Chapter Text
Being on stage was a thrill you swore you would never get tired of. Maybe that's why celebrities never step down whenever controversy arises- they don't take a step back but push themselves further and further into the limelight. You used to be critical of such celebrities, but the more time you spent on stage, you found it harder to be judgemental.
You and your little band were no rock stars, by all means. You were lucky if some teenagers in the next town over took the bus to see you at the weekend. But your town loved you. And it was enough for you. And you thought it was enough for your bandmates, too.
"Ah, I'm beat! Shoko you did not take the last water bottle! I'm done sharing with you- being a backup singer and a bass player is not easy you know?" Gojo complained at Shoko who just rolled her eyes at his tantrums- they seemed to get more frequent as the show went on. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he led on.
"We'll just go shops after this, you'll live," Shoko sighed and made eye contact with you. You snicker when she rolls her eyes in his direction: a secret way of communicating you two have developed, not being allowed to talk on stage and all.
"Shops? In the dead of night? Shoko, we're famous now. Did you see how many people came to see us tonight? I'm thinking of hiring a security guard at this rate. That might be cool- a bulky guy in a suit a few steps behind me at all times," Gojo went on rambling, seemingly in a better mood than a second ago. His sudden mood swings were something you all had gotten used to, being around each other so often. Though you'd refer to it as forgetfulness, rather than 'mood swings'. You weren't sure he remembered what he was upset about half the time- just that he was upset at something.
"Satoru, you're bulky enough as is. I don't see why you'd want to spend money on a bodyguard when you're completely capable of handling yourself. Throw on a suit and you'll be your own bodyguard," Getou joked with his lopsided grin- his bangs sticking to his forehead slightly. You guessed playing the guitar for an hour in such a humid room would make anyone sweat. "It's the girls I'm worried about. How about we walk each other home tonight? I'll take Shoko, she's just two streets down from my apartment."
"I don't know what you're implying. Just because we're not gym freaks doesn't make us weak. I'll have you know I carry at least 3 different weapons with me at all times- one being a syringe I knicked from medical school. The other two being- well, I'll let you find out," Shoko said and walked past him to the back exit. The front door was full of fans, you'd been informed, and getting out without being followed would be- well, impossible.
"And I told you how my Dad made me do Karate classes since we moved here. You really shouldn't underestimate women so much, Suguru- it's gonna get you in trouble someday," you said and heard Gojo snicker behind you as you all walked out together. The first thing that hit you was the cold winter breeze- it wasn't nearly as cold inside, so your coat remained tied to your waste.
"I can't wait for that day. Your comeuppance is gonna come soon, Suguru. I feel it. With the amount of girls you're involved with- I know! I know you broke it off with the last one. Still, hopping from one girl to another in a week is a sure way to get your ass kicked. Ha! I can't wait to visit you in the hospital to tell you 'I told you so'," Gojo laughed a bit too loudly, causing some heads to turn in your direction. That happened all the time, being around Gojo. His appearance and his aura made heads turn wherever he went. You supposed his spell worked on you, just as well; maybe a little too well. That was what got you there, to begin with.
"I don't know why you're talking, Satoru. Before you met our lovely singer, you were just as bad. You got bored so quickly it even made my head spin," Getou retorted, clearly not enjoying how everyone was now ganging up on him. It didn't matter though. Getou's comment had seemingly done just the trick and Gojo went back to silently walking with you- hand in hand. You didn't remember when he took your hand- or if you reached out first. It didn't matter to you, though. His big warm hands made a comforting contrast from the chilly breeze smacking your face as you walked.
"We have to turn here- no, it's just 10 minutes from here. Thanks for tonight guys. Sorry, I'm too tired to hang out. It's to be expected though, right? I feel like we accomplished something today," Getou smiled at you, then Gojo. They seemed to look at each other for a good moment. You wondered if they could communicate with one another through stares, similarly to how you and Shoko did.
"I agree; we'll go out for drinks tomorrow, okay? To celebrate today. Our first performance in front of such a huge audience. Goodnight!" Shoko gave you a short but heartfelt hug which was welcomed by you.
They both turned to leave, but Getou gave an abrupt stop and yelled back to you- specifically, to Gojo.
"Oh, don't forget what we discussed earlier, yeah? I'll tell Shoko. You can handle the rest," He looked at you when he said the last part, and you shivered abruptly- though you don't think it was from the cold winter air. You and Gojo watched them walk off. A confused Shoko now lightly pulled on Getou's arm to get him to explain what the fuck he meant by that.
"What is he on about? Satoru? Did something happen?" you asked and Gojo didn't say anything for a hot minute. He did this sometimes, too. He needed a minute or two to collect his words when he was serious. You always admired that about him: the way he spoke so eloquently and calmly whenever issues arose. He gently led you the other way- back to your shared apartment.
"We'll talk later, okay? God, he's such a downer. Sure knows how to bring down the mood. Hey- lend me some of that scarf. What? We're practically attached hip to hip, the way we walk. We'll just put it over both of us," Gojo played around with the scarf you got from a fan- you vaguely remembered the name she gave you when you asked what she was called. It was a home-knitted scarf, she told you.
And just like that, Gojo was able to mindlessly make you forget all your troubles. Perhaps it was how he made you feel that everything was going to be alright- his nonchalant personality and how he never panicked. All your troubles seemed so trivial when you brought them to him. He wordlessly convinced you it was nothing worth worrying about: your real worry should be your terrible budgeting skills.
People say it's love that makes the home. You'd disagree. You'd say it's how many pillows you can fit on your bed and how fluffy your blanket is.
You glanced at the blanket carelessly thrown on the floor, one or two pillows on top of it. Gojo didn't like them, he told you. He said they make him sweat and get in the way of-
"I love you," Gojo whispered, though not while looking at you. No, never while facing you. Instead, his head was buried in the crook of your neck while he lay beside you. You never liked hickeys- thinking of them as tacky and gross. PDA has never appealed to you like it did girls your age. But when it came to Gojo-
You took his head between your hands and kissed him deeply as if he were your last source of air. You seemingly forgot how to breathe and you pulled apart when your lungs started screaming at you for oxygen.
Through your coughs, Gojo climbed on top of you. This time, his lips were the ones approaching yours. Slowly. You chose to close your eyes and listen to your breaths- seemingly intertwined. You waited for his lips to meet yours.
They never did. You thought they never would, again.
"I'm leaving the band."