Tapping Of The Notes in Different Equilibriums
♡ Synopsis: Tap! Tap! Swish! Hold, Flick! That was the gameplay of someone who played rhythm games. Satoru and you were just like two hold notes, perfect with each other, attached to the very hip, until circumstances changed, your lives changed, and new people came. Now you both were in the new music class, and can you both swallow the new versions of each other? (10k words)
♡ Tags and Warnings: angst, fluff, open ending, fratboy!gojo, nerd!gojo, nerd!reader, a lot of rhythm games references specifically bandori, Tae Hanazono is used in the header NOT as a self insert but rather as a character that Satoru likes, arguments, academics, bad parents, using games as escapism mechanism, co-dependcy
♡ Shizu's sticky note: Hey guys Valentine's is up and happy Valentines. I hope y'all don't kill me for this once-in-a-lifetime fic. This is my entry for the @sixxels valentines writing event, I hope you all like it. Credits to @/dollywons and @/angeliicide for the dividers ♡♡
It was one of the coldest winters you known. The air was blurring with ice in it's howl, and the streets were laden with snow. You were watching out the window, looking at the dusky skies as they laid out small balls of snow.
You had awoken earlier than usual. The clock had ticked to 4:45 AM, you wished time would go slower. Today was snowing, and you hated it. That means-
"My lovely child, you are up so early!" Your mother clasped her hands together firmly. Her presence alone sent a shiver down your spine, the atmosphere heavier and the air was filled with the electricity of tension that was making it difficult to breathe, as if uranium had exploded in your room.
"Yes mother?" You tried to keep your voice steady. She tilted her head to the side, smiling so fakely, "Don't you know what time it is?" She walked ever so slowly, your heart was beating out of it's chest, preparing to explode into smithereens. She cupped your cheek, oh so tenderly, yet you know the touch well.
"Look at your skin. It's so soft, so plump, you should thank me." She pinched your cheek, and to anyone, it would look like a lovely scene between mother and daughter, but her fingertips had anguish only you could feel.
"What did I tell you sweetheart? To always wake up exactly at the allocated time. No delay or eagerness. We don't want that, do we?" She pinched it harder, and you felt the sting. "Yes mother." She smiled, removing her hold on your cheek, "If I was any other mother-" her gaze sharply darted to a flying creature, she did a loud of her palms, killing a mosquito, "You would have gotten a huge slap. But not me, I am the kindest mother there is." And you believed her, because you did wake up early, and maybe it's your fault.
"Ah, looks like it's snowing heavily, you won't go to school today, isn't it?" You looked at the snow in agitation. You wanted to go desperately, because— whatever this was, was suffocating you. Your lungs always felt congested whenever your mother was around, and as the girl you were, you felt as if it's your fault every single time, she made you feel like that.
"Yes mother, it's snowing heavily. I won't be able to see my friends." You frowned. Truth be told, you didn't had friends you would say. Just people who were cherry picked by your mother as to how fitting they are to your friend. Smart, rich and goal oriented kids, who were also in the same loophole you were in.
"Mhm, such a shame. Well, it's mother-daughter's day then!" You gulped harder, you were afraid of whatever would ensue in that session. And you know how it goes, she always comes into this "strict" mode, the one that scares you to death.
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"Sweetheart, do not befriend anyone that isn't good in studies, okay?" You nodded, scribbling quietly in your notebook, heart in your throat. You glanced at your mother, she was checking your maths homework with a hawk eye and a ruler in her other hand, the tap of her ruler on the table like a bomb tethering to be blown. You gulped, and prayed to whoever was up above that all your answers hopefully come correctly. "Focus on completion", she caught your glance immediately, and slapped her ruler on the table, causing a dent on the table. You gulped and nodded, paranoia travelling through your veins.
You shouldn't glance, you reminded yourself, yet the paranoia was getting to your brain, air was becoming shorter and shorter as her rustle of pages could be heard. Would she slap your head like she did to the table? A deep wound in your head? The blood trickling down of your head, would she laugh and bring another copy of you? You shivered at the thought, and she noticed it yet again, her eyes piercing your soul.
You again tried to bring water back in your system, gulping down your saliva, steadying yourself from the direct arrow your mother put on you. You scribbled, and her piercing gaze went back to your homework.
You heaved a sigh of relief internally, feeling all airy. You continued scribbling, the atmosphere was tense, yet her gaze on your homework instead of you kept you at ease.
She closed the notebook, and you were so at ease, you needed to get out and breathe some fresh air. She noticed your relaxed shoulder and her jaw clenched, like seeing you happy was something terrible. "And after this, you have to prepare for the science Olympiad exams. Make sure to complete all the lessons taught tonight itself" You nodded, at least she wouldn't have her stare at you at that time, while you were in your room.
Your home was a prison, and if you even looked out of the desired oyster that she crafted for you, you would be pierced with the broken shards of yourself. At least numbness and absentmindness from everyday routine is way better than whatever your mother makes you feel.
It was time for breakfast, and your stomach was grumbling. You sat down immediately, hunger clouding your mind. And for some reason, seeing you so happy itched her up, "Sweetie, don't you think you should stop eagerly waiting for the food? It makes you look so desperate. Have some manners"
The world stilled around you. Her words rung in your head continuously. You were just trying to eat some food. You didn't mean to upset her. "I-i am sorry mother." Her smiled quirked up in cruelty. "Yes, and what do bad children get?" You braced yourself for the slap that was going to ring your soul out, until a door bell rung up.
"Huh?" Your mother immediately went and opened the door. Her gasp of happiness was something even you were surprised with. What caused her to glee up so much?
"Mrs Gojo?" Your ears perked up. The Gojos? You have heard of them more from your mother than from anyone else. Apparently, they are an elite class family, which your mother says that "she is on the same level as they are."
"Ah yes darling! I was just in the corner, I was distributing the muffins." Your ears perked up. Muffins were good, and you were hungry. "Oh.....really, I do not want to eat them." Your mother reclined, as if the hue of other people on the muffins disgusted her.
