"THE FRATERNITY GIRL – PART 2."
This story is part of a series. If you'd like to start from the beginning, you can read the previous part here - 1 . And if you're ready to keep going, you'll find the next parts here - 3.
The beach idea became a problem approximately thirty seconds after it was born.
Because one thing was mentioning it in the middle of the chaos, letting everyone start arguing about umbrellas, picnics, and sunsets as if organizing an outing was enough to fix the disaster they had just caused. But a completely different thing was remembering the most important detail of all.
Before they could invite you anywhere... They had to talk to you.
And that meant going up those stairs.
Those damn stairs that led to the second floor of the fraternity and that, suddenly, seemed to be kilometers long. Because you were still locked upstairs. Because ever since you went up after the fight, no one had seen you again. Because you hadn’t come down for dinner.
You hadn’t answered the messages.
You hadn’t even opened the door when Yuji, almost an hour ago, had tried to leave you a cup of hot chocolate that ended up getting cold on a small table in the hallway.
And the more time passed, the heavier the guilt became.
The living room, which was normally the loudest place in the entire fraternity, was drowned in a strange silence. The television was still on only because nobody had bothered to turn it off, although no one was paying attention to what appeared on the screen.
The sound of the program mixed with the hum of the air conditioner and the constant tapping of the rain that had started falling a few minutes ago against the windows.
Satoru was sitting directly on the floor, with his back against the couch and his legs stretched out in front of him.
His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and his head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as if he expected to find an answer there.
After a long sigh, he spoke with his voice completely drained.
Suguru, who had been sitting across from him for a while without managing to write a coherent message on his phone, slightly raised an eyebrow.
He had written “can we talk?” at least fifteen times.
He had deleted it fifteen times too.
—Ten minutes ago you said you were going to do it.
Satoru didn’t even lower his gaze.
—Ten minutes ago I still had dignity.
Suguru let out a laugh so small that it was barely audible.
—You’ve never had dignity.
—That doesn’t help either.
The silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t one of those calm silences they shared when they simply ran out of things to talk about.
It was heavy, uncomfortable, the kind that forced you to think too much and made it impossible to push away the things you were trying to forget.
Both Satoru and Suguru were still trapped in the same memory, reliving over and over what had happened only a few hours before.
They both remembered the food court filled with students too clearly, the stranger approaching you to talk and the way you had responded to him with the same kindness as always.
After that, everything had happened too quickly: Satoru’s irrational impulse, the shouting that made half the campus turn to look, and the punch that turned an uncomfortable situation into a disaster they could no longer escape from.
But the worst part wasn’t remembering the fight.
What they truly couldn’t get out of their heads was your expression when everything ended. Neither of them could forget the disappointment that crossed your eyes before you turned around and walked away. If you had only been angry, they probably would have found a way to fix it.
However, seeing you disappointed was different.
It was a much deeper wound, and both of them were painfully aware that they themselves had caused it.
—I had never seen her like that before… —Satoru murmured suddenly, without stopping his gaze from the ceiling.
Suguru didn’t need to ask who he meant.
—I thought she was going to hit me.
Satoru let out a bitter laugh.
—I would have preferred that.
Because yelling eventually ended, but the way you had stayed silent before leaving...
Very close to them, Yuji walked from one side of the room to the other so insistently that it looked like he was making a path through the carpet.
He had spent several minutes looking back and forth between the stairs, Satoru, and Suguru, as if waiting for one of the three of them to do something.
Finally, he stopped in front of them.
—What if you just go upstairs?
Both of them looked up at the same time.
—I mean... I’m saying it because... the longer you wait... the worse everything feels.
—Thank you for your brilliant analysis —Satoru replied with a completely dead voice.
Yuji lowered his shoulders.
—Don’t apologize too or I’m going to start crying —Suguru murmured.
—I think you were already close to doing it.
The voice came from the dining room.
Toji was leaning against the doorframe with a cup of coffee in his hands and a shamelessly amused smile on his face.
He had been watching the whole spectacle for a while and, unfortunately for everyone, seemed to be enjoying it a lot.
—I never thought I’d live to see this.
—The great Satoru Gojo terrified of a girl.
Several laughs escaped from different corners of the room.
Even Nanami smiled slightly.
Satoru pointed toward the exit.
Toji took another sip of his coffee without losing his smile.
—You’re a terrible person.
—I hope someone hits you.
—There has been enough boxing for one day.
That immediately made a guilty expression appear on Satoru’s face.
The smile disappeared almost instantly.
And, for the first time since he had started making fun of him, he stopped smiling.
He simply lowered his gaze to the cup. Because even he knew there was a limit to jokes.
On the other side of the couch, Megumi remained sitting completely silent.
His elbows rested on his knees and he stared directly at Satoru. He had known him for so many years that one look was enough for him to understand that this time the problem was real. He had never seen him this lost.
