Chapter Text
Business is kind of like hunting if you think about it.
"For the love of God, if you go into this thing again, I swear! A chicken doesn't call a wolf on a cell phone at 9:49 pm on a Friday! Just stop being-"
"Did you really just call me a chicken?" Geto is so tired he can't even master a proper strict tone. Nanako would bulldoze straight through it even if he managed, to be honest. She blows her hair out of her face and bends down to grab for Suguru's phone with a frustrated sigh.
"Everything in this household I have to do on my own," she huffs, stabbing the phone twice with her finger, and the following dial sound fills Suguru's blood with ice. "I can't imagine what all of you would do without me here."
Suguru would most likely sleep with his face on this desk with a lot of shame but minimal embarrassment. Probably.
You see, in several years of experience running a relatively small business, Suguru learned to love phone calls. It is so easy for vendors to ignore his emails and for clients to order promising amounts of seasonal baskets during holidays and just never show up to pick them up and pay. The place used to be a mess when a text thirty minutes before shift was enough for his staff to call in sick even though they met eyes at a bar literally eight hours earlier.
Suguru sometimes feels like a hunter, dialing these numbers. He gets the sales, locks down dates and gives these young bastards a chance to come up with a plausible lie as to why they can't show up for a shift. He targets his prey, corners it and takes a deposit from it before it can tell him all about the "for good old times sake, Suguru, can't you just hold the spot for an old friend…"
The only exception is, as usual, calling Satoru Gojo. Suguru would much prefer texting or writing a letter, putting it in a bottle and hurling it into the canal with a faint hope one day it would find its recipient a day too late to be readable.
Calling Satoru is terrifying because it always feels like Suguru is the one hunted. The way Satoru will always answer within two rings, his full attention at his immediate disposal - the very serious and attentive "Suguru" with which he answers every single time like Suguru's name is the most profound word he knows. Suguru always does the dumb thing and automatically parrots Satoru's name back in the same tone. He has been doing that for what feels like forever, and he kind of suspects that Satoru just likes hearing his own name back; that's why he continues doing this stupid bit every time.
Usually, calling Satoru is like staring into the eyes of a predator and hoping you don't get perceived enough to be eaten. Calling Satoru for a stupid and embarrassing reason is a death sentence.
Nanako looks at Suguru's face - full of pain - and mumbles, "You will chicken out if you try to text him. Again."
"Again, you with the chickens…"
"Suguru," comes a voice from the speaker of Suguru's phone, heavy, serious, and somehow hopeful, and so so so embarrassing. Suguru almost replies, but Nanako is faster and louder.
"Nanako!" she yells into the phone and smiles. "Hey, fuckface, tell him that you would-"
"Okay, that's enough," Suguru puts one palm on the table beside the place where Nanako sits on a pile of accounting reports from last month, the second hand massaging his temple. "I will handle it from here. Thank you, Nanako. Please, go to bed."
Nanako rolls her eyes and slides off the desk.
"Ask him," she says loud enough for Satoru to hear on the other end of the line because if there is one thing Nanako is good at, it is instigation. She knows Gojo will never back down once he smells blood in the water. Suguru gives her an annoyed look, and she smiles. "Alright, I'm out. Bye fuckface!" she yells to the phone.
"Nighty night, Nana!" comes from the speaker.
It is empty without Nanako in the room and quiet, her eye roll reverberating against the walls like a faint chime. Suguru sighs and hears a faint laughter from the phone. He is afraid to take it off the speaker and bring it to his ear.
"Long day?" asks Satoru, and Suguru weakly groans in response. "Ok, gotcha. Wanna hear a joke?"
"No."
"What is your most reliable body part?"
"I hate you."
"But you are thinking it!" Satoru sing-songs before cackling like a duck. Suguru tries to look at one of the reports to file something away, but everything swims. Satoru gets enough laughs and quiets down to give his serious punchline, "It's your fingers. You can always count on them."
"Sure."
"But when it comes to yours truly, there is also-"
"I am going to throw you out the window."
"Promise?"
Suguru groans again to the laugh.
"Okay. Okay, sorry," Satoru clears his throat and sobers up. "So, to what do I owe such an honour on this lovely evening?"
Suguru blinks.
"We didn't wake you up, did we?"
"Nah, I'm grading papers," there is a rustle on the other end. "Got about… forty left. I'm not gonna sleep for another three hours minimum."
"I don't want to distract-"
"Please. Be real, Suguru. What did you want to ask me?"
Suguru winces. The phone on his table looks more like a venomous animal; he can't touch it.
"Nothing."
"Okay. What did you need to ask me then?" Little shit thinks he's so witty. "Unless you wanna die by hand of one of your tiny demons."