"Why not?" Mrs Gojo asked, ever so kindly and politely. "We just had breakfast so I am not that ready to eat them." She smiled, so sacchrinely sweet. "Oh, we were thinking of spending the morning with you, since Satoru and your daughter seem the same age." And as if a lighter has been burned into a heap of leaves, your mother practically jumped. "What! Really? My goodness yes! She was missing her friends and school anyways, right sweetie? And anyways, I ate the breakfast, my daughter has yet to eat, so there is plenty of food!" You gulped, nodding instantly. Gojo's mother smiled, "Then, we shall enter, shall we?"
Your gaze instantly fell on the boy, shivering despite being in layers and layers of clothes. His fluffy white hair, nose runny, and cerulean blue eyes made you lost in him. How did you even stumble upon him? You thanked your mother for introducing him this day.
"Satoru, say hi to her!" His mother pushed him forward, despite his reluctance. You stepped forward, extending your hand, "Hello Mr Gojo." Both the mothers giggled, seeing you call him that. The tips of his ears got a beautiful red hue, sensing his embarrassment.
"Mr Gojo is my father. You can just call me Gojo." His hands were still in his pocket, not even taking the initiative to extend it to you. Your hand was still awkwardly up there, waiting for him to take it.
And then you saw, Mrs Gojo ugly glare at her son, she looked like the evil stepmother of Cindrella, who was Gojo in this case. You shuddered, you could feel the energy you felt from your mother.
And maybe it was a rush of adrenaline, a peak of courage, seeing the glare of his mother, that you grabbed his hand out of the pocket, "Yes hello Gojo!" You smiled sweet as ever. He got red as a tomato, blushing rapidly. You held his hand tightly. You would be the prince to his princess.
Both of the mothers giggled, and as if the atmosphere had become less suffocating and more lighter. He looked up at his mother chuckling, and by the surprise of his eyes, even he didn't know that his mother would laugh.
"Can we both have a talk, just us smart students?" You firmly held his hand. Both the mothers giggled, nodding in. "Sure dear, he is all yours." As if it was an inside joke between both of them.
And now you were alone with Gojo, and he was with you, in your room. You felt more at ease with him, a total stranger than your own mother. He looked around, looking at your numerous trophies, "Your room seems so....." You immediately answered, "Is it weird?" He blinked, confusion in his eyes, "I was gonna say impressive. It's not that bad, though I have more trophies than you." You blinked rapidly, "Yeah, even my mother says that"
He raised an eyebrow, looking at you nervously twiddle your thumbs, "Hey, it's okay. I am older than you, maybe that's why I have more trophies?" You looked up, holding his gaze, "Really? How old?" He shrugged, "2 years older. You gotta learn and do more to catch upto me."
You pouted, huffing, "Yeah right as if! I am gonna be more smarter and cooler than you." He smirked, looking at you, "As if, you can't do just do that. I am superior for a reason. For example, I have done a level 25 on expert mode on Bandori."
You blinked, a game? You never played that many games before. "Wait, let me see!" You perked up, as he pulled his phone out and opened a girly game with a glittery screen. "See? It's cool as hell. Watch and learn disciple."
Disciple? You wanted to argue, until he opened the "any song mode" and poof, the round notes came rapidly in. You couldn't even keep up, as his fingers tapped rapidly, showing "Great!" "Perfect!" Repeatedly as he tapped the circles.
"What are those?" You asked, as he smoothly slided those green long slide notes. He answered afted a while, as the notes got slower, "Those are the sliders, we can never go wrong with them." You watched how he pressed his fingers more harder upon them then the round notes. The sliders seems difficult, especially with the several cuts that had on them.
Study for you was something you were obliged to do, something you were forced to do by your mother. But here, your eyes were twinkling in glee. Maths was predictable, science was memorisation, but this? This was pure skill, and you realised, how cool Gojo really is.
As he flicked the pink diamonds, the pretty pink colour dissipated into sparkles, making a cute sound of the ting of a bell. You noticed how he pressed the flick imperfectly, like the flick of his finger was different than the normal slide and tap. It caused a difference in his finger movements.
And as he played, you got more closer, more engrossed, as his fingers glided effortlessly upon the blue screen, the characters bumping up and down in joy, a fun animation. The score went up and up, from a C score to a double SS score. The taps were becoming to 100, then 200 combos, and finally, he finished the song in 786 combo, and the animation popped up, "Full Combo!"
He did a small air pump, and you were so engrossed, you didn't even register the tap he sent upon your shoulder, "See? Easy as a pie." You asked excitedly, "H-how do you do that! Teach me! Teach me!" You were vibrating in excitement. He blinked, looking at your excited self. He smiled, betraying himself. He didn't see such shine, such spark from anyone.
"As I say, sheer talent of mine, that only I, Satoru Gojo can do." He flipped his hair back, smirking up. "But I wanna do it as well!" You pleaded, joining your palms together. He looked at you, at your trembling palms and smirked, "Sure, only a humble being like me allows it. Do it disciple."
You gulped in anticipation, as he changed the settings of the speed to your level, and gave you an easy song to do. "Only easy? Can't I do just like you?" You asked, and he smirked, "Practice makes perfect, isn't it? Your first live is going to be horrendous" You gulped, your hands shaking, as the screen loaded in
And oh he was right. You couldn't catch the notes. They went the other way, or always got a "Good" or "Bad" or the worst, a "Miss". It's as if they were escaping you, running around in speed you cannot comprehend.
Gojo watched as you awkwardly tapped the notes with your lanky fingers. You weren't catching it, weren't able to he would say. But still, there was a happiness in your soul doing this, a happiness he didn't see when he first saw you cowering behind your mother.
"Gojo! I can't do it!" You whined, handling him the tablet in a groan and crossed arms. You were a perfectionist, and when things didn't go your way, you might give up. He shrugged, "Suit yourself." But there was a hint of sadness in his voice and his movements
He started playing again, and you couldn't help your betraying gaze fall upon his gameplay, as he played effortlessly. "I wanna try." He paused the game immediately, missing a note yet didn't registering it. "Really?" You gulped, "Yeah, I want to." His face, as if it was the sun, beamed up, and his usually navy blue eyes flooded in a soft cerulean blue haze.
