JJK University AU
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AcademicRival!Gojo forced you to work for that top student position. Forced you to study in ways you'd never studied before — rewriting notes, using flash cards, spending ungodly hours in the library poring through those ridiculously thick text books — when acing assignments had been a cake walk during all your school years back in your home town. He forced you to pay extra attention in lectures when you could have risked a nap or two back in high school and still come out on top. It infuriated you in ways that shouldn't have been possible, but you couldn't not do it. Being the top performer was your whole identity at that point, and what would you have been without it?
AcademicRival!Gojo had an irritating habit of somehow appearing behind you, leaning over your shoulder to make sure you could feel the heat from his body and smell his stupid cologne, just to pull those dark sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and make a show of marvelling at whatever test grade you'd just gotten back.
"Woah~. You really are super smart, aren't you?"
You'd grit your teeth hard enough that they almost ground to dust the first time he'd done that exact thing and said those exact words.
By the time it was the final test before exams, you were used to it. Somewhat. Enough that you managed to keep the urge to grab a fistful of his stupid white hair and slam his stupid face into your desk. You snatched your paper and shoved it into your bag, not caring if it crumpled or tore.
"Get lost, Gojo."
"What? I was just giving you a compliment! In fact, ..." He slid his own paper onto the desk where yours had been. You glanced at it, and you needed to take a second to breathe, to calm yourself. He'd beaten you. Again. By two measly points. Rather than respond, you simply got up, slung your bag over your shoulder and left the lecture hall.
AcademicRival!Gojo had somehow gotten your number near the start of the semester, and would only use it to send you the most aggravating messages.
Bastard: studying hard for those exams?
You ignored the message, and went back to reading the same line for the umpteenth time. For some reason, nothing could stick. There were too many emotions swirling in your head for anything of value to take root — annoyance, anger, a throat-clutching fear of finishing your first semester at Uni and not being the top student — and your first exam was days away. You didn't need a blue-eyed idiot and his irritating messages to add to that mix.
Your phone buzzed with another text. Then another. Then another. You snatched up the device with every intention of shutting the damned thing off, but your eye caught the last message from your notifications.
Bastard: loser grants the winner one wish ~
Your finger hovered over the power button for a second. One wish? What the hell was he talking about? Your brows furrowed, but against your better judgement, you unlocked your phone.
Bastard:
Studying hard for those exams?
I bet you'll do great~
Wanna make it a competition to see who'll come out on top?
Loser grants the winner one wish~
You: Accepted.
You'd typed the message and sent it without thinking, then scowled when you realised what had happened. Being challenged was your one true weakness; it always had been. There were many in high-school who'd attempted to dethrone you, but they made the mistake of prematurely boasting that they'd be the one to do it. Destroying each one of them had been easy enough, but you would go overboard to widen the grade gap just to remind them where they stood compared to you. This time was no different. Right after shutting down your phone, you went back to reading notes. Your mind was clear.
AcademicRival!Gojo came up to you and casually threw his arm over your shoulder. It was a friendly gesture that had no place between the two of you. You bristled at the contact and immediately tried to shrug him off, but he held firm. You turned a deathly glare on him, but he ignored it. "Let go of me, or else I'll —" "Would you look at that," he said, cutting you off smoothly, leaning forward, lowering his glasses to peer at the ranking list that had been published that morning. "Looks like I won." His voice was lowered, his words spoken against the shell of your ear. It caused an involuntary tingle to dance over your skin.
You shoved him away then, spun on your heel, and stalked off.
You had lost.
You had lost.
For the first time in all your years of knowing yourself, you were not the best of the best. You were second place. First loser. And to that arrogant, blue-eyed bastard of all people. Gosh, you were going to throw up.
He appeared again as you were bathing your face with cold water from a fountain, trying to calm yourself. An impossible feat, considering your insides felt like they were ripping apart and messily stitching themselves back together. That feeling was new and unfamiliar. Was that how those hopeless suckers felt when they couldn't beat you back in high school? Was that normal?
You could feel his eyes on you, scrutinising your jerky movements, your shallow breathing. "The fuck do you want, Gojo?" You hissed, wiping at the water dripping down your face with the back of your hand. You refused to look at him. You didn't need to see whatever smug expression he was wearing; you felt enough like shit as it was.
AcademicRival!Gojo had asked, in a tone you'd never heard him use, "You, okay?"
"Peachy," You snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. You wanted to be rid of him, so you could deal with whatever this feeling was in peace.
His snowy brows furrowed then, drawing together over his ridiculously dark sunglasses, but he didn't press. "Remember our deal?"
The feeling got worse. A part of you did remember, somewhat. Halfway through your intense study sessions, the reason for beating him had gotten lost.
You raised a hand to your temple, pressing at the pulse that thrummed there. "Yeah, the deal. You ready to collect or are you going to gloat some more?"
"A gloat would be nice right now...."
"Gojo." You almost pleaded with him. There wasn't much that was keeping you from spiralling over the situation and you'd be damned if you did it in front of him. You were just hoping that he didn't make some dumb demand and that you had it in you to —
His hand was around your wrist, fingers warm, grip firm, pulling it away from where it still rested against your temple. Your eyes flew up to him, stunned. You were unable to react.
"Call me Satoru," his voice low, tone earnest in a way that you didn't associate with the cocky bastard. His sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and his blue eyes weighed on you with intensity.
"What?"
"My wish. Stop calling me Gojo." He tilted his head, eyes still peering at your face intently. "Call me Satoru."
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Author's Note
This is quite literally my third (ish) attempt at fanfiction and I caught on to the beauty of it pretty late in life, so there's a lot I might have to figure out when it comes to formatting, tagging, posting etc.
All that to say, go easy on an Aunty. But also don't be shy about sharing what you think!
