Chapter Text
Yuuji’s always loved the rush of the ring. The lights shining on him, the cheers from both sides, hoping whoever they cheer for hears their voice specifically. It’s always fired him up, given him that boost to help him reach the top. It’s what spurred him on to challenge himself in other ways too, no matter how fruitful or… unfruitful they seem to come out.
He sat in Nanami’s office in the back of the dojo as the man shook his head, examining Yuuji’s academic performance from the previous semester. As part of his contract, Yuuji would give Nanami quarterly reports on how college has been going (read: kicking his ass like he wasn’t a black belt in jiu-jitsu) in order to continue qualifying to represent their dojo in tournaments.
“How’s it looking, sir?” Yuuji said with a smile, although his words were certainly far from hopeful. He knew how he performed last semester.
Nanami had always had a pretty unreadable face. Even after all the years he and Yuuji had known each other, which had felt like forever, Yuuji had never really learned how to decipher his scowl into separate emotions. It all just sort of looked like an angry scowl. Some of the other students claimed to be able to differentiate between them, citing specific looks as “Nanami’s happy mad face” or “Nanami’s shocked mad face,” but Yuuji always knew it was a load of horse-shit. That man was as unreadable as Yuuji’s handwriting.
“Well, given your performance in high school, this shouldn’t be much of a shock to me,” Nanami grumbled, setting the paper down onto the desk.
Ouch, Yuuji thought.
Nanami looked him in the eyes. “Take no offense, Itadori; it’s just pattern recognition.”
Double ouch.
He sat in the chair opposite Yuuji, looking towards the computer monitor on his desk. Yuuji looked past him, examining the wall behind him instead. Large trophies and medals were ceremoniously hung and draped, almost resembling an altar or shrine. Jiu-Jitsu is love, Jiu-Jitsu is life… or something like that. Yuuji knew that wasn’t true, though. Nanami only ran this place so he didn’t have to go back to being some accountant. Yuuji couldn’t blame him, really. He couldn’t think of a worse fate than sitting at a desk all day, crunching numbers. It just wasn’t his style. All that math would make his brain explode. Which was probably why that Quantitative Literacy class (the EASIEST CLASS his advisor could manage for him) was beating him like he owed it money.
He scratched his head as Nanami’s scowl somehow deepened.
“We have a tournament coming up this August.”
He looked back at Yuuji, who averted his gaze.
“As per your contract, you must obtain a 60% passing rate in order to participate,” He reminded him, stabbing a finger at the report on his desk. “This is a 47%.”
“I really am trying!” Yuuji defended himself, finally looking up. “I promise! I’m going to class, I’m taking notes, I’m studying!”
“Well, obviously, something isn’t working out,” Nanami muttered, reaching for his back pocket. He pulled out his phone and began typing on it.
“I guess I’m just so focused on doing good here that it’s not leaving me much room to do good anywhere else…” Yuuji admitted, his cheeks pink from embarrassment.
Nanami nodded. “Do you know what you even want to pursue?”
“I’m doing kinesiology right now… maybe I’ll become a sports trainer or something, I don’t know… I like sports, I like doing things like this. I like helping out with the little kids too. I like teaching. It just really sucks that I can’t just be magically good at schoolwork.”
“I know someone who might be able to help you.”
“Help? What, you mean a tutor? No way! I can totally do this on my own!–”
Nanami held one finger up to Yuuji to silence him as he pushed the phone up to his ear, a ring playing softly.
He heard someone pick up the phone and– even from Yuuji’s ears, which were not right next to Nanami or the phone– begin shouting from the other line, like he wanted Nanami to hear him from wherever he actually was, not just through the phone.
“Gojo, yes, I know– listen– no, stop–” Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I know I missed brunch last week; I did it on purpose. Because I didn’t want to see you.”
Yuuji smirked. Nanami’s candor was unintentionally a hilarious part of Nanami’s personality.
“I’m calling about one of my students. He’s having some trouble in college right now. Does Megumi still tutor? He’d be paid more than whatever his usual rate is.”
Yuuji heard the voice– Gojo?– over the phone but couldn’t decipher the words. Megumi, huh? And Megumi was a he? Interesting, he’d only ever met girls named Megumi.
“He goes there too? Well, that’s convenient for us. Perfect. I’ll send you details… let me know whenever Megumi answers with a yes or no. Have him email me. No, don’t text me. I won’t respond. You know my email. Yes, you do. Well, if you don’t, Geto does. Have him give Megumi my email. No, I already told you not to– I’m hanging up.”
Nanami hung up the phone as Gojo was still shouting over the line.