The screen loaded again, and as if on cue, your focus got more harder. He saw as you taps got more consistent, rough, yet still doing the thing. He smiled as you got a singular perfect, yet that was enough to make him proud of you.
"That wasn't good." You frowned, and he looked upon you, "It isn't some competition ya know?" As if on cue, like an electric bulb lighting up, you looked upon him, feeling so ectastic, "It isn't, right?" He nodded, "Yeah, I often do this for relief.'
You smiled widely, feeling so happy. "Can we play like this, everyday?" And even if the winds grew more loud, the snow coming in strong, nothing could stop the shared heartbeat between you both.
"The internet connection is really bad down here. What if you say, we go up there?" You raised an eyebrow, "Of course it is, it's snowing. And where should be go up, mister?" You asked, swimging your legs. "Well, there is a secret place only special people know." You blinked in curiosity, "Eeek!! Tell me, tell me!"
He smirked, adjusting his glasses onto the bridge of the nose, "It has a password." Your feet tingled, "Tell me the password!" He did a dramatic gasp, then started tapping his forehead, "Hmm, should I tell you, or not?" You pouted hard, "Please Gojo, tell me!" He extended his hand, pointing his finger at you, did a hairflip and smirked, "Its-"
You vibrated with anticipation, "It's what!" He did a dramatic twirl, oh he was annoying, and pointed at you yet again. "The password is-"
"The Great and Powerful Satoru Gojo."
You stilled up, eyes blinking in confusion. Then as some seconds grew by, and awkwardness and silence filled the air, you fell into a fit of giggles. You never laughed so much ever. Your stomach was turning up, your smile lines were hurting, and your throat was itching with the laughter bubbling in your voicebox.
He looked at you, giggling so freely, holding your stomach, and your laughter was contagious, he fell into chuckles as well. You both laughed constantly, for about three minutes, then looked at each other, and again started laughing.
When you both didn't had the capacity to laugh anymore. You both were laying down on your bed, lungs heaving up and down. "So- heh, there is this treehouse, which is being built-" you giggled again, "H-heh? A treehouse? Mickey mouse clubhouse sorta?" He chuckled, pressing his cheeks together, trying to stifle the giggles, "S-shut up. It's winter, so it takes time to build up. In summer vacations, we will spend time together there. Get loads of internet." You giggled, "At Gojo's treehouse, come inside it's fun inside." You mimcked the clubhouse theme song, making him shoot you a glare with no heat behind it. "Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. But it's gonna be awesome. I can get tons of internet and play at my max capacity. But until then, I can come to your house and play, your house's interenet is neat"
Everyday, as of cue, in the evening, after classes were done, the best part came. You both played the game on his tablet. He let you have your turns, as you learned everyday, trying to get a full combo in the aching cold with your cold fingers. Each day was filled with anticipation, happiness and joy. And surprisingly, both your mothers saw it as a "good" arrangement, discussing their "politics" over tea parties. You never dwelled onto those words, or your studies when all your focus was becoming better in this game.
"So, when's the treehouse gonna be made?" You ask him, as he was close to finish a full combo. He mimicked your voice in mockery, "wHeN's tHe tReeHoUse goNa be MaDe?" You huffed, messing up his full combo by tapping his screen, and he groaned, "What the hell!!" He put down his tablet, glaring at you.
"It's gonna be made soon." You blinked and looked up, "Before your birthday?" He shrugged, "I don't really know. But it's about to be finished." He sighed, "Don't tell my mother, but, I really love the treehouse. I want to play-"
He gulped hard
"With you."
Your heart thudded rapidly, looking at him. The previous time he said it, it was for himself. But now, in his story, you were there. You were included.
"Me? What made you say that?" His cheeks became flushed red, trying to assemble words even he didn't know. "It's just- that- we- uh...." you both remained heated up, because of the vulnerable words spoken to you. You both remained silent the entire evening, because vulnerability is a weapon even adults can't wield.
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It was his birthday morning, and you were ready to say a huge "Happy Birthday!" to Gojo, gift him something you brought with your own pocket money. Finger-electric gloves, aka gloves that would help him tap more efficiently. These gloves protected the finger pads as well as make tapping more easier, more smoother. You could see how at times his fingers twitched out of pain in between sliders and how he sometimes missed those flicks. You saw professional rhythm gamers play it, might as well buy it.
You had it hidden from your mother, the purchase and everything. For her, it was useless, but between you and him, it was something greatly valuable. Something that cemented something beautiful. It was your first month friendship anniversary and first Birthday celebration with him. You wished to celebrate with him today.
Such mornings are always so warm, filling with joy. Chimneys ablaze, the smell of sweet treats and happiness. Yet, as you woke up, you felt, a dark husk fill your being. It was darker, heavier than usual, as if you were trapped and the oxygen was snatched away.
You walked, footsteps slow. And maybe you shouldn't have woken up. Maybe you shouldn't have walked out your room. Because as you entered in, you saw a sight that was making the liquids in your chambers flow out.
Both the mothers were seated, with their arms crossed, as the wicked witches of the west and east. Faces uglily curled up into one of, if not, the most evilest faces you have seen. It's as if their face was all green, with barely restrained anger. You walked up, slower than ever, to see Gojo.
And oh, oh my god. He looked like he was chained up, trapped in by his mother. His sky blue eyes had turned gray. He looked hollow. The blue bruise on his cheek was growing like a nasty fungus. And in front was his tablet, his safe space, all broken up, shards all over on the table.
"Gojo-" a slap across your cheek, so loud it bleeded your nose out. "Did you see your grades?" You blinked, your grades? You wouldn't get your grades until the end of December. How did your mother had access to that?
"Shame on you fucking brat! Not only did you dragged yourself down, you dragged a brilliant child like him down as well!" She looked just like a monster.
