiet for what feels like hours before Satoru shakes free of his hold, swiftly changing the subject and dreary mood. 

“I’m hungry!” He blurts out, too loudly. “You got anything for breakfast? And no, instant noodles are not an option.” 

Yuji giggles a little before he backs up, ready to stand off the futon. 

“What’s so wrong with instant noodles? I’d have you know she’s saved me many times.” 

And Satoru looks at him incredulously, an eyebrow raised. “And why is it a she?” Yuji’s off the floor now dusting his knees and smiling like he has the best explanation ready. 

“I think of instant noodles as comfort, kind of like what a mother is,” he pauses before he corrects himself, sounding less confident. “What a mother should be, I guess.” 

He fidgets at the door as his eyes fall to the ground but his mind clearly travels somewhere else.

And Satoru won’t let him sit in that discomfort for too long. 

“Well if it means that much to you, I guess I can make an exception.” 

“I don’t have noodles right now though.” He smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You made me get all soft for no reason.” 

Yuji’s already turning the door knob to head out the room, and Satoru gets up following suit. 

“You did that all on your own.” He laughs over his shoulders. “We have toast and eggs. Will that do?” 

“Do I have a choice?” 

“Nope.” 

Satoru exhales like a petulant child dragging his feet on the floor. The things he does for him. 

***

After breakfast they get dressed and leave to start their day. 

“We’re in agreement that the arcade comes first right?” Satoru asks with his hands in his pockets as they make their way to the subway. 

Yuji’s distracted on his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. Typing something or texting someone, probably. He can’t make out and he doesn’t ask. He tries not to focus on how that makes him feel. That someone else has his attention other than him. 

But before he can spiral into it, Yuji looks up and grins like he’d never looked away at all. 

“Of course. We’ve gotta start the day off with my guaranteed victory. Or what did you call it last time…. a revenge match?” 

Satoru smirks, “more like a pity rematch. Courtesy of me.” 

Yuji scoffs, puffing his chest out. “Let’s hope you can back it up, rich boy. I’d have you know I’ve been going to the arcade almost everyday for the last three years. I’m somewhat of a legend now.” 

He says as he lifts his chin up in mock pride. 

And all Satoru can do is laugh. 

The train is crowded, packed shoulder to shoulder and Satoru ends up forcefully pinned up against Yuji. He towers over him with one arm outstretched over their heads, and whether intentional or not—creates a barrier between Yuji and the people next to them. It feels intimate and weirdly possessiv. As though he’s safeguarding what’s his. 

He swallows hard. 

The scent he’s starting to really love hits him again  and his heart drums a little too loud in his chest as he watches Yuji in silence. 

Yuji looks up at him, mouthing what he thinks is a ‘ sorry’ before flashing a smile, bright and beautiful. Unaware of what his proximity is doing to him. It becomes clear to Satoru that the train isn’t the only thing that’s tight. 

He’s silently thankful when their stop is announced, giving them the excuse to finally untangle from each other.

The warmth of his body still clings to him as they make their way to the arcade. His thoughts spiral, chasing themselves in circles as he tries to calm himself down.

“Should we make a bet like last time?” Yuji asks startling Satoru out of a daze. 

“Bet?” 

“Y’know… the bet with the desserts.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure we can do that.” But Satoru doesn’t want to bet on just desserts. He wants to bet on something more…something sweeter. 

He looks at Yuji, tries to make out his expression. Yuji always wore his heart on his sleeve, more so than Satoru ever had. It’s also why it stings that he can tell Yuji doesn’t seem as bothered by what happened on the train as he is. 

Suguru had teased that Satoru had deeper feelings for Yuji. He’d been quick to shut it down, convinced it was just a deep kinship. Yuji had been his first real friend. The only one he had for a while. It had to be just that.

But after meeting Shoko and Suguru and now seeing Yuji again, things feel…different. There’s a suffocating desire to be near him, to hold him, to be held by him. 

“Well then let’s get to it.” Yuji smiles hard as he beelines for one of the machines, battle ready.

Satoru decides to shelf his thoughts for later. Instead he wants to sweeten the deal just a little bit, running up to Yuji.

“Winner also gets to ask for anything else from the loser.” 

Yuji tilts his head at him, “anything like anything anything?” he asks, his interest clearly piqued but also threading cautiously. 

“ Anything anything.” And Satoru smiles like a Cheshire cat, knowing he’s going to agree anyway. 

“Deal.” 

Yuji claps his hands like a coach psyching up a team before a championship match. “Alright Satoru, prepare to be humbled.” 

They start with one of the classic rhythm games Dance Dance Revolution. The lights flash and music blares as Yuji picks the hardest difficulty without even blinking. Satoru smirks and mirrors him, but halfway through the first round, he’s already having problems keeping up.

Yuji’s body swerves, moving to the beat like it’s working off of memory alone. Satoru is a bit more chaotic. All flailing limbs and determination. When the round ends, Yuji’s score dominates the board.

“Legend, huh?” Satoru pants like he’s just run a marathon. “Maybe I feel a little more inclined to believe.” His words come out punctuated with every breath he takes.

“Told you.” Yuji flashes a grin, sweat dotting his forehead. “This is my turf now.”

They move on to the fighting games. Satoru finally manages a win. Especially because it becomes apparent Yuji sucks at them. He’s not tactical about it, only pressing as many buttons as he can that would give him critical damage. 

“One for the record books,” he crows. “We’re tied now. Final round?”

Yuji nods, already dragging him toward the racing games. 

They sit side by side in the car seats, grabbing their wheels. The screen counts down–3,2,1– and they’re off. The game is loud, the seat rumbles beneath them and their arms bump more than once as they turn sharply or swerve into each other’s lanes. 

Satoru wants to win, truly. But there’s a part of him that watches Yuji laugh, focused and unbothered, that thinks he wouldn’t mind losing, if it means seeing him happy like this. 

He’s momentarily distracted when Yuji takes the lead and finishes first. He throws his hands up in triumph. “Yes! See! I told you so. In your face!” 

Satoru slumps back against his seat, smiling at Yuji. The absolute joy on Yuji’s face is all the reward he needs.

“Time to pay up Satoru.” 

He fakes a sigh of defeat. “Yujiiii, can’t you see how crushed my spirit is. How would I ever recover from this?” 

Yuji turns to him, leaning a little too close. “Well, you can start by telling me what dessert you’re buying me. And then–” he taps his chin, “— I’ll think of what else I want.”

Satoru eyes meet his, before they wander down to his lips briefly then shaking away his thoughts. 

He stands, clearing his throat and fixing up his shirt that’s already perfectly in place.

“Alright,” he says, his voice comes out a little rougher than he means, “Name your dessert winner-san.” 

Yuji smiles. “I’m feeling Dorayaki and some ice cream. But we can get them later. Let’s go watch a movie first.” 

He doesn’t give him time to register before he’s pulling Satoru by the hand towards the exit. Onward to their next adventure. 

The sun’s started to dip a little by the time they step out, casting everything in orange. Yuji is still holding onto his hand, so casually, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. It feels like they are back to being twelve and nine wandering through the food streets in Kyoto. 

Satoru doesn’t make a move to let go. He lets Yuji lead him wherever he wants. His thumbs brush slightly over Yuji’s knuckles. Marked by time and the wear of being an athlete.

When they get to the cinema, it’s immediately obvious there are no good movies out. Only reruns of chick flicks and poorly rated horror movies. Both right up Yuji’s alley and he doesn’t hesitate to secure them two tickets to one of the horror movies.

Satoru doesn’t complain. He doesn’t see the need to. It’s more time with Yuji. Time to sit with this magma-like feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach and flaring like lava in his chest.

Half way through the movie and a half eaten popcorn bowl later, Satoru starts throwing spoilers his way. Mostly to get a rise out of him, but also because he loves the reactions he makes when he’s annoyed. Rattled and on the verge of throwing popcorn at him, but he doesn’t because he’s sweet like that and Satoru revels in it. 

There are noise complaints from the other handful of attendants. Telling them to lower their voices or get the hell out. Yuji apologizes on his behalf but Satoru could care less what they think. All his attention is on one person only and he likes to keep it that way. 

“You’re the worst.” Yuji exclaims as they exit the cinema, stepping out into the cooling dusk.

Satoru stretches his arms over his head like he didn’t just spend the past two hours being an unbearable menace. “Whaaat? I was doing them a favour. The movie sucked.” 

“Well…true. But still…”

He elbows Yuji gently and slings an arm over his shoulders. 

“It’s fine. They’d never see us again anyway.” 

Yuji shoves him back, half-laughing. “You, maybe. But you forget I’m from here.” 

“Oh shit that’s true.” 

They look at each other for a moment, then they both burst out laughing at the top of their lungs. Without a care where they are or who’s watching. 

It’s the loudest Satoru has laughed in a while. Full and carefree. He finds himself wondering if he can be this happy. If he should be this happy when everything else in his life feels like it’s unraveling. 

He wonders if it’s okay for him to be selfish like this. To keep this joy all to himself. 

He’s about to make a remark when Yuji’s phone rings, pulling them out of the moment. 

Yuji glances at the caller ID briefly before smiling and answering. 

“Yo, Fushiguro. What a surprise.” 

Fushiguro. He’s heard that name in passing before. Maybe back home or in school he’s not so sure.” 

“Yeah I’d be back tomorrow probably.” 

“Yeah it went okay.” 

Satoru wants to act above it all. To pretend like he doesn’t notice Yuji’s smile as he answers this Fushiguro on the phone. Wants to act unbothered by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughs so easily like those sounds hadn’t been exclusively reserved for him alone. 

He hates that he feels this way. 

Hates that he feels so territorial. 

Maybe he’s afraid of losing Yuji again when he just got him back—scared that he’d decide that he doesn’t need him anymore, now that he’s not the only person in his world.