Not even when final exams almost made him repeat a semester.
Not when he lost a ridiculous bet with Toji.
Not when he had problems with some professor.
—Just go upstairs —he finally said calmly—. It doesn’t matter if you know what to say. The important thing is that you say it.
Satoru let out a humorless laugh.
—It sounds so easy when you say it.
—What if she doesn’t want to listen to me?
He didn’t answer immediately.
That left the entire room silent.
Megumi’s words remained hanging in the air for several seconds.
Nobody answered immediately. Not because there was nothing to say, but because everyone knew he was right. If you didn’t want to listen to them, there was no perfect speech that could change that.
There was no magic sentence, carefully rehearsed apology, or romantic gesture capable of suddenly erasing what had happened that afternoon.
The only thing they could do was stand in front of you with the truth, accept their mistake, and hope that, if you couldn’t forgive them yet, you would at least be willing to hear them.
But accepting that reality was much harder than saying it.
Satoru dropped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes tightly.
—I hate when the kid is right.
Megumi didn’t even react.
He was already too used to it.
—We’re practically the same age.
—Spiritually, you’re eighty years old.
Toji burst out laughing from the dining room.
—On that, I agree with him.
Megumi gave him a completely expressionless look.
The atmosphere managed to relax for barely a few seconds, but only a few seconds. Because reality was still waiting upstairs.
Yuta, who until that moment had remained leaning against one of the windows watching the rain fall over the fraternity’s garden, finally approached slowly.
He had always been the most careful when it came to conflicts.
He didn’t talk much, but when he did, everyone ended up listening.
He stopped beside the couch and looked first at Suguru, then at Satoru.
—You’re already doing it —Sukuna murmured from an armchair.
—Everyone is so sensitive today.
Yuta completely ignored the comment.
—I think you two are thinking too much about apologizing the right way.
Satoru slightly lifted his gaze.
The two of them frowned slightly.
Yuta took a deep breath before continuing.
—Because there is no right way. If you start preparing a perfect speech, you’re going to end up saying something you don’t actually feel. She knows you both too well not to notice.
Suguru slowly lowered his phone.
He hadn’t thought about it that way.
—Yes. Say exactly what you’re thinking right now.
Satoru let out a bitter laugh.
—That means admitting I’m an idiot.
This time, nobody laughed.
Not even Toji insisted. Because the guilt was still too obvious on Satoru’s face.
Choso, who had spent the entire conversation sitting in a corner with his arms crossed, finally lifted his head.
He wasn’t someone who talked much.
That was why, when he opened his mouth, everyone ended up turning toward him.
—When someone gets hurt...
—...the worst thing you can do is decide for that person how long they should take to feel better.
Satoru looked at him silently.
Choso continued with the same calm tone.
—...let her be sad. Don’t try to convince her that everything is okay just because you already understand your mistake.
Those words hit Suguru especially hard. Because that was exactly what he had been trying to do since they came back.
As if time could go backward.
As if saying sorry once was enough for everything to go back to normal.
Nanami finally put down the book he had been unsuccessfully trying to read for several minutes and crossed his legs calmly.
Nanami ignored the comment with the patience of someone who had spent too many years dealing with Gojo.
—You’re confusing two different things.
—And earning forgiveness.
The room became completely silent again.
—The first one depends on you.
Nanami rested his forearms on his knees while speaking with the same calmness as always.
—The second one depends only on her. And you’ll have to accept either answer.
Satoru felt an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach.
You might not forgive them.
You might still be angry.
You might ask them for time.
And you had every right to.
Just imagining any of those possibilities made his chest twist.
Yuji looked at the stairs again.
Then he looked at Satoru.
He couldn’t stand that atmosphere.
He couldn’t stand seeing you sad.
And he especially couldn’t stand seeing those two people, who normally seemed capable of fixing anything, completely defeated.
The boy scratched the back of his neck nervously.
—I just want to say that... she cares about you both a lot.
Satoru felt his heart jump.
—Today, when I walked her here...
He stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking about the words.
—She didn’t speak badly about you.
Yuji slowly shook his head.
—She was hurt. Really hurt, I’d say, but she never said that she stopped caring about you. The only thing she kept repeating was that she didn’t understand why you did something like that.
The silence that followed was different.
Because those words hurt much more than any scream.
You didn’t understand why the people you trusted the most had ended up hurting you.
Satoru slowly lowered his head. He rested his elbows on his knees and hid his face between his hands. Nobody said anything for almost an entire minute.
The only sounds were the rain hitting the windows and the distant ticking of the wall clock marking the seconds.
Until, unexpectedly, Sukuna broke the silence.
—Are you going to keep acting like two condemned men or are you going upstairs already?
—You can’t say it like that.
Sukuna stood up with complete calm and walked until he was standing in front of Satoru.