And you know why she was blaming you. Because more than she needed you, she needed Mrs Gojo, to cement her place in the elite society. And right now, Mrs Gojo was looking ethereal, all dolled up, with the most vilest glare you have seen.
"Yes darling. My Gojo would never download such distracting things, and that too, such a girl's game. He is obsessed with cars and planets, not.....band girls." Gojo’s head was still down, looking at his fists. He was trembling, about to cry.
At the end of the day, you were both kids. And you looked at him, for help, for anything, to assure that the breathless laughs, shared groans, secrets and so called "training" meant something. But he was afraid, because he was a golden bird under a silver cage.
And you scoffed, tears falling down, "Gojo, say something!" You tightened your fists, and your mother again slapped you, "Don't speak to him like that." She spoke with gritted teeth.
The silent tap of Mrs Gojo fingernails made the room silent. "Hmm...." she looked at you, analysing you out limb by limb. "She got a A- at maths, right?" Your mother nodded, "Y-yeah! She did."
And Mrs Gojo, ever taking the form of devil in disguise, hugged Gojo, and Gojo's eyes widened in shock, "I am sorry m'love. It seems like it's a misjudgement by me."
And Gojo, manipulated by his mother, tears of relief fell down, pearl by pearl. And all fingers came upon you.
"I am sorry darling, but because of the actions of your daughter and the unneeded beating I gave him on his birthday because of her, I can't allow you to the Golden ball." She said, so honeyed and sugary, but all laid within in was bitterness.
Your mother's eyes widened, bloodshot red, glancing at you. You weren't dettered by that, as she went to beg and plead with her, excuses, apologies flying out her mouth. In this play, they painted you green and made you the villan.
What detterred you was Gojo's angry glare at you, that shook you. Cerulean eyes that always showed amusement, happiness, laughter, cries and frustration now showed pure hatred. Lips that spoke with you, teased you, made you feel more than your academics, played, guided you now quirked up a mean frown.
Crack!
Your heart began to crack into shards of blood, all echoing his name. You could take your mother's wrath, but you could never take the frown of someone who was so dear, so precious to you.
You blamed yourself. It's all your fault. It's you fault he was in pain, that he got the slap, that his tablet was broken, that the game he saw as a silent escape now became his biggest nightmare.
"I-i am sorry, Satoru-" Mrs Gojo stepped forward in front of her son, "You don't deserve to touch him." As if she was shielding him from the ugly villan that was you.
And that was the end of the dreams you were going to have with him. The end of the treehouse you both anticipated, the fun, the games, it was just as shattered as your friendship. The gloves were never gifted, and you never got a full combo.
Your mother got more stern, more snappy and the guilt in your heart turned like a shadow fairy, always ready to stab you in the middle of your nights, where you looked up, yearning for the treehouse and his blue eyes, yearning for him, to play games, to show him the full combos you were going to do together.
And years had passed away since he went to another part, while you were stuck the same, except you got worse, more hesitant to share your interests, your words, your opinion because if you open up, you would be shattered by the hurt you gave to him, to yourself.
And you were now in one of the most prestigious colleges. Not only was the campus vast, the people seemed sophisticated, and it had an air of elitism even you could sniff.
And as fate loves to laugh at your mockery, the first day in college was a disaster, literally. Not only did you miss the bus, you had to come in a filled class, saying an awkward "May I come in?" who stared back at you like you were a cockroach from their basement. And obviously the strict professor didn't let you in, they sent you out.
So here you were, roaming the hallways of the college as if it was a maze. You came into a small corner, and saw the same dazzling eyes that haunted your soul, except, the owner of those eyes was busy making out with a girl, who was the pinnacle of a diva. You froze, after all those years, your first impression of him was him diving his tongue left, right and center with a girl. You stayed frozen, blinking back shock. "Gojo?" You said his name in familiarity. He was too engrossed in the girl, that the poor girl had to tap him out, "Look's like someone knows you." She giggled and smiled at you sweetly. You smiled back awkwardly.
Gojo groaned out of the kiss, adjusting his pants and wiped the lipgloss of his lips. He looked at you and scanned you up and down. "And who even are you?" He said it not even out of mockery, but because he truly didn't know who you were, and maybe his mockery would have hurt less than whatever this curdling of embarrassment was.
The girl stepped foward, applying her lipgloss, "Are you one of his admirers? I am sorry sweetie he can be harsh." You shook your head, "Uh I-" Gojo scoffed, "Those admirers are ugly as hell, not even joking, I look at them and feel utter disgust, how can they think I have a chance with them when I have a pretty thing like you right in front of me" He grinned and she giggled, looking at each other with so much hunger.
"Remember me?" You asked awkwardly. Of course he didn't. He laughed, "Yeah no, sorry, I am clearly busy, can't you see?" You sighed and uttered your name.
And as of cue, he pushed her aside, looking at you, at your eyes, at your skin, your face, your hair. You had changed. Definitely. Was he that much of an idiot to recognise those dreamy eyes that haunted him as well? He gazed at you, in regret, in guilt and in sadness.
"Ahah, sorry, i-" he gulped hard, he felt regret in his soul. But how could he recognise you? The you from before, who used to tease him, play alongside him, now looked so dull, as if the colour from your soul was drained out. How can he recognise the same twinkle and sparkle when it has nothing of that?
You nodded awkwardly, already trying to escape, "Yeah, uh, I just bumped into you, because I was uh, just roaming. Nice meeting you both, enjoy yourselves!" You marched out. Your anxiety ate you, muttering how they were laughing at you, when in fact, Gojo was clenching and unclenching his fist, regret pooling his body, anger upon himself. He had so much to say, and no time to give.
The kiss scenes repeated in your head. You aren't a dumbass, you know love and what not, you had a few crushes and all, but that's it. You were a utter loser in terms of love, not in other cases of course. Why were you repeating a kiss scene? Maybe it was the fact you never had a love life, nid, nada, nothing. You sighed and walked ahead to your next class, not letting your brain fry up.