“—good to know. I’d talk to Later then, Fushiguro.” 

He hangs up the phone, his lips still stretched into a smile when he turns to Satoru to speak. 

“Okay where to next?” 

“Who’s Fushiguro?” 

“Huh?” Yuji blinks. “Oh he’s a friend of mine. He’s kinda brooding but he’s actually super nice.” 

Ah. Satoru remembers. He’s one of the people Yuji mentioned at the graveyard. 

“You have other friends now huh?” He tries his best to sound casual but Yuji answers like he can see right through his thoughts. 

“We both do,” he says simply. “You have Geto senpai and uh…. I never got the name of the girl.” 

“Shoko. Ieiri Shoko.” 

Yuji clicks his tongue. “Okay you have Geto and Ieiri senpai. I have Fushiguro and another friend, Kugisaki. She’s kinda insane, but she’s good. I think you’d like her or absolutely hate each other now that I think about it.” 

He places his hand to his chin, as if to psychoanalyse the importance of what their possible dynamic could mean for the world. 

“Either way,” Yui shrugs. “We have our friends. But we’ll always be Satoru and Yuji.” 

“Like Bonnie and Clyde?” Satoru humours him. 

“Mmmm way too toxic.” Yuji snorts. 

He turns back to Satoru. His expression is sincere as any playfulness melts away from his face.

“I meant we’d always be us. I think in every universe, there’s a me and there’s a you and they mean something to each other. Whatever form that takes.”  

Whatever form that takes. 

It loops in his head like a song on repeat as they head to dinner. Shoulders brushing once more as they walk.

It hums behind every photo they take, laughing at the same spots they stood in years ago, both of them a little taller and a little different now.

It’s there again, pulsing behind his ribs when Yuji drags him to the shrine. He throws in a coin and shuts his eyes. He thinks he makes a new wish, but he’s not sure it’s any different from the last one.

Yuji tells him to save the desserts for the next day, citing how late it’s gotten and he doesn’t object as his mind stays distracted by a new truth blooming out of him.

***

When they get home, the fatigue of the day starts to find its way into their bones. 

Yuji heaves a tired sigh as he takes off his shirt, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. 

And God help him, Satoru is not ready for what he sees. Whatever image he had of Yuji in his head from before quickly pales in comparison to the real thing. Molded in all the right places, the chisel of his abs and the firmness of his arms. His collarbones frame the path for sweat to glide down his neck trailing down his chest. 

Satoru’s face flushes hot like a shy virgin. He tries to look away but fails miserably.

It’s embarrassing. 

“Satoru, are you okay?  You’re all red.” 

“I’m fine, "he mutters, already halfway to Yuji’s room, red faced and horrified by his own thoughts. 

He shuts the door behind him, sliding down to the ground. 

He draws his knees closer to his chest and palms his face with both hands. Everything has been so heightened and intense today. It’s taking a toll on him. And now he’s looking at Yuji like he’s a snack ready to be eaten.

He’s peeling away at his thoughts when he sees a box at the far end of the bed. It catches his attention because it’s labeled with his name on it. 

He crawls forward to pull it out of its corner. He pries the box open and finds letters in them. 

Most of them, never sent. 

It's the letters Yuji wrote when they weren’t speaking. 

He feels guilty reading them. But he wants to see the things Yuji may never tell him because he’s always cautious of his feelings. 

They read sad, and regretful. Most filled with self blame and unanswered questions. He finds pale blotches on some. An indication of water spilling or tears falling. 

He reaches into the box and finds a phone. It’s the one he got for Yuji on his twelfth birthday. It still looks new and untouched, like it had served its purpose for only a short while. 

He’s thumbing over the screen for a few minutes when Yuji walks in with water dripping down his face and dressed in fresh pajamas. 

He feels caught in an act he isn’t supposed to partake in. He’s about to apologize when Yuji speaks first. 

“It’s okay. I was either gonna show them to you or throw them away anyway.” 

“Why aren’t you more mad at me?” Satoru asks. 

“Mad at what? You sniffing around?” he chuckles. “It’s fine I'm not hiding anything anyway.”

“No, not that.” Satoru shakes his head. “About this,” he points at the letters. “About all of this. The last three years. Even if I had good reasons. It wasn’t right. How I left. How I made you agonize. Why’d you forgive me so easily?” 

“I was.” Yuji sits on the floor beside him. “For a long time I was mad. At you, at myself. Even at Jiichan for not letting me go find you that one time.”

“One time?”

“Yeah. I may or may not have tried running to Kyoto once.” 

Satoru jerks back in surprise. 

“You tried to run away?”

Yuji laughs a little leaning back against the foot of the bed to ease a slight discomfort that Satoru takes notice of. He grabs a pillow from the bed and hands it to him instead. 

“I was mad at everything okay? Plus I wanted to go up there and scream at you in person.”

“Not to get me back?” Satoru asks, not sure if he wants to hear the answer to that question.

“Hmm I don’t know what exactly I was thinking at the time. I just wanted to find you, anything else that happened after that was out of my control.” 

A blend of emotions well up inside Satoru. He thinks to a twelve year old Yuji, pouting and wailing at Wasuke for not letting him cross-state travel because he’s had a fall out with his friend. The mental image is too cute,it draws a laugh out of him. 

“I can’t believe I missed your rebellious era.”

“We can just fill each other in on everything that happened in the last three years.” Yuji smiles at him.

“Everything?”

“Yep everything.” he says as he reaches underneath his bed, dragging out another concealed box. 

“Easy for me. I have all my memories saved up right here.” He pulls out a book that Satoru squints at momentarily before realizing it’s the scrapbook he got for Yuji back then. 

“You kept it?” 

“Well it was a gift. Plus we promised to fill it up with new memories right?” 

Right.

Satoru’s heart beats with affection for Yuji as the truth finally sprouts out to the surface like flowers blooming from its stem. 

He likes him. 

It’s not just kinship, or a deep friendship.

He likes him so much that it hurts. 

The realisation drifts around like a ghost holding on to past grievances as they spend hours shuffling through the scrapbook. And true to his word, Yuji documented everything. From his good memories to his bad ones. When he scraped his knee from jumping over a fence. When he tried the first ice cream from the new ice cream shop next to his house. When a stray dog he’d been feeding in the neighborhood suddenly passed away. 

Satoru giggles a little at a picture of Yuji fast asleep–definitely taken by Wasuke. His mouth hangs open, a bit of drool visible at the edge of his mouth. 

It’s so adorable. 

Between their bouts of laughter and Satoru teasing Yuji, stealing looks, and fighting against his new found instincts, they end up side by side on Yuji’s bed. 

It’s a tight fit and there’s barely any space between them. 

The warmth from Yuji’s skin bleeds into him, steadfast and grounding. Now that he knows what he feels for Yuji, the closeness curls like longing in his chest; entirely too tight and entirely too persistent. 

Yuji’s eyes are drifting close, clinging desperately to stay awake but losing the battle fiercely. His hair falls over his eyes and his nose crinkles in slight irritation. 

Satoru smiles a little, his hand reaching out to move his hair out of the way and his body relaxes visibly at his touch. 

He threads his hand carefully through his soft pink hair, lingering at his scalp as if to ease the tension of the day from him. Then he remembers suddenly that Yuji hasn’t used his second reward yet and so he takes the opportunity to ask before he falls fully into slumber. 

“Yuji.” 

“Mmh?” he mumbles. 

“You never said what your anything was.” 

“My anything?” 

“Mmhm. Y’know your ‘ anything’ anything.” 

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment and Satoru isn’t sure if he’s fallen asleep or if he’s thinking about his question. 

“I want to hear you play the piano.” 

Satoru blinks, startled at the request. 

“Is that it?” he asks, his fingers still weaving through his strands. “I can do that for you normally. Ask me something else. Something harder.” 

Yuji shifts on the bed, drawing closer to Satoru. 

The silence covers them for a while and now he’s sure Yuji’s fallen asleep. 

He exhales and decides to call it for the night when he hears a soft murmur.

“Dont ... .don't leave me again.”

Satoru thinks if words could really break a heart, these would definitely get the job done. 

He doesn’t know if that is his real request or just the echoes of sleep-idled brain speaking but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t plan on leaving ever again. 

With the weight of the moment pressing down on him, his eyes drift and land on the soft curve of Yuji’s lips.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t think about it. 

But with Yuji asleep right there beside him, asking him not to leave and his heart thudding in his ears, he lets himself move, just once, on the feeling he’s been trying to hold back. 

He closes the small distance between them and his lips meet Yuji’s for just a quick moment. The kiss settles like a silent promise from his heart. It’s soft and unprepared and definitely a little inappropriate. But he’s not sure he cares right now.

When he parts from him, Yuji shows no signs of moving or reacting. A part of Satoru aches with need for more but he resigns himself. Instead he pulls him close, tugging the blanket closer to cover them both. 

Just as sleep begins to settle over Satoru, Yuji shifts slightly against him. With a flicker of awareness that fades all too quickly. 

Chapter Text

Yuji will be the first to admit he’s been acting strange. 

From the moment he woke up to the faint weight of an arm draped over him, to the reminder of who it belonged to, to Satoru’s shallow steady breathing and warmth against his shoulder, through a quick breakfast with him, until they were both back on a train heading to Tokyo. 

At first, it was just simple flinches at Satoru coming close to him. Nothing serious. Like his body was going full defense mode all on its own. Things about Satoru started to feel strange, his smell became more intoxicating, his voice, full and liquid like an elixir, slowly dripping and putting him into unconscionable trances. 

He found himself staring at Satoru, and quickly averting his gaze if Satoru dared to look back. If Satoru noticed any of these changes, he made no mention of them. 

It’s only fair that when they get back to school Yuji starts avoiding him completely. Call it self preservation.

He makes silly excuses, where he can, about hanging out with Nobara and Megumi or having to focus on studying all the learning materials Satoru has to send through his classmates since Yuji has been avoiding their meetups. 

