Chapter Text
For the rest of the afternoon, Satoru can’t seem to focus on anything but you. The equations in his notebook turn into illegible scribbles as his thoughts continuously float to your smile. Shoko’s and Geto’s voices fade into distant echos in his mind as he replays your conversation over and over in his head, thinking about other, cooler ways he could’ve handled the situation, so maybe you wouldn’t think of him as such a nerd. To be fair, he swore he’d seen you around popular kids before now that he’s had a long thought about it. Lingering in the background, but there. He’d never have expected you to share some of the same interests as him, things he’d actually gotten bullied for.
Everytime he glances at his arm and sees the smudged, inky numbers splayed across the veins on his inner wrist, his heart does a double backflip.
He tries to distract himself by occasionally chatting with Shoko and Suguru, but he’s so obviously not present in the conversation that they give him weird looks.
“You okay, man?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been spacing out all afternoon.”
Satoru jolts at Suguru’s question, realising he’s been blankly staring at the same equation for almost 20 minutes straight. He blinks down at his notebook in realisation where—instead of calculations, are tiny scribbled symbols of hearts and stars with a messy ‘(Your Initial) + S?’ Half erased in the corner of the margin.
He slams the book shut with a little too much force when Suguru’s eyes wander down to the book. “Um—psshhttt, yeah! I’m fine.” His voice lifts an octave higher when he says this, betraying his true emotions. A beat passes before he adds—
“Do you think black holes are romantic?”
Suguru almost spits out his coffee and Shoko coughs awkwardly into her textbook, trying to hold back a giggle.
“What? Romantic? You’re tryna tell us that space is the ultimate love language or some shit??” He half scoffs half laughs, an incredulous look on his face.
Satoru huffs, shoving his notebook into his bookbag, trying to act nonchalant. “Shut up, I just..had a thought, is all..” he mumbles anxiously, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“Right.” Shoko snorts. “What a nerdy thought.”
Even his friends made fun of him pretty much constantly.
He rolls his eyes. “Y-you’re both assholes.” He sulks as he packs his stuff away quietly as he can. “It’s a valid thought! Black holes are mysterious, intense, and powerful. Sounds romantic to me.”
Shoko leans forward on her elbows, clearly amused and grinning widely. “Please go on. I’m sure me and Suguru would love to hear about how you wanna marry a black hole.”
Satoru glares back at her. “Shut up! I don’t wanna marry a black hole..” he scoffs.
Suguru, having recovered from laughing that had evolved to a coughing fit, pipes in. “Yeah, right. I bet you wanna write love letters to the event horizon and everything.”
Shoko and Suguru continued to snicker helplessly at him, whilst he just sat there opposite, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Then he finally groans, dragging a hand over his face, making his glasses almost tip off his nose. “Ugh, you’re both insufferable.”
He slumps in his chair dramatically, stealing Suguru’s coffee just to chug it in one go—mostly to shut them up. “I’m not thinking about romance. Im just making an objective observation about celestial bodies and their..poetic qualities.”
A pause as he chews on the rim of the cup before muttering. “…And maybe if someone had eyes that looked like collapsing stars or whatever—hypothetically, that’d be cool too..” he mumbles, his pale cheeks flushing another pastel pink.
Wow. Just for that nerdy statement he was definitely going to be bullied for the rest of the day, and constantly met with ‘Satoru’s got a giiiirllfriendddd~’
He just decided to pack up his things and head back to his dorm.
Later that night.
Satoru spent his entire time—after attending a few important lectures, of course, in his room for the rest of the day bedrotting, playing video games—like super Mario or digimon mini games he had stored in the back of his crowded dorm’s shelves, and pondering wether he should text you or not.
At the moment, he’s sprawled on his bed, his thoughts a chaotic mess that contains mostly you. He’s exasperated from the day he’s had—which he didn’t do that much, but still—his eyes are half closed, even then, every time he tries to sleep, your soft voice, and the way you said his name, keeps his mind awake. He’s got it so bad for you it’s almost pathetic.
Satoru groans, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. The battered glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, because of course he has those, might as well be mocking him at this point. He grabs a pillow and groans even louder into it, muffled lovesick frustration echoing throughout his dorm walls before he flings it halfway across the space with unexpected strength. “Fuck.”
A beat of silence passes when he rolls back over onto his back, blankly staring up at the ceiling in the dark again before announcing: “…I should text her.” His voice a quiet mutter.
He grabs his fliphone from the nightstand, unlocking it with trembling hands. He stares at the miniature 2000’s keypad, fingers hovering over the buttons.
What the hell is he going to say? He’s never been the cheesy, romantic type, and he can’t quite shake off the feeling that he’ll come off too intense.
But he can’t stop thinking about you. Your voice, your smile, god, he’d even settle for the tiniest smidge of attention from you.
After about 30 minutes of drafting and deleting different variations of such a simple greeting, he decides to text;
Satoru : ‘Hey’
He stares at the screen, the little flashing cursor sneering at him. Wow. What a way to sound like a genius, Satoru! He sighs and types a secondary message before he has chance to try and chicken out.
Satoru : ‘Can’t sleep. What’re you doing?’
This is when you wake up to your phone vibrating loudly. You’ve never been too much of a deep sleeper, and you left your phone accidentally beneath your pillow, causing you to shudder awake after your phone vibrates beneath you.
You rub your eyes and search clumsily under your pillow—without even looking—to try and find your phone. When you click it open, your eyes strain in the dark, trying to make out the small writing whilst you’re half asleep.
Once you’ve adjusted, you send a message back.
You : ‘Oh, hey.’
‘Not doing much ^ ^’
Satoru’s heart does a stupid flip in his chest when he sees your response. It’s just a simple ‘oh hey’ and it’s still enough to make him giddy.