Gojo was roaming corridors over corridors, trying to catch a glimpse of your name on the bulletin boards. He was desperate, yearning, to catch a glimpse, to catch a flick of hair from you. He missed you, he missed your laughter, the girl that's never out of his mind.
He still remembered that day like it was yesterday. His 10th birthday, when his tablet was shattered and you both were torn apart. At first rounds, he felt anger at you, because he was put into coils of torture by his mother.
But as he grew up, matured, learned to read his environment by being in those elite parties, he realised, one single night, that it was never your fault, and neither was his. You both were kids, trying to salvage through your parents.
Except he was a coward, and you clearly were someone who was brave, taking all the blame, the hits from your mother. And all he could do was watch, watch as his mother killed two birds with one stone, one being not letting your mother come in elite society and the other being the most tragic one, where her goal was to outcast you.
While he looked down, cowering in fear, you were upright, asking him what had happened, trying to find reason. And then the ugly glare he gave you, the silence he gave you rang the loudest in his lungs. The devastation in your face, as you looked at him as he broke his heart, still strikes him with a thousand needles
And as a petty revenge for his mother, knowing she needs him more than he does, he rebelled. He slept around, partied all night, yet never gave her a reason to strike, as he brought all the shining A+'s on his report card.
And now here he was, chasing a ghost of you. It's probably your first day, yet he acted rudely, harshly because of his own stupidity. Why does he always mess up with you? Why does he always hurt you, again and again? He doesn't want to, you are the funniest, sweetest and nicest girl he has ever met, and yet, all he does is pierce your soul.
This was another experience that was going to haunt him. Shit, he hates himself. Can't he just be a nice person for once? He really thought he changed, well, he jumped too far and drowned yet again.
He reached at the same time you did, clinging onto the door frame like his life depended on it. He trembled, looking at your form, glitching beside him.
"Ah- uh- sorry!" You tried to walk out, until he blocked your path. "Sorry for earlier, I do know you, fuck- I do." He was near out panicking, trying to get in tune with your startled eyes.
"Ah- no worries! I must have been mistaken" you awkwardly tried to walk back, seeing the accumulation of people gathering in, looking at you, and you hated so many eyes, makes your paranoia heighten up.
He has changed, that's for sure. Gone were the cerulean spring blues, replaced with the disco dazzling seas. His lips had gotten plumpier, his chubby cheeks had gotten more slender, turning into a sleek jawline, and his fluffy hair seemed to be more stylish. And his fashion sense really evolved, considering he always wore flannels and those bowties.
And Gojo, he almost melted seeing you. How could he not recognise you? You haven't changed much in appearance. Had he gotten stupid? You had the same tantalising lips, the same eyes that focused on a full combo, and the same nervous habits you had when you waited for him to finish up a hard song. And the Tsugumi's keychain, it was so you, he softened like a mush for you.
"So-"
"Mr Gojo, and new student, class time is up. Are you ready to participate in music class?" A stern voice snapped both of you out of the trance.
You both blinked up. Music class? You both didn't had a flick of knowledge in music. Maybe you both didn't change, considering that you both idiots landed on the same wrong class.
"So uh, I guess we signed up for the same class. Coincidence?" You awkwardly tried to start a conversation and he nodded back awkwardly. He had gotten better, he thought he did. He really thought he broke out of his shell, got more confident, but the presence of yours made him curl back to a loop of guilt and pain in his heart.
"Yeah, total coincidence." He answered back, as the silence got more bigger. "Y-yeah. You always loved music, right?" You did a finger gun at him. You knew he didn't liked to that much, and he also knew you weren't that much big of a fan of music, considering you still were holed up kids.
"Uh yeah, aye aye, hands in the air?" He said, tapping a beat on the bench. You did a small air fist, trying to match up his taps, "Hands in the air, hair swaying, we don't care?" You both looked at each other, and as if no time has passed, you both did the ugliest snorts, pulling the whole class's attention.
"Mr Gojo, do you have anything to share to the class?" He rolled up the textbook, patting it on his palm. You covered your mouth, head down on the bench, while he tried to stifle his giggles.
"N-no sir. We were- hah- making a sensational beat, worldwide Pitbull style." You couldn't help but put a hand on your stomach, trying not to let the laughter bubble out. It reminded you of the better times, when you both were innocent kids. The class went into giggles, looking at Gojo, the effortless man, the shining star.
The teacher's silent glare meant trouble, because it silenced the whole class, "Oh yeah? Well, sing it then." The teacher said, his vein of his jaw about to pop off, and you immediately said,"Sir, he- we- I was just asking him about the weather, and he said it's a dusty weather, and since we both have the dust allergy, we both sneezed, in front of each other's faces." Everyone went into a disgusted face, looking at you both in "Ew wtf" expression.
Well, this was better than telling the whole class the most awkward lyrics you sang. "Yeah, dust allergy! Achoo!!" Gojo did a fake sneeze, still giggling in between. "Yeah achoo!" You faked as well, copying him. "Well- uh...carry on." The teacher grumbled, chalking down some notes. You both fell in the same ease you did back then.
"So, darling, dust allergy, really?" You giggled, "M-maybe people who dislike you would roll themselves in dust?" He chuckled, doing the dramatic hair flip he always did since he was ten, "Well, sweetheart, all my haters are non existent. The only dust they rolling in is their grave." You both stared at each other, again trying to stifle your laughs, the light-heartedness of the atmosphere winding you up in a headspace you both felt safe.
"Well, we are at class, we should learn something, right?" You nudged his shoulder, and his smile got all dopey, "Now that you say it, we should." You giggled, looking at the front while he looked at you. "The board is at the front mister, not here." He paused, as you caught him staring, "Yeah, well, there is a booger in your eye." He tried to hide his strawberry cheeks from you, looking at the other side. You blinked, scrambling to wipe the bogger at the corner of your eyes.
"So, new student and Mr Gojo, want to take a try at the instruments?" You both perked up, looking at each other. "Do you know any songs?" You whispered. He shook back, "Baby, I don't even know how to fucking toot a horn." You both realised, you were both screwed.