His best excuse, and frankly only real one, has to do with the fact that his National qualifiers competition is just two weeks away now. The duration of their drills have increased tenfold. His coach, swearing to take as many of the team worth their sweat as he can to the nationals if it’s the last thing he does. 

Honestly, Yuji wouldn’t say he needs all that practice. Sports have always come naturally to him. Whether it’s nature’s way of steering him in a particular direction, or something else had to give. Either way he’s thankful for that excuse at least.

The few people who have noticed his rather unconventional ducking and turning round the corner have been Megumi and Nobara. 

One free evening they have together, Yuji and Nobara find themselves sprawled lazily across Megumi’s dorm room floor. 

It had taken weeks to even get a peek into the spiky haired boy’s room. Some favours done, and blackmails made later (courtesy of Nobara), it’s become one of their favourite spots to hang out.  Mostly because Nobara thinks his room is more spacious than theirs. Megumi counters by saying they wouldn’t have that problem if they weren’t such hoarders.

They are each doing their own thing. Nobara is seated at the tail end of the bed, back rested against the wooden board, sketching a new look for her soon to be recognised and approved fashion class, Megumi writing down a new music piece for his upcoming violin showcase in a month and Yuji… Yuji is just staring at the ceiling for the nth time.

His fingers, light and careful, thread across his lips like he keeps reliving a moment that went by all too soon. 

He’s lost in thought again, that it takes Nobara kicking him in the shin to snap him out of it.

“Ouch! Kugisaki,” he reacts in pain, pulling his legs back into himself in fear of a repeat offense. “I’m right here you know.”

“Oh please,” Nobara snides. “You haven’t been here since you got back from sendai two weeks ago.”

Yuji looks at her in surprise. 

Had he been that obvious?

“Yo Fushiguro!” she lightly slaps the sole of one of his feet. “Back me up here.”

Megumi, looking just as disinterested as usual, chooses to humour them and nods in agreement. “She’s right. You’ve only watched two movies in the last two weeks and you haven’t finished your lunch in a while.” 

Both Nobara and Yuji turn to face him, both in shock. 

“Since when did you become so observant Mr cool calm and collected.” Nobara asks. 

He ignores her and turns to Yuji instead. “For real though, what’s been up with you.” 

Yuji can’t really explain to them why he’s been weird either. One minute he’s over the moon that he and Satoru are finally back in each other’s lives again. In all the ways that matter. The next, everything had become so overwhelming. 

The worst part? He misses Satoru. Every stupid joke, every grin. Sometimes he even catches himself reaching for his phone, ready to share a dumb video he finds funny, or something that made him emotional, before snapping his phone shut because being near him has started to feel too much—like he’s standing close to an open fire waiting to be burned. 

It should be easy to ignore and shove whatever this weird feeling is into the farthest depth of the pit he seems to have dug himself. But instead, the thought keeps resurfacing, heavy and impossible to drown out: The subtle realization that he thinks Satoru may have kissed him in Sendai and he’s not sure what to do with the weight of what that might mean. For them. For him.

So, acting weird might be an understatement. He’s been freaking out. 

He  forces a laugh, rubbing meekly at the back of his neck. “Weird? Me? Nah I’m just conserving energy for the nationals.”

“Conserving energy,” Nobara repeats flatly, sketchpad snapping shut. “That’s the dumbest excuse you’ve ever had. And you’ve had some really dumb contenders.”

Yuji props himself up on his elbows, grinning like an idiot to cover up the way his heart is pounding. “Hey, conserving energy is a real thing! Athletes do it all the time.”

“Yeah maybe some athletes, but you don’t need to conserve for shit.” Nobara replies. What is it? Spill!” 

Megumi doesn’t look up from his notebook, but his pen stops moving for a moment. “You’ve been off since Sendai. It’s not just practice.” 

The grin wavers, just a little. Yuji feels his fingers drift toward his mouth again before he catches himself. If even Megumi has noticed,then he must’ve been obvious as hell. If there’s one thing Nobara is, it is persistent. Once she has her charming little hooks in something, she’d never let it go until she gets to the bottom of it.

He slowly exhales and sits up, legs folding underneath him. 

“Fine you caught me.” he says, with his hands held high in mock surrender. 

“It was obvious from the start you dimwit.” 

He ignores her low jab and lets the words fall out. “I think…I think Satoru kissed me. Back in Sendai. And I don’t know what to do about it.” 

Nobara’s jaw drops in shock while Megumi’s face is harder to read. But there’s a slight shift in his demeanor like he was not expecting that to be the reason at all. 

“Wait, hold on.” Nobara leans forward like she’s about to prowl across the floor. “What do you mean you think he kissed you. You were either kissed or not kissed, which is it?”

“Well I—” 

“Actually no, back up.” She cuts him off. “Why the hell was Gojo Satoru in Sendai with you, close enough to even kiss you? What the hell am I missing here.” 

“Oh, yeah, you don’t know.” Megumi mutters. 

“Know what?” Nobara snaps, she turns back toward Yuji with daggers in her eyes. “You better spill that too.” 

“Uh, Satoru and I were kinda, sorta–childhood best friends. One thing led to another and we drifted apart, but we are friends again.” he says almost enthusiastically.

“One thing led to another?” She asks, brows raised in curiosity. But her curiosity about the kiss overwhelms whatever drama they must have had going on, so she circles back.

“You can save the substory for later. Back to the kiss. What do you mean you think you got kissed?” 

“I don’t know.” Yuji admits, his voice cracking. “I was in and out of sleep. It was only for a moment but I felt it, or at least I think I did. Cause if I didn’t, that means I dreamt it and somehow that makes it worse.” 

He presses his palms hard against his forehead, as if to burn away the mental image.

Nobara has all but tossed her sketchpad to the side, while Megumi is seated up straight on his bed. 

“Why does that make it worse?” Megumi asks him. Nonchalance be damned. 

Yuji peeks out slightly through the gaps between his fingers. “Cause he’s my best friend,” he mumbles. “That’s all we’ve ever been. It’s all I’m used to. Besides, us, like that, in that way. I don’t know. For all I know Satoru doesn’t see me in that way and I just dreamt all this up all on my own.” 

He screeches slightly in terror at the realisation of him dreaming up the entire scenario. 

“Well, if you’re not sure he’d see you that way,” Nobara says, folding her arms, already looking like she’s drawn up her own conclusions,“ what about you?” 

Yuji freezes. “....I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it or him like that” he states simply.

“You don’t know?” She scoffs. “So why are you acting weird and making Fushiguro and I collect your mentor notes like you’re an invalid or something. You’re avoiding him aren’t you?” 

“I just–” 

Yuji cuts himself off, teeth sinking into his cheek. 

What exactly is so wrong? He wonders.

He doesn’t say the quiet part out loud. The part where he’s terrified to lose this precious thing he’s built with Satoru. The part where he’s never seen a successful romantic relationship around him. The part where whenever he pictures a future version of himself, he has never pictured himself being loved in that way. 

And not for the first time, he chooses to keep that part to himself. 

He swallows hard. “I just think we are better off as we are. Anything more would be asking for a lot.” That way maybe we can last forever. He thinks bitterly. 

They leave the conversation there. No one tries to convince Yuji of anything else. They both offer their reassurances. Trusting him to come to them if anything changes. 

Yuji leaves with a lighter head but with a heavier heart. 

***

A few days later, on his last drill run of the day, he spots Satoru across the field waiting for him at the bleachers. Even across a field as large as theirs, he can feel Satoru’s gaze pinned on him, never wavering, focused only on one thing like a wolf waiting to catch its prey. 

And prey he is. 

He tries to avoid him. To blend into the crowd and get lost in plain sight. But it doesn’t take long before Satoru is right in front of him. 

Sunglasses, tipped low on his nose, hands buried in his pockets, his posture laced with a certain seriousness that Yuji isn’t used to bearing witness to.

There’s nowhere to run this time, no Kugisaki or Fushiguro to bail him out. It’s just him and Satoru and the loud thump of his heart ringing in his ears like drums. 

“Hey” Yuji mutters. 

“Hey yourself.” Satoru responds, with a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his tired eyes. 

It makes Yuji’s heart ache a little how dejected he looks up close. His eye bags are back again and he looks more sleep deprived than when he last saw him. Sendai had been a reprieve for them both. Waking up to the subtle haggard breaths he’d hear from Satoru, or the slight sweat trailing down the side of his face. He’s never asked him to speak in detail about the nightmares that jerk  him up at night. All he could ever do was hold him just a little closer, hoping to dispel the bad away with the warmth of his concern.

Yuji is too busy analysing Satoru’s physical state that he almost misses it when Satoru cuts in.

“Before you come up with some other fancy reason why we can’t speak—”

“I wasn’t—” 

“It’s fine,” Satoru waves him off. “Really. I actually have something to show you. It won’t be long I promise. Then you can run off to wherever else you’d rather be.” 

The words hit sharper than they should. Ouch, Yuji thinks. Is that what he really thinks I want? 

He sighs inwardly. They have to clear the air eventually. Or more precisely, Yuji is the reason why Satoru feels this way and yet—

“Okay,” he says, a little reluctant but resigned. “But can I at least shower first? I’m all sweaty and gross from running.” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Satoru jokes, wiggling his brows. 

Yuji groans, but it still pulls a laugh out of him. It’s ridiculous how easy Satoru makes it, and how quick he is to shift the tension in the air. Despite how Yuji has been avoiding him, he still  reaches for Yuji’s smile. And Yuji, as always, still willingly gives it. It’s so easy how quickly they can fall back into rhythm like nothing has changed.

He keeps the shower quick, cutting his rituals down to the bare minimum, knowing Satoru is waiting for him. By the time he returns, damp hair sticking to his forehead, they fall into step, the silence between them louder than any excuse Yuji could possibly conjure.

