Chapter Text
Satoru stared up at the large school through his purple tinted glasses, gusts of wind whipping through his hair. The building in front of him was a far cry from the sleek, modern universities that he toured with his father all those years ago. A patchwork of dark faded brick and peeling paint, with a rickety sign proclaiming the institution’s name in letters that had certainly seen better days.
Satoru sighed, adjusting the hold he had on his duffle bags and stepped inside. The lobby was dimly lit, with fluorescent lights casting a yellow glow over the worn linoleum floor. He approached the reception desk, where a middle-aged woman with a severe bun and glasses perched on the edge of her nose was typing furiously on an ancient computer.
“Uhhh, hello,” Satoru began, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as his voice cut through the silence of the room. The woman barely glanced up.
“Name?” she demanded in a flat, nasally tone.
“Satoru Gojo.”
She tapped a few more keys before finally looking at him. Her eyes were sharp and cold, scrutinizing him over the rims of her glasses. “Right. You’re the one who took a gap year,” she said, as if it were a personal offense. Satoru resisted an eyeroll. She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a plastic card on a lanyard, sliding it across the counter to him.
“This is your keycard,” she said briskly. “It gives you access to the main building, the library, and the dorms. Don’t lose it because replacements are a hassle and not cheap.”
Satoru nodded, taking the card. It was rather…ugly. He shoved it in his pocket. “Okay…thanks.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You need to swipe it at the readers to get in and out of the buildings. And make sure you swipe out when you leave, or you’ll set off the alarms. Got it?”
“Got it,” he replied, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“And try not to forget your schedule. The orientation session starts in an hour, down the hall and to the left. Don’t be late.”
“Right, don’t be late. Thanks,” Satoru said again, a bit more tersely this time.
The receptionist didn’t respond, already back to her typing as if he had ceased to exist. Satoru, who wasn’t as oblivious as people thought him to be, got the hint pretty quickly and turned away, clutching his bags.
Two duffles, on the lighter side. Satoru doesn't have many personal belongings. At least, none he wished to carry over into his new college life. So lugging his bags up to his room wasn't as big of a hassle as Satoru thought it would be. Besides, he learned how to travel light after a whole year of bouncing from city to city in the States. So the few bags he tossed over his shoulder weren't an entire burden to hull up the narrow and slightly grimy stairs.
Satoru really didn't want to be here. He had taken a gap year, as the receptionist previously stated, moving to the States shortly after throwing up his cap at graduation. Some would say he ran away. His mother would say he ran away. But Satoru didn't see it like that.
The plan was for him to live with his father after highschool, attend a university of his choosing where he'd study business and take over his father's company. Being the sole heir to the Gojo company, Satoru's life was pretty much planned out for him since the moment he popped out of his mom at the hospital.
But life gets in the way, and Satoru decides he's had enough. So after graduation, after ghosting all but one of his friends, and cussing out his father at his grad party, Satoru buys that one way ticket to America and books it. Completely falling off the face of the earth for an entire year.
What he did in that year is still a blur. Satoru was either drunk or insanely high through 98% of it. Partying in the United States was no joke. They took it very seriously and Satoru Gojo was having the time of his fucking life. No responsibilities, no familiar faces, no yapping in his ear about what he can and can't do.
Two fucks? Satoru didn't give. Hell, he even changed his number. Hung with other millionaires in penthouses and clubs. Started modeling over there for a bit too, using his infamous last name for leverage and would've made it to the top if his time there hadn't been cut short.
To say his parents were livid would be an understatement. Their golden child, causing a ruckus on the other side of the world. Acting out, completely unhinged, unprofessional. Embarrassing them. Disgracing the Gojo name and all that jazz.
His father's goons finally found him after a year of searching, lounging on a lavish couch in some model's penthouse, completely hung over from the night before. His fun was cut short and he was practically dragged kicking and screaming back to Japan.