"Maybe the piano? A song that is common to you both" The teacher said, as if he was saving you both. You awkwardly looked at each other. "Should we play mozart?" He blinked, then looked at the piano and looked at you, "I don't even know how to play Mozart on a triangle."
The teacher's clear cut cough sent you both to the edge, "It seems that you both don't know. How do I know? Because your emotions have a rhythm in it, and right now it's playing the beat of panic." You both looked at each other, in a glance of "What is he talking about?"
"And as your dedicated teacher, I give you both a month to play a song right in front of all of us. Be prepared." The bell rang, right on cue, as if he was the master of beats, and you both looked at each other, "So- what are we gonna do?" You asked, packing your things up. "I don't know, maybe practice?" You both sighed in tiredness, looking at the calendar, asking him in anxiety, "Should we brainstorm right here?" His ears perked up, "You have a plan?"
Your thumbs twiddled, "Nevermind, that is stupid." He urged you, holding your gaze up, "Why? Is it bad?" He could see the nervousness in your veins, thrumming up and down. Well, there was music in your veins, and maybe he was the only one who could see it. "Nevermind!" You pushed him, all embarrassed, walking off.
"Shit, she really does hate me." He scratched his neck. Maybe you wanted to say curse words, beat him up, tell him off. He was being too forward anyways, thinking that just because you laughed at his pathetic jokes, you both were okay. Him and his stupidity really makes it harder for him to survive in the storm of guilt, isn't it?
But also, he only made jokes just to make you laugh, because real laughter only comes when he is with you, laughing in the most silliest of things. He doesn't had to pretend to smile when he was with you, and maybe, he needed you for him to be happy in this world.
In your next class, as you sat down, you saw the crowd of students. "Hey! Psst!" Everyone gathered around that one annoying dude, ya know, the one who thinks he knows it all, "So we all know the frat right? The sorority right?" Everyone looked at each other with a bored face, you all were already tired, why was he delaying time?
"So the frat consists of the most hottest dudes there are, with the most highest grades in either academics, sports or arts, and the sorority, it is the same like frats." You perked up, Gojo looked like he would be in the frat, considering his high grades, even when he was little.
The annoying guy might have been right in some way, because when you were about to go into lunch break, a group of people came forward, all smelling like richness and their laughter eluding dollars itself. There were the prettiest girls you know who smelt like a Victoria Secret runaway, and the guys looked like they were from an otome game. Everyone had their quirks, their own unique styles, which piqued your interest.
What really caught you off guard was Satoru himself, standing there along with the same girl you saw him making out with. She was whispering in his ear, too close to your liking. He looked so different, so much more confident, sleazy. But as the music sir said, you could see the coil of fakeness around him, disrupting his real music. He walked forward, clapping her hands, making everyone shut down fast, "Listen here freshers. On Friday night, we have organised a freshers party, from our own money, just for you guys. Everyone should deserve a warm welcome, we have to stay together in all this." He smiled and walked off, the entire group of senior students following him, as he was in a whole different world. The girl was curled upon his arm, making you flinch up in an ugly feeling.
Of course, he only pitied you. You who was his childhood friend, or enemy? Whatever you were to him, he only laughed with you, talked with you because he was sociable, fun and nice. And maybe, the fakeness you see around others, maybe it's extending to you?
But you were desperate, desperate for his validation. Did he really forgive you? Does he hate you? You wanted to get a signal, that he didn't see you as an enemy. But maybe easing with him in laughters was enough to feed you, because the starving can also accept crumbs, because for them, food is their base for survival, and for you it was Gojo.
"See, because of me, they came to give us a party." The annoying guy smirked looking at everyone. They did it out of goodwill, to pick out people who they think might fit in their circle, and not because of him. But who was he to understand, when all he was doing is blowing his own horn.
He massaged his temples as he saw the budget, "Shit, this is too grandeur, it's going out our budget." The men patted his back, "Aye Gojo! It's okay, just sweet talk those teachers, they can give us the money." He didn't like begging someone, made him feel.....feel unmasculine.
How long had he fought for the fact that he should feel more masculine in his skin, in his body, but all he felt was insecurity, as he looked at himself in the mirror every night. He still felt unworthy of the man he was.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The party, was nothing like you seen before, like ever. It was what those Lady Gaga songs described adult party life. The lights were gleamimg everywhere, the music booming through the floor, the smell of beer, weed and vape was clogging your nostrils along with the obnoxious amount of perfume and scented candles.
Beer pong, skinny dipping, makeout sessions left and right, someone was fucking upstairs, it was overstimulating. You sat on the corner of the room, regulating your nerves, from the noise and music. Your friends were out dancing, while you were here alone.
Then came the frat squad, and the party stilled. Then came Satoru, best dressed with his obnoxious shirt and pants. He stepped in, making the room look at him and only him. He was magnetising, alluring, making everyone fall over their feet. You couldn't keep your eyes off him. Of course, he had become the dazzling star while you had stayed the same. Maybe that's why he was making out with that girl? He claps, "Let the party continue peeps!!" He smiled and went to chatting with the squad.
The music raved up, and everyone was dancing, the beat was climbing up, and the floor was shaking. You tried to blend in, cup in hand, looking at the crowd.
Gojo seemed to be engrossed, in the crowd beside him, music in his ears, beer in his hand. He definitely had changed, and you no longer belonged in his world.
He would he fine, without you, right? You would leave the party and he wouldn't notice you at all. He had a different world, and now, you both weren't nerds fitting in, just people who used to know each other strung in nostalgia.
You couldn't see his smile as he partied, couldn't handle it. Because all you wanted was for him to get detached from this fake world, stop those fake smiles, and laugh with you. He still hadn't taught you the full combo, and maybe, something was beyond what you felt. Maybe you felt something, and you hated it.
You walked in the balcony, as quiet as a mouse, but Gojo noticed. How couldn't he? He has memorized your actions, and even if he was in other room, his hawk like eyes would always search you up in a sea of people. He always did, you, the twinkling star of his mind. He pushed through the crowd.