He looked at him for a few seconds.
Satoru barely lifted his gaze.
—If she opens the door...
—...go in. If she yells at you, listen to her. And if she kicks you out... accept that you earned it.
The smile disappeared from his face.
—But stop hiding down here waiting for the problem to disappear on its own. Because it won’t disappear.
Much harsher than anyone expected from Sukuna. And precisely because of that, they worked. Satoru remained still for a few more seconds. Then he took a deep breath. Once. Twice. Three times.
And, very slowly, he lifted his head. He looked at the stairs.
Suguru held his gaze. There was no need to say anything. They both knew exactly what the other was thinking. They couldn’t keep waiting.
They had already wasted too much time.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
They stood there, at the beginning of the hallway, staring at the door at the end of the corridor as if the distance separating them from it was much greater than it actually was.
It was only a few meters, but to both of them it felt like an endless journey.
Satoru slowly let out a breath.
—We can still pretend we passed out.
Suguru didn’t even look at him.
—We can say we had an existential crisis.
Satoru made a defeated face.
—You’re very insensitive toward my defense mechanisms.
—And you’ve spent ten minutes trying to invent a new one.
No matter how much he tried to joke, Suguru could see it.
He knew him too well not to notice the slight trembling in his hands, the way he clenched his jaw, or how he avoided looking directly toward your room. It wasn’t fear of an argument. It wasn’t fear of you raising your voice. It was fear of having hurt you in a way he didn’t know how to fix.
And that was something completely new for him.
Suguru took the first step.
He didn’t wait for Satoru to gather more courage, because he knew that if they stayed there another minute, both of them would find a new excuse to delay it.
He walked slowly down the hallway and, after a couple of seconds, he heard Satoru’s footsteps following him.
The silence surrounded them again.
The only sounds were the constant tapping of the rain against the windows at the end of the hallway and the creaking of the wooden floor beneath their sneakers.
That second floor had always been quiet, but that night it felt different.
As if even the walls were aware of the tension that had been lingering since that afternoon.
Satoru lifted his eyes toward your bedroom door.
He couldn’t help but remember how many times he had reached that door without even thinking about it.
He entered to bother you while you studied, to ask you for food because he was too lazy to cook, to show you some ridiculous thing he had found on the internet, or simply because he wanted to spend time with you.
He had never needed to gather courage to knock on that door.
They stopped in front of it.
Satoru swallowed hard while keeping his eyes fixed on the doorknob.
For a moment, he thought about all the possibilities that could happen after knocking.
You could open the door. You could ask them to leave. You could completely ignore them. You could cry again.
Every single possibility twisted his stomach.
Suguru glanced at his best friend’s profile.
It was strange seeing him like this.
For years, he had seemed like someone incapable of doubting himself.
Convinced that he would always find a way to fix any disaster.
Now, however, he looked like a completely lost boy.
He barely lifted his gaze.
Suguru took a deep breath before speaking.
—Whatever happens when she opens that door...
He waited until Satoru looked at him.
Satoru lowered his head for a few seconds.
—Let her speak even if it hurts.
—And don’t try to justify what you did.
This time, it took him a little longer to answer.
Suguru nodded slowly. Then he raised a hand, intending to knock on the door.
His hand remained suspended in the air. Barely a few centimeters away from the wood. And, for the first time all night, he was the one who hesitated. Because he wasn’t ready either.
Because even though he had kept calm for hours to support Satoru, the guilt also weighed heavily on his shoulders.
He had watched everything spiral out of control in the food court.
He had realized too late that both of their jealousy was making decisions for them. And when he finally reacted, the damage had already been done.
Satoru looked at his frozen hand.
Suguru let out a very quiet laugh.
—I thought I was the only one dying of fear.
—You’re not that special.
For the first time since the fight, they shared a sincere smile.
It lasted barely a moment. But it was enough to remind them that they weren’t alone.
Suguru slowly lowered his hand.
He looked at Satoru one more time.
Satoru took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, he nodded firmly.
They couldn’t keep delaying it.
They had already waited too long.
Suguru raised his hand again.
This time, he didn’t hesitate. His knuckles touched the wood softly.
Three knocks. Firm. Respectful.
The sound seemed to travel through the entire hallway.
The two of them held their breath.
Satoru felt his heart start beating harder.
—Maybe... —he murmured very quietly— maybe she’s asleep.
Suguru didn’t take his eyes off the door.
The silence stretched between them again.
Satoru started nervously playing with the edge of his hoodie sleeve. He had never been good at waiting, and those few seconds felt eternal.
Just when he was about to speak again, a muffled sound came from the other side of the door.
Like someone had placed a book on a table. Both of them lifted their heads at the same time.
Then footsteps could be heard.
Each step bringing someone closer to the door.
Satoru stopped breathing.
Suguru slightly tightened his jaw.