Satoru has never been scared of his father before. He thought his words were all talk. But he was a powerful man, one of the most powerful in Japan and Gojo finally learned that when he was sat down in his office after landing back in his home country.
The bruises on his face didn't take long to heal, thank god. The profanities and curses his father screamed at him however were still ringing in his head to this day. It was like a wake up call for Satoru. He was shocked and beaten to the point of hospitalization into agreeing to whatever his father demanded of him from then on.
He had already missed the deadlines to apply to any of the top 3 colleges his father chose for him during highschool. So they went with his fourth option, Zenin University. Guess his father is friends with the founding family or some shit like that.
It was five hours away from home and unfortunately, a school that he knew a lot of his old friends planned to attend.
He tried to shake it from his mind. They were all technically in their second year already so hopefully Satoru wouldn't cross paths with any of them and be forced to explain himself for ghosting them all. It gave him a headache, just thinking about it.
Being confined within a school after tasting sweet freedom for an entire year in a whole different country might just kill Satoru. He was back under his father's thumb. An inevitable fate of his. Not to mention he's been on non speaking terms with his mother since he left.
He forced himself to not care about that.
After what seemed like a life time of climbing up these narrow stairs, Satoru finally came face to face with 236, the lucky number plastered on the peeling wood door of his dorm room.
A breath passed through his lips and Satoru reached up to re-adjust the zig-zag headband that he shoved on, to push back his outgrown hair and fringe. It became a little more shaggy over the past year, hard to tame. It sucked to deal with while traveling but Satoru's hair is one of his favorite features. He couldn't bare to change it and he doesn't trust anyone to trim it. Well...not anyone he's on speaking terms with anyways.
He lingered in front of the closed door a little longer than necessary and when he finally grew the balls to barge in, the door swung open, producing a gust of wind that made Satoru take a step back in alarm.
"What the fu—"
"Gojo! Wow, Oh my god it's so nice to finally meet you!" An excessively cheerful voice slammed into him and Satoru had to blink a few times to find his bearings and focus his gaze on the boy in front of him. Brown hair and big bug eyes. Must be the roommate.
The boy's hand jutted out to shake Satoru's not even waiting for a response. "Jeez, you look even cooler in person! Loving the hair, is it dyed? Shit wait I'm stupid, it runs in the Gojo family, everybody knows that." He face palms and all Satoru could do was blink. "Oh! And I hope you don't mind but I already decorated my side of the room. The left side. Ignore the posters too, how embarrassing. I'm really into anime, you watch any?"
Jesus Christ. Does this boy have an off button? Satoru's always been told that he himself was annoying, but this boy, his roommate, was in a whole other boat.
Satoru took a breath, staring at the boy and then moving his eyes over his shoulder to glance into the room. The posters covering his roommate's side were all familiar. Satoru himself does like anime too. One thing to bond over, he guesses. Other than that, the boy didn't seem to have that many belongings either. His bed was made, clothing already hung up and it looked like he was in the middle of setting up his desk.
"Uhhh," Satoru collects himself. "Yeah no, hair isn't dyed. I don't mind the posters. And sure I watch anime too. Didn't catch your name though."
He wasn't surprised that his roommate already knew who he was. Satoru has become used to it over the years. People assuming they know him just because of a broadcasted last name. Already having an impression of him before even having a conversation with him.
It irked him, yes. But he made sure to not let it get to him. The boy in front of him seemed nice. Overly nice. Satoru will try.
"My bad, I did all this yapping and didn't even introduce myself," the boy laughs. "Yu Haibara."
This time, it was Satoru's turn to flash a smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Haibara."
The two retreat into the room and Satoru finally drops his bags at his feet. His shoulders singing in relief. It was a long trip here and all Satoru wanted to do was crash.
"Call me Yu," Haibara says and flops down cross legged on his bed. "Need any help unpacking?"
Satoru looked down at his stuff. There wasn't much unpacking that Satoru needed to do. "Nah, I got it covered."
