Chapter Text
If you would‘ve told Satoru a year ago that his best friend of 15 years will die and that he was forced to move away an hour from from where he lived, having to drag along his poor little brother his parents gave him custody for he would have laughed in your face.
And now? Satoru‘s Walking across a new, unfamiliar campus he was soon going to be walking daily on to get to his classes. Transferring Universities was a task, and not an easy one. Leaving behind his now dead best friend and their shared memories, his parents who couldn’t give a single shit about him anyway and also the town he grew up in. Only to now study Art in one of Tokyo‘s biggest University’s all left alone, like he was destined to start a new, successful life. He‘s promised himself to start over, find friends, grow out of his comfort zone and not be so damn introverted at all times and maybe even get rid of illegal substance addiction.
Satoru walks over the campus with curious and hesitant eyes, scanning every Student he passes up and down from head to toe, making sure they‘re not a threat to him in anyway. He‘s supposed to find his dorm, in this huge fuckass University he’s never seen before in his life, sign up for his classes and a Minor he didn’t choose yet.
The campus is full of life, or so he notices. The grass is turning greener again, considering the change of season from Winter to spring. Not to mention the air has grown both warmer and windier, leaving behind a fresh breeze of wind after a complicated and cold winter. Most of the students on the campus are actually studying, talking while sipping their coffee or hot chocolates they got from the cafe not far away from the Uni, most however in a rush to get to their lecture In time.
Satoru‘s headphones are winded around his neck as he saunters over the concrete and into the newfound building, he decides on walking into any of the three buildings and hoping to have the luck of it being the correct one. Gripping the metal door handles and opening the heavy glass doors and he’s met with a loud clamour of overlapping voices. He winces at the volume, fighting the urge to cover his ears with his hands, as he looks around. Rolling his shoulders and adjusting the sweatshirt that is suddenly too tight around his neck he pulls his headphones up to cover his ears and block out any sort of noise, thank gosh for noise canceling.
Satoru reaches behind to grasp his phone and unlock it to open Spotify, deciding to block out any sort of sound that still comes through the noise cancelling headphones with Music. Tapping on the song Kicking cars sung by Panchiko. Pocketing his phone once more into the back pockets of his baggy jeans he continues walking further into the long hallway of the University building. He walks and walks, staring blankly down at the tiles and the way his feet work, not bothering or even trying to acknowledge the students frantically passing him.
All he wants to do is find the stairs that lead to the dorms and then find his dorm and quickly settle in to never let anyone see him on campus except for when he‘s forced to attend classes. He groans internally and takes off again in a random direction, hoping he'll end up at the dorms.
He snakes through gaggles of teary students who seem to be revising for midterms, and weaves in between throngs of people for what seems like hours - but can't have been more than 30 minutes- yet he still couldn't find the dorms. He looks around, hoping he can find some sign to point him in the right direction but has no such luck. His head slightly swims from dizziness as he looks around him. Satoru takes in the crowds of friends around him; a fist bump, a casual high five, intertwined fingers. He gulps, turning up the music on his phone, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. He just feels so fucking alone.
Suddenly the people around him blur together as Sator realises in horror that he's tearing up.
He quickly knuckles his eyes and swivels around, desperate to get away from the crowd. He ends up finding an empty bench, not too far from the crowd yet not close enough that he feels suffocated.
He slumps down, shoulders hunched as he subconsciously tries cowering away from prying eyes. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, bowing his head and clutching his hair between his fingers. He looks sullenly down at the floor beneath him, boring his gaze into a flattened piece of spat out gum as he tries to keep his tears at bay.
Satoru squeezes his eyes shut and sucks air in and out slowly through clenched teeth.
Some things just never change, he thinks glumly as he remembers all the times he was alone in his early teenage years, and how no one ever approached him. Back then, he never understood what deterred the other kids away, but now he realises it's probably because of his status as part of the Gojo family. And probably how awkward and stiff he was, a result of years of isolation as a child.