The air outside got cold so swiftly this year. It whistles against the tiny crack of an opened window, and Suguru pulls his blanket higher on the shoulders. It is warm and colourful - Mimiko made it herself two years ago instead of preparing for the finals (she hated math and made it impossible for Suguru to scold her). No matter how long Suguru will sit on these sales reports, the numbers won't change. Nothing will get worse if he says it. It's not like Satoru would hate him all of a sudden; maximum will laugh and never let him live it down, but what's new?
They are friends, and at least one of them will get a good laugh out of it.
Suguru lets out a sigh, and the words tumble out so quietly and grumbly like gravel falling into the water.
"What?" Satoru asks, genuinely puzzled, and Suguru is mad at everyone, embarrassed beyond reason, and so, so frustrated with himself. He repeats, still garbled, and Satoru sighs. "You know, if you gonna-"
"To be my fucking boyfriend!" Suguru yells out without realizing it, and the next second, when quiet settles on both ends of their call, he immediately wants to kill himself.
Satoru kills him faster.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, absolutely. I'll be your boyfriend."
Suguru fucking hates him. It's not even a joke. Satoru is dead serious saying this. Suguru knows how sarcasm sounds out of his mouth, and this is not it.
Does he say yes to any stupid shit someone asks of him? Is he always on board with something this idiotic from anyone? If both of them were five years younger, Suguru would have called him a slut, Satoru would snort laughing, and that would be it. Instead...
"Just like that?" Suguru digs, annoyed. "You're not going to ask for a reason or any explanation whatsoever?"
"Well, if it isn't eternal love and deepest devotion, I was gonna if you didn't explain sometime soon. Should I ask now?"
"You should always ask before you agree to fucking anything!" Suguru realizes he is becoming genuinely upset, and that is not Satoru's fault or problem. He is just tired and very grumpy, and his head is not working properly, and- "And I meant fake boyfriend. Oh my god, I meant pretending for like a week, not… I'm sorry, I am a mess today."
"You're good, I get it. Long day."
Suguru presses his eye with his fingertips and wipes his face, trying to get rid of a building headache. He wants to sleep so badly.
"It is still a yes, by the way. But I really want to hear the details now."
It's not like Suguru dreamt of his current life since he was a kid. Kids are mostly irresponsible and do not know what reality looks like. Exhibit A: Nanako.
"Do you remember Yuki Tsukumo from uni?"
Suguru kicks off his shoes at the door and goes to the kitchen with a phone at his ear. Satoru scoffs, and the sound of the toaster popping on the other end accompanies it, reminding Suguru of the old days. Satoru loves a toast after he already brushed his teeth.
"The blonde one with no friends?"
"That is-"
"The one who was a huge fucking bitch? I think I remember."
Suguru forgot how strongly Satoru felt about some people when they were in uni.
"I would not say she was so bad…"
"And ugly," Satoru adds without listening.
Suguru prepares a glass of water for his nightstand and moves heavily to the bathroom. He starts brushing his teeth with a phone on the counter, Satoru taking a break to crunch on his snack with all the comfort you can have in relative silence. What was it that made Satoru hate Yuki so much? It's not like they ran into each other that often.
"Turns out she is an influencer now," Suguru will not question Satoru's attitude. He knows better than to ask for his reasoning if he is not ready for a forty-minute-long detour. Satoru makes a disgusted sound in response. "And you know how with the motel… I promise it is all connected."
"I believe you, go ahead."
"Yes, so," Suguru falls on his bed and lets his back straighten, "The motel hasn't been that great. Even the girls started noticing. So Nanako took it upon herself to save the whole business on her own."
"I think that reminds me of someone," Satoru quips with an audible smile.
"Shut up. Nanako wants to get into that school for marketing or something with advertising. Her grades are not that great right now, so I think at least some part of it is her treating my job as her portfolio. If she can bring some business to us, she knows I'll let her use it as a reference."
"And Ugly Yuki is an influencer…" Satoru guesses.
"She does travel and tourism-related content, I think. Haven't checked - I found out about this yesterday," Suguru rubs his face again and turns to the side, letting his eyes close for a minute with a phone on top of his ear. "Apparently, she is running some kind of competition where she visits low-profile spots and will feature favourites on her page and give a monetary reward to a winner."
"And what do you need to win?"
"Fuck if I know, Nanako never actually told me."
"Do you need to have a-" Satoru pushes with a suppressed laugh, and Suguru snorts.
"Fuck you. No. She never told me because she submitted the motel without my permission and lied on the application to make it more appealing, I guess. Included a whole sob story."
"As if you don't have enough sob as it is."
"Exactly! Is my suffering not enough? She says it's not the right type of sobbing. She wrote that I overtook the thing to run it for the kids with my partner, that we apparently love each other so much," Suguru exaggerates his tone. Satoru chuckles, which makes the whole conversation less embarrassing. It is always so easy to team up with Satoru against anyone. "I don't actually know what she wrote. I heard the lie and flipped out. She is getting out of control."