The footsteps stopped right on the other side. And then the metallic sound of the lock began to turn slowly.
Neither of them looked away from the door.
Satoru’s heart was beating so loudly that he was convinced it could be heard throughout the entire hallway.
He felt the palms of his hands starting to sweat and, for a moment, wondered if he still had time to run down the stairs.
The door opened only a few centimeters.
First, only a small crack appeared. Then, very slowly, the wooden door continued moving until it allowed them to see you.
Both of them stopped breathing.
You were wearing an oversized hoodie that practically reached halfway down your thighs.
Your hair was tied up messily, with several strands falling around your face, as if you had tried to make a bun without much effort.
Your eyes were still slightly swollen, and the faint reddish tone around them was enough for both of them to understand what they had been trying not to imagine all afternoon.
And that simple image made the weight of the guilt feel even more unbearable. Because they could handle seeing you angry.
They could handle you yelling at them.
They could even handle you closing the door in their faces. But knowing they were the reason you ended up crying...
That was something completely different. For several long seconds, nobody said a single word.
You simply looked at them from the other side of the door.
And the silence started to become so uncomfortable that it almost seemed to have a sound of its own.
He looked down at the floor.
Took another deep breath.
Then he looked at you again.
The word came out so quietly that it almost sounded like a question.
Suguru closed his eyes for a moment.
Of all the ways he had imagined that conversation beginning, he never thought Satoru would end up greeting you like a child who had just been scolded.
You stayed looking at him for a few more seconds.
There was no harshness in your expression. But there was also none of the usual warmth.
And that hurt more than either of them was willing to admit.
Finally, you sighed softly.
Your voice sounded tired.
It wasn’t physical exhaustion.
It was that kind of tiredness that appears after crying too much, thinking too much, and replaying something over and over again that refuses to stop hurting.
Satoru became completely blank again.
He had mentally rehearsed dozens of ways to start that conversation while sitting downstairs on the living room floor.
However, now that you were actually standing in front of him, none of those words seemed enough.
Suguru ended up stepping in before the silence could swallow them again.
You didn’t answer immediately.
You lowered your gaze for a moment, as if you were genuinely thinking about it.
That small hesitation was enough for both of them to feel a knot tighten in their stomachs.
You had never needed to think about whether you wanted them inside your room. They had always walked in as if it was also a little bit their space.
And they themselves had caused that change.
After a few seconds, you stepped back without saying a word, leaving the door completely open.
It was a silent invitation.
Suguru murmured an almost inaudible “thank you” before entering.
Satoru took a second longer.
He looked at your face once. Then at the room. And finally stepped forward.
The room still carried exactly the same scent as always.
And the books piled up on the desk because, no matter how many times you promised to organize them, they always ended up becoming little towers of notes and novels.
However, there were also small details that made their chests tighten.
The cup of hot chocolate Yuji had tried to leave for you was still on the desk.
The gray blanket you loved so much was completely tangled on the bed, as if you had spent hours hugging it.
There were several crumpled tissues beside the pillow.
And an open book rested face down on the mattress, exactly on the page where you had probably stopped reading when you couldn’t concentrate anymore.
Satoru felt an emptiness in his chest.
He knew all those little details too well. He knew that when you were sad, you hid in your room. He knew that you tried to distract yourself by reading even though you ended up staring at the same page for half an hour. He knew you let your food go cold because you lost your appetite. And, above all, he knew you wrapped yourself in that blanket whenever you needed to feel safe.
Because he was the one who had given it to you the previous winter.
Remembering that made the guilt even more unbearable.
You slowly walked back to sit on the bed.
You absentmindedly gathered the blanket and placed it over your legs while hugging a pillow against your chest.
It was a completely unconscious gesture, but Suguru immediately noticed that you were searching for some kind of barrier between you and them.
They remained standing near the door.
Neither of them seemed to know what to do with their hands.
Or even how to position themselves.
It was such an absurd situation that, if it didn’t hurt so much, it would have almost been funny.
You watched them for a few seconds. Then you raised an eyebrow slightly.
—Are you two going to stay there for the whole conversation?
Both of them reacted at the exact same time.
Satoru walked over and carefully sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a respectful distance between you, as if he was afraid of invading a space he used to cross without even thinking.
Suguru sat down in the desk chair, turning it slightly so he was facing you.
And once again, silence returned.
Nobody seemed willing to break it. Because now that they were finally there, face to face, there were no jokes from Toji, no advice from Nanami, and no interruptions from Yuji that could ease the moment.
And everything depended only on them.
The silence settled between the three of you again, but this time it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence caused by not knowing what to say. It was one filled with everything none of you could find the words to express yet.
You were still sitting on the bed, the blanket covering your legs and a pillow held against your chest almost without realizing it.
In front of you, Satoru remained sitting on the edge of the mattress, his back completely straight and his hands resting on his knees.