"Aye Gojo! Nice party!" One yelled, he didn't care.
"Gojo, are you free tonight? Maybe we can try something?"
He didn't care.
"Gojo, more drinks please."
Get them yourself for fuck's sake.
"Gojo, the party is lit, can you write my resume for frat?"
Oh yeah, like he was a free writer for you.
"Gojo, you truly are the man!"
How was he, when was still the same cowering kid from that day? Who couldn't even hold the fact that he was playing a girly game? That he distracted himself with parties and drinks?
He was tired, tired of everyone. Tired of living in a life that wasn't made for him. He wanted to be with you, curled up, laughing at stupid things, playing the rhythm game, teaching you, teasing you.
"What's on your mind?" He looked up at the sky, breath heaving, and you flinched. You sighed, "It's just- new people, new college and all" He looked at you, his dazzling eyes sparkling. "You have a group of people, and I barely know anyone." You tapped the railing of the balcony, a nervous habit you developed.
He sighed, "Yeah, college. You know the game we played?"
The ease quickly became unease as you both remembered the shattered memories with the game. The girlish glitter wonder that you both don't speak of
"Yeah, what about that?" The shards of the broken tablet still haunted you, making your soul again crunch up in pain.
He said softly, "You know, you liked that character, Tsugumi. I remember how she sacrified herself again and again for her friends, to a point she fainted in the hospital. Honestly, I can see why you like her. Because you are like her."
He walked towards you, "You are strong, steady, the glue that sticks. You are always ready to help, sacrificing yourself. You are everything, yet you are overlooked. But when the right people come, they click to you so much, you stay stuck to them." He cupped your heated cheeks, looking at you, tilting his head.
You looked at him, your being trembling. He still remembered the character you liked. Well, you remebered his as well. You rested your cheek on his hand, making his palm flush up.
"You like Tae, right? A cool guitarist, who only like bunnies. Did you know, that I checked the game after a few years? Apparently, she was made as a temporary guitarist into a new group, but she couldn't keep up, with their music, their beats. So she faked it, until one day, her eyes became so bleek and grey, all her passion was gone."
"You remind me of her, how you push yourself for other people. You shouldn't, because you shine on your own. Just because your potential shines beyond your capacity doesn't mean you should force yourself into a zone you don't care. I could see your greyness as I saw you arrange another party for the frat."
The room went still, and you both went into a stilling silence. You both knew each other, even after 10 years, characteristics that you both didn't see in oneself. "So, should I give up frat?" You said softly, "I am saying, you should give up things that is out of your comfort zone." He smiled sadly, "I would try to, just for you, disciple." Your heart bloomed at the old nickname, looking at him. "And you, you better give up being all sacrificing, disciple." He smiled, poking your nose, making it scrunch up. You both fell into a comfortable silence.
Wait.
Did you both just confess?
You both flushed up, looking the other side.
"Look at us, going on this nerdy tangent!" You nodded, trying to cool down your heated cheeks, "Y-yeah! We did, silly us!" He nodded back, "Y-yeah! We don't even play the game anymore!" He quirked up, gulping hard.
"We can still play- at the treehouse y'know? Do some songs, though, I don't remember."
"Me too! I-i-t would be great for....uh our piano practice!"
Shit, he completely forgot about it. But oh well, it seemed great excuse for him to show his treehouse, the house that you both never got to play in.
He offered you his phone, "O-o-only for special VIPs only." You shyly took it, holding it up, "Really? For me? Ah- how merciful of Lord Satoru." He smiled, "Take my phone number. I will arrange our outing, okay?" You smiled, holding it in, "You really are the same kind Satoru, aren't you?" With the roll of his name on your tongue, he flinched, "Satoru, huh? I like it." You heatednup, pushing him and running off in a hurry, "S-see ya!"
Shit, you both forgot to ask if it was a date or not, considering the intimacy of it.
"We are only two people, maybe it's a date!"
"They don't see me as that way, maybe it's just a bonding session?"
"Urgh, what should I tell them?"
Those thoughts clouded both your minds, until it stuck to you both like sticky tape. And now, you were waiting for him after college, in an outfit you didn't think you would wear. "H-hey!" You waved up, and he flinched, looking at you.
He would faint right on the spot just by your sheer beauty. He grabbed the fabric around his chest, the thudding of his heart getting so loud he could feel it. He didn't want you to hear his thoughts, his feelings that were growing ever so strong because he didn't deserve you, deserve your kindness.
But at the same time, he was a selfish man. And a selfish man doesn't think twice about his actions.
He rushed towards you, as if you would fade if he would come any slower. He reached you, heart palpitating, sweat across his forehead. "Hey." You smiled, "Hey." You both looked at each other in awkwardness. He loved your lips, and you loved his. He wanted to smear that pathetic attempt of a gloss across your lips, taste your tongue fully.
"So- the treehouse?" He snapped back, looking at you, "The treehouse, right, right." He walked behind you, seeing your skirt flow through the wind. You looked like a goddess, and well, he was your humble disciple, some things do change, don't they?
"M'lady" he opened the door for you, bowing down so you couldn't see the flush of his cheeks. You entered in, with a small bow, and sat inside. He sat inside, and muttered in his head, the digits of pi to distract himself from you.
You looked at him, at the same boy that changed your life, that has stamped himself in your life like a stubborn sticker. And you, well, you always liked to keep the things as it is, so you let the sticker of his memories stay.
And he glanced back at you, the girl who haunted his dreams, who made him drown in the pool of guilt, and also made him dream of a life with him. He would apologise for the sins he did until the day he perishes, and even if afterlife exists, he would always be in debt of you.
You both didn't even realise, that in the clouds of thoughts of each other, you reached the destination. "Fuck- sorry." You put your hair behind your ear, "I-its okay. Happens to the best of us." And he stopped the car, right beside a dusty, blue treehouse.
"What did you do up there?" He shrugged, "Nothing, when my player 2 wasn't beside me, what am I supposed to do?" You blinked and looked up, "You mean-" he nodded, "Yeah, I know. I never had the courage to play here, because regrets just kept piling up."