Yu hums and leaves Satoru to it. He shoves his clothes into a nearby drawer, never being the organized type. And then makes his bed. He didn't have posters and pictures from home to put up on his wall like Yu. He's sure he's got a ton of pictures with his ex boyfriend in high school, but he probably burned them all in a bitter rage.
Just like he burned all of his old tee shirts Satoru would steal after a day of hanging out. The books he'd leave at Satoru's house, the silver "emo" rings he'd let Satoru borrow. Everything. Any trace of him, Satoru burned, set to fire. Both literally and metaphorically.
So his wall was blank. His desk was empty, save for his laptop. Satoru's side of the room looked like a fucking prison cell with no personality.
It took around forty-five minutes for him to get himself settled and by the time he was finally done, he remembered that he had to attend orientation. Satoru groaned. He soo didn't wanna to go. What would they tell him that he already didn't know? All these college info sessions have been repetitive, and Satoru gets bored too easily.
He briefly asks Haibara if orientation is even worth going to. His roommate shrugs and basically tells him that it's only helpful when meeting new people and getting to know where everything is on campus. And since this was a last minute decision, Satoru hasn't toured the campus at all. So he rolls his eyes and figures it may be best to go.
Satoru leaves his room and immediately, he is lost. He tried to dive into his memories to recall the receptionists’ directions. Down the hall and to the left? Yeah, yeah that’s what it was. Satoru halted his steps, looking back and forth down the hall he was in. The real question is, what fucking hall was she even refering to? He scratched his head, totally at a loss, but what’s new?
Welp, Satoru decides to wing it, trial and error.
About ten turns later and a thousand pissed off cuss words flying from his mouth, Satoru finally skids to a stop before a double doored auditorium with a huge banner reading “orientation”.
“Fucking finally,” The white haired boy sighs in relief and drags a hang over his face. Yeah sure, whatever, he was twenty minutes late and he already heard a bunch of voices behind the doors, but Satoru made it. The old him would’ve just called it quits and not even attempted to find the damn event. The old him would’ve passed out on his bed and not wake up till the next day. But this is Satoru Gojo turning a new leaf. For his own sake, and to escape his father’s wrath.
He exhales and pushes through the doors and the room falls to a deadly hush. He stills, letting the door slip from his fingers and slowly close behind him.
Shit. Why were they all staring like that? Satoru stops himself from peering over his shoulder to see if an alien had entered the room alongside him and instead, straightens his spine and clears his throat a bit.
“Ah, sorry,” he says, holding up an apologetic hand as the sea of people continued to stare at him like he had two fucking heads. Which he didn’t, so he couldn’t wrap his mind around why they all looked like frozen fish, gawking like they were. His voice seemed to carry around the room, bouncing off the tall walls and enormous windows.
There was a stage, decorated with welcome signs adorned with the signature colors of the university, forest green and deep purple. Most of the people in here were obviously first years, all standing in small groups, each led by what appeared to be an orientation leader holding up large signs like “last names starting with A-B”.
As his eyes finally settled on everyone in front of him again, he slowly became aware of the attention he was getting. Satoru was used to attention of course. Being a Gojo, specifically, Satoru Gojo, his face was often held in the spotlight. He’s got a name sculpted for headlines. But that didn’t stop him from shifting nervously on his feet and feeling his skin prickle.
“Satoru Gojo, I presume?” A voice to his left made him jolt. It was a man, tall, stocky, sculpted face, and fitted shades. Satoru turned to face him, suddenly alert. The rest of the room seemed to get the hint and continued whatever they were doing before.
“Yeah, thats the name.” Satoru said, looking the guy up and down. By the way he stood, he could tell that he was important around here.
The guy made a noise and Satoru couldn’t tell if it was a scoff or a chuckle. Maybe a mix of both.
“I’m Yaga, Dean of the school.” he says, but doesn’t hold out his hand in greeting. Dean? Satoru eyed him again. He doesn’t look like a Zenin…? “We were expecting your arrival about twenty or so minutes ago. Just because you’re a Gojo, you don’t get a pass here. You’re as important as the rest of these students.’