"Oh, she's been out of control for years. I love her." Nanako hates Satoru. She will be very smiley and call him names with a laugh, but she actually can't stand him for some reason. Suguru isn't quite sure if Satoru isn't aware or if this knowledge only feeds his obsession with her. "So the bitch is coming?"
"Yes, Yuki Tsukumo chose us as one of the destinations. Did not even pretend to be unbiased. She immediately sent a very casual email and invited herself over with a phrase about how excited she was to see me again. She will be here for four or five days and…"
Satoru is quiet on his end. Suguru kind of wishes he could see his face and gauge the reaction.
"I really need the money, Satoru. I don't think she would take me seriously if she found out I got bullied into doing this and lied on the application."
"If she doesn't take you seriously, she is fucking stupid," Satoru says, suddenly almost angry. He switches in an instant - back to joking, "Okay, I understand the mission."
"I don't think you do."
"No, I get it."
"You really don't."
"I'll be the most charming background to the lovely travel destination and look pretty next to you while you lie to the face of a scoundrel who deserves it. Easy!"
"That's," Suguru yawns and the inflow of oxygen to the brain makes him think that, "Actually, that's exactly it. If you could visit for one of those days and let Nanako call you my boyfriend in front of her once or twice, that would be enough. I'm sure she will do everything else."
"Oh, I'll be there for the whole thing!"
"No."
"The kids love me! It will be more believable if I'm there the whole time."
"You have a job."
"Yeah, the winter break is right around the corner, and the magic of it is that students love remote lectures. I'll get them to do labs and silent reading! They'll eat it up. Oh my, is Yuji still there?"
"Do not-"
"He is! I'm getting on the train in three hours."
"Satoru," Suguru sighs, and Satoru zips it. It is nice to have a friend capable of detecting when you're at the end of your patience with something. Another yawn gets out, and Suguru feels the weight of the last couple of days push him down. "I am sorry I made this about myself, and I am truly grateful for your help. You don't need to do anything above minimum."
"But I want to," he can almost hear a pout.
"I appreciate your help in any way. I'm sorry to call so late with stupid shit. And making it all about myself."
"But I love stupid shit!" Satoru laughs. "Especially when it's about you."
"I never asked how you were doing."
"Oh, the same, you know. Megumi blocked me on Twitter, fucking hilarious, hear this-"
Suguru lets the day go as he smiles.
Suguru has a deal with a townhouse landlord across the street. He gets one of the tiniest units to live in, and the guy gets one of the motel's storage spaces. Rents cancel each other out, and Geto gets a place to sleep separated from his place of work by a couple hundred meters, which sometimes is just enough not to go completely insane.
The winter has descended in a swoosh, so now Suguru wakes up from the chill on his five-minute walk over to the motel, heels freezing in his slippers, ears turning red.
The moment he steps into the front doors to check on Mimiko, the sound hits him up the head like a baseball bat.
"Then can you at least tell me when he's coming?" it is a very particular grating sound - entitled demand early in the morning. Geto woke up late after yesterday, meaning he now has to deal with this without a single sip of coffee in him. And he must deal with it because this voice can mean only one thing at the reception desk: call for a higher-up.
"Not really, I don't know his schedule," Mimiko says quietly, not scared but not enthused to be here either; all control of the situation is fully abandoned. Mimiko does not like responsibility and does not see the point in looking clever or influential in the strangers' eyes.
"Well, what do you know?" the woman in her fifties scolds her like a child. "God knows, I am a very good person and do not behave like this usually, but this place, it seems, cannot be more hostile towards its patrons."
"Ma'am, I promise you that no one," Mimiko starts, drawing out every syllable in a quiet but almost condescending tone teenagers wield masterfully these days, but then her eyes catch Suguru at the door. "Oh hey," it is the flattest oh you will ever hear, "there he is. Geto-san, we had-"
"And who do I have an honour speaking with?" the woman tries to sound more elegant than she is, but the simple interruption negates any effect. Suguru breathes the cloud of cold air out and smiles softly.
"Geto Suguru, good morning. How may I be of assistance?"
The woman sighs, turning to him completely while Mimiko holds up a key behind her back, the tag with a number signalling a room number to him. Suguru nods quietly to her, and Mimiko stands up and leaves the room without a sound.
"I wish it was a good morning, Geto. I am a very good person at heart," already heard that, "and do not get involved usually, but here I am forced to ask to speak to your superior."
"Then you are in luck. I am as superior as it gets: I am running this motel," Suguru answers. Every complaint starts with concern, and he is still willing to believe he can resolve this, but he is cranky this morning, and usually, actual problems do not start with such a prologue. They mostly get thrown at him right away to solve immediately. "Let's start with the issue, and how can I fix it for you?"
"Well, I doubt you can fix a place when it becomes dirty to this extent. This place is not family-friendly, your guests are filthy creatures, and your staff creates a hostile environment for anyone who tries to provide feedback. This lady here does not know what she is doing and is extremely rude!"
