Chapter Text
Yuuji blinks in some confusion, as if unsure if it's a good idea to accept or if he's actually able to move beyond where his legs feel steady. But there's something in the woman's expression—a mix of politeness and urgency—that convinces him.
"Can we go with her? Please, Please?" he asks almost in a whisper, turning his face toward Megumi. He searches for any trace of doubt that will allow him to satisfy his curiosity with puppy eyes and the reluctance Fushiguro almost always has with him.
Fushiguro doesn't answer right away, but he loosens the tension on his arm and nods. "Okay. Can you walk?" The answer restores any trace of joy to Yuuji's face, so he gives the woman a quick glance as they both nod with different expressions.
Megumi quickly circles Yuuji's hips when he tries to move, still unsure whether to let go and walk independently. They both follow the woman at a slow pace, the alpha leaning closer to his friend's ear so he can whisper. "If he gets weird, I won't hesitate to smash his fucking face in."
Suddenly, Yuuji's comment reminded him of his older brother, and he glances at his best friend, who is wearing his usual stoic expression. He can't help but laugh as they cross the metal threshold with a curtain separating the audience from the internal staff area.
Everything is moving around them, making them dizzy without hesitation. Assistants run back and forth, lights flash in intermittent tones, and the echoes of the music continue to pound their ears.
When they reach a far corner of the backstage area, one of the production crew members offers the omega a chair, and Yuuji doesn't hesitate to plop down on it, with a barely audible sigh.
"Here." Megumi pulls a water bottle from her backpack, opens it, and offers it to Yuuji, who smiles, barely holding her gaze before starting to hydrate. Then, with his free hand, he leans toward him. "Are you burning up?"
The alpha asks, placing his fingers just below the omega's jaw, measuring his body heat precisely. His tone isn't cold, but carefully measured. He can feel the patch brushing against his knuckles nearby; he must concentrate on feeling the heat emanating from Yuuji.
The omega gently shakes his head, taking a sip of water. He also decides to measure his temperature, placing the back of his hand on his own forehead. The pain from the mark gradually fades. "No. It just made me a little dizzy. The smell... it's so strong."
"You and your sensitive nose," Megumi jokes when he sees his best friend wrinkle his nose, indicating that the scent still lingers, even though it's not noticeable to him as an alpha; his gaze remains alert.
The din suddenly increases. Louder shouts, euphoric shrieks, and the sound of hurried footsteps announce the arrival of the band finishing the first section of their set at the festival that afternoon.
Satoru Gojo enters laughing, disheveled and looking damn good in the clothes he's wearing
—the car mechanic-style clothes– paired with a blue T-shirt that matches his eyes, make him look damn good, and it stirs something inside Yuuji, just like the first time.
The white-haired alpha arrives with one of his bandmates. One of them says something that elicits a boisterous laugh from Satoru.
But mid-joke, the alpha is interrupted by his manager. Miwa calls his attention so she can speak to him close to his ear, and they both cast a heavy glance toward the corner where Yuuji and Fushiguro find solace amidst all the mess.
Gojo can feel the itch in his hands, and his reasoning is clouded for a moment as he feels the other alpha's hands on the omega he had yearned for until that moment.
With stealthy steps, he gets close enough to both of them. Satoru doesn't apologize. He doesn't consider it necessary. He simply reaches out, squeezing Fushiguro's shoulder hard enough to make the message clear: step aside.
"Am I interrupting something? I'm short on time." Satoru's voice breaks the bubble Yuuji and Fushiguro were trapped in. The dark-haired alpha can't help but step to the side when he feels the other alpha's touch, giving a distraught look to the idol who is now standing between him and Yuuji.
The world stops for Gojo when he meets those wide, bright, and surprised eyes without hesitation. He smiles softly when he sees the omega's pupils expand when they meet his gaze.
The black-haired alpha discreetly breaks the bubble, coughing loudly enough to distract Yuuji and forcing the omega to look away in embarrassment as he clutches the water bottle in his hands and feels his cheeks flush furiously red.
Satoru, for his part, bites the inside of his cheek hard to contain any reaction that might show his annoyance at having his omega's friend interrupt their encounter. Once he's controlled his annoyance, he gives the omega a soft look while carefully extending his hand. "I've been looking for you this whole time, Itadori-kun. I remember you as the boy from the flower shop."
Miwa, who is orbiting the trio, can't help but express surprise when she hears the softness of Satoru's words to the omega, and especially the restraint of his annoying personality when the alpha accompanied Itadori.