Then the man mumbles something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘maybe even less’.
The audacity of this man! Satoru fumes, but doesn't let it show on his face. Instead, he settles with a relaxed smile and shrugs. “I never claimed otherwise, Mr. Yaga. You already think so lowly of me. Whatever have I done to you?”
Yeah okay, maybe Satoru is annoying and can be a brat. Sometimes His father could hit him all he wants, but he was never able to beat that aspect out of him.
Satoru couldn’t see the dean’s eyes from behind those red tinted glasses, but he was sure the tall man was rolling his eyes.
“Alright kid, I never asked for the sass. Just make your way over to the check in station and get with your group. We’re about to depart in three minutes.”
With that, the man gave Satoru another look and left him. Yaga. Friendly guy.
Satoru trunks on his heel and goes towards the check in station that Yaga pointed to. He gave his name, the people sitting behind the table were obviously current students, probably his age and definitely nicer than the receptionist from earlier. They gave him an orientation lanyard with his name on it, second one he’s gotten today and still ugly as shit. Then they directed him towards a group standing closest to the stage who all shared the same letter last name as him.
The kids paid him barely any attendance as he stood with them, fiddling with the lanyard around his neck. He’s never stood so silent in his life. But the other kids weren’t saying a word either. Guess he was put with the shy group or something.
“Alright group! We’re just about ready to head out. Who’s ready to see campus?”
That voice.
Satoru, he faltered. Like whiplash, his world completely froze when the owner of the voice took his place in front of the group, long strides, black boots hitting the tiled floor like the bell of death.
The boy’s dark eyes, lined with black eyeliner, traveled across the group. Surveying. He had this horrible smile on his face. Warm, welcoming. Almost unrecognizable, the boy was. Even though his black hair still tumbled over his shoulders, falling like waves of ink and his gaze was still horrifyingly piercing.
Satoru’s face steels as his situation dawns on him.
No. Oh no.
Like a Polaroid flash, memories of those same eyes flooded his vision; the way they'd lock onto his in the middle of class, the way they used to follow him as he cleaned his room and the boy lounged on his bed pretending to be into the show playing on the old tv. The way they gazed down at him that one time when his soccer game got cut short because of the weather. His eyes cut the storm in half, made Satoru forget about the pouring rain and lightning decorated sky. In that moment, under the chaos, the black haired boy held his jacket up over the two of them and brushed his lips against Satoru’s cheek—like he was special, worth looking at.
No, no, no.
This was impossible. Fucking impossible.
Satoru was four hours from home and his ex boyfriend never planned to go to this college. In fact, last Satoru heard, he was planning on moving to another country after graduation. It couldn't be him.
Suguru Getou.
The bane of Satoru Gojo’s existence and the love of his fucking life.
And even still, he was sickeningly gorgeous. Glowing amongst the crowd, tall, godlike. Perfect. Out of every model, every celebrity that Satoru has crossed paths with throughout his year in the Americas, Suguru getou was still the most beautiful man Satoru has ever seen.
— fuck, he was going to hurl.
Satoru gripped his lanyard, holding onto it like it was his life line as this sudden tidal wave almost swept him off his feet and onto his ass.
And then, those eyes, that Satoru probably knew better than the back of his hand, completely passed over him. Not a single pause, not a glimmer of recognition. Like he didn’t even exist, that grin that curled Suguru’s lips never faltering.
And oh it hurt bad. Really bad.
So bad that Satoru couldn’t even take it. So as Suguru opened his mouth to give whatever orientation speech he was trained to give, Satoru left.
He turned on his heel, fuming, on fire. And stormed away.
Fuck orientation, Satoru was getting the hell outta here…because he never planned to see that face again, hear that voice again. Ever again.
No one tried to stop him and Satoru was too much of a wreck to even notice whether or not anyone paid him any mind as he barged out of the auditorium doors, red in the face.
He didn’t care.