Yet one person always saw through that, his one and only best friend, Ieiri Shoko. She pulled him out of his constant state of loneliness, she helped him realise that it's okay to speak to new people, she made his life worth living.
Until she was gone.
Satoru clenches his fist harder into his hair, tugging at the roots. He really didn’t want to think of Ieiri right now.
As he's about to stand up, to distract himself, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
Rapidly, he lifts his head up, letting his hands fall to his lap as he wildly looks around before he notices someone.
Satoru’s eyes lock onto probably the most perfect set of deep brown eyes he’s ever seen in his life. He inaudibly gasps and he takes in the person before him. Slightly tanned, flawless skin and sharp features paired with long, shiny black hair made Satoru’s heart still in his chest. His brain short circuited, unable to form a coherent thought whilst his mouth hung gaping open.
“You Satoru Gojo?” the boy asks, slouching
slightly, yet in a way that shows he’s tired and not afraid to take up room.
His voice snapped Satoru out of his daze, slamming his mouth shut. The only thing on his mind right now was how ruggedly handsome the person before him was.
He’s beautiful, he thinks, almost in agony by his looks. No, he's more than that, calling him beautiful feels lazy.
Abruptly he realises that the boy is staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.
He opens his mouth to reply but no sound comes out, he physically couldn't speak.
Not this again.
He nods, blinking owlishly up at him.
“Ah, I thought so. I’m Suguru Geto. You can call me whatever, I don't care. I'm your tour guide so follow me.” he says dully, before turning around and sauntering into the crowd, not looking back to see if Satoru is following.
He quickly jumps off the bench, ripping off his headphones and shoving them in his bag as he catches up to Suguru. Although he isn’t much taller than Satoru, his strides are much larger, making it difficult to keep up. Frustrated, he can’t even speak up and say something about it because, well… he can’t.
Suddenly Suguru pauses and points down a hallway, filled with students.
“The door at the end leads to the lunch hall, if you turn left you reach the art block. On the right you can find the english block.” he says seemingly bored and walks off, not even giving Satoru enough time to commit it to memory.
He lags behind yet again but Suguru notices and slows down his pace, slightly though. He angles his head back towards Satoru as they continue to walk, his hands in his pockets as he maneuvers between students as though it's second nature.
“Whats your major? And minor.” he asks, unable to help himself. Usually Geto doesn’t care about the new kids, giving them brief, meaningless tours and completely avoids them after. But this Gojo kid is different. Suguru couldn’t place his finger onto what it is exactly but he feels drawn to him in an inexplicable way. It irritates him but maybe Satoru is someone worth knowing.
He notices that he isn't answering him and is instead staring into the side of his face with wide, tense eyes.
He pauses, letting Satoru bump into him before turning around, scrutinising him. Suguru purses his lips, “Do you know what subjects you have?”
Satoru grinds his teeth together, faintly humiliated by his tone, yet he doesn’t look away, just continues to stare at his beautifully sculpted face.
Suguru frowns, ignoring the jostling students around them.
“Pass your timetable,” he orders, wearily yet gently as he sticks out a large calloused hand towards him.
Satoru fumbles in his pockets and pulls out a crinkled sheet of paper, handing it to him. Their fingers faintly touched, a whisper of warmth grazing his skin, yet it still sent tingles running across his arm.
Suguru taking the timetable into his hand makes him watch closely, observing the way his fingers twitch and his cheek bite down on the inside of one of his cheeks. Assumingly taking too long to read a damn sheet of paper with classes and times written on it. Opening and closing his mouth continuously like a fish out of water, not being able to speak his thoughts out loud.
Which aren’t any good anyway.
He looks up and nods once, handing the crumbled sheet of paper back to him and keeps brown eyes set on blue, gazing as they trail up and down his tattooed arms before gripping the paper tighter and pulling it back into his own possession.
Their fingers grazing once more, calloused hands meeting soft, pale and lanky hands, very different than his own.
