Chapter Text
Satoru wakes up with a dry mouth and crusty eyes. He jerks up as he realizes how late it is, cursing as he tries to pull off the clothes he was lent and pull on his own clothes… but, his work clothes are still at the inn!
Satoru curses again, his shoulders hanging as he instead decides to take his time getting ready. Today will just have to be an off day, he decides.
He tugs on his boots, and walks outside to the warm spring breeze that comes through the mountains with the changing of the seasons. If it weren't for the puddles on the ground and the heightened flow of creek water rushing at the end of his property, it would look as if nothing had happened the previous day.
Satoru decides to take it as a blessing then, that the weather favors him today so he can get back to the inn in one piece and not get further soaked to the bone. The last thing he needs is to hear more snark about his showering habits.
On his way, Satoru wonders about the other villagers – those that he's seen, and those he hasn't. He decides that he'll have to make another day trip to the rest of the town – maybe see something that he hasn't been able to see yet.
For now, he needs to get his clothes back.
He finds the door of the inn open, letting in natural light and the nice wind that has started to pick up and blow along the avenues of the town's square layout.
Satoru walks into the sound of soft humming.
It's a tune he's never heard before – one that sounds almost forced in its composition, as if the one humming has never heard the song, either.
He creeps into the inn on featherlight feet, taking in the scents of the early morning crowd blending into the no doubt lunch menu. His stomach churns at his lack of food, but he wills it to be silent as he tries to find the source of the humming that drives him forward.
He leans over the bar, barely keeping his toes on the ground as he tries desperately to not get caught. He hopes that Megumi isn't about to come creeping up on him in that black cat way that he has about him. Or worse, it could be Toji – wondering why Satoru is sneaking about his inn, why he's practically over the bar top, leaning into the space that is practically forbidden to customers…
Neither of the Fushiguro’s come to find him, and it's then that Satoru finds he is able to place the voice.
It's Toji.
Toji is humming… something. He's humming, and there's something about that that melts Satoru's heart and brain. He never too Toji to be a humming type and yet… here they are.
Satoru eases himself back down from the bar top, gently, quietly, and he takes even softer steps to the second floor. He put his clothes down up there – so they must still be there…
Someone's taken his clothes.
Satoru stands aghast as he stares at the laundry pile that has been taken, the wicker basket in its place empty and innocent as it stands there beneath Satoru's scrutinizing gaze. As if standing here, staring at a basket, is enough to make his clothes rematerialize.
He hears steps behind him, and Satoru turns around with lightning quickness to find Toji standing behind him, a sick grin on his face.
“I thought I heard a mouse skittering about up here.” Toji smiles, all teeth and little amusement, and Satoru finally realizes that Toji has a knife.
Oh fuck – he's got a knife .
Satoru puts up his hands, immediately sweating as he tries to remember those self defense lessons he was forced to take when he was younger. Okay, Satoru, first you have to –
Toji looks at him like he's just grown a second head, before looking down at the knife and laughing. The fucker is actually laughing during a time like this and Satoru isn't sure exactly if he wants to scream or laugh with him.
“Oh let up, farmer. I don't plan on hurting you. I was prepping some stuff for later’s rush.” Toji says flippantly, waving the knife around as if that'll make Satoru feel better.
“You… for… later?” Satoru parrots, and Toji's laugh dies down to a soft smile as he turns and beacons Satoru with a crooked finger.
“You want your clothes, right? Megumi found them – they're drying right now.”
“Oh… okay.” Satoru says, and now he finds that he is the one speaking in less than complete sentences. He follows after Toji downstairs, down to the bar, and stops. Now, it's Toji's turn to turn around and look at him, instead of the other way like last night.
“You coming?” Toji asks, though it feels more like a demand than anything, and Satoru gulps audibly as he takes that first step past the bar – as if Toji will yell at him for doing exactly as he's told to.