"I appreciate you dedicating your time to provide feedback to me," Suguru keeps a smile on his face, takes several steps across the room to leave his shoulder bag behind the reception desk and sits on one of the lounge chairs in front of it. He gestures for the woman to do the same, and she sits down with a huff, clutching her bag so tightly like she expects it to be stolen any second. "However, it would be much easier to address your concerns if you could provide examples and actual descriptions of your issues. Would you mind telling me what exactly gave you such impressions of our motel? Was the room not up to your standards or any particular service?"
"Well, I could not reach anyone the whole night when I needed help. And these people..."
"Which people?"
"Next door." There is only one occupied room next to hers, number Nine, and Geto knows exactly who she is talking about.
"Something happened with them?"
The woman purses her lips and sends her eyes upwards like an irritated prayer. "I can't even say it."
"Hey, boss!" Yuji Itadori is a lovely kid with a soft temper and a caring heart. He also is uniquely strong for his age and complexion, which makes him a fantastic housekeeper and grants him a loud entrance every time he forgets not to send the door banging against the door. The woman jumps from the loud noise, and Suguru barely holds back a laugh. Yuji looks into the room with his usual bandana, pulling his hair back and bright eyes. "Found ya! Just letting you know to take room Nine out of service for today. These guys had some crazy sex in there, so now I need to deep-clean that mess. Do not expect it ready by check-in."
"Thank you, Yuji. I'll keep it in mind." Suguru nods with a smile, and the kid shoots him a thumbs up before running out.
"Might need some help later, too. It's bad in there."
Suguru returns his attention to the woman after Yuji runs off and prepares for the negotiation.
"What a bitch!" is the first thing Suguru hears when he enters the diner from inside the motel. Nobara turns her head back to the door when he closes it behind himself and flips from defensive to partially relieved. "Oh, it's you."
"It's me. But what would you do if it was a guest?"
"I would call her a fucking bitch to her face," the girl says without missing a beat and turns back to Mimiko at the bar. "Do you want to make her voodoo doll and stab it with a stake knife today? No way Itadori already cleaned her room! We can still find some hair there."
Sometimes Nobara gets into her intimidating moods, but at least Mimiko is smiling now. Suguru sits down by her side and sighs.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Mimiko. You did a great job there."
"Thanks," she whispers, her back slouched and hair all in her face. "She was very unpleasant though."
"I know, but she's gone now. I don't think she will ever come back, too."
"She better fucking not!" Nobara yells from one of the tables where she finishes up the brunch setup. A coffee cup slides in front of Suguru, and he nods thanks to Utahime behind the bar. She shrugs and continues restocking quietly.
"Please tell me you did not give her a refund," Mimiko says, making Suguru laugh.
"Oh no, I offered her a future stay credit. I think it offended her even more." Utahime snorts at his words. "I can't afford to give money back, and we need to deep-clean that room now. Were they that loud?"
"No idea. They left very quickly and quietly though," Utahime says, filling carafes with milk and cream. "Around five am, just as I arrived to open."
"But even if they were loud, what did she expect?" Nobara throws menus on tables without looking, toppling over several pepper shakers while at it. "Sex is what hotels are for. Does she realize someone probably did it before on the bed she slept on? Like, more than a dozen times, no doubt."
"You should put Nobara to reception, Geto," Utahime smiles. "She's a natural at handling complaints." Kugisaki cackles.
"She expected a night of sleep, which is a primary selling point of a hotel," Suguru says before taking a sip of his coffee. "It is just above sex on the list."
"C'mon man."
"No, you have a point," he shrugs. "I'm just saying she had a reason to complain. We failed to deliver the primary service we advertised."
"I would feel so sorry for her if she weren't a-"
"We get it, Nobara," Utahime says, nodding to the kitchen doors. "But it would be really nice if we stopped cursing out patrons in the common areas. Take it elsewhere and make it useful."
The girl leaves with a shrug and a conspiratory hand gesture to Mimiko, very much resembling stabbing.
Mimiko sighs and stands up too. "I have to get back to the desk. Can I have some lemonade for strength?"
Geto laughs and puts his hand on her head while Utahime fills a tall glass. "Go show 'em."
It is a good place with lovely kids, and sometimes Suguru feels so old beside them. On mornings like this, he is thankful to have Iori by his side. She is the best at managing a restaurant but even better at handling the girls. In his many years doing this, Suguru noticed that mean girls survive in customer service the longest. He feels that Mimiko may need some help, but all other girls need a strong grip to reel them back when they get out of hand. Utahime is so much better at that than him; it sometimes feels like the whole place would fall apart without her here.
"What are you making this face for," she is not asking. She is telling you she noticed and doesn't like it. Her hair gets out of a ponytail, which is quickly put back in place before it can irritate her further. "You know I can't stand sad faces at my bar."