You had never seen him this still.
Suguru, from the desk chair, moved his gaze between you and his best friend, waiting for one of them to find the courage to start a conversation that was inevitably going to hurt.
The only sounds breaking the silence were the constant tapping of the rain against the window and the faint ticking of the clock resting on one of the shelves in your room.
Normally, this room was full of laughter, ridiculous arguments, Satoru touching things he shouldn’t, and Suguru scolding him while you ended up laughing at both of them.
That night, however, the atmosphere felt completely different.
As if even the walls knew that something between you had broken.
The entire walk to your room, he had repeated what he wanted to tell you in his mind, but now that he finally had you in front of him, all those phrases seemed to disappear.
He never ran out of words.
He always found something to say, even in the most uncomfortable moments.
However, that night he couldn’t organize a single thought.
The only thing he could do was look at you and remember your expression when you walked away from the food court.
That look still haunted him.
And realizing that he was the one who caused that look hurt much more than any punch he could have received during the fight.
You were the one who finally broke the silence.
—What did you want to tell me?
The question came out calmly, almost as a whisper.
There was no irony or accusation in your voice.
There wasn’t the usual warmth either.
As if you had spent the entire afternoon trying to understand something that still made no sense to you.
Satoru immediately lifted his head when he heard your voice.
He opened his mouth intending to answer, but the words got stuck in his throat again.
He lowered his gaze toward his hands, squeezing them tightly until the bandage around his knuckles became wrinkled between his fingers.
—I... —he started, but stopped again only a moment later.
He let out a small humorless laugh and slowly shook his head.
—I rehearsed this like a hundred times downstairs... and now I don’t remember anything.
For the first time since they entered, a different expression crossed your face.
It wasn’t quite a smile. But it also wasn’t the distance you had greeted them with.
Suguru used that small change to step in before Satoru completely froze again.
—We didn’t come up here to make excuses.
His voice sounded calm, but there was obvious exhaustion behind every word.
—Or to convince you that you overreacted or that you should understand why we acted that way. We know none of that would change what happened.
You kept your eyes fixed on him without saying anything.
Suguru took a deep breath before continuing.
—We came up because we owe you an apology. A real one. Without trying to justify anything.
Satoru nodded immediately.
He looked at you again, and this time he managed to hold your gaze a little longer.
Those two words came out with such sincerity that they almost made the room fall silent again.
—I’m really, really sorry.
He lowered his gaze back to his hands before continuing to speak.
—Not only for hitting that guy... but for putting you through all of that. For yelling at you in front of everyone. For making you feel uncomfortable. For acting like I could decide who was allowed to get close to you and who wasn’t. I can’t do that... I never could... and yet I acted like I had that right.
His voice started to fade little by little.
—The worst part is... I didn’t even think about how you would feel. I only thought about myself. About what I was feeling. About my jealousy. About my anger. And when I realized that you were crying... it was already too late.
The room fell completely silent again.
Satoru took a deep breath before continuing.
—I don’t think I’ve ever felt this ashamed of myself.
He didn’t raise his eyes.
He was afraid of finding your gaze again.
Because, for the first time in a very long time, he wasn’t sure he even deserved for you to look at him.
For several long seconds, nobody said anything.
You kept watching Satoru silently. You hadn’t interrupted him even once since he started talking and, although your expression remained serious, the strong barrier you had when you opened the door for them was no longer there.
You were simply listening to him.
And for someone like him, someone used to hiding every feeling behind a smile or a joke, that was almost more intimidating than if you had started yelling at him.
Suguru remained seated in the desk chair with his hands intertwined over his legs.
He had decided to let Satoru speak first because he knew he needed to.
Since they returned to the fraternity, his best friend hadn’t stopped repeating over and over that everything had been his fault, that if he hadn’t lost control none of this would have happened.
Suguru didn’t completely agree.
Yes, Satoru had thrown the first punch, but he couldn’t pretend that he had acted correctly either.
He had also felt those ridiculous jealous feelings that neither of them had wanted to admit for weeks and, when he had the chance to stop things before they exploded, he simply didn’t.
He looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back at you.
—I also need to apologize to you.
His voice came out calm, although the exhaustion he had carried since the afternoon was still obvious.
—I’ve been thinking about everything since we left the food court, and I realized something I don’t like admitting. All this time I thought I was the reasonable one between the two of us. I was always the one who stopped Satoru when he got carried away by his impulses, the one who tried to think before acting... and today I failed exactly like he did.
—I saw how he was starting to lose control. I realized he was getting angrier and angrier, and even then I did nothing. I convinced myself that I could fix it later, that it would be enough to take him away once everything ended... but while I was waiting for the perfect moment to intervene, you were already suffering the consequences.
He slowly shook his head.
