Satoru had a knack for taking a joke too far. He was the strongest, most handsome, and greatest of all time. So, why shouldn’t he also be the funniest? That’s his philosophy when it came to one-upping people on their jokes.
Nothing was off limits to him, and unfortunately since he had such a pretty face, he usually got away with saying some pretty vile things.
He was just a teenage boy after all. I mean, eighteen still had teen at the end right?
Anyone could find themselves being the brunt of his joke. As long as people were still laughing or nervously giggling, he didn’t care. He basked in the attention it brought him — the approval.
So when his friends started talking about women they fancied, Satoru let your name slip just to be included in the conversation. Sure, he did cast you lingering gazes and work extra hard for your approval, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Oh? Her?” Suguru prompted. His voice was light and airy. He wasn’t being judgmental, simply curious over his friend’s supposed muse for affection. His lilac eyes slid over to where you were seated amongst your friends.
For whatever reason, Satoru bristled defensively. Something inside him did not like the way his friends were suddenly taking notice of you. “I mean, yeah, but she’s totally not my type. She’s got that weird thing going on. Y’know? Like she’s so ugly that she’s kinda cute — in a pet kind of way.” The words sliced his tongue on the way out. He didn’t believe a damn word of what he was saying, but he couldn’t have them looking at you like that.
Suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused by Satoru’s crude description, but the rest of their so-called friends (followers) who were desperate for a crumb of Satoru’s attention laughed, agreeing with him.
“Why did you say you liked her then?” Suguru pressed. Surely to god his friend wasn’t a complete and utter asshat. He knew he had a conscience somewhere beneath that field of white hair.
Satoru was laughing along with the plebeians before he looked at Suguru, silently willing for him to drop the subject. “I mean, I just feel sorry for her. That’s all. I didn’t say I liked her. The poor thing would probably keel over and die if I ever showed any interest in her.”
“Uh huh,” the brunette hummed, still not convinced. “Why don’t you go do her a favor and bless her sorry life with your existence then? Go ask her out and make her dreams come true.”
His tone was sarcastic, but he should’ve known better than to challenge Satoru. He was met with blue eyes of determination and a tightened jaw.
“Yeah, go ask her out, dude. Then, tell her it was a joke,” someone encouraged.
“Holy shit. She’ll probably cry. That’ll be so fucking funny.”
“Remind her of her place, Satoru.”
To be clear, he didn’t want to do it, but who was he if not the entertainer?
His movements were robotic and calculated as he slowly got up from his seat and waltzed over to where your friends were huddled in the lunch room.
His friends watched with bated breath, except for Suguru. He was pleading with whatever higher power there was that his friend would only pretend to ask you out. Please god, don’t let him be a dickhead. Just let him be actually asking her some sort of random question.
“Hey,” Satoru said, a bit too formal for his liking. He shoved his hands in his pockets before bringing them back out again. How did he normally stand? Suddenly, functioning felt like it took a multitude of effort while you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.
Your friends went silent, all looking up at Satoru like he was some divine being that blessed you all with his presence. “Hey,” you greeted back to him with a small laugh. “What’s up?”
“Let’s skip the small talk, sweets. I know you like me, and I wanted to take you out.”
Your eyes widened. Sure, you had a small thing for Satoru Gojo, but who didn’t? Everyone seemingly fawned over him, but you thought you had at least been a little discreet.
That’s when it set in that he was asking you out — you. Not anyone else. He was asking you. Despite all of the choices he had, he was standing in front of you.
Slowly nodding your head, “Yeah, yeah, that sounds like fun.”
Satoru swallowed the lump in his throat. He secretly hoped that he was too rude for you to say yes. His stomach twisted as he thought about how he had to break your heart now.
He casted a look over his shoulder to his friends, and they were all cackling with laughter. All except Suguru, who shook his head firmly. He had been the one to suggest this in the first place, why was he backing out now?
“Well, I mean, I wanted to ask you out until I got a good look at you. You didn’t let me finish, doll. Did you think this was some sort of confession?” His voice was uncharacteristically ragged, like he had to force the words out of his mouth.
What is comedy without a little tragedy, he tried to tell himself.
“I’ll never be with someone like you,” he said, and he meant it. He didn’t deserve someone like you, not after a stunt like this.
The world went still as his words seemingly sucker punched you. You were no stranger to being asking out as a prank. It had happened once before, but you didn’t even like the first guy. He didn’t even let you get your rejection out before he had revealed it was some sort of prank.
This time, you liked Satoru. Sure, he was wildly popular and a little self absorbed with grandiosity, but when you two were alone in the library or in class, he was actually quite sweet and thoughtful. He was also smarter than he let on, which you found to be charming.
You blinked away sudden tears that threatened to fall, unwilling to let him see you break. “Right,” you muttered because he was still standing in front of you. Why was he still standing there? Shouldn’t he go celebrate this epic victory with his dumbass friends?
You grabbed your bag and abandoned your uneaten tray at the lunch table before you pushed past him to get out of the cafeteria. His friends were howling in laughter at your pain.
Satoru did not take any pleasure in their approval. He looked to where Geto was sitting, hoping to confide in his only true friend. But he was gone, rushing out of the lunch room to follow you.
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