It is a sweet bit she has with families that come in for breakfast halfway through their road trip: gets the kids to stop crying, but also is very menacing with nighttime visitors who wail and try to talk about sad shit without buying anything.
Suguru drinks more of his coffee and winces.
"I have to give you a heads-up… But you won't like it."
"Another holiday package shit? What did Nanako come up with this time?"
More holiday baskets. Not the point right now.
"Not that… also that, but later," Suguru mumbles before sipping some more just to postpone the inevitable. It is hot and comforting, and he has nowhere near enough when he sets the mug down and says, "Satoru will be coming for a couple of days."
Every bone in Iori's body seems to stiffen. She looks down at Suguru without turning her head. "Are you fucking serious. When?"
He shrugs, "Don't know. I tried to tell him to wait but from the tone of it… Might be anytime starting from today until the end of December."
"And he is staying?"
"Until Yuki leaves, most likely."
Everything else does not need to be said. Utahime knows about Nanako's schemes, but she gave Suguru too much credit, assuming he would shut down the idea as soon as he hears the basics. That was her mistake, which she realizes now.
"Get out of my restaurant," she says with the deadly air around her. Suguru knows when to oblige and leave while his limbs are still all attached.
Suguru always plans a little extra for Saturdays. Kids are not in school and get to work early, so they have extra hands right away to start the day with more energy. This time, Suguru planned to spend some time in the office making sense of the ledgers and creating a plan for the new year. He also needed to make a couple of calls and, of course, read that damn application Nanako submitted.
As it is, Suguru has to start by checking on Mimiko and handling the reception for half an hour because no way he believes in her unaffected demeanour. She has some years of practice ahead of her before she masters the art of shaking it off, and that is fine. For now, she can take as many breaks as she needs and help Yuji with stripping rooms.
Besides the arrivals and the phone calls at the desk asking for obscene discounts and some incoming people who cannot read and mix the doors with the diner, Suguru also has a slight headache and a mission to find the reservation info for room Nine. He prays to the gods that whoever got them in actually saved the credit card details correctly.
He is between a guest who arrived four hours early, another one checking out, a bouncing email regarding deep cleaning fees to room Nine and a yelling Nanako in the yard when Satoru shows up.
It is 11 am, and Suguru is sure the email address of room Nine is bullshit; he just texted Yuji to prepare a room for arrival in literally five minutes or less, and there is this very charming guy in front of him, scratching the back of his head with a kind smile and saying, "Not whining or anything, just wanted to let you know you might wanna check in the room above me," which is Nine, naturally. Suguru winces.
"Were they that loud?" and the guy chuckles in response.
"Eh, nothing fantastical, I've encountered worse. But I'm pretty sure they broke something there. I woke up from a little paint dust falling off the ceiling on me. Just wanted to let you know to check." And this is when overtaking the sound of Nanako arguing with someone on the phone outside, a bang is followed by a car siren with a loud "Whoops!" on top. Suguru lets out a long breath and smiles at the customer, taking his room keys back.
"I appreciate your understanding. Thank you."
"No worries at all! Now I gotta go because I'm pretty sure that is my car," the guy nods towards the exit. Suguru silently prays they did not damage a guest's vehicle on top of all the other shit today when he steps around the desk to open the door outside for the guy and is met with a ridiculous bouquet in his face.
"Surprise!" Satoru chants like his arrival is ever stealthy enough to surprise anyone. Suguru blinks at him as if he opened to Satoru holding a gun. "Long time no see Suguru!"
"Satoru," Suguru answers back out of habit as Nanako yells a belated, "Fuckface is here!"
Satoru winces slightly but still yells a "Thanks, Nana!" her way before turning back to Suguru and asking, "I thought you guys had a swear jar?"
"It got stolen," Suguru answers like an idiot, palm still on the door handle. Satoru laughs back.
"I love this place so much."
"Very sorry to squeeze in between you guys," the guest says from Suguru's side before pointing outside, behind Satoru's shoulder, "But that is my car."
Satoru turns his head with the dumbest "Ah" you ever hear from a man with a master's degree. "My bad, buddy. I swear, did not hit it, just kinda fell on it when getting this baby out of the back seat," he shakes the bundle of flowers slightly while the guy passes by him.
"Thank you for staying! Hope to see you back soon!" Suguru says to the guy as he retreats and gets a wave back, which fills him with gratitude for some reason. Not completely fucking up at least one thing today feels like a blessing.
"So," Satoru drawls from Suguru's side now, "who's the lucky guy? Do we like him, do we hate him?"
Suguru rubs his eyes with three fingers and turns to Nanako, perched on a concrete parking curb by the diner's doors. The girl sees his face, and all the courage drops from her shoulders.
"Nanako, if you are done with your conversation, could you please help me at the front?" Suguru says, and both of them know it is not a question. She slides into the door by him right away, and Suguru lets himself look at the gray winter sky above before turning around once again to face Satoru. "Hi."