—I’ve always wanted to be someone you could trust. Someone you could feel safe with. However, today I ended up being part of the problem. And that’s something that hurts me a lot.
His last words stayed suspended in the air.
They weren’t meant to make you feel sorry for him.
They were simply a confession.
And that was exactly why they were so difficult to hear.
You lowered your gaze to the pillow you were still hugging. Your fingers absentmindedly played with one of the seams while you tried to organize everything you had been feeling for hours.
You had spent the afternoon angry at them, then sad, and finally just exhausted.
Having them in front of you now, looking so different from the way you had left them hours ago, made everything even more confusing.
You breathed slowly before looking up again.
—Can I ask you something?
Both of them nodded at the same time.
Suguru was the one who answered, although Satoru didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second.
You stayed silent for a few moments longer, as if you were still searching for the right words.
—What did you think was going to happen?
The question completely surprised both of them.
You continued speaking before they could try to answer.
—I mean it. I want to understand. That guy came over, said hello to me, and started talking to me. That’s it. What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to leave with him? That I wasn’t capable of telling him no if I felt uncomfortable? That I needed someone to come and fight for me?
The questions came one after another with a calmness that hurt much more than any scream.
—Because that’s what it felt like.
You hugged the pillow a little tighter against your chest.
—I felt like neither of you trusted me.
Those words fell over the room like a weight.
Satoru closed his eyes for a second.
Suguru slowly lowered his head.
But you still weren’t finished.
—I’ve been friends with you for years. You both know exactly what I’m like. You know that if someone makes me uncomfortable, I’m the first person to set boundaries. I’ve done it before and I would have done it again if it was necessary. But you didn’t even give me the chance.
Your voice started to crack slightly. Not because you were crying again. But because remembering the scene still hurt.
—All I saw were the two people I trust the most acting like my opinion didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t even there.
Satoru felt such a tight knot in his throat that it became difficult to breathe.
The entire argument had been about him.
And not once had he stopped to think about how you were experiencing that situation.
He couldn’t help but bring a hand to his face.
His voice was barely a whisper. He slowly shook his head.
—I didn’t even realize that.
He lifted his eyes toward you.
This time, he didn’t look away.
—And I think that’s the worst part.
His shoulders completely dropped, as if the weight of his guilt had finally defeated him.
—I can’t tell you that I’ll never make a mistake again, because that would be a lie. But I can promise you something...
—I will never decide for you again.
I will never act like I know better than you what you need. And I will never forget that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.
He stayed quiet for a few seconds before adding, with a sincerity that almost broke his voice:
—I’m sorry for making you feel small... because that is never how I’ve seen you.
For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
The room became completely still after his words. Not because there was nothing else to say, but because both of them seemed to be waiting for your reaction.
Satoru kept his eyes fixed on you, although it was obvious he was trying to prepare himself for whatever answer you gave him.
Suguru, meanwhile, looked calmer on the outside, but his intertwined hands on his legs gave him away.
They were both nervous. And that was something you rarely saw. Because they had always been the ones there when things got complicated.
The ones who found a solution.
The ones who made you laugh when you were sad.
The ones who turned any problem into something easier to endure. But this time they were the problem. And they were waiting to know if they could still be your safe place.
You lowered your gaze for a moment. Not because you wanted to make them suffer. But because you needed to be honest with yourself.
Yes, you were still hurt.
Yes, what happened had wounded you. But you also knew who they were.
You knew how much they cared about you.
You knew that this hadn’t come from wanting to hurt you, but from a horrible mix of fear, jealousy, and protection that had turned into something it shouldn’t have.
Satoru even seemed to hold his breath, as if he didn’t know if that was a good sign or the beginning of another lecture.
Suguru lowered his head slightly.
—I’m not going to argue with that.
That small response managed to pull a tiny smile from you.
It was only a second, but for both of them it meant so much. Because after hours of feeling like they had destroyed something important, that small expression reminded them that you were still there.
The smile faded a little as you continued.
—I don’t want you to think that just because I forgive you, it means it didn’t hurt.
Both of them immediately shook their heads.
—We know —Suguru answered.
—We really know —Satoru added.
—Because if I didn’t care, I probably would have just left and that would be it.
That sentence made both of them look up.
—But I care about you two too much.
You felt your own voice becoming softer.
—And that’s exactly why it hurt. Because if it had been anyone else, I would have just thought it was a bad experience and moved on. But it was you. The people I always thought I could feel safe with.
Suguru closed his eyes for a moment. Because that was the part that hurt them the most. Knowing that the damage hadn’t come from a stranger.
You stayed quiet for a few seconds before continuing.
—So yes. I’m upset. And I’m probably going to keep bothering you about this for a long time because I plan on reminding you every time you do something stupid.
Satoru raised an eyebrow.
He raised his hands in surrender.