Yuji has no idea where Satoru is taking them. They are both tight lipped but clearly with much to say to each other. Their hands brush slightly around tight corners, neither of them make the move to move farther away. Perhaps the weight of the other’s absence slowly making itself known.

It doesn’t take long for Yuji to recognise the familiar path for what it is. It’s the route to the music room. 

He means to ask Satoru why they are heading there. As far as he knows they don’t have a scheduled lesson for today. Yuji already had an excuse ready if they had. And as unbelievable as it may sound, he’s actually been very diligent with all the work Satoru sent to him through secondary parties.

“Don’t look so tense.” Satoru says, as he slides open the door to the music room. He walks casually over to the piano at the center of the room, with practiced ease, like he’s most likely done a thousand times before. 

He trails his fingers over white and black keys, eyes closed, like some quiet ritual he performs to sync up with the music. He’s graceful in all the gold showers trickling in through the windows, falling over him. He looks like something out of one of those aristocratic paintings, reserved only for the most noble to have. It occurs to Yuji that he selfishly gets to have this view all to himself.

“Don’t just stand there Yuji.” He beckons to him, tapping the space beside him on the small bench. “Come sit. I wanna play something for you.” 

“Me?” Yuji points to himself, dumbfounded. 

“Well last I checked your name was still Yuji.” Satoru looks at him incredulously, tilting his head, smirk tugging. “Unless we are both pretending otherwise, in that case I call dibs on Hideki Matsui.” 

Yuji’s already started making his way to sit beside him when he registers.. He sits and stares at Satoru, “Why Hideki Matsui?”

“‘Cause he’s your favorite baseball player,” he says easily. “And apart from your grandpa, he’s the guy you respect the most. So by proxy that would make me your favorite person.” Satoru says, with a toothy smile adorned on his face.

He silently wonders where he’s gained such brazen confidence from lately. 

Yuji feels heat rise up his neck before he can stop it, taken aback by Satoru’s shameless honesty. He doesn’t know what to do with all of it.

He turns away from his gaze, piercing and devastatingly blue. He feels them peeling back layers off him he’s not sure he’s ready to see. 

“Anyway,” Yuji coughs, changing the subject. “What is it you wanted to play?” 

Satoru looks at him a bit longer, before sitting up straight again, hands hovering over the keys.

“Tell me what you think.” he says. With that, the first notes spill into the room.

The melody starts off soft, painfully soft, terrified if he adds any more pressure, it might break the trance he intends to put them in. He doesn’t linger long on the soft notes before the melody quickly picks up into something edging on trepidation. Long existential uncertainty. 

Yuji studies as his fingers don’t sit still, threading from one edge of the piano to the next. Each note feels like a fragment of a story, incomplete, but heartbreakingly beautiful as it fills the air around them. 

Satoru gets lost in the sound, and Yuji gets lost in him. It’s a loop, an inescapable moment of shared vulnerability. 

Yuji becomes scared—scared of how much his heart aches in time with the music. Scared of how badly it makes him want to cry. Scared of how much it feels like a song made just for them.

The song ends before he can drown in it.  He blinks out of the trance only to find Satoru already looking at him with the softest of smiles. 

“What did you think?”

And Yuji can see it right then and there, the longing in his eyes for his approval, it’s not just any other song to Satoru. This one in particular must mean a lot to him. 

“It was beautiful,” he admits .“It was so beautiful I wanted to cry. I still might.” 

“Oh,” Satoru says, not sure what to make of it. “It’s not complete yet,” he confesses. 

“What would it take for it to be complete?” Yuji questions. Curiosity getting the better of him.

“It’s a long running piece.” Satoru’s fingers ghost over the keys again, soft once more. “It keeps going as long as the story goes. Until it finds its ending,” he says quietly. “And it hasn’t yet.” 

“What do you—” 

“I know you’ve been avoiding me.” Satoru interjects. 

“At first I kept thinking it was just… y’know because we haven’t been in each other’s lives for years and you needed some time to get used to us again. But we were okay in Sendai. We were more than okay actually, we were great. Then I started thinking maybe it was something I said, but you’ve been—fuck you’ve been gone every time I tried to talk to you. I’ve barely been able to get more than three words in the last two weeks without you running off. Then last night it finally hit me….” 

Yuji blinks, breath catching, waiting.

“It was the kiss wasn’t it? Satoru asks, voice unsure. “I wasn’t sure you were awake back then, but….I kissed you. It was wrong I know and I shouldn’t have. But all I’ve been thinking about is how much I want to do it again”

So it wasn’t a dream.

“Satoru—” Yuji starts, but his throat closes up around the rest

“I like you,” Satoru admits. It’s raw and blatant in all its utterance. “I like you so much I don’t think I could have gone one more day without letting you know.”

The words perch like an echo in a barren cave. The three words that threaten to change their whole dynamic. A threat Yuji has never once considered viable. A risk he’s not sure he’s willing to take. His chest squeezes, he swallows hard against his already dry throat. 

He can’t.

They can’t.

“We can’t Satoru.” He finally speaks, his voice low and sad.

Satoru tilts his head searching his face. “Can’t what?”

“This.” Yuji forces the word out. “Us. We can’t.” 

Satoru’s hand lifts almost on instinct, cupping Yuji’s cheek, gentle but insistent, pulling his gaze back. His eyes don’t waver, fixed on him, like it always is, like his glances and attention belong solely to him. It overwhelms him, and it grounds him.

That’s always the case with him. This state of contradiction. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s better this way,” Yuji mutters. “We’re better this way.” 

Satoru’s voice dips, fragile and unrefined. “What if I say I want more?” 

Yuji’s heart twists in turmoil. Afraid if he says the wrong thing he might break what they just started rebuilding again. Afraid that his feelings might not be there. “You can’t want more,” he says. “ Maybe you’re just nostalgic. Maybe it’s temporary and it would go—”

“Don’t,” Satoru’s voice cuts sharp. His hand drops away, but his eyes stay pinned on Yuji, blazing with all the feelings he can’t contain anymore. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t feel, Yuji. They’re my feelings. Mine. Don’t try to take them away from me.” 

The sting of his words pierce through him, Yuji flinches at the hurt etched on his face. Hates that he’s the reason it’s there in the first place—hates that he’s not sure how to erase it. 

“I’m sorry.” Satoru tells him. “I didn’t mean to get all defensive. It’s just that.. I thought if I just said it, if it was out there then everything would be okay. Then maybe you’d want me just as much as I want you.” 

Yuji’s throat burns like acid regurgitating back from his guts. Every word Satoru spills sits heavy in the air  and he doesn’t know how to untangle them. 

How do you answer something like that? How do you hold your best friend’s heart in your hands without crushing it? 

I don’t want to lose him yet. The thought reverberates. 

I don’t know if I can give him what he wants. 

But he knows one thing with certainty—Satoru means everything to him. Losing him again would be unbearable. He can’t take it.

He feels air trapped in his lungs, badging around, hoping for somewhere to break free, his vision blurs and all he can muster is a choked, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s eyes instantly soften. He doesn’t hesitate as his arms fold around Yuji, pulling him into his embrace. Yuji stiffens for a  moment before he melts into it, hiding his face against Satoru’s shoulder. The fabric dampens before he realises a tear has already spilled. 

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Satoru murmurs into the tufts of his hair. His voice is soft and careful, stripped of all its usual levity , rubbing reassuring circles on Yuji’s back. “It’s not fair of me, is it?” I’ve had weeks to sit with what I feel. You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before I dropped it on you.”

Yuji bites his lip, trying his best to stifle another sob, his fists bunching into Satoru’s shirt.

“I don’t want to rush you,” Satoru continues. “Take your time. However long you need. Whatever your answer ends up being—” he exhales, like it costs him something to say it., “I’ll respect it. I promise.” 

“I promised you, didn’t I? If I make a promise, I keep it because I don’t make them often.” Satoru had said to Yuji back when they were just innocent kids discovering everything there was to know about each other. Shy of ten and clueless about the world to come.

A small inconsequential comment to Satoru, perhaps. But it meant the world to Yuji at the time. 

A place of trust he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back to with Satoru. But here and now, in his arms these circumstances have created, he chooses to place his trust in him once more.

He nods, pressed tight against Satoru’s chest. This close, he can hear his heartbeat, feel the way the blood trudges through his vessels. Every spike in rhythm, a faint reminder of his newly revealed feelings for Yuji.

Something foreign unfurls quietly in Yuji.  

He makes his own secret promise. He promises to treat the weight of Satoru’s feelings with consideration. He promises to meet him halfway, no matter his answer, he knows deep inside that Satoru will never resent him for it. 

Chapter Text

Satoru sits in the quiet of the music room not long after Yuji is gone. He stares at the white and black keys of the piano under his fingertips, waiting, but he doesn’t dare hit a note. Doesn’t trust his hands not to shake under the weight of his confession. 

He had promised himself he would not regret saying the words out loud, and he doesn’t, but it didn’t go how he expected. Or at least how Suguru had promised him it would go. 

Satoru was in bed when the slow realisation had hit him that Yuji might have been aware of the kiss. He had a mental panic for all but five minutes before calling the first person he had to tell it to. The one person who put the idea in his head in the first place. 

“Satoru? It’s one in the fucking morning y’know?” Suguru had begrudgingly said when he picked up his call. 

“I wish I had the time to consider your sleep schedule Suguru. But seeing as this is all your fault in the first place, I say you deserve this and way worse.”

There’d been shuffling on the other end before Suguru’s voice came back, faintly amused. “Oh? And what could possibly be my fault this time. I seem to be getting blamed for a lot of things at an incredibly alarming rate lately.” A slight semblance of interest tinged in his tone. 

“I kissed Yuji,” he blurted out, no hesitation in sight. The words hung in the air, small but electric. He could hear his own heartbeat through the line. 