“Good boy.” Toji purrs, and Satoru hates exactly what that seems to do to him. He follows Toji into the kitchen, and he finds that it's a kitchen that is attached to a living room. He looks at the interior of the living room with wide eyes – as if he's seeing a side of Toji and Megumi that he's not supposed to. A softer, more domestic side.
There's two doors that lead off to who knows what on one of the far walls, both painted a deep shade of green that compliments the dark wood of the inn’s interior pretty well.
He looks back to the present to find Toji staring at him with anticipation, and a little bit of annoyance.
“You gonna gawk all day or what?” Toji says, but there's no bite to it. Satoru is thankful the man seems to have a good rein on his temper, if this is how he treats Satoru. He hurries past a table covered in knickknacks and bottles, barely looking at them, before Toji opens one more door that leads out to the back of the inn.
It opens to a courtyard, sequestered away with vines and trees that shade the area from too harsh of sun. On the breeze sways his laundry, held to a clothes line with wooden pins that look straight out of a story book. Satoru almost thinks he's walked into one when Toji gives him a playful shove towards the hanging clothing.
“Well, go on. I'm not going to get it for you. I'm not a maid, no matter what my customers may seem to think.” Toji says, and Satoru thinks that's the closest thing to a joke he's heard the man say the entire time he's been here.
He thinks he very much likes hearing it.
Satoru moves to grab his clothes, taking down the linens and their respective clips, collecting both as he goes along the line. He bundles all his clothes in one arm, cradling them as he takes the clips back to Toji. He deposits them in the other man's hands. Satoru takes note of just how much bigger Toji's hands are than his, all callouses and tanned skin. There's a different wear that Toji handles with grace – something else that Satoru's farm laden hands could never hope to achieve in his younger years of life.
Experience.
Toji’s hand encircles the clips, fingers working around the wooden pieces easily. Satoru takes his bundle of clothes and hefts it up on his hip.
“Well… thank you. For everything.” Satoru starts, and Toji waves him off as if he doesn't want to hear it.
“Don't mention it. Really. I'm not joking.” Toji says gruffly, and Satoru smiles warmly.
“You got it. But one question – what was that tune you were humming?”
Toji reaches forward and grabs at Satoru's shirt as if he's going to hit him. For a second, Satoru is afraid he will. He's grateful that Toji put the knife down in the kitchen, at least. He's pulled into Toji’s gravitational pull, their chests pressed against each other as Toji hisses in Satoru's face.
“You didn't hear shit – got that, farmer?”
Satoru blinks in Toji's face, mouth open a little bit as he tries to come to terms with what exactly he's being told.
“Is it so bad? I thought you could carry a tune – if you kept at it it might even be enjoyable –”
Toji shoves Satoru away, a sour expression on his features.
“Nothing. It was nothing.” Toji reiterates, and Satoru thinks if he knows what's good for him he'll let it die. Unfortunately for Toji, Satoru is very stubborn, and headstrong, to boot.
“What's wrong? I hum to myself on the farm – it's natural! You do it when you're alone, right?” He smiles, and there's a bit of cockiness in that smile that seems to rile up Toji like a bull seeing red.
“You don't know jack shit about what I do when I'm alone.” Toji tells Satoru, his lip curled up in a mirthless sneer. He shoves Satoru away, gaining some space between them. Toji looks pale, or maybe that's the shadows playing tricks on Satoru's eyes. Satoru takes a few more steps back, watching the way that Toji's eyes keenly keep up with all of Satoru's movements like a viper readily willing and able to strike out.
“Okay – if you won't tell me, then I won't ask… but how am I supposed to get to know you if you don't open up to me?” Satoru asks, and Toji looks at him dumbfounded.
“Who said we were getting to know one another?” Toji asks, and it's Satoru's turn to look stupefied.
“I… Is that not what we're doing? All this – getting to know each other, as neighbors?” Satoru asks, and now he's absolutely super sure that he sees what looks like a blush creep up Toji's cheeks. There's no amount of bad lighting that can hide that ruddyin0g of skin, that flushing of blood vessels… Toji must have thought he meant something else. What else he could have meant, Satoru has no idea.