This time, the laugh that escaped you was small, but real. And that sound completely changed the room. Because it was the first time since the fight that the three of you felt like yourselves again.
There were still things to talk about. But there was no longer a wall between you.
Satoru watched you for a few seconds and carefully spoke.
—So... can I ask you something?
You looked at him curiously.
Something completely strange for him.
The question was so different from the way he usually acted that it even surprised you.
Because Satoru had always been the type to hug you without asking, to appear beside you when you least expected it, to lean against you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. But this time he was asking for permission.
And that showed that he understood.
You didn’t need to say anything else.
Satoru slowly moved closer and hugged you.
It wasn’t like his usual hugs, full of energy and jokes.
As if he wanted to show you that he was still there without invading your space.
You ended up hugging him back. And the moment he felt that, he released the breath he seemed to have been holding since everything started.
Suguru watched the two of you for a few seconds from the chair.
He smiled softly. Then he stood up and walked closer. There was no need to ask for anything. He simply ended up hugging both of you as well.
The three of you stayed like that for a while.
Just letting the tension from the last few hours slowly disappear.
With Satoru still mumbling apologies every now and then.
With Suguru slowly rubbing your back.
And with you in the middle, feeling that even though they had made a huge mistake, they were still the same people who had been by your side for so many years.
After a while, Satoru pulled away slightly.
Just enough to look at you.
His expression had changed.
Too nervous. And that immediately made you suspicious.
That exchange was way too obvious. You frowned slightly.
—What are you two planning?
They answered at the same time.
You let out a small laugh.
—You two are terrible at lying.
—We wanted to suggest something.
Satoru adjusted himself a little on the edge of the bed.
For the first time that night, he seemed to be getting some of his usual personality back.
Although he was still clearly nervous.
—We wanted to take you to the beach.
—We thought we could spend the day together. No fights. No problems. Just the three of us.
—As a way to make it up to you.
—Even though we know a trip won’t fix what happened.
—But we want to show you that we’re still us.
You stared at them. And little by little, a smile appeared on your face.
The two of them completely froze.
Satoru’s surprise was so genuine that it almost made you laugh.
Then you lowered your gaze for a moment. Because there was something else. Something you had been keeping to yourself too.
Both of them immediately became attentive.
—I also have something to tell you.
Satoru’s expression changed instantly.
—Are you leaving the university?
Suguru covered his face with one hand.
You looked at him and smiled slightly.
—I’m just going to tell you that it’s something important.
The atmosphere changed again, but this time it wasn’t because of sadness.
It was because of curiosity. Because now they had a question too.
And for the first time in a long time... The three of you were waiting for something together.
The morning came far too quickly.
While the fraternity was still wrapped in that strange silence of the early hours, when some people were only beginning to wake up and others had not even left their rooms yet, Satoru had already been awake for quite some time.
Not because he wanted to wake up early or because he was calmly excited about the trip, but simply because he had not been able to sleep.
He had spent most of the night tossing and turning in bed, trying to convince himself that he was not nervous, that he was just overthinking everything, that everything was going to be fine.
But the truth was much simpler.
He was completely nervous.
The idea of spending the day with you after everything that had happened the afternoon before had him completely restless. Because even though you had already accepted his apology, even though you had laughed with them again and even though you had agreed to go to the beach, a part of him was still afraid that something had changed.
That at some point during the day, you would remember what happened and pull away from them again.
And that was something Satoru never wanted to experience again.
That was why, when he finally left his room and stopped in front of your door, he stayed there longer than necessary.
Not because he did not want to enter. But because, for the first time in a long time, he did not know exactly what to do.
He was always the first one to act. He always found a way to break the silence, make a joke, or turn any uncomfortable situation into something easier.
But with you, it was different. Because with you, he did not want to make a mistake.
Behind him, Suguru was leaning against the wall in the hallway, silently watching him.
He had spent several minutes watching Satoru raise his hand to knock on the door, hesitate, lower it, and repeat the entire process.
Suguru looked at the door and then back at him.
—You’ve been thinking in front of a stupid door for five minutes.
—It’s the door to our friend’s room.
—Exactly. An important door.
Suguru shook his head, although a small smile appeared on his face because, even in moments like this, Satoru was still Satoru.
Satoru took a deep breath.
He looked at the door. And after a few seconds, he finally did it.
He whispered more to himself than to Suguru.
—Satoru, the idea was to tell her we’re leaving.
Suguru looked at him with a completely serious expression.
—I never thought I would see the day when Satoru Gojo was being respectful.
—I’m just being considerate.
Satoru was about to respond, but before he could, movement came from the other side of the door.
Both of them immediately fell silent.
Suddenly all of Satoru’s fake confidence disappeared. Because there you were.
The door slowly began to open, and you appeared in front of them with your hair slightly messy, still wearing the expression of someone who had just woken up and did not fully understand what was happening yet.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Because even though it was something as simple as seeing you just after waking up, to them it meant so much more.