Suguru waves a hand while jerking his head into the opposite direction as to where they just came from, up to stairways that lead up to dormitories. Satoru finally catches up to Suguru but almost stumbles into a Student, opening his mouth to murmur a quiet apology but yet again nothing seems to make its way out of his mouth, like his vocal cords don’t fully function anymore. He just wants to sink into cement and never let anyone see him ever again, the whole new kid experience here is already so humiliating even tho he hasn’t even been here for over 2 hours.
He follows and follows, stairs leading up as if there’s no end, till they finally get to the highest story, an endless hallway with many dorms already occupied. Gosh just how many people are in this University?
Swallowing harder each time he swallows he finally blinks awake and follows Suguru down the excruciatingly long hallway and stops when he stops at the dorm to his left. Suguru spins to him and holds out a key, watching Satoru blankly stare at it with raised eyebrows and minimally widened eyes.
Suguru clears his throat and brings his free hands fist to cover his mouth while proceeding to do so, snapping Satoru out of the trance. Satoru quickly shifts uncomfortably and practically yanks the key out of his hand and pockets them. Why is he so fucking embarrassing?
„Alright so,“ Suguru starts, holding his hands low while explaining „I’ll be your roommate from now on. We‘ll talk about the ground rules later, I already brought your stuff up into your room.“
He brought the stuff into his room?
Why would he commit to dragging his luggage all the way up these many stairways, and on top of that even set them down in his room when he could have just left them in the hallway?
Satoru stifly, almost barley nods his head and turns to unlock the door to step inside and letting Suguru follow.
He hears Suguru‘s footsteps behind him as he scans the neat, wealthy looking apartment. Everything looks extremely well cleaned. Every surface, corner, bookshelf where multiple philosophical books are lined up already, faintly dusting at the already crooked spine of it. The plants that Suguru seems to take good care of every day considering they‘re standing on the windowsill to receive the sunlight they need before hot summer noons start.
Everything seems to be clean, has he never had a roommate before?
Satoru brushes off the thought and follows where he thinks Suguru went and into the room right across from his to see Suguru already opening a window and exhaling loudly with his eyebrows furrowed, fanning a hand. It’s not that hot in the room, he’s being dramatic. Still, his one cheek dimple when he smirks at Satoru makes him stare.
„Kinda humid, my bad. I forgot to air it out before you got here,“ he sighs and moves aside to let Satoru take in his new room. „I don’t care how you decorate it or what you do with it, it is your room now after all.“
He turns away, just about to leave before turning back to Satoru once more and snapping his fingers to get his attention.
Satoru‘s head snaps toward Suguru with an open hanging mouth that he quickly remembers to close
„Ground rules later yeah? I‘ll be back at around 6.“ Suguru points at him before patting the doorframe and rushing out, leaving him standing alone in the center of his new dorm room. The front door of the Dormitory closing just as fast as it opened.
6 what? AM or PM?? he honestly isn’t helping.
Although, he still nods like the people pleaser he is.
With a Long exhale through his nose he walks back out and into the hallway to drag in the moving boxes Suguru earlier apparently carried all the way up here alone, sure he did. What is he? Fucking hulk?
With a tiny bit of effort he hauls two boxes up into the arms that were used to carrying large canvas for his Art projects back in both Highschool and his old University before he moved, his muscles flexing under the weight of the boxes he’s holding upright and somehow not walking into the doorframe even tho he literally can’t see shit.
Satoru drops them down onto the mattress, the mattress dips immediately and he exhales, walking over to lean out of the window and stares down at the extremely beautiful, royalty like looking campus. The dormitory is so high up he‘s feeling dizzy just barley tipping his head out the window, the wind brushing through his white blonde hair and making him raise his hand to pull the strands away from the pale eyelashes that cast faint shadows across his cheeks. He watches Student after Student come and go from the campus, the other buildings or even just to sit down on a bench and study away while nursing a cup of coffee and a slice of cake they yet again bought at the café spotted when first walking onto the campus not far down from the University.
Its peaceful, far more peaceful than the University he attended classes at before.
Far more.