"Hello," Satoru says with a smile, his features registering with Suguru for the first time today. Messy hair, probably from driving with fully open windows, but a clean and freshly pressed white shirt. He tilts his head to let his glasses slide down his nose and looks Suguru in the eye. "Did I come at the wrong time?"
Technically, Satoru was not supposed to show up until a week from now, so yes. But Suguru is not the kind of person to say that out loud. He just sighs.
"We are having a morning."
"Gotcha. Can I help?"
Suguru looks him up and down, to which Satoru takes a step back, rolls his shoulders and straightens his back, like a horse at a showing. It makes Suguru smile for a second. "What are the flowers for?"
Before Satoru can answer, Yuji makes a showstopping appearance once again, this time barrelling down the staircase above the entrance with a rattle.
"Hey, Boss! I got your text! It is all goo- Is that Gojo-sensei?!"
Yuji freezes on the last step as he takes in the sight of Satoru by the front door before screeching and jumping towards them.
"Itadori!" Satoru yells back, flowers hitting Suguru's chest with a thud.
"Gojo-sensei!" Satoru taught Yuji how to pirate a game exactly once and got an honourable title forever. The only time Satoru received respect for something he actually did. They leap towards each other, collapsing in a failed attempt at an intricate fist-bump greeting that ends in an aggressive hug.
"Is that a new bandana? Looks so sick!"
"Thanks! I got three of these. Do you want one?"
"Hell yeah! We'll match!"
"Yeah!"
Yuji looks like a kid again whenever he is very happy. His eyes go shut from how much emotion he experiences, and the smile takes half his face. Suguru is surprised to see Satoru next to the boy because they look so much alike when they smile genuinely.
The reception phone rings inside, reminding Suguru of the space he is in. He looks to the side, where the guest looks at the wall clock impatiently.
"Hey, Yuji," Suguru says faintly, interrupting whatever greeting ritual includes Satoru pulling Yuji's bandana down to his eyes and rubbing his hair onto his forehead. Both look up with identical startled faces. "Did you come to talk about something? How is the room going?"
"Oh shoot. Yeah!" Yuji straightens up, fixing his bandana and reports like a soldier (he always dials up his goofiness next to certain people; he loves it when Satoru giggles at his actions), "That one's ready. I only need to get supplies away from the door, one minute!"
He flies up the stairs to the second level, and Suguru breathes out relief as the impatient asshole of a new guest just assumes the room he overheard about is for him and gathers his things to go up. Before he gets to the door and Suguru gets to remind him to pick up the keys, Yuji hangs down the railing and yells, "Also, Geto-san! I will need some help with the sex dungeon after all!"
"Teens and their humour these days," Suguru mumbles to the guest, who stays completely unconvinced as Satoru barks a single laugh out. "This is a joke," Suguru repeats to the guest again, trying to salvage the situation as he slams the bouquet back into Satoru's face, hoping he will choke on it.
"This room is better to be quiet and away from your jokes," the guy grunts back, walking past Suguru, and at least that part of his task list is over now.
It takes a couple of breaths and a second to brush the irritation away. As soon as the guy gets up the stairs and disappears in search of his room, Satoru clears his throat next to Suguru.
"You know... if you accidentally point at this guy's car…"
"Satoru."
"What!" Satoru quacks, raising his hands, petals flowing around in the air. "I'm just saying! Accidents happen," he lowers his voice with a grin, "some people just get their tires slashed, both accidentally and at the right time. Karma!"
"You've been here for less than five minutes."
"And I can already tell he pissed you off. It is my responsibility and duty to teach such dickheads a lesson."
"You are in the role too early. No need for theatrics."
"As your best friend! Have I not earned the right to slay your enemies by my unwavering loyalty?! Do you want me to die, Suguru?" Satoru widens his eyes and hunches his shoulders, a picture of the sad discovery. "Be honest. Do you really want me to go to the river and drown myself?"
Suguru swipes a stray hair off his face.
"Keep yapping like this, and I'll help you."
Satoru grins, "Exactly. This is what friendship is for! Helping out! I knew you would get it, Suguru. You are so quick!" He goes to pat Suguru on the head, which is the worst thing to do right now, and Suguru swats his hand away. "By the way, what was that about the sex dungeon? You guys finally taking my advice?"
Suguru groans theatrically, and the whole parking lot can hear Satoru's laugh.
Yesterday 11:58 pm
Shoko: little birdie told me someone is finally in love
Shoko: do you accept verbal congratulations or should i write a card?
Shoko: took you fucking ages, but big sister is still here to teach you about protection and the meaning of lovebombing
Your little birdie is a fucking narc
Shoko: damn right she is!
Today 2:01 am
Shoko: please tell me when gojo gets there i need to witness this mess
Shoko: i will pay for all the footage i can get my hands on im begging on my knees
He will not come down until at least December 20. Stop being so talkative, you are freaking me out.