“Now, that’s been taken care of.”
“I can pay. I have a job, you know.” Yuuji’s lower lip protruded a little.
“No. Because if it’s someone else paying, you’ll take it much more seriously.”
Damn, he was right. He couldn’t just let Nanami down like that.
“I expect great things from you, Itadori. Don’t let your academics fall because you’re so focused on other things.”
Yuuji sighed. He knew the lecture was coming, but it felt just the same. Getting scolded by Nanami felt just like when his dad used to do it. Yuuji always ended up feeling so bad about what he did. When he was a kid, he’d cry about it, but he’s learned to keep the waterworks in by now.
Nanami was always right… damn it, Nanami was always right.
Yuuji nodded and got up, grabbing his duffel bag next to him. “May I be excused?”
Nanami nodded and waved him away. “Don’t forget practice next Tuesday.”
And then Yuuji walked out. He passed all the little kids, showing their parents the new moves they’d learned in class from the instructors. He remembered when he was just starting, how small he’d been. He remembered how Mom and Dad would take him to every tournament and buy him greasy, delicious fast food after. He smiled at the memory, walking out of the dojo and down the street.
The sun was beginning to set, which made Yuuji stop and take his phone out, snapping a quick picture of the colors. He had hundreds of pictures of sunsets now, but this one was just another to the ever-growing collection sitting in his camera roll. He pushed his phone back into his jacket pocket and walked the short distance to his truck, holding his breath as he turned the key, praying it wouldn’t just clickclicklick this time. Luckily for him, he wouldn’t need Nanami to come out with the jumper cables, as the old engine roared to life. Todo had told him over and over to get rid of it, but Yuuji couldn’t seem to get rid of it. Grandpa’s truck was really important to him. It still even smelled a little like him and those trips to the gas station if he really thought about it. He threw his duffel into the passenger seat and drove out of the parking lot, back to the dorms he stayed in.
He was lucky enough to snag a single room, but he wouldn’t have minded a roommate. It did give him more room to display his manga collections and figurines, his movie collection, and favorite vinyls from the bands he loved. He could watch whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He invited friends over, and it was nice not to feel like he was bothering other people’s space.
He flicked the TV screen on, put on his favorite Slowdive album, and stumbled into bed. He messed around on his phone for another 30 minutes before plugging it in. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He felt nice and free like this, the wall of sound penetrating his ears in the best way.
Yuuji had always been able to recognize as his body began to fall asleep, leaving his mind behind. His limbs sank deeper and deeper into the mattress, feeling both heavy and weightless. His breathing slowed down, and his heart rate decelerated. And then, finally, his brain was quiet, allowing the music to silence his thoughts long enough to provide him with rest.
His siren of an alarm woke him up the following morning, the sound blaring so loud in Yuuji’s ears that he leapt from his bed.
This was the only way he knew to get himself up in the morning anymore. By setting his alarm to the ‘Everyone is in danger and if you aren’t up NOW you can’t save them’ sound. It startled him out of bed so much that he’s surprised it isn’t just a response now. Surprisingly, if Yuuji doesn’t have it set, he won't wake up. Still! Even after all this time, Yuuji’s body just won't acclimate. Damn his heavy-sleeper genetics!
He stumbled and caught himself against his desk. He exhaled deeply, straightening himself out. He picked up his phone and stopped the blaring alarm, checking his notifications in the process. 1 new message, it read. Unknown Number.
Yuuji raised his brow, opening the new message thread.
Hey, this is Megumi Fushiguro. The guy Kento Nanami was talking about. If you’re serious about getting tutored, meet me at the library at 9:30 AM tomorrow. We can talk more there.
Yuuji gasped and checked the time. 9:23.
Shit! The library was a 15-minute walk!
He got his sweats off and fresh pants on in wicked timing, opting for a shirt on top of his laundry bin and throwing it on, quickly searching for socks and his shoes. He raced out of his dorm, only slowing down to lock his door, and hopped his way to the door in a sorry attempt to tie his left shoe, which he quickly decided wasn’t even worth the hassle, and continued on, laces flapping wildly as he sprinted across campus.
He made it to the library building in record time, 2 minutes before 9:30 hit. He messaged Megumi back.
Hey! I’m here!
Megumi responded back that he was at a back table, and Yuuji found his way back there. Only then did he realize that he had no idea what this guy looked like. There were a couple of options. One was a woman, so obviously no. There were a couple of kids in a study group, and one lone guy with a lot of notes and textbooks surrounding him. Using his deductive reasoning, he walked over to the lone guy and stood before him.
“Megumi Fushiguro?”