There’s a beat of silence between them. None of them were interested in being the first to shatter it. Then, finally, Suguru spoke. “ Finally did it huh?” his voice light and teasing. 

“Now’s not the time to gloat Suguru,” Satoru had muttered, hands scrubbing manically over his face. “I did it when he was sleeping. It was nothing serious. It was barely a real kiss if we are being honest, but I think he might have been awake or at least aware and now…now I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Fuck! Suguru” he exclaimed. “What do I do? Did I ruin this? I just got him back. I don’t think I can—” 

“Calm down Satoru,” Suguru cut him off smoothly. “Let’s not go overthinking now. I mean, even if he knows, maybe he’s also thinking about things the same way you are. But you’d never know unless you ask him directly. Who knows, maybe he might feel the same way and you guys will be walking down the aisle in no time.” he teased. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have called you.”

Now he sits in the wallows of the aftermath of a failed confession and a forever changed dynamic. 

“Walking down the aisle, huh?” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. I should punch him in the head next time.” he jokes. It’s thin and brittle, but for a second he contemplates going through with it.

He hates to admit it, but a small part of him almost believed Suguru. Or at least wanted to. Wanted the possibility that his blooming feelings could be returned, wanted to be able to hold Yuji when he pleased, kiss him whenever he wanted. Discover new parts of each other that he never knew were possible. 

The thought of not being able to have him as more than a friend nearly squeezes all the air away from his chest. 

He shuts his eyes, to steady himself and all he can see is the mental image of Yuji’s expression just before he broke down in his arms. His eyes glossy, throat tight trying so hard not to hurt him. But Satoru was already hurt. The moment the words left his mouth and his feelings weren’t reciprocated. 

“We can’t, Satoru.” Yuji had said, all too willingly. The look in his eyes had felt otherwise. Like he was overthinking. Like he didn’t think he deserved the weight of Satoru’s feelings. 

“You’re wrong Yuji.” he whispers. 

Because Yuji deserves better than him. He deserves someone who would have fought for him three years ago. Who would have never left him no matter what his father thought. Who would have never made him cry. 

But he wants to believe he’s not the same fifteen year old boy anymore. He wants to be better. Wants to be the man deserving of Yuji. Wants to be his light and for Yuji to be his in turn. Craves for the chance to be the first person he sees in the morning and for him to be the last person he embraces at night. 

Satoru sighs, standing up off the bench. There’s no point sulking here. He promised Yuji to give him time with his feelings. To figure out how he really feels about him. At the very least, it’s not entirely over yet. 

He shuffles around in his pockets, pulling out his sunglasses to put them on. 

He doesn’t know how long that contemplation will be, but he intends to keep his promise. 

AUGUST 2018

Satoru wakes to the shrill ring of his phone at his bed side, nearly knocking himself off the bed in surprise.

He’d stayed up nearly all night playing games with Shoko and Suguru. Mostly getting his ass handed to him but found it endlessly entertaining watching Suguru lose multiple times to Shoko. He smiles faintly at his reminiscence before his phone goes off again. It’s a Saturday and he doesn’t remember making plans with anyone for the weekend which is why he’s in a state of confusion. 

He struggles and fails to reach for the phone, eyes half lidded and brain still groggy with sleep. After one final attempt, he’s able to knock the phone closer to his direction, enough to see who the caller is. It is a call from his P.I. 

He had gotten one on his retainer a couple months ago, after working solo and failing to make any leeway with his mother’s accident and his father’s obvious involvement. 

Finding a private investigator who had no affiliations with his father or the Gojo conglomerate in general was no easy feat. His father’s reach was endless akin to trying to find a needle in a haystack. Luckily after letting Shoko and Suguru in on his suspicions and everything he has on his father they offered to help him find one. Shoko had mentioned it to her mother on the off chance she had one or knew someone who did. That had turned up yielding no real fruit. Suguru tried his family. Given their long list of clientele and rather…unsavoury methods they sometimes employed to get their wins in court, it was only fair to assume they had connections. 

Many back and forths later and they were put in contact with Mr. Matsunaga. He was just about to retire before Satoru got in contact with him. Many notable P.I’s in the business never even knew about him or his work. His name was not in any well known directory. That was how Satoru knew he’d be the right man for the job. It was the best case scenario they had. He offered to pay him out of pocket for one last job and he had accepted. 

He brings the phone closer, barely missing it by the last ring and dials him back immediately. 

“Matsunaga-san?” 

“Good morning , Gojo-kun,” comes the repl . “Sorry to call so early. But I finally found something.” 

Satoru adjusts himself on his bed, sitting up just enough to rest his back against the headboard. “It’s fine. What did you find?”

“It’s one of your father’s old employees. I found him.” 

Satoru startles. This is the first real breakthrough they are having in months. It almost sounds too good to be true.

“On the day of the incident he was there. He was also the person who was tasked to clean up after your father.” 

“Tsk. So he got rid of everything then?” 

“He did.” 

Satoru exhales sharply, disappointment obvious in his tone. He already let himself hope for a moment that they could be getting close to something concrete. 

“But there was one thing he kept as leverage.” Matsunaga continues. “There was a video recording of the incident itself. But there’s a problem.”

“What is it?” Satoru asks, waiting with baited breath.

“He needs money. Lots of it. Something about having to change his identity and getting his family to safety.” 

“What does he mean by getting his family to safety? Just what the hell does he think my father is going to do to him?” 

Matsunaga does not lend an answer to his question. And maybe that’s all the answer that Satoru needs.

It occurs to him briefly that his father may be more dangerous than he thought. Maybe his mother wasn’t his first victim. It’s entirely possible she may not be the last.

Could there be more? 

He knows he can’t let himself get distracted by the possibilities of a maybe. Right now getting his father away from his mother—away from Yuji is all that matters. Personal consequences will be dealt with later. With one last sigh, he stills his resolve.

“How much is he asking for?” 

***

With the new breakthrough in the case, Satoru decided to let Shoko and Suguru in on recent developments. With all their help, it’s only fair he keeps them up to date. 

“So are you going to pay him?” Shoko asks. They are lodged in Satoru’s living room.

He’d managed to secure a personal apartment closer to school. Convincing his father that it was easier for the commute and not the terrible truth that he couldn’t stand to be with him for more than a certain number of days a week. They had come to a compromise when he turned eighteen. During the school semester Satoru could stay at the apartment as long as he comes back for holidays and any important events his father deems important he attend. 

“I kind of have to,” Satoru says. 

He’s laying upside down on the couch, hair hanging loose with his glasses holding back his fringe. He pokes Suguru who’s at the side of him reading a book, hoping to get a reaction of annoyance but he pays him no mind. 

“That’s good and all,” Shoko says. But where the hell are you going to get that amount of money from without raising any suspicions with your father’s accountant and the bank?” 

“That’s a good question.” Satoru admits. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He considered just using taking out of his trust fund and calling it an expensive treat for himself. Anything to throw his father off his trail. But that kind of money? It’s bound to raise brows. 

“What about that music fair Yaga keeps begging you to join?” Suguru finally chimes in, glancing up. “They have a prize money right? You could join the next one and take the money. We all know you’d win it anyway.” 

Satoru hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know. It’s such a hassle. If I join and I win then I’d have to actually represent the school abroad. I don’t really care for that right now.”

“Why not?” Suguru presses. His attention clearly now on the current conversation as he sets his book to the side to sit up straight. “You said before that it was too early in our high school days. We’re graduating in a couple of months now. There’s really no reason for you to be too tied up in this place. Plus you need to start thinking about what you want to do in the future.” 

What he wants to do in the future.

In truth, Satoru hasn’t lended much thought to his future. With the incessant grilling his entire life by his father until the incident with his mother, it was always just natural that he take over the family business once he graduates. He’s been groomed for it since the day he was born. But with current plans to take down his father, there’s a spark of possibility. Maybe a life beyond all this.

Still, he doesn’t know what he’d even want. He’s always been relatively good at everything he puts his mind to–too good, too easily. Always a prodigy in his own right.

The simple joys in his life come meagrely from the people he holds dear to him. His friends, his mother.

Yuji. 

That’s all that matters to him. 

“Well. I can’t leave my mother here all alone,”  he says, shaking his head, appalled that he even considered leaving her to pursue a piteous fairytale of a life. 

“She won’t be alone.” Shoko speaks up. “ I wasn’t supposed to say this yet, but I’ve been talking to my parents and they finally agreed to transfer your mum to our hospital whenever you’re ready. She’d have care all around the clock and no one would be permitted to come see her except you. That way you don’t have to worry about your dad doing anything to her.” 

Satoru sits up, shocked and touched. 

Shoko always seems nonchalant and devoid of obvious human emotions. But in moments like this, when she does things on a whim that seem logical, Satoru can’t help but notice the faint traces of warmth and care simmering beneath her actions. But he won’t smother her with it. opting instead to—

“Shokooooooo,” he cries, jumping into her arms, tackling her into a hug onto the carpet. “You’re really so sweet when you want to be.” 

“Okay okay. I get your point already.” She taps at his arm, deadpanned trying to pry him off her. “Get off me you big loaf.” 

Suguru smiles from the top of the couch. Clearly amused by all of it. 

After a few more seconds he lets go of Shoko, scooting back to the foot of the couch and choosing to perch up there.

“So, if your mother is taken care of, there’ll be no other reason not to do it.” Suguru says.

Silence falls for a moment, neither of them says the next word out loud, although they all come to the same conclusion. 

Yuji. 

“He’d want you to go.” Suguru breaks the quiet.

Would he? Satoru thinks. They just found their way back to each other again. Rekindled their friendship and despite his confession, somehow managed to get things to be stable again. What if distance ruins that all over again? What if it ruins him?

“I don’t think I could deal with another Yuji drought,” he admits quietly. “I don’t want to be away from him.” 