Shoko: can't help it, i love a circus when it comes to town
Shoko: did you tell him already? 20 seems like a fucking stretch wanna bet on this week?
Please can we just stop talking and go to sleep?
We are all grown ups I told him it is a simple favour, he will be here on the 20
Also when are you going to return my books? You have four now
Shoko: the connection fucking sucks here dude can't hear a damn thing you are saying
How much did you drink Shoko?
Read
Today 11:34 am
I guess he is here now.
Shoko: HA!!
Having Satoru Gojo as a roommate in the first year of uni felt like a test of faith.
Suguru could tell right away they would not get along easily, and it would require a lot of effort to make this work.
But he genuinely could not hold his tongue when returning to the dorm after finding out his new roommate had already moved in today and seeing that godawful rug.
"Why?" was the word that got out before he could compose himself. In the centre of their shared living space, between two beds, was an uneven blob of colours with a texture that looked like this rug could bite you. Lime green, pink and blue, but in such a bad clash of tones, it felt like a seizure to look at.
His new roommate looked up from his console with a quite startled look before narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. "What?"
"This thing," Suguru pointed at the rug. Why does a thing like this exist. "Why is it here?"
"Because I brought it?" The roommate says like Suguru is stupid. "You have something to say about it?"
"It's ugly."
The roommate gawks at him, jaw barely holding on for a couple of seconds. Then he finds his voice for a brief second before it cracks.
"No, it's not!"
"But it is."
"It's not! Are you blind or stupid?"
Suguru sits down on his bed, migraine already building up from the long days and anxiety before the first day of lectures.
"Listen… What's your name, by the way?"
"Satoru Gojo," Gojo tilts his chin up in a challenge.
"Listen, Gojo."
"Satoru."
"What?"
"Call me Satoru," he corrects Suguru like he is offended, still being an asshole, and the dissonance between the form and content of the conversation confuses Suguru even further. Frustration builds, but the irony balances it out.
"Anyway. I think we should figure out some kind of compromise. I honestly don't have time for this, and this thing is giving me a migraine."
Satoru scoffs, "Whatever."
So stubborn and confrontational about the smallest shit. That carpet fight lasted almost two days, only for Suguru to find out Satoru's mother told him it was fashionable and instructed him to have it in the middle of the room.
"Why the fuck would you listen? Can't you see it's monstrous?" Suguru is too tired to laugh. But Satoru is wincing like a house of cards folding.
"I mean…"
Suguru surprises himself with a giggle he lets out. It is a happy thing, a genuine expression of fun he did not know he was experiencing.
"You are kidding me! Do you not have any taste in you?"
Satoru looks so startled, eyebrows high and mouth slightly open. His glasses rest on the button of his shirt, slightly pulling it down on his thin shoulders. Suguru doesn't believe himself to be a mean person; he always was the wise and well-tempered one back home. For a quick second, he feels guilty for laughing at another person, but then Satoru grins like he struck gold and bites back.
"If you knew how much this thing costs, you would not yap about fucking taste. My shit's exquisite."
"Stil fucking ugly though. I don't give a shit how expensive it is. I do not want it in my room."
"Well, it's my room too."
"Do you like it that much?"
"Honestly hate this thing."
"Then why did you fucking bring it?!" They've been here three times before in the last twenty hours. But this time, Satoru doesn't change the subject or deflect.
"Because my family likes flexing with the money, and they need me to impress my roommate so he fucking knows who he's dealing with."
"Well, I'm not impressed, and I don't need an ugly rug to know I'm dealing with a goddamn child." Satoru laughs. He throws himself back, landing on the carpet with his shoulders and grabs at it with his hand.
"She bought it just for this occasion. So I could bring it here and have it as an attention grabber."
Suguru hunches his shoulders at the desk.
"Your mother?"
"Yeah," Satoru turns his face to bury one cheek in the fake fur. "Wanna destroy this thing?"
Suguru abandons his book and pencil immediately. "I thought you'd never come to your senses."
Satoru cackles, and they cut the thing with a dull knife to use a small part as a bath mat in the common shower. One piece Satoru tries to burn, triggering the fire alarm on the third day after move-in, and the rest ends up in the dumpster, the smell of burnt rubber base lingering in their room for several weeks after.
They could make it work, but it would take a lot of time and strained vocal cords.
Satoru makes a show of handing a flower from his pile to every girl he meets on their way to lunch. It is a relatively slow Saturday, so they are having a lunch meeting at the bar in the diner. Satoru reserves one tiny carnation for Suguru, and the rest of the mess of wilted flowers gets the loudest entrance the moment Satoru sees Utahime behind the bar.
"Oh, the North star in the dark skies! Finally, we are joined once again! How long has it-"
"Cut it, Gojo!" Utahime snaps with a tray under her arm. "I will not hesitate to hit you."