What he does know is that he's playing with fire here, and he's not sure just how close he's willing to get before getting burned.
So, he backs off. He lets Toji have his space, and he puts up his hand in defense.
“Hey, whatever it was, I just thought it was interesting. You don't have to tell me shit, but I'm not giving up on this.”
He motions between the two of them with a pointed finger, quickly pointing at Toji then himself. Toji seems to think over what he's just been told – as if he's just been told the sky is purple and water is, indeed, wet, at the same time. Something obvious and yet incredibly, offensively silly, at the same time.
Toji stares at Satoru incredulously, before snorting, crossing his arms. He looks the perfect picture of an Adonis – all muscle and cocked brow. It makes Satoru's heart flutter in a way that he didn't think possible.
“Maybe one day, farmer. Keep that shit up, and we might be able to get to know one another. But don't let me catch you sneaking about in my inn again, or that's all out the window.” Toji smirks, and Satoru seems to think all of what they just had up to this point is water beneath the bridge… though he knows better than to bring up the humming again. He's very much a fan of his teeth, if you asked him.
“I'll get out of your hair. I was looking to buy some more equipment today. Maybe see around what all the town has to offer.” Satoru starts, walking back towards the inn’s interior, past the living space that screams for Satoru to inspect and understand each and every thing he sees. Toji is a constant at his back, so he doesn't dally.
“What exactly else are you looking at getting? You feel you're ready for livestock, yet?” Toji asks him as they return to the inn’s dining hall. Satoru stops.
Livestock?
That's right – he's got a barn and a coop… and he hasn't done anything with them, yet.
“Yeah… I think I might look around for some livestock.” Satoru says with a puffed out chest, optimistic and head sure. Toji looks at him with doubt, but he walks Satoru to the door, regardless.
“Go to Itadori’s hatchery. Start small. It's down this lane, to the left. It should be a small red building. If you reach your own farm, you've overlooked it, entirely.” Toji points out into the sunlight, his arm hovering in front of Satoru as he gives up his directions.
Wait…
“Itadori? Like Yuuji and Sukuna?” Satoru asks, and Toji's grin is just wide enough to crease at the corners of his mouth, but no further.
“Yeah. You sure do pay a lot of attention to those around you, huh?”
Satoru bristles as he tries to keep his facial features under a tight control. He remembers having to learn this lesson – how to read the room, to remember everything that was expected of him, to be better – the best –
“Aha, yeah I guess you could say that.” Satoru says with a smile, eyes downward even as he says it. It's not missed by Toji, whose eyes seem to see all… but the older man doesn't say anything, simply lets his arm slip down to his side as he watches Satoru step out into the sunlight.
“Left?” Satoru asks, pointing, and Toji nods while leaning against the woodgrain of the door frame.
“You got it.”
“Great – thanks!” Satoru calls to him as he takes another couple of steps down to the cobblestone street below, careful not to fall on the uneveness of its surface. He looks back up at Toji as if it's the last time he'll see the man, and Toji stares back down at him in much the same way.
Satoru is the first to break the trance between the two of them, turning back to his task at hand.
He makes his way down the avenues and lanes given to a small, well loved building. It's more faded pink than red, but there's still some red that hasn't been bleached by the sun and general weather wear and tear. There's a wind vane up on top of the building, and a waist height fence around the perimeter.
There's the soft sound of clucking wafting through the air, along with the distinct stench of freshly manured flower pots. Satoru turns into the fenced area, clutching his clothes to his chest, looking out over the small, open plot of land that stretches out in front of him. There's a good amount of chicken wire stretched out over the land, and underneath it all – chickens, a good handful of them. All of them are well fed, plump and full of plumage. One of them is a creamy pink color, a little bit taller than the others, and Satoru thinks that must be the family favorite.
He turns back to the house – because that's what it is, he finds – a house turned shop. He climbs the stairs up to the front door and knocks.
Silence greets him for a bit, until a voice calls out to him. Old, and familiar.