Yuuji shakes his head as he extends his own hand to try to respond to Satoru's offered handshake, but his skin prickles when the alpha's velvety lips kiss the back of his hand. "I-it's a pleasure, Gojo-san... I didn't know I'd remember that."
"I couldn't ever forget someone like you..." Gojo can't even stop smiling; it's the first time in so long that his cheeks ache from a real smile. Every time he sees the omega's face, it's as if small sparkles and shimmers emanate from it, as does his pleasant scent, though much less so than the last time they met. "I'm glad you agreed to see me. I really couldn't stop thinking about you since I felt... well... "
Yuuji holds his breath longer than necessary when the alpha removes the bandana that was part of his presentation outfit, revealing behind his hair a mark identical to the one Yuuta also had. A thin line on his forehead, almost the same color as Satoru's pale skin. "Feeling like this."
As the scar is revealed, it's clearly healed after so much time, Yuuji lets out a small gasp of pain as a sharp sting appears in the mark under his right eye. Fushiguro, who had been silent until now, must push Gojo with his body to once again support Yuuji's face, noticing that the mark is slightly redder than before.
Satoru, completely confused and lost in the disastrous situation that quickly unfolded before his eyes, waits for the black-haired alpha to explain what's going on this time. Miwa, though worried, must push Gojo enough to warn him that the performance must continue; several of his group members hold him by the shoulders while asking what's going on.
Gojo remains silent, his brow furrowed as he is led by several costume designers, sound crew, and makeup artists before going up on stage. His whole world remains silent, and he desperately searches for the omega he's lost amid all the movement.
Kento has to punch him hard in the ribs so Satoru can react. It works as effectively as always, leaning close to his partner's ear to whisper, «Focus, he'll be there when you get back.» It's so simple and concise that everything comes back to haunt Satoru.
He takes the microphone his partner extends to him for one last look back, barely noticing the pink hair that stands out among the crowd. He takes the stage in a few bounds, the lights still off, and feels his body vibrate at the crowd's shouts acclaiming his name.
The roar of the crowd rose again like a tide as Satoru Gojo returned to the stage, now accompanied by brighter lights and a renewed energy that electrified the air. The notes of his song began to ring out loud, and Satoru's voice, steady and full of emotion, intertwined with the harmonies of the rest of the group. The audience shouted in unison with the singers. "You could be my only star!"
Moving with grace and ease, the alpha seemed to shine with every step. However, even from afar, it was clear that his gaze was searching for something in the lights, beyond the audience… or perhaps for someone.
"He's acting different," Megumi murmured, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the stage, rolling her eyes, suddenly remembering her daily life at home with her older sister. "That guy… Tsumiki always watches his performances, and he's definitely not like that."
Yuuji, still sitting in the chair that had been offered to him moments before, couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at Fushiguro's surprising confession and immediately smiled. "I didn't know Tsumiki onee-san was a fan... No wonder you knew who he was!"
His body remained tense, and although his face tried to show enthusiasm, the edges of his lips trembled slightly. The slight but constant ache from the marks on his cheeks kept him in a state of silent alert, as if every word of the song touched him with an almost symbolic ardor.
Fushiguro snorted softly, turning his face toward him. He watched him silently for a few seconds, then lowered his voice, making sure no one else would hear them. "Yuuji, this isn't a good idea. We should go now. Your mark keeps reacting, and you don't know why. There's no point in staying here if you're not okay."
"Meeeguuumi…" Yuuji looked up, the pink glow of the spotlights making his eyes appear larger, almost trembling. "This may be my only chance to really get to know him. To talk to him without everything being shrouded in the fantasy of a flower shop or the mystery of a distant voice. If I leave now… I don't know when I'll see him again."
Fushiguro frowned, and though he didn't respond immediately, his hands slid down to rest carefully on Yuuji's hips, making sure he didn't wobble as he shifted in the chair. With a resigned sigh, he ended up nodding, biting the inside of his cheek at the lack of will he had against his best friend.
"Okay," he said quietly, something in his voice screaming surrender. "But if you get dizzy again, if you feel the mark getting worse, or if that guy approaches you in a weird way… we're fucking out of here. I don't care if he's the most famous man in the country or if he sings with his heart in his hand. Get it?"
The threat draws a hearty laugh from Yuuji as if he doesn't know they're completely real, and he immediately thinks of Megumi's father for a moment. The omega raises his hands in surrender and nods gladly at Fushiguro's warmth.