On his way out, he ripped the lanyard off his neck, tossling up his hair and hurled it into a nearby trash can.
Fuck turning a new leaf, Satoru needed to transfer out of this damn school.
_________________
The moment Satoru made it back to his dorm room, he flopped onto his bed, shoved his face into a pillow and screamed. Sure, maybe it was a childish response but holy hell, it was high school all over again. He has spent an entire year drowning out Suguru Getou from his mind with alcohol and any drug he could get his hands on. Lines of coke and days on acid, fucking up his brain cells seemed to do the trick. He was over him, Satoru has been over him.
But seeing him–Suguru–smiling and welcoming new students as if he were a nice genuine guy, was a shock he'd been entirely unprepared for. Their nasty breakup had sent Satoru spirling, going half insane. Turning into a person he hardly even recognized.
So why here? Why now damn it?
Satoru screamed into his pillow again, his anger and frustration muffled through the fabric. Chest heaving with the remnants of the forced composure he'd maintained while storming through the halls after leaving orientation. Thank the LORD above that Yu wasn't in the room when he got back. How embarrassing would it be for his roommate to see him break down day one.
His mind was a storm. Suguru's face, their shared past, and the cold final words they'd exchanged flashing through his consciousness. His usual confident, almost arrogant demeanor he showed to the world was nowhere to be found. Here, in the privacy of his room, he was haunted by Suguru and lowkey acting like a big baby over a guy he dumped two years ago.
Satoru rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.
Fuck Suguru.
He always finds a way to meddle into Satoru's life. Sure there was a time (which was most of Satoru's goddamn life) where he was attached to Suguru at the hip. Where he went, Satoru followed. What he did, Satoru did as well. They were inseparable, completing each other in a way that was almost ridiculous. As if they were born for the sole purpose of being at each other's side forever.
Until Suguru fucking Getou fucking ruined it.
At Satoru's grad party.
He didn't want to think of the gory details about that day because it was most definitely the worst moment of Satoru's entire life. And here he is now, two years and thousands of hookups later and that same heavy, nauseating feeling from that night was twisting its way into his gut again.
Satoru needed a goddamn break.
With a sharp inhale, he flicks out his phone and dials a number he knows by heart. He doubted Shoko would answer, she's wishy washy like that sometimes.
"What do you want?" Shoko's voice groaned through the phone after the fifth ring. Despite his dilemma, Satoru couldn't help but cheese at her irritated tone.
He loved bothering her more than anything really. Brought a big bright smile to his face every time she rolls her eyes.
"Well hello hello to you too, my darling best friend. Jesus. Can't a man just call a woman?" He teases, picking at his nails, trying his hardest to act cool instead of immediately jumping into a whole rant about how he saw his villain of an ex boyfriend at orientation.
"God Satoru just spit it out already. I'm literally at work right now."
In the background he could hear the beeping sounds of a hospital. Shoko got a job as an intern last summer and has been working her ass off ever since. They barely have the chance to talk these days, but Satoru always puts in an effort.
Shoko was the only person from home that he kept in touch with after disappearing. She was also the only person who knew exactly where he was during those years and he kept her updated on all the shenanigans Satoru had indulged in too.
In fact, Shoko currently attends the college right next to Zenin University because her girlfriend, Utahime, goes here. They were a sickening couple to be around.
"You never told me Suguru went to Zenin."
The line went quiet for a moment after that and Satoru held his breath. He knew Shoko was still somewhat in contact with his ex, they used to be best friends too. She was too unbothered to really choose a side after the break up, but it was obvious she talks to Satoru more than she does to Suguru. In fact, she completely gave Suguru the cold shoulder for a while. He doesn't know exactly when they had started talking again or why.
It's not like Satoru was hurt by that or felt betrayed or anything. No, he was fine. Even though Suguru completely blind sighted Satoru by cheating on him, doesn't mean Shoko had to hate him too. Though deep down he wished she did.