“Even after he flat out rejected you?” Shoko says bluntly. 

Satoru’s mouth drops open. “And here I thought you were gonna be nice to me today,” he pouts, folding his arms and shrinking into himself. 

“What do you mean? I’m always nice.” 

“Anyway,” he mutters, sulking. “ He didn’t reject me. He just needs time.”

Time that has had Satoru on edge since he gave it to him. Everyday, he wonders if today would be the day Yuji tells him no. If this would be the day he puts a finality on them before they’ve even begun. The very thought of it alone leaves a sinking pit feeling deep inside. 

He’d promised him he’d wait. But waiting has never felt this heavy.

“Maybe you both need it.” Offers Suguru. “It can’t be easy for him seeing you everyday knowing you’re waiting for him to like you back. If you sign up for this, you’d be busy. Giving him the space he needs. If it works out it works out, if not? At least you tried.” 

It makes all the sense in the world. To give him figurative and literal space. Besides, doing this gets him one step closer to getting rid of his dad, freeing his mum, freeing Yuji. Getting a semblance of what life could be like outside the claws of expectations. 

He leans back on the couch, head tilted toward the ceiling. There’s much to think about but all he wants to do is call Yuji, to hear his voice. He always sets him at ease. He always knows the right things to say even when he doesn’t realise it. 

“I miss him already just thinking about it.” he murmurs.

“He’s not gonna make it, Suguru.” Shoko says dryly, lighting a cigarette. 

“C’mon Shoko,” Suguru replies, chuckling at the statement. “Have some faith in the love sick puppy.” 

“Hey, I told you  no smoking in my apartment!” 

***

Despite multiple hours spent on trying to find alternatives, it doesn’t take long for Satoru to realise that the music fair might be his best chance at securing the money he needs.

Come Monday, he grumbles from the moment he wakes up in the morning until he makes his way to Yaga’s office. Who is all too happy to tell Satoru he had already signed him up as he does every year without his consent.

If he’s going to commit to this then there are a few things he wants to get out of the way.

For one, he plans on introducing Yuji to his mother. She’s not awake yet of course. But there have been things he’s read that show that sometimes loved ones can hear things going on around them while in a coma. Surrounding them with love and words of affirmation could just be the thing to bring them back from the other side. 

Satoru has never quite been one to be overly sentimental or believe in all the hubris of the supernatural, but Yuji is the kindest person he’s ever known. A little bit of his light is always welcome. Plus, his mother’s birthday is coming up. He wants her to experience something good this year. 

He makes his way casually, hands in his pockets straight to Yuji’s class. 

He doesn’t come around these parts often, made obvious by the multitude of eyes glaring his way. He pays them no mind as he searches the signs on the wall for the one that indicates his class. 

When he arrives at it, he’s hesitant to go in. He didn’t let Yuji know ahead of time he’d be coming. He’s not sure how much of this is okay. How much of his space he’s allowed to consume for himself. The buzzing of students returning to their classes after lunch increases by the minute and before he can change his mind, he makes a u-turn in hopes to get  back to his class, when he hears a somewhat familiar voice behind him.

“Gojo Senpai as I live and breathe.” He turns around and is met with brown eyes and brown hair. 

Kugisaki. She had called herself when Satoru was looking for a way to get Yuji his notes and texts for studying. 

They hadn’t said more than a few words to each other, choosing to keep it strictly to the business at hand. 

“You’re here to see Itadori right?” She says, though her tone tinged with the certainty that she already knows the answer to her question. 

Satoru nods in affirmation. 

“Well, he’s not here,” she moves forward, almost shoving him out of the way to enter her class. 

Satoru tries his best not to react to the not so casual shove. “Where is he?” 

“He’s at the gym,” she says over her shoulder. “His competition is tomorrow. You remember that right?” 

“Of course I remember.” 

Satoru does not in fact remember. He’s been so caught up with the investigations and his pending feelings that it completely slipped his mind how fast the days have been going. He’s not really seen Yuji much since their faithful encounter in the music room. Unsure how to even remotely be in the same room as him without staring a hole through his head.

He’s about ready to make a run for it to the gym when Kugisaki comes closer to him again, poking a finger at his chest.

“If you ever think about breaking our baby athlete’s heart again, just know that I will never stop hunting you for the rest of your life.” 

Ah, there’s that fiery spirit Yuji mentioned about her in passing. He must have told them about their history. He thinks.

“Don’t worry,” a shy grin. “I think I’m the one who’s in danger of getting his heart broken.” His grin stretches into a resigned smile. Like he’s made peace with it. Like he doesn’t mind having his heart broken, especially if it’s by Yuji. 

He leaves, making his way to the gym to meet with him. When he arrives. He finds Yuji wiping off sweat from his face with his shirt. The sweat from his drills evidently dripping down his trim chiseled frame. He doesn’t see Satoru come in and he’s silently thankful for it. 

He’s beside himself with aching want for him. And all he can do is watch. Enjoying the passive moment where he can just be a boy who is head over heels for his best friend.

Yuji wipes the sweat from his brow, breath steadying as he resets his stance, completely unaware of the way he looks through Satoru’s eyes; all grit and sunlight. His edges soft in the faint glow filtering through the gym windows.

He’d told himself he wouldn’t fall any deeper, that he’d keep things simple until Yuji decided what he wanted. But he’s making it so painstakingly impossible to do either.

Satoru tells himself to look away. To keep the careful distance he promised. But he doesn’t. 

He can’t.

Maybe it’s the sunlight, maybe it’s the exhaustion from pretending he’s fine, but something about this simple moment softens him. He’s tired of treating what he feels like it’s something to hide, like it’s shameful or fragile.

Yuji makes him feel human, simple and whole in ways Satoru has never known with another. If this is the last stretch of time they get before everything changes, before he graduates and possibly leaves Japan and whatever this strange, hopeful in-between is, then he doesn’t want to waste it holding himself back.

He wants to watch him. He wants to remember the way Yuji looks when he’s unaware. When he laughs. The sound of his voice when he calls his name. The small, ordinary moments that make Satoru feel like maybe he deserves to like someone this much. 

So he decides quietly to stop fighting it. He’ll respect Yuji’s space. He’ll still wait. But he’ll also let himself feel fully without apology.

He exhales quietly, forcing his pulse to settle, and calls out to him. “Yuji” 

He turns, surprise flickering across his face before a grin blooms into a full smile. “Satoru. What are you doing here?”

Satoru shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I thought I'd wish you good luck for tomorrow.” 

“You remembered?” he asks, surprised. 

Satoru chooses to earn brownie points with a white lie. “Of course I remembered.” He grins wider. “But more importantly, I heard from Yaga you passed all your finals too. Shame you didn’t come to thank your great teacher Gojo for all his gallant help.” He puffs his chest out in mock pride, putting his favourite smile on his favourite boy’s face briefly before Yuji’s smile wanes into a small pout. 

“No. Stop. I was going to thank you, in a grand way. Now you’ve ruined the whole thing.” 

“Wait, don’t change your mind on my account.” He steps closer to him. “Let’s have a do over. Come on, Yuji.” 

Even though Satoru towers over Yuji, he tries his best to perk his eyes open, pouting and pleading like a puppy that lost its chew toy. A possible treat from Yuji? He isn‘t going to pass that up in a million years. 

He’s being ridiculous and absolutely shameless at the moment–and Yuji can’t help the laugh that slips out.

“I didn’t have anything in particular in mind yet,” Yuji admits, scratching at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I was just going to ask what you wanted to do or whatever you want and I’d buy it. My treat.” 

Something Satoru wants? 

Ah.

He doesn’t have to think too hard about it.

“I actually wanted to ask you something else,” Satoru says after a beat. “It’s my mother’s birthday soon. I was thinking…..,” he doesn’t know why it’s suddenly so hard for him to spit the words out. Maybe because of what the weight of this moment means to him. What it would have meant to his mother if she were awake to see it for herself. To gloat in Satoru’s face about him being crazy about Yuji. 

“You were thinking what, Satoru?” Yuji corks his head to the side, waiting for him in anticipation.

Satoru takes a quick moment to breathe before he continues. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to meet her. She isn’t awake yet…or anything. I just thought it would be nice for you to finally meet her.” 

Yuji blinks, caught off guard by the softness of his request. Then he smiles. “Yeah. I’d really like that.” 

Satoru smiles, all teeth, the first genuine one in days. “Then it’s a date,” he says lightly, and before Yuji can correct him, he’s already walking toward the door, hiding the flush creeping up his neck.

Chapter Text

Yuji has never been the type to feel nervous about anything. 

He’s always been direct and honest with himself and others as much as he can. Sincerity is his greatest strength, or so he’s been told. But sometimes also his weakness. 

That’s why when his grandfather had left him that letter to come to this school to chase what he assumed was his dream in sports, he let himself honour his wish. He never wants to break promises or fall short of expectations. Always pleasing, always doing the right thing. Never putting himself first.

Perhaps it’s why he’s been giving his all in this school. Thanks to Satoru’s rather queer teaching methods, he actually aced even the subjects he isn’t so good at. With that out of the way, he tells himself all he has to do is qualify for the nationals. 

All he has to do is make his grandfather proud. Passion isn’t necessary, conviction is.

So he trains, even when it’s not necessary he trains hard. Even though it comes easier to him, he pushes, strives. He leaves no room for doubts. He shows up every morning and sticks to his regimen. 

All of it leading to this day. 

He’s bet everything on this. As long as he does this, Jiichan will be happy. Jiichan will be at peace.

He doesn’t expect the huge turnout at the event. Their coach had mentioned no fewer than a thousand times how grand this is all going to be, especially after they missed out on last year’s competition. Important guests are seated somewhere in the bleachers. Some here out of curiosity for the talents Jujutsu high is going to produce today, others here to scout or steal students for their own.