"Get it, Toji-san," Yuuji replied with a mocking smile, tilting his head slightly to touch his forehead to his friend's shoulder. He still receives a firm pinch on his shoulder from his best friend. "Thanks, Gumi."
As Satoru faded into the lights and smoke on the stage, Yuuji swiveled slightly in his seat, enthusiastically responding to the light conversation he was having with Miwa. The light-blue-haired beta seemed genuinely entertained by Yuuji's ease of speech, and they were soon laughing together over an absurd anecdote about a bouquet of the wrong flowers and an annoying customer.
The conversation continued to flow easily, and Megumi, still Standing there, he took the opportunity to get away from the hustle and bustle. He pulled out his phone and dialed without a second thought. After a couple of rings, Nobara Kugisaki's annoyed voice erupted on the other end of the line.
“Fushiguro, damn it! I'm busy! Do you know what it means to have a free afternoon with your dear cousin after weeks?! What's going on now? Did your world come crashing down on you?”
“Could you not yell at me for five seconds?” Megumi snarled, glancing sideways at Yuuji, who was still chatting with Miwa. “This is important.”
“Of course it's important! I'm with Maki. Do you know how difficult it is to be intimate with her?”
Megumi put two fingers between his eyebrows, massaging them as if he could erase the annoyance from his head. He definitely didn't want to imagine his cousin in that mood, much less if Kugisaki was involved too.
“Listen, I'm not asking you to come here now. I just need you to be around, just in case.”
“Don't act mysterious, Fushiguro. Speak now.”
“He found out that the mysterious guy from the shop is the damn Satoru Gojo himself.”
On the other end of the line, silence fell immediately. He could almost feel Nobara stop breathing for a moment. A raucous laugh from the background could be heard clearly. Fushiguro knew what Maki's laughter was.
"Are you telling me the fucking Satoru Gojo, your girlfriend and sister's eternal crush, is Yuuji's boyfriend?"
"There was no need to clarify, and they're not even dating yet," he replied sarcastically. "Yuuji suddenly felt sick, so I'm taking care of him until he gets fed up with this guy."
"Stop being jealous of that poor charming man. Don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, Gumi."
Megumi groaned when he heard both women laughing at him on the other end of the line; he knew all too well why Kugisaki said that.
The alpha ended the call before thinking of a response that wouldn't insult his friend.
Megumi sighed and put his phone away. He turned to Yuuji, who was bursting into laughter so brilliantly that his face, still raw from the marks, looked the same as before. For a moment, the alpha allowed himself to relax. only for a moment.
On stage, Satoru sang as if every word was dedicated to someone watching him from the shadows. As if, finally, that someone were close enough to hear his voice.
The last note of the song stretched like a sigh amid the roar of the crowd, and with a final bow, Gojo and the rest of the group lowered the curtain on the night. The stage lights slowly dimmed, leaving behind a vibrant echo of applause and excited screams that still trembled off the walls of the venue. The air was thick with heat and euphoria, a mix of strobe lights, perspiration, and the sweet adrenaline of a well-executed performance.
Satoru walked offstage, breathing heavily, a smile still fresh on his face. His body was covered in a layer of sweat that gave him an extra shine under the spotlights in the backstage hallway.
One of the assistants offered him a towel, another handed him a bottle of water. Greetings, congratulations, and pats on the back followed swiftly. However, his eyes, still covered in the layer of eyeliner he wore on stage, weren't focused on any of them.
"Good job, Gojo-kun," one of the producers told him, approaching him with a tablet in hand. "The audience went crazy with the last song. The reaction online is explosive. Do you need five minutes before the closing interview?"
Satoru didn't even look at him. He walked past, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the white towel as he walked briskly down the hallway. His senses were sharp, completely focused on a single objective.
Itadori's scent was still present, trailing through the air with an unmistakable sweetness, as if every particle in the air urged him to follow it, to seek it out. And that need burned to his bones.
He turned the corner of the dressing room just as Miwa was standing there waiting for him, in a space reserved for the production crew. The beta saw him coming with a raised eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You sure know how to make an impact, huh?" he said in a light tone, but there was a spark of warning behind his words.
"Where is he? Did he leave?" Gojo asked bluntly, still panting slightly. His gaze was intense, almost anxious. His hands tightened around the towel around his neck.
Miwa let out a soft sigh and tilted her head toward the end of the aisle. Without another word, she stepped aside. Allowing the desperate alpha to pass, she followed behind him while silently signing over the intercom, requesting privacy for Satoru.
Yuuji, sitting on a padded bench next to a small table, spoke animatedly with the alpha, who remained at his side. The slight tremor in his hands and the pallor that still marked his cheeks betrayed his physical discomfort.