“Come in! The door's unlocked!”
Satoru tries the door, indeed finding it unlocked, and pushes his way out of the sun into the neat and tidy interior that looks as if it's just transported Satoru back in time. He stares at the living room that he's entered, before coming across a desk in the far corner where no one but the bus driver from when he first got here sits.
Satoru gasps, “You! You work with Yuuji and Sukuna?”
“‘With’? What's this ‘with’ you're on? They work for me!” The older man huffs, thumping the ball of his foot on the ground. He mumbles grumpily as Satoru comes closer, crossing and recrossing his arms across his chest as he chews on his teeth.
“I'm sorry – I'm still trying to get used to where everything is and who's related to who around here. You said that Yuuji and Sukuna… work for you?”
“Well, yes, in a technical sense. They're my grandsons – so they'd better help me out if they want to keep living here.” The older Itadori man says, nodding his head as if he's just spelled out the meaning of life to Satoru.
Satoru simply smiles, “That's interesting. So you're…”
“Jin. You can call me Jin.”
“Jin. Nice to re-meet you.”
“Re-meet? Ah, you're the one from the bus, ain't ya?” Jin nods his head to himself, and Satoru's smile wanes a bit before he hears footsteps coming down from the upstairs. He looks over at the stairs just in time to see the Itadori brothers come barreling down them, obviously in a fight to see who gets down first.
Yuuji looks up as he lands on the landing first, “Gojo-san! Nice to see you!”
“Yuuji! Under better circumstances, yes!”
Yuuji comes over to him, ignoring Sukuna's grumbling as he leans against the banister to stare at Satoru from the stairs, “Speaking of – what brings you over to us on this side of town?”
“I'm looking for chickens. I figured I'd best start taking care of something other than myself if I want to start pulling a profit.”
Yuuji laughs, “Well, laying your own eggs will definitely do that for you! You can even make better good out of your eggs and make an even better price for them!”
“Really? Like what?” Satoru asks, and Sukuna scoffs.
“Like turning your eggs into mayonnaise. Any sort of extra manufacturing can bring up the price of your goods – if you do it right. Seriously, didn't they teach you anything in that big city of yours before moving out here to the sticks?”
Yuuji turns to his brother, “Sukuna… You don't have to be so condescending. He is just starting.”
“Starting to get on my damn nerves.” Sukuna says, turning back up to the stairs to stomp back up them. Satoru watches him leave, unsure if he'll ever be able to get a sense of approval out of the younger man. Maybe, maybe not. Right now, though, he's got more pressing matters.
Like chickens.
And eggs.
And everything that comes with them.
He turns back to Jin, who's turned back to his book keeping, and he walks up to the table.
“How much would two chickens be?” He asks, and Jin looks up at him before punching some numbers in a calculator.
He flips the calculator towards Satoru, and Satoru feels his heart lurch in his chest.
“That's… for two? Not ten, right? I said two?”
Yuuji laughs and walks over to the calculator. He does a few bits of math himself and flips the calculator back towards Satoru.
This number is a little bit better – though it's still pretty high.
“That's for one, plus any feed that you might need for a month. That's what normally gets people.”
Oh, okay… that makes sense.
“But wait – how do I get my farm like yours? Where they can feed free range and –”
“You'd need a chicken wire enclosure,” Yuuji offers up helpfully, “Otherwise hawks could get to your birds.”
Oh… yet more things that make sense.
Satoru can feel his mind reeling with notes as he mentally takes them. He starts to dread his next question.
“How much would an enclosure be?”
Yuuji smiles, “For you Gojo-san? Here.”
Yuuji rehands the calculator back towards Satoru, and his soul almost leaves his body at the number. Yuuji laughs at his reaction – his face obviously not holding back his true feelings.
“It's alright, Gojo-san! Not everyone starts off free roaming, and that's okay! We want to get you started with eggs, the money will come later!” Yuuji ushers Satoru out the door, out towards the chicken coop. Satoru thinks that he's right. You can't be afraid to break a few eggs to make an omelette, as the sayings goes… or something like that.