Yuji has no vested interest in either party. His eyes scan the crowd, looking for the people he cares about. He looks around, head turning three sixty trying to find them in the sea of people. He almost gives up when he spots an obnoxiously huge sign that spells Kick their asses baby athlete and he chuckles, knowing without a doubt who it belongs to. He’s sure Megumi is not far behind either. He smiles, feeling the quiet support from them both. 

For some reason, he can’t move, satisfaction creeps gently around him but not quite settling in his bones yet. He scans the crowd looking for Satoru. He had said he’d be here. With that look in his eyes that screamed he’d rather be here than anywhere else. 

Yuji’s heart beats with every face he lands on, thinking, wishing his eyes fall on him next. 

Against every ounce of logic in Yuji’s body, he’s not been able to get Satoru out of his head. Ever since the confession, every waking moment has been plagued with the look Satoru gave him that day. His look of sincerity and care for Yuji. His feelings so loud in every breath he took it almost left him listless in his presence. 

He’s been nudged to wonder what it would mean to let himself be loved by Satoru in that way.

Is it even love? 

To be able to wake up to his warmth like it belongs to only him. To be in his embrace and feel like they are the only two people in the world. To allow himself to like him that way—no fear, no hesitation. His mind has envisioned it a thousand times over but trying hard not to throw away logic to allow his heart to beat for Satoru in the same way Satoru’s already does for him. 

So he scans, pulse pounding in his ears. Letting the thrum be the pointer that guides him to his face. Wanting to get a glimpse before his race. Wanting to feel grounded by him like he always has. 

But he doesn’t see him. 

No striking white locks glistening in the rays of the sun, no shades hiding the brilliance of his ocean blues. No towering height that sets him apart from the crowd in any room he walks into. 

It’s empty. 

Yuji has never been the type to feel nervous about anything. 

But at this moment he does. 

At this moment, his heart searches for the one person it wants to latch onto and finds its anchor missing. 

He steadies his breaths, choosing not to panic. Maybe he’s just late. Maybe he’s just getting something to eat before he comes. 

Maybe he’s gone again. His mind dangerously echoes. 

Why would he be gone again? Where would he go? 

Stop freaking out. 

Stop freaking out. 

He forces a grin, seeking out Nobara and Megumi again. Smiling slightly at them, trying to seem normal, even though he’s not sure they can see him all too well. 

The stadium is big enough with the other competitions happening. The field events have already started with two of Jujutsu high’s athletes already making the cut.

Yuji tries to stay focused. 

You’re doing this for Jiichan. 

To make him proud. To make him happy. 

He decides to warm up. To stretch his limbs and ease the tension. 

He jogs outside of the tracks close to one of the team benches. Taking one leg in his arm, bending it to the back and freeing it to the side. He repeats the action three more times before switching to the other leg, slowly unwinding the tension from his limbs. 

He rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms behind his head and takes another deep breath. The stadium rings around him with voices, footsteps, laughter. All of it, distant to him. The sounds don’t quite reach him, muffled by the fog in his head.  

He turns around again. Secretly hoping to land on his familiar face but finds the rows of seats devoid of his presence. 

A whistle blows somewhere to his right, he sees his coach waving him over for the 400m race. It’s almost time. It’s almost his turn and Satoru’s still not here.

But why does it matter so much that he is? He doesn’t even care so much about this competition and yet….

Yuji has done life without him before. Did so the last three years. Every milestone, every joy, every heartbreak, every small victory. His grandpa had been there. Always. Satoru wasn’t there. He should have been there. But he wasn’t. Yuji doesn’t hold it against him anymore, but now that they are back in each other’s lives again, the thought of losing him, even for a second, the thought of never….

Yuji feels a sharp pain in his chest. 

The breath he’s been trying so hard to control finally gets knocked out of him in a panic. His vision, inept, as the sea of people to his periphery starts to morph into swirls of distant shapes. He tries to hold on to the breath, to take it back in and make it flow around his body, to steady his heart. 

He doesn’t recognise when he’s placed on the line up of runners or when the whistle cuts through the air. Doesn’t know when his legs start picking up speed. Doesn’t feel the sharp graze of dust and wind scrapping the sides of his face. Doesn’t hear the sound of chants from the crowd. He just keeps moving. His body moves on instinct, muscle memory taking over where thought once was.

Each stride pounds against the track, steady and powerful. The world narrows, the crowd, noise, heat from the sun, they all fade until there’s only breath and speed. 

He lets the wind be his navigator, struggling to take back control of the air in his lungs, until he hears a loud voice cutting through the crowd, blasting through a megaphone. 

“YOU GOT THIS YUJI! SHOW THOSE LOSERS HOW IT’S DONE.” 

It’s obnoxious, echoing loud enough to drown out every other sound in the stadium. There’s only one person on earth ridiculous enough to bring a megaphone to a national qualifier.

Satoru.

A laugh bubbles out of him mid-race. His heart kicks hard in his chest as his pulse tries to catch up with his feet.

Yuji feels his body surge forward. Relief floods him so violently it almost hurts.

He’s here. 

Every part of him that’s been knotted tight these past few days comes undone at the sound of his voice. The ache, the restlessness, the constant reaching. It all makes sense now. 

This isn’t just about showing up. It’s about the way his whole body reacts to his voice, how it moves through him like it’s natural. It’s the way the sound of it pulls him to a place that feels like home. It all hits him mid stride in a clear and terrifying way.

He’s not scared because Satoru has feelings for him. He’s terrified because he feels it too. 

He wants him to be there at every milestone, every joy, every heartbreak, every small victory. 

He wants him there not just because he’s his best friend, but because without realising it, Satoru has been his entire world for as long as he’s known him. It’s just taken his mind a while to catch up to his heart. 

He runs faster, the finish line in sight. 

Show those losers how it’s done. 

It’s a rude and dismissive statement to anyone else but Yuji. But he likes him that way. Without waiting to catch his breath, he bolts through until he crosses the finish line. 

Whistling and cheers shutter through the stadium like shock waves. 

A new record is announced. 

He can’t focus on any of it. He slows to a stop, his chest heaving and the edges of the world bright and dizzy. The air feels too thin, he can’t get himself to calm down. 

He looks toward the stands and finds him. Sunglasses off now, smile so wide it almost hurts to see. 

He smiles back. 

He can’t wait to tell Satoru. To tell him how he feels. He tries to move forward, to run toward him, sweaty and filled with all the words he can’t wait to spill, but then his world tilts. 

The cheers drown beneath the rush in his ears. His knees buckle before he can catch himself. The ground rises to meet him and spins into white noise. 

Satoru is already running down from the stands, cutting through the officials and the crowd. By the time he reaches him, Yuji’s eyes are half lidded, his breaths shallow. 

“Yuji,” he calls, his voice sharp with panic, shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey, come on, look at me. You won, Yuji. You won.” 

I know. He means to say, but can’t. I don’t care that I won. 

I need to tell you. 

He hears himself say, but the words stay buried, stuck at the back of his throat. 

He sees Megumi and Nobara rushing to be at his side too. A medic team of nurses and a few assistants rush forward. 

It all feels so dramatic to him. He wants to scream he’s fine but doesn’t get the chance to until he loses consciousness. 

***

The first thing Yuji becomes aware of is the feeling of hard cold fabric against his skin. It feels uncomfortable and mildly unnerving. His brain foggy as he tries to reorient himself to his surroundings.Then sound hits him next. He can hear muffled voices to the sound of him and the beeps of a monitor in rhythm with the sound of his own heartbeat. He tries to open his eyes, tries to move. He swallows against the dryness of his mouth, finding the action to sting at the back of his throat. He feels his consciousness lose this round again as he drifts under the embers of sleep.

The next sense that hits him when he wakes is smell. Antiseptics and copper. He’s not sure what to make of it until a memory hits him like a ton of bricks. It smelled akin to the hospital room he was so acquainted with when his grandpa was ill. 

Small tainted visions start making their way back to him. Stadium, people, panic attacks, dizziness. Satoru. 

Satoru!

He bolts out of dizziness and pushes his eyes to open. He looks to his right and finds a mop of white hair sprayed across his hospital bed. 

He has no idea how long he’s been out, or how he ended up here. He thinks to wake him, to ask, but there’s something so peaceful about him sleeping without jerking out of it. Try as he does, Yuji can’t stop himself from moving to touch him. Just a little. 

Is this okay? 

He questions, but at this moment he doesn’t stop himself. He moves his hand toward his head but he finds that he’s actually weaker than he anticipated. Only able to rub his fingers slightly on his forehead. Not enough to convey the affection he intends to. 

His small touch rouses Satoru from his sleep, as he jerks up, hair sticking out in disarray, causing Yuji to flinch. He tries to move his hand away but Satoru latches onto his hand, holding firmly to his wrist. 

“Yuji, you’re awake,” he says. “You scared the hell out of me y’know?” 

“Uh–,” he croaks, his throat  too dry to form the words. 

“Water. The nurse said you might need that. One second.” Before Yuji can stop him, Satoru is already standing. He makes his way out briefly before coming back with a cup of water and a straw. 

“Here, drink this.” he pushes the straw gently toward Yuji’s lips. He parts his mouth slightly to slurp on the warm liquid as it rejuvenates his vocal cords. When he’s done he lets the straw go, signalling to Satoru he’s done. 

He sets the cup aside and takes the seat beside Yuji’s bed again. A small part of Yuji aches with the need to have him closer. 

“How do you feel?” Satoru asks, his voice sounding careful like Yuji is made of glass. It melts a part of him inside. Yuji clears his throat to speak. 

“Like I drowned and just got resuscitated,” he tries to joke, but Satoru makes no attempt to laugh. Yuji suddenly feels worried.

“How long were you pushing yourself like this Yuji? If I had known things had gotten this bad I would have stopped you from training myself,” he tells him petulantly. 