That alpha stood at his side, carefully observing his every movement, like a silent sentinel. But he responded with a soft gaze at anything the noticeably nervous omega might say.
Without another thought, he walked straight toward them.
Megumi was the first to notice his presence. He took a step forward, as if instinctively placing himself between the alpha and his friend. But before he could say anything, Yuuji looked up.
Time seemed to stand still.
Their gazes met.
And the world around them disappeared.
The noise, the distant voices, even the background beats of the residual music dissolved. Only the two of them remained. Satoru felt his chest tighten involuntarily, and without saying a word, he took a step closer.
"Itadori-kun…" He uttered in a deep, broken voice, as if the name had caught in his throat. It took a moment to breathe in the omega's almost imperceptible scent directly.
The omega blinked. The expression on his face was a mixture of surprise, excitement, and doubt. He sat up slowly, carefully, as if moving too quickly might break the moment.
"You can call me Yuuji, Gojo-san." Just hearing him say his name took his breath away. The omega's smile dazzled him like starlight shining directly into his face.
Gojo smiled back, awkwardly, with a vulnerability few had ever seen in him. "Your name is as beautiful as you are," he confessed almost without thinking, bringing a hand to his hair, still damp with sweat, and then quickly lowering it, as if unsure of what to do with his body.
"I thought you might leave," he clarified quickly, taking a step closer. "Your marks... are they hurting a lot?"
Yuuji raised his face so he could see the alpha's face directly; the vast difference in their heights made it so. Almost instinctively, Satoru didn't hold back from slowly caressing one of the marks under the omega's eyes, who timidly received his touch.
"A little, yes. But not as much as before." Yuuji whispers, as if his voice should be heard only by the imposing man standing before him. "Suddenly, it feels better when you arrived. That's weird, isn't it?"
Gojo swallowed. His alpha instinct screamed at him to hold him, to protect him, to envelop him and take away all the pain he had unintentionally caused. But he didn't move. Not yet. Because he knew Yuuji could change his mind at any moment, that this was as fragile as a porcelain muse.
Satoru paused for a second before approaching. He studied him. His hair was slightly ruffled, his marks reddened and tender. But even so, Yuuji radiated a warmth that Satoru couldn't ignore. It was like seeing the most vivid and painful image of something he'd desired for months. Maybe his entire life.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there before," he murmured, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm sorry I left you unknowingly. It has hurt me every day not knowing who you were. Not being able to find you. And now that you're here, in front of me, I don't know if I have the right to ask you to stay."
Silence stretched between them.
Yuuji watched him for a long time. From his position, still in the warmth of Satoru's touch, lovingly holding his face, the alpha could better appreciate those bright. Almost as bright as thousands of stars trapped in his eyes.
"I want to understand you." Yuuji composed himself so he could speak, detaching himself from the warm touch that held him. "I want to know who you really are, Gojo-san. To meet the man who bought flowers one cloudy day and changed my life forever."
Yuuji's words hung in the air like a soft, drawn-out note that resonated in Satoru's chest.
The silence that followed was thick, not because of the absence of sound, but because of all that hadn't been said yet.
Satoru felt the world shrink until only the two of them remained, so different and yet so alike in that moment of shared sincerity.
He blinked slowly, as if trying to imprint each word on his mind, and a smile curved his lips with a mixture of tenderness, disbelief, and vulnerability.
"Then do it. I'll be an open book to you if necessary." He said finally, his voice low, as if afraid to break the fragility of the moment. He saw a blush growing on the omega's face. "I can't wait to meet the flower boy either."
Yuuji swallowed, moved, feeling his chest tighten. There was such raw sincerity in Satoru's eyes that for a moment he forgot the throbbing of pain beneath his skin.
On an impulse, the omega, after scanning and memorizing the face of the man in front of him, decides to move one of his hands to move the white hair that sticks to the skin lightly covered in a layer of sweat on Satoru's forehead, brushing his fingers over the barely visible mark that grows there. "I don't understand how someone like you would be marked by someone like me."
"I'm a man too, Yuuji." Satoru can't help but laugh, allowing himself to be pampered by the surprising gentleness the omega uses over him. "Souls don't control who we are; they recognize each other thanks to something greater than us as mere humans."
The omega nods gently, understanding Satoru's point of view while in the back of his mind he remembers the countless books he read that afternoon.
With the words on the tip of his tongue, Yuuji is interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Miwa in his bubble created with Satoru, holding several files and speaking in a low voice with her earpiece. When the beta appears, and lightly collides with her, the omega realizes how close he was to Gojo without realizing it.