But he couldn't blame Shoko. She has other shit to deal with rather than be involved in their drama. But he does however wish that she had given him a heads up, a warning at least.
"To be honest it didn't cross my mind." She finally says, he could practically see her shrugging on the other side of the phone. "When does he ever come up in conversation these days? You keeping tabs on him suddenly or something?"
Satoru scoffed, loud. "Fuck no. I just...maybe sorta ran into him at orientation."
It was silent again as if she were processing his words. "You ran into him??" She says slowly, in disbelief. "Shit, what did he say? What did you say?"
Satoru rolls his eyes. Oh so now she's invested. "No no. I mean I saw him. Didn't speak to him, hell no." He corrects, staring at the ceiling. "He was an orientation leader or some shit and I stormed out as soon as I recognized him."
What he didn't mention was the fact that he still thought Suguru was fucking hot. Maybe even hotter since the last time he saw him. The last time he saw him. Satoru shivered, swallowing down a bad taste. He also didn't mention that Suguru's eyes glazed right over Satoru as if he hadn't existed. And he knew he saw him because, well, who wouldn't notice Satoru in a crowd of millions?
"Wow you stormed off instead of confronting him. How unpredictable, totally not on brand Satoru Gojo behavior."
Okay now the sarcasm was totally unacceptable. "Stop joking around this is serious Shoko—"
"I know it is."
"Apparently you don't because I'm obviously having a crisis and you're flaming me for not wanting to confront my cheating ex boyfriend," he whines. "Well I'm sorry if I don't ever want to see his face or hear his name again. But you're not being helpful. I need to change schools. I can't live breathing the same air as him."
Shoko sighs, obviously growing a little impatient. "Jesus okay first of all, you can live breathing the same air as him, you've done it every day for seven years and got on just fine, dumbass. Second, I'm not a damn therapist, that's Utahime's lane. It's a big campus, you probably won't run into him. And if you do, just run. You know, like always."
Satoru furrows his eyebrows, only really latching on to the last sentence she said and opened his mouth to defend himself when she cut him off.
"Getou is a jerk. I know that. What he did was horrible and I don't condone it. But if you truly moved on, you'll have no trouble staying at Zenin. You'll live." She pauses for a second. "Besides, it'd be nice to have you around again. Don't want you running off to freaking Spain this time."
All of Satoru's complaints were flushed down the drain at that. Shoko was his best friend. Suguru used to be and broke that trust.
But Shoko has been basically his emotional support after everything. He left her for two years in return. So he decided, if anything, he'll stay for her.
Satoru guessed she took his silence as a good enough answer. "Alright now, I need to go. I actually have duties, you wouldn't know anything about that now would you?"
And then she hung up. Shoko never says goodbye, always ends her calls with an insult. Satoru was left with his own thoughts as the room became eerily silent. His eyes glued to the chipped white ceiling, in blinking, feeling the weight of Shoko's words pressing down on him. Maybe she was right—maybe he could stay at Zenin. But the mere thought of running into Suguru again sent a chill through him. He rolled over, grabbing his phone again, and mindlessly scrolling through social media, hoping to distract himself from the impending doom of facing his past.
He hadn’t realized that his fingers mindlessly scrolled to Suguru’s instagram profile. It was private, that bright blue “follow” button teasing his eyes and playing with his mind. Of course he unfollowed the guy on everything after their split. But fuck, something in the back of Satoru’s brain wanted a sneak peak into the guy’s life. Now that he knows where he is
He had about a twenty–no, ten percent chance of Suguru actually accepting his follow request. He doesn’t get why he wouldn’t though. It’s not like it was Satoru who blew up their lives.
Just one click…
He quickly threw his phone across the bed, sitting up with a groan. What is he thinking? This was ridiculous. Following him gives total olive branch signals. And that was the last thing Satoru wanted to give.
And at the same time, he couldn’t spend the whole year avoiding Suguru like he was some kind of plague. He already ruined his highschool experience, he’ll be damned if Suguru ruins this fresh start.