He opened the gates, the atmosphere turning silent. "You know, I always regretted that I never defended you." He put his hands in his pockets, "That because of my own cowardice, I ruined something beautiful."
He chuckled, "But also to those bitches, aka our mothers." You blinked, "They aren't wrong. Maybe I was distracting you."
He paused, looking at you, "You already distract me with your looks, your smile, your laughter. It's on me that I am distracted." He walked towards you, cupping your cheeks, "Never blame yourself, for the things that were somebody's fault. We were kids, we didn't know shit. Fuck, I nearly tear up when I remember the slaps given by your mother."
He cupped them more tightly, "And it's never your fault, that we wanted an escape, so we played a game. That my bitch of a mother manipulated us all." He released your cheeks, "She is definitely ending up in retirement home, that's for sure."
"Climb first sweetie." He offered you the space, and you bunched up your dress, climbing up. He climbed back, in case if you injured yourself, looking at you in protectiveness.
You entered in, and it looked as if you were in a prism, looking at the various untouched furniture, paintings, and the various gacha cards.
"That's so-" he smiled, "Yeah, everything we dreamt of." You gulped hard, "I have something to give you!"
He admired the bravery you had at times, even through your shyness in expressing yourself. You pushed the plastic packet to him, "These gloves?" You nodded, "Yeah, they are used by those players." He smiled sadly, "It looks old. Fuck, I could have gotten this for my birthday instead of a beating." You frowned, "What-" he chuckled, "Relax, all water under the bridge."
You sighed, "You shouldn't joke like that." He shrugged, "I know, but it's what I call dark humour." You raised an eyebrow, "Dark humour? Sounds.......dark." he chuckled hard, free and happy, "Oh my god. You are so funny."
You flushed, looking down, "S-shut it." He pinched your cheek, moving the hair from your face, so close you thought he was going to kiss, so intimate your body was tingling.
"Wanna play one last round?"
He drew back, flush all over his body, heating up in nervousness. He brought out the ipad. "Only one?" He shrugged, "We can share, I can check your skills, disciple." He poked your nose, and you giggled up, looking at him shyly.
He opened the game, and both your eyes widened, "It changed, didn't it?" He nodded, "Yeah, it did. It does feel sad, but it got more polished, and oh-?" You looked at the number of bands and your eyes widened, "Five more bands?" He chuckled, "Expansion I suppose."
The graphics were more wonky for you both, as it ate up more internet. Yet, you both didn't care, because finally, the dream of playing beside each other was fulfilled.
The screen loaded up, and your bodies were so merged with each other, you could simply feel each other sweating.
"You do one lane, I will do the other." You gulped, adjusting the speed and going on easy.
Your fingers tingled, and then as the rapid notes came, you....yeah you both didn't do good, as both of you bumped fingers, accidentally tapped the wrong lane and missed notes.
"Should we try again?" You gulped, "Maybe we should aggregrate up the speed?" He blinked, adjusting the speed, "Is 6.7 good?" You shook your head, "Too slow, maybe 8.9 would be nice."
You switched speeds, left and right, index fingers bumping, making both of you scurry and get nervous.
"Should we practice co-ordination?" You nodded, "Yeah, let's do a practice live." You both started practicing. Gojo's fingers were swift, smooth and glided effortlessly in muscle memory, while you tapped gracefully, elegantly on each note.The goods became greats, and then the greats became perfect. Gojo's face was gleaming with the same twinkle he had in childhood, while yours was glittering with happiness.
Now it was practice of hold notes. You both looked at each other, observing each other fingers like the lovers you were, and tapped the two hold notes with such perfect precision, that you both gasped when you got it in first try.
"We did it!" You both looked at each other, at the first full combo you did together. "Maybe we can do good at the piano practice as well?" He shrugged, "Nah, I am pulling up with this." You chuckled, looking at him, "Are you sure? It can be embarrassing."
He shrugged, "It was embarrassing for my mother to know that I ever played the game. She thought it was girly, but honestly, as I grew up, I didn't really care about the glitters and pinks, because all I saw was the gaming that made me happy. My mother really thought that was "unmanly" of me. Guess who is getting all her property? Me, the unmanly man."
He sniffled, "Yet I took her words to heart, how pathetic I am. I started chasing a version of me. Instead of rebelling against her, I became the kind of filthy man even I am ashamed of."
You patted his shoulder, as you saw the glimmers in his eyelids. "I know, we-" he completed for you, sniffling, "Suffered a lot. Yet, we both are the same people, no matter what. Yet, those mistakes don't diminish. My guilt won't diminish."
You held his hand, "I- Satoru- please, I thought I was the wrong one-" He grunted out, swiping your tears harshly, "OF course you did! Because you are that nice!" You said in tears, screamimg outright, "No, because I thought the hurt you got was because of me" You both calmed down, looking at each other. Then he laughed manically, "Fuck, it wasn't. It really wasn't. Fuck both our mothers for messing us up, for making us believe it was our fault. When we were just kids, when we did nothing wrong. When all the weight of the world was upon our grades, how messed up is that."
You both put the tablet down in sync, tears falling down on both your eyelids, "Why are you crying?" You asked, sniffling, and he replied, tasting the tears falling down your cheeks with his tongue, kissing your eyelids as more tears fell down, curling you into a bear hug, "Because fuck- I am cursing, i am sorry, i am sorry to the kid you who stayed strong, who defended me, who grabbed my arm when we first met."
You shook your head, "S-stop it. Before you, I was a husk of a person. Then, my being brightened up. I started paying attention on becoming better. You make me want to be better in things I neved did."
He rested his chin on your shoulder, kissing it, trembling, "Stay with me forever, never leave me ever again." You both stayed in the hug, tightly, kissing each other tears, touching everywhere, trying to memorise each other scents and body.
As two broken people mended together, into two pieces of a heart, as two stones of a crown, sniffling as the night came in, enveloping you both in a darkness which you didn't fear anymore, because you had each other now, and maybe that was enough.