Although, having to make new friends (which, he probably won’t at all considering he won’t talk if his life depended on it) and having to get used to a new Art teacher rambling about his/her life that Art has many modern ways to express itself, what’s Art about someone sticking a banana peel onto a white canvas and calling it a day only for it to get millions of purchases? It doesn’t make any sense to him that people would dare to call such effortless modern creations Art, that’s why he’s sticking to the traditional, normal style of it. The one he‘s learned ever since he‘d been the 'weird kid' in both elementary and middle school who was always sketching nature into his notebook just by using a barely holding on already half split pencil.
Till his potential was wasted thanks to his old Highschool teachers, after that he decided on switching to an art school. The art school was located further down town from where he lived, back then that meant he was forced to take the train to it. The school had a mid high costing tuition, but thanks to his families wealth that wasn’t a problem. Although the thing that helped him get into a college royal looking like this was simply getting a high, well deserved scholarship.
Satoru just deeply internally hopes that him joining in the midst of a Semester won’t be too much of a problem, since he didn’t start off too well earlier with his roommate Suguru, who he had to stare at with the big bug-eyed person he is.
He eventually begins ripping open the moving boxes he taped shut with Sharpie writings on it to remember where he put which belongings, starting to hang up his posters and every single other items he brought.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★
Satoru is just hammering the last nail into the wall to stabilize the bookshelf he got for both his folders and mangas, when someone knocks on the door, making him jolt and nearly drop the fucking hammer on his head. He should seriously unironically wear one of those helmet construction site workers wear all the time, just in case you know?
He opens his mouth to say something like 'come in' or anything except for looking like his jaw is permanently hung out in that place, when he sees Suguru now standing in the doorframe still actively holding onto the doorknob with this calloused fingers of his. Satoru‘s eyes snap from Suguru’s hands to Suguru‘s face, watching the way he’s letting his gaze trail every poster he hung up, every moving box still on the floor and every bookshelf that was already hanging on the wall, under one of the bookshelves above his desk is a pinboard with already printed out pictures of photographed nature and one picture looking like it was taken of a girl, the only thing noticeable in the filtered picture the short bob she carries.
Suguru turns his head to him with a soft yet amused grin, his hands now stuffed into the depths of his pockets „I see you settled in well,“ he glances back around the room
„You need any help building up the rest of the furniture?“ he asks with a tilted head, feet hesitating to take a further step into the bedroom, instead just choosing to stare at Satoru and await a response.
Satoru‘s gone mute again, he’s not been able to croak a single word out ever since Suguru approached him on campus while he was sitting on the bench, not a single word. Not even a thank you when Suguru had said that he‘d brought up his luggage all the way into the highest story, he feels so pathetic. So, he just shrugs.
„Well do you need help or do you don’t? It’s really not a million dollar question.“ he chuckles, voice turning fond at the recurring silence Satoru gives him.
Satoru opens his mouth before vehemently shaking his head with his blue eyes widened and his eyebrows lifted, waving him off with two hands, reassuring he does not need any help.
„Right right,“ Suguru exhales through a quiet chuckle that escapes him, angling his head over his shoulder to jerk it out toward the hallway „Come to the kitchen would you?“ he calls out while shuffling backwards out of the bedroom and probably into the kitchen,
Satoru freezes, inhaling slowly to himself before moving and stepping over the left over moving boxes he‘s forgotten to throw away yet.
In the kitchen, Suguru gestures him to sit down and he complies, sitting down across from Suguru, leaning back and crossing his arms to prevent him fidgeting with the ring on his fingers.
Suguru starts talking about ground rules and what he wishes that they maintain throughout the time of being roomates.
„Right so, I don’t want any of your stuff laying around in my area. Laundry, plates, cans or bottles of whatever you drink, I don’t care. I don’t want it in my space.“ he makes clear, watching Satoru nod before he continues „Good. I want you to respect my 'bed times',“ he air quotes before resuming „Meaning,So if I knock on your door and tell you goodnight I’m excepting you to be quieter.“
Satoru nods, starting to fidget with the rings on his fingers, finding a way even with the crossed arms. Suguru‘s voice is careful and deep, Hands gesturing like he meant to make sure Satoru actually understands where the rules stand, and where he stands.