Yuji wants to explain that it was just a momentary panic, that he forgot to let himself breathe, that he was distracted with all those confusing thoughts about Satoru and them. If there was even a them to have still. But instead he settles with–

“I feel cold, Satoru.” 

Satoru’s eyes widen, like any attempt at scolding him vanishes and is replaced by worry. 

“Do you need another blanket? I’d go get the nurse. I told them you needed a second one.” He stands to leave. Probably to go chew the poor nurses’ ear out. Yuji lifts his hand with just enough strength to stop him in his tracks. 

“It’s fine,” he says, half smiling. “You can just get in the bed with me and be my personal heater.” He says it like a joke, uncomfortable with the version of Satoru that might be mad at him for being a bit careless. 

But the way his voice slightly trembles betrays how much he means it, how much he needs him close. Satoru looks down at him for half a breath before he speaks again. 

“I don’t think the bed is big enough for the both of us.”

Yuji shrugs his shoulders, “It’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” 

Satoru finally smiles at him for the first time since he woke up. He shrugs his jacket off and takes off his indoor slippers, lifting up the blanket to slide in beside him gently, to get closer to Yuji. There’s barely any distance between them now and Yuji catches himself sighing in relief at how good it makes him feel. 

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Satoru says.

“Probably. But who cares right now?” 

“Ohhh? Yuji the rule breaker? I like this side of you,” Satoru chuckles, causing Yuji to chuckle in return until silence fills the room again.

“Your bratty friends were here by the way,” Satoru continues. “ I had to practically drag them out to get back to the dorms. They are so possessive of you.” He pouts and Yuji thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world. 

“Oh? He elbows him lightly. “How come you’re still here?” 

“Because I’m more possessive,” he says without hesitation, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Plus I have my own apartment so I get to go home whenever I want.” He says, poking his tongue out like a child as though this was ever a competition.

It’s funny how being near him now, all the things Yuji wanted to say to him suddenly can’t find their way out. The litany of words die still in his thoughts before they can even form coherent sentences. 

“Are you still cold?” Satoru asks, voice sounding almost shy and unlike him. Yuji feels like teasing him even more. 

“Yes,” he responds. Turning on his side to face Satoru who’s still laying on his back. “I think I’d only get warmer if you hold me.” 

He sees the moment Satoru’s expression is caught in surprise. A faint flush paints itself across his cheeks. Seeing the effect he has on him shifts something deep in Yuji’s bones. How had he thought he didn’t like this feeling? Didn’t want it? 

Satoru turns around on his side to face Yuji. They stare at each other for what feels like eternity until Satoru snakes an arm underneath Yuji’s waist and pulls him closer to his chest. 

“Is this better?” Satoru asks. Yuji catches him scanning his face. Eyes falling to his lips in between his gaze of worry. The need to be near Yuji, ever apparent in his eyes. This time Yuji’s the one to feel the heat rising up. If he was ever cold, all traces of it are gone. But Satoru doesn’t need to know that. 

Feeling slightly overwhelmed to speak, he nods his head instead. 

“Good.” 

And Satoru looks so soft. Like any sudden movement could damage Yuji. He suddenly feels his heart racing again. But he’s not scared this time, because he knows only one person can have this effect on him. 

Now’s the time, Yuji thinks. Now is the time to tell Satoru how he feels. To return his confession. To share all the fears and thoughts he’s had the past few weeks. But the words fail him. 

Instead, he takes Satoru’s free hand in his, placing it carefully on his chest. Satoru doesn’t know what to make of it. He shows no signs of protesting but his expression holds the weight of confusion. Before he can ask, Yuji speaks. 

“Can you feel that, Satoru?” 

“Yeah,” he swallows. “It’s beating like crazy.” He continues. “Maybe I should call the nurse to check in again.” 

“No it’s not a panic attack.” Yuji frowns. “I’m trying to make a point here.” 

Satoru’s lips twitch. Like he’s torn between teasing and taking him seriously, but there’s something in Yuji’s eyes that seems to keep him quiet. 

“Ah.” 

“Yup.” 

“Please,” Satoru says. “Carry on.” 

Yuji takes a breath, trying to prepare himself before he continues. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts, his voice low and laced with nervousness. “About how you make me laugh in ways no one else can. “How whenever something good or bad happens you’re the first person I want to tell.” His words come out clumsy but with pure unbridled honesty. 

“You’re rude. Curt. Arrogant when you want to be,” he says as a small smile tugs at his lips. “But you’re also sweet and caring, you’ve always been there for me, even when you weren’t physically there.” Yuji’s chest tightens with the ache of his emotions. “You make me happy in ways I never knew was possible.” 

He pauses, then whispers softly. “What I’m trying to say is, my heart only beats like this when you’re around.” 

Satoru stills. He doesn’t speak, just looks at Yuji softly, fingers caressing the hollow cleft of his collar bone. Yuji takes it as his cue to continue. 

“Not in a bad way,” he adds quickly. “In a way where sometimes it’s hard to breathe.” 

Yuji must see the look of confusion on Satoru’s face and he panics. “Ah. That sounds bad too. I mean—,” he laughs quietly, so quiet it comes out breathless. I mean it’s like everything else around me fades and it’s just me and you and nothing else in the world matters.” 

“I’ve been so scared to let myself have this, to let myself be happy in this way. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I deserve it.” 

Satoru’s mouth moves to interrupt, but Yuji shakes his head, stopping him before he can.

“It’s okay. I’m just saying the quiet parts out loud now.” 

Yuji isn’t sure if what he’s saying makes any sense. He wants to say so much more, wants to rip open his chest so Satoru can see exactly what he means. Wants to handle the weight of his feelings with just as much reverence and affection. 

He exhales, the next words leaving his mouth, crude and free. “I like you too, Satoru,” he confesses. “All the arrogant parts, the endearingly annoying parts, the parts of yourself you think I don’t see. All the loving parts. I like them all and I would never change a thing about you.” 

Silence takes over once more, but Yuji isn’t scared of it this time, because Satoru’s eyes speak much louder than his voice can at the moment. 

Satoru pulls him closer, as if they can be any closer than they already are. He moves his hands from Yuji’s chest to his cheek, thumbing slow circles sweetly. 

“Wow,” he murmurs, smiling softly at him, his eyes glassy and full of affection. “How could I ever top that?” 

Yuji’s lips curve into a small smile. It’s not a competition, he wants to say but Satoru beats him to it. 

“I want to kiss you so bad.” Satoru says, his thumb tracing the corner of his lips.

The words hang between them, threatening to change their whole dynamic, but this time it’s a threat Yuji’s willing to risk because he can no longer envision a world where they aren’t more than what they are now. A world where one Gojo Satoru is not everything to him and he to him in return. 

So, with a simple nod and upward tilt of his chin, he grants him all the permission he needs. 

With baited breath, he closes the distance between them. The first touch of their lips is breathtakingly tender, like they are both scared to feel more, to fall more, scared that it’s all a figment of their imagination. 

They stay like that, lips touching feebly, until they part briefly, holding on to each other’s gaze. An intense need flashes across Satoru’s face shortly before he dives back in, taking charge. He brushes his thumb lightly underneath Yuji’s jaw, pulling him closer while Yuji fists his hands, unsure, into the fabric of his shirt.

It’s his first real kiss. He doesn’t quite know how to move, but wherever he falls short, Satoru is there to make up for it. 

Satoru deepens the kiss, rising up slowly until Yuji feels the world tilt beneath him. Satoru kisses him, equal parts sweet and desperate. A flicker of his tongue against the seam of his lips causes Yuji to part his mouth gently on instinct, to let him in, and he is not ready for the soft feel of Satoru’s tongue inside him. The soft glide of their tongues sends ripples of shivers down his spine. 

A wicked sound leaves Yuji’s pliant mouth, and if it were anyone else maybe he would be embarrassed. But not now, not with Satoru. Not with the butterflies that are fluttering deep in his stomach. 

He wants this. He wants him. 

So they move in tandem, saying the words that only the smack of their lips can speak. 

Satoru maneuvers them around again, this time pulling Yuji into his lap, and Yuji goes willingly. 

Their kisses are ravenous now. Too much and at the same time, not enough. Satoru’s soft groans make Yuji’s heart flutter as neither of them make any attempt to part from the other. One hand creeps underneath Yuji’s hospital Juban and the other cups the back of his head. He leaves Yuji heady with his touches. 

Yuji never wants this to end. He’s submerged under the weight of his feelings for him. 

Before he can chase this new feeling further, Satoru pulls back, his lower lip caught beneath his teeth to stop himself, Yuji whines, chasing his lips, but Satoru laughs, kissing him on his forehead instead, tenderly, then pulling him into a hug. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Probably longer than I remember,” Satoru admits. “But if we go any further right now the nurses are probably going to see something incredibly sinful.” 

It takes Yuji a minute till the meaning registers in his kiss lidded brain. He feels flushed as he buries his face in Satoru’s neck. 

“You’re so terrible.” He jokes. 

“And you’re adorable,” Satoru teases, not making any moves to change their positions. 

They stay like that for what feels like hours, tangled in each other’s embrace until Yuji finally says, “I can’t believe you brought a megaphone to my race.” 

“I had to make sure my voice stood out in the sea of attention seekers,” he confesses. 

“Says the biggest attention seeker.” Yuji laughs, face burying deeper into Satoru’s neck. 

“Is it bad if it’s only your attention I want?” 

Yuji shifts his head, meeting his gaze.

“Hmm… I guess not.” he says, then he adds. “But you don’t have to do anything for my attention, Satoru. You’ll always have it.” It comes out tender, too tender and he’s too hyper aware of how simple that realization makes his heart race. 

Satoru doesn’t answer, just pulls him closer, lips brushing the top of his head. The simple action sets Yuji at ease. He closes his eyes as he drowns out whatever doubts remain, choosing to sink into the bliss of the moment.