Taking a step back, he jerks his head around to find his best friend's whereabouts. Yuuji finds Fushiguro a few feet away, his backpack slung over his shoulder, his gaze too focused on his phone until the very moment they lock eyes. There's something in Megumi's eyes that Yuuji can only read as, «Let's get the fuck out of here."«
Yuuji shifts his gaze to his phone for a moment; he'd completely forgotten about it that afternoon, and his screen is filled with calls from his father and brother, even a call from Uraume's number that was undoubtedly from Ryoumen.
"You have five minutes, Toru-san." Miwa leaves with the agility of a snake, moving between the people there, almost running from one side to the other. That's all Yuuji can hear; he knows it's time to go when Satoru's expression changes to a more saddle one.
"I have to go again. I'm sorry, Yuuji-kun." Satoru put his puppy dog eyes, puffing out his cheeks like a toddler about to let go of his favorite stuffed animal. "I wish I had more time today, but the schedule is busy... The summer festivals coming up, and the rehearsals, the interviews—"
"Please, Satoru-san. Don't apologize, it's part of your job, and I'm being a distraction right now." Yuuji unconsciously reaches for the alpha's hand, circling his thumb around one of his fingers. The body difference is truly noticeable, even down to the size of their hands. The innocent touch quickly calms the tantrum Satoru was about to throw.
"Then comfort me with your number." Satoru pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, a model decorated with small, shiny stickers that didn't match what he looked like. That image of a serious alpha is completely destroyed by the chikawaa stickers on the back. "Please?"
"Just like that?" Yuuji smiled at the tenderness Satoru exudes as he holds out his phone with the keyboard open, intentionally brushing his fingers against the alpha's so he could hold it and begin typing his number. Saving it with his name and the small crescent emoji.
«Itadori, Yuuji 🌙»
"Yes," Satoru replied simply, shrugging as if it were a given. "I don't plan on losing you again. And even though my schedule is a mess right now, I want to see you. Sooner than you can imagine."
"Then I'll eagerly await any sign of life, Satoru-san." Yuuji suppresses a smile as he crouches down enough to grab the things he'd left near where he was sitting and resting. "I hope to see you soon."
"Wait for me, Yuuji-kun." The goodbye is really quick. Satoru repeats the action of holding Yuuji's hand so he can place a chaste kiss on the back of his hand before starting to walk in the opposite direction, marching toward the exit, surrounded by people all talking at the same time. Miwa is one of them; the beta turns just enough to greet Yuuji with a short wave.
"Miwa, have my car take them where they need to go." It's a concise order before Satoru disappears into his dressing room, surrounded by makeup artists and holding his phone. The beta lets out a confirmation beep before leaving the room.
"Ryoumen said we should go back to your house before he declares you as a missing person." Megumi suddenly appeared behind Yuuji's back, his phone displaying the thousands of threatening messages in his inbox. The omega gasped in surprise when he felt him approaching and carefully read his brother's threats.
Yuuji rolled his eyes as he shifted his backpack onto his back, seeking Megumi's tired gaze behind his still-held phone. "Leave him alone. I'm surprised you even responded to any of his messages."
The two bestfriends began walking in the direction they had come in. This time, the technical team was slowly dismantling the massive sound equipment and speakers surrounding the stage. They were suddenly intercepted by a man, with ID in hand, who informed them that he would be their driver that evening to take them to their desired destination.
Despite Fushiguro's rational doubts, Yuuji ends up winning the fight (already a loss for the alpha), so they both agree to the ride to the Itadori apartment, where a very angry Ryoumen Itadori is waiting for them like an angry father after a little prank.
Megumi is texting with Hana, and Yuuji deduces this when he feels his scent become so faint it's barely perceptible to him inside the car. The city lights move as they move toward their final destination.
"If you want to say something, do it." Fushiguro speaks quietly, not really taking his gaze off his phone screen. "I know today was crazy"
"It fucking was." Yuuji lets out a small chuckle as his head rests on his hand, his eyes catching the reflection of Tokyo's moving lights. "Do you think I can be stronger than this? It's so weird."
"Yes." The alpha answers without hesitation and almost immediately. Darkness returns to the back of the car as Fushiguro stuffs his phone into his backpack pocket. "You're stronger since you started this without knowing anything about these guys. If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger."
Yuuji allowed himself to close his eyes and rest his head back against the seat. For the first time in a long time, his mark wasn't painful.