It meant that you were still letting them into your life.
That after the fight, you were still there.
That they could still be with you.
You blinked several times when you saw them.
Satoru took a second to react.
You looked back toward your room, clearly thinking about your bed.
Satoru’s eyes widened immediately.
You looked at him, still half asleep.
—Yes, it’s fine. I’ll be quick.
You nodded your head before closing the door again.
—You know that when you say ten minutes, it actually means thirty, right?
Suguru let out a small laugh.
—I’m just telling the truth.
And for a few seconds, the two of them stayed there, staring at the place where you had disappeared.
After a few minutes, the door opened again.
This time, you no longer appeared with the lost expression of someone who was still thinking about their bed. You had changed, your hair was fixed in a simple way, and you had that calmness that always seemed to surround you whenever you were with them.
It was not exaggerated happiness or a fake excitement meant to show them that everything was fine.
It was something much smaller. But precisely because of that, it meant much more.
You were still comfortable with them.
And that was all Satoru and Suguru needed to see.
Satoru stared at you for a few seconds before finally reacting.
The answer came out far too quickly.
Suguru had to hide a small smile because it was painfully obvious. Satoru could face anything without hesitation, but with you, he still acted as if every little moment had to be perfect.
You grabbed your bag and closed the door behind you.
—I hope you two didn’t plan something too exaggerated.
Satoru and Suguru looked at each other at the exact same time.
That small exchange immediately made you suspicious.
They answered together. At the exact same time.
—It wasn’t suspicious —Satoru said way too quickly.
—It was extremely suspicious —Suguru added.
Satoru turned his head toward him.
You let out a laugh as the three of you began walking down the stairs.
And although to you it was a normal scene, something that had happened hundreds of times between the three of you, to them it was different. Because the night before, they had gone up those same stairs terrified.
With the feeling that maybe they were about to lose something they could never replace.
And now they were walking down them with you laughing again.
Everything was not fixed.
You knew that too. But it was a beginning.
When you reached the living room, several members of the fraternity were already awake. And, obviously, none of them could hide their curiosity. Because they had seen perfectly how Satoru and Suguru had spent the previous night completely devastated after the fight.
And now the three of you appeared together as if the tension had disappeared.
Although, of course, they knew it was not that simple.
The first one to look up was Yuji.
He was sitting on the couch eating something that he probably should not have been eating that early in the morning.
—Are you leaving already?
—Good morning to you too.
Megumi, who was near the kitchen making coffee, calmly looked up.
—Why does everyone talk like they were waiting for this?
Nobody answered. And that was exactly the answer.
Choso, sitting beside Yuta, let out a small laugh.
—Because we all knew you were going to end up apologizing.
He stopped. Because everyone was looking at him.
—The important thing is that you talked.
You looked at everyone and shook your head, amused.
—Were all of you paying attention to us?
Nanami, who was checking something on his phone near the door, answered without looking up.
—It was difficult not to notice.
—Were we really that obvious?
A very long silence. And then everyone nodded.
Satoru placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended.
—You have so little faith in me.
Megumi looked at him seriously.
—It’s not a lack of faith.
The room filled with laughter.
Even you ended up laughing.
And Satoru, although he tried to pretend he was annoyed, could not stop himself from smiling. Because this was the scene he had wanted to recover. Not one where everyone forgot what happened. But one where all of you could feel like yourselves again.
After saying goodbye to everyone and receiving several jokes about not burning the beach because of Satoru’s excessive energy, the three of you finally walked outside toward the car.
And that was when the next problem appeared.
Because one thing was saying you were going to the beach.
A completely different thing was seeing everything Satoru and Suguru had prepared.
There was an absurd amount of stuff.
And something that was definitely far too organized to have come only from Satoru.
You stared at everything.
Then you looked at both of them.
—How long were you planning to stay?
Satoru lifted his chin proudly.
—You brought too many things.
—I brought the important things.
You touched one of the bags.
Satoru immediately froze.
Suguru raised an eyebrow. And that was enough for you to realize there was something inside.
You opened the bag carefully. Inside were your favorite sweets.
And some flowers carefully protected.
Satoru, for the first time that morning, looked genuinely nervous.
—I just thought you might like them.
The way he said it was so simple that it made you smile a little. Because it was so Satoru.
He had never been good at saying things directly. But he always found small ways to show what he felt.
You carefully picked up the flowers.
The sentence came out without thinking. And for a second, the atmosphere changed.
You did too. But Satoru quickly looked away toward the car.
He cleared his throat slightly.
—We have a beach waiting.
And that small interruption was enough for everyone to start moving again. Because there was still an entire day ahead.
And none of the three of you knew that this trip was going to end up changing many things.
I hope you're enjoying it so far… get ready for the finale <3