He types out a reply, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, like playboys he’s seen in movies, if only he could ever actually be that awesome.
Satoru : ‘Nothing? It’s three in the morning.’
You : ‘Welp.’
‘I can’t sleep either’
You don’t know why you said that. You literally JUST got up.
Meanwhile, the most massive grin spreads across Satoru’s face. You just said you couldn’t sleep either, and his heart is soaring.
His thumbs fly over the keypad, typing back a quick reply. He feels himself shaking slightly, the nerves and excitement coursing throughout him betraying his casual responses. He’s mostly glad this is just through a screen right now.
Satoru : ‘Insomnia buddies?’
You can’t bring yourself to lie to him now.
You : ‘LOL. yes.’
Satoru : ‘I guess we’re both on the same wavelength, awake at 3AM’
You : ‘Yep haha’ You decide to change the subject quickly after this.
You : ‘So what do you wanna talk about :P’
Satoru’s fingers hover over the screen again. Anything. He wants to talk about anything with you. Your favourite colour, something weird about yourself, how you tripped in the library whilst walking away from him (yes he saw it)
But instead of spilling all that at once like an idiot, he types:
Satoru : “Do you believe in aliens?”
You : ‘Hm.’
‘Well.’
You smile behind the screen. This was your specialty; conspiracy theories. Or theories of any type, really.
When there’s no reply for atleast 6 minutes, Satoru closes his phone, disappointment flushing his face. Little did he know you were writing an entire paragraph about how aliens could be real and that there were many alleged sightings that all described the same things.
And, for the cherry ontop, you add;
‘That’s just my theory though. Who knows, it’s unlikely they’re real anyway’
..
Satoru stares at your lengthy paragraph on the other side of the screen, reading every word twice. He’s a bit stunned, to be perfectly honest. Most people usually scoff or roll their eyes when he mentions something like that—anything conspiracy theory related. But you, you actually listened. And you responded with a well thought out argument and a theory of your own.
His heart skips a beat. It’s a stupid realisation, but, he really does like you.
He’s unable to wipe off the grin from his face, drawn on with permanent marker. He decides to try teasing you, so he types back:
Satoru : ‘Wow. That’s the longest paragraph I think I’ve ever seen. Nerd.’
You : ‘Omg shut up.’
‘You brought up the aliens in the first place. Don’t even lie, you’re a nerd too!!’
Satoru : ‘Yeah, yeah, but you’re the one who took the time to consider the possibility of little green men, so who’s the real nerd here?’ (Trick question, it’s both of you)
You : ‘Alright, that’s it, I’m not talking to u anymore>;(‘ you text back, half-joking.
He responds quicker than you expect. He tries not to sound desperate, but with the way he replied instantly, he was definitely panicking.
Satoru: ‘Waitwaitwait I’m joking don’t ignoreee meeeee’
You : ‘As long as you stop teasing me’
You: ‘You were much shyer irl T_T’
He lets out an embarrassed huff.
Satoru : ‘Pfff shut up you’re much less terrifying this way’
After a second, he types again, feeling a little bolder now.
Satoru : ‘Hey, can I ask you a question?’
You : ‘Go ahead.’
Satoru hesitates for a second, fingers hovering over the screen. This is stupid. He shouldn’t even be asking this, but—
Satoru : ‘Why did you give me your number?’
You pause momentarily, just staring at the screen, wondering how to go about this.
You : ‘Because I wanted to?’ You end up texting. It’s the truth, to be fair !
Satoru lets out an involuntary snort as soon as he reads your message. Satoru : ‘Wow. What a great explanation.’
You : ‘What did you want me to say, that I gave you my number because I find you cute?’
You type it before you even realise, like your fingers are moving faster than your own brain.
On the other end, Satoru is choking on his own spit, sending him into a coughing fit, his eyes bursting wide as he re-reads your text to make sure he read it correctly. His face is instantly burning red, and for a second, he just sits there in stunned silence. He honestly never thought girls were into him at all, until now.
Satoru : ‘You think I’m cute??????’ He types back nervously.
And then immediately regrets it. Every response he gives sounds like the world’s dumbest question.
Why not be flirty for once?
You : ‘ ..maybe ;)’
Satoru's brain completely shuts down. His grip on the phone tightens, knuckles going white as he stares at your message in utter disbelief.
He types out a response—deletes it. Types again—deletes that too.
Finally, after approximately ten years of internal screaming:
Satoru : ‘...I think you're cute.’
And then he chucks his pillow across the room like an absolute drama queen because holy shit does he still feel like a teenage right now instead of being in fucking college.
You smile and shakily type back. You : ‘AHH, really??? ^^’
Satoru buries his face in his hands, unable to even begin to deal with the absolute wave of affection that washes over him reading that message.
His heart's racing so fast he's worried it might explode. He types out a response, trying not to sound too desperate, but there's just no denying that he's a complete mess right now.
Satoru : ‘..Yeah really cute.’
‘Thanks Satoru :3’
Satoru actually squeaks aloud at the ":3” emoji. His entire body locks up and he stares at his phone screen in utter disbelief.
He types out a response with shaky fingers:
‘No problem. :)’
Unsure of what to say next, you decide to call it a night. You : ‘I’m getting a bit tired. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the library? x’
Satoru : ‘Yeah. Tomorrow. Library. See you.’
After sending that text, Gojo throws himself back against the bed and just stares at the ceiling.
He feels giddy as hell, like he's floating on air. He's pretty sure he looks like an absolute idiot lying here and grinning up at the ceiling like some obsessed fool, but he can't bring himself to care. Hell, the stupid smile is still on his face as he drifts off to sleep, phone clutched in his hand.