They both enter a medium sized coop that has to be knelt into, but once inside, both of them can stand up to their natural heights. Yuuji hasn't stopped smiling since they came inside, and the pinkish cream chicken from earlier comes clucking in from outside.
“There she is! There's my girl!” Yuuji says, kneeling down to pick up the hefty chicken. She wriggles a bit, but after a bit, calms down. Yuuji looks pleased as punch as he cups the chicken in the crook of his arm and starts to pet her with his free hand.
“Gojo-san, this is Yuko. Yuko, Gojo-san.”
Satoru is about to reach out when Yuuji stops him with a clicking of his tongue, jerking the chicken away from him.
“She doesn't do well with strangers. It's one of Yuko’s flaws, but I don't hold it against her. I hope you won't, either.”
Satoru hums, “I won't. I've met a few others that are very much the same way.”
His thoughts go to the Fushiguro's, but mainly Toji. If Yuuji could read minds, he doesn't seem to catch on to Satoru's meaning. He simply pets Yuko, before turning to the rest of the flock and making a broad sweeping motion with his free hand.
“Okay Gojo-san – pick your chicken! I'll set up a payment plan for you, so you can take them home today, and start getting eggs tomorrow!”
“What – that early?” Satoru says, shocked.
Yuuji hums and nods, “I like you, I won't have you start at a disadvantage. Choose your chicken and I'll make sure you're getting a good one!”
Satoru could cry at Yuuji's generosity. He starts to look around, checking out the color and size of every bird that seems to cross his path. A few of them catch his eyes, but something about them just doesn't scream out to him. All the chickens are good, Yuuji attests, but they need to call out to Satoru. That's how he knows he can form a bond with them.
They're at it for what feels like forever when a chicken with mottled feathers comes into view. It's the most beautiful thing that Satoru's seen in a while. It takes all the wind out of his lungs, and he stares at it for a while before he blinks to make sure that the creature is, indeed, real.
“That one - what's that one's name?” Satoru asks, and Yuuji looks over at it with a contemplating glance.
“That one's new – I think she doesn't have a name yet. What do you think she looks like, Gojo-san?”
Satoru stares at the chicken a little bit longer, really feeling deep down in the root of his being for a name.
“Kitani.”
Yuuji smiles at the name, “I think we found your chicken, Gojo-san.”
Satoru smiles at Yuuji, kneeling down to reach out for the chicken. She looks up at him, her beady eyes unwavering as he lets a finger run between them, petting the small, soft feathers that grow there. Satoru reaches forward, picking Kitani up in much the same way that Yuuji holds Yuko. He holds his forearm underneath her, supporting her as if holding a baby, and he feels his heart melt as he feels her start to purr.
Yuuji's face lights up as he hears her start up, too, and they both exit the coop after Yuuji puts Yuko down.
It's starting to be dusk, now, and the temperature starts to dip as they reach the front door of the house. Kitani purrs and nestles into the crook of Satoru's arm, sending yet another pang of love through Satoru's being.
“I'll bring the feed over tomorrow morning,” Yuuji tells him, walking down the cobblestone street in step with Satoru's own strides. Satoru is surprised to find that, at the end of the lane, is the entrance to his own property. They're neighbors, and Satoru has had no idea.
He really needs to get out more.
Satoru looks back down the way that they came, and suddenly Yuuji seems like a mind reader as he also looks back toward his own house.
“It's wild to think that we've been so close this entire time. I usually head out from the inn with Megumi, so the distance never really registered with me.”
Satoru nods, “I've kept to maybe three places in town so my distances are way out there. At least you know your way around the town.”
Yuuji laughs, “Only for the past few years. I left home for school, but eventually, Grandpa begged me to come back. He said Sukuna couldn't cut it.”
Satoru looks at him in awe, “You came back for your family?”
“Of course – who wouldn't?” Yuuji says, like it's the easiest thing that he's ever thought about or said.