Although the only thing creeping him out is the way he’s broader, and buffer than Satoru. Has Multiple tattoos, and Satoru doesn’t have any, regardless of Suguru wearing a long sleeve he‘s able to see the biceps straining against it and fuck this is distracting him far more than he wishes it would. So what? The guy is a 6'3 tall body guard while he’s just as average and a foot shorter? no need to fucking stare, Satoru, is what he tells himself.
Tch. Doesn’t mean he’s not as athletic as Suguru is either.
He nods and nods as Suguru keeps listing rules and holding up fingers with each rule, he already has his index finger pointing at the 9th finger. Is he a kindergarten kid? Why is he getting a full of lecture on what to beware of while being his roommate. However, listening to him speak is truly one of the most soothing voices he’s ever done. The smooth vibrations, not rough, not scolding him for never responding back, even to a question. He just accepts it, taking Satoru in like he came and probably always will, otherwise he would‘ve already made a fuss about Satoru being rude for not giving him an answer of being able to keep eye contact.
After 5 more minutes of Suguru‘s non stop rambling and Satoru‘s non stop silent agreeing with his chin perched onto his palm and knuckles against his cheek, Suguru lets out a long exhale and finally drops his palms onto the wooden table while staring at Satoru with a blank expression, carefully asking him „Do you have any rules you want to add on?“,
Satoru thinks.
Thinks about the things Suguru had named not even 2 minutes ago and about the rules he would want to change or add something on to, except there is none. Considering both of them are responsible Adults that are in their 20’s and capable of taking care of their own health and problems, the rules Suguru set seem pretty reasonable and very easy to follow.
If Satoru would know why he isn’t able to get a single tone out of his mouth still bothers him, he seriously needs to call up his therapist again.
„Alright then,“ Suguru claps his hands together while sitting upright, making Satoru‘s eyes snap up from the table he was emptily staring at till now, eyes wide before relaxing once more. He sees the way Suguru‘s expression shift as soon as brown eyes lock onto his own, fond and careful. Maybe just the slightest bit concerned, „I actually have plans to go watch the volleyball game in the gymnasium with some friends of mine, you‘re free to join if you‘d like?“
An invitation to join Suguru and his friends? Well…it surely is kind thing to invite the new guy to immediately make friends. However Satoru isn’t going to let the feeling of Suguru trying to pity him because he’s new and doesn’t talk to anyone bury deeper into his stomach than it already is, so he shakes his head, giving him a stiff, forced smile to which Suguru dryly says with a smirk „Your loss then,“ and getting up after watching Suguru put on his leather jacket and flash him a sing-songed goodbye
All alone, in this creepy ass wealthy looking dorm.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★
Satoru earlier fell asleep in his bed after scrolling on his phone for a too long time, leaving his room dark and cold with the window still open, letting in the cold spring night air. The moonlight shining straight into the room through the window and curtains waving around with the breeze, sparkling into his face and greatly illuminating his already white hair and other white features.
His covers are tangled around his body, fiddled through his muscular thighs and calves, snaking all the way up to the way he has his arms wrapped around it and breath faintly into it, practically cuddling with it. His eyelids twitch constantly, reminding anyone that would see that he’s deep into dreaming.
Looking peaceful and younger than the when awake. He nuzzles deeper into the soft fabric that still smells like home and familiar memories rush back into his head, connecting and sliding their way into his dreams.
Half of the dreams consist of memories with people he knows or has known in his life, half of these his brain wont let him fully process and unable to remember each one of them in the morning.
Regardless of what Satoru‘s dreaming, one thing that’s sure is that with the new chapter of his life now starting, The new university, new opportunities at art, new opportunities to make new friends, get away from his terrible habits, he‘s unaware of how much his life is going to change in just a span of a few months, aswell as the overall semester he will spend with his new roommate Suguru.