"But how could you? I brought you a gift!" The flowers look kind of sad when arriving in Utahime's hands as she looks at them.
"What the fuck."
"I missed you!" Satoru sits on one of the stools, elbows on the tabletop, holding his cheeks in palms. "Is it that hard to believe? How've you been?"
The kids trickle into the diner. Nobara serves one family in the far corner of the dining hall while Mimiko, Yuji, Nanako, and freshly clocked-in Maki gather around with their packed lunches. Yuji receives an egg sandwich from the kitchen, which he splits with Nobara.
Utahime lets Nanako behind the bar to make the announcement.
"Alright, people," she claps twice to gather the attention. "I have a couple of updates for you, so you better listen. So, as you may have already noticed, we have an additional jerk in our rows today."
"Hell yeah, I'm part of the team!" Satoru chirps.
Yuji makes a sound before he can swallow his sandwich. "Hey! Don't be mean to Gojo-sensei! What did he do to you?"
"None of your business," Nanako huffs. "If you could not interrupt, that would be great, thanks."
Satoru sighs and drapes his arm across Suguru's shoulders, "She is so grown-up and bossy. Just like you."
Suguru sighs and doesn't argue. Satoru could not be more wrong about everything but now is not the time.
"Ok, so before we derail this, we have an important stay coming up in a week," Nanako announces. Nobara steps back from the other table to reach by Yuji for his food. She turns her head up as the following words settle. "We have an influencer stay on December 22. She will stay for three or four nights, we are still negotiating the details."
"Well, are you gonna tell us who it is?" Nobara demands. "Do I know them? Do I follow them? What the hell did they forget here?"
"Nobara," Utahime scolds, and the girl quiets down. Yuji snickers and immediately receives a pinch on his ear.
"The influencer is Yuki Tsukumo. She is pretty popular for lifestyle content and has been doing a series on hidden destinations. We were chosen as one of the contestants in her end-of-year destination competition."
Geto wanted to read the entry this morning before this meeting to at least try contributing, but it has gone off the rails. He can see the recognition sparkle in Utahime's eyes at hearing the name, but she doesn't interrupt. Nobara does though.
"Wait! I know her! You mean she is coming here?!"
Nanako smiles. "Exactly. That's why we have to be on our top game. We have a week to prepare. The best room, and the best food, and she will use the waters, so we gotta deep clean the spring baths as well. I will be finalizing her menu and room preferences today and will share everything needed by tomorrow. The finalists of the competition will get a feature on all her pages, including one video, at least five stories during her stay and two posts. And the winner gets the money."
"How much money?" Maki cuts in immediately. Nanako stumbles, glancing at Suguru briefly.
"It is enough," Suguru takes over for a second. Girls do have enough freedom to run the place but not the books. "If, and it is a big if, we win, most of the prize funds will go into the motel and diner budget, including covering additional expenses we will take on for supplies for this stay and to help with running the operation. But I will make sure everyone gets a bonus in case we land a place in the finals."
"And I will cover dinner for everyone!" Satoru chimes in, still hanging off Suguru. "You guys work so hard you deserve a treat for New Year's."
A synchronous hell yeah! comes from Nobara and Yuji, with a smile from Mimiko. Satoru winks at the girl.
"And while we are still on it, there is one important detail," Nanako says, crossing her arms on her chest and teasing the fabric of her sweater sleeve with short nails. Her posture changes slightly, and when she turns to Suguru again, he raises his eyebrows.
She did take her time to come clean to Suguru, but that evening she was high on excitement and just blurted it out before she could think twice. This time, surrounded by a bunch of people in the light of day, Suguru recognizes the slight blush on her face. But he does not spare her, only smiles, looking her in the eyes: if we are doing it, we are taking accountability for our actions and getting embarrassed together. Nanako cringes and Suguru almost thinks she will give up, but she is stubborn.
In the next moment, she huffs out a breath and pushes it out, "There is one more thing about this competition. Tsukumo's brand is all about personality and stories. She loves making everything personal and getting deep into her content. Aside from it being a competition to bring engagement to our pages and drive sales, she will want to get to know us and our stories. When we applied for this spot, I did… I did exaggerate parts of the history of this place to make it more engaging. And since it landed us a spot in the competition, you all are now accomplices and just have to roll with it, no questions asked."
"Which parts were those exactly?" Nobara asks, and Suguru braces for impact. Utahime knows because she is basically Suguru's business partner. She found out from their shared email inbox and threatened Nanako to come clean to Suguru in hopes the whole thing would go away. Satoru is vibrating in his seat, so excited for the news.
Nanako closes her eyes for a second. Then she blows her bangs away from her eyes with resolve and looks Nobara in the eye. "I lied on the application to involve an appealing personal story. I wrote that Geto got the place with his partner and that we are a big family. It is a love story."
"She is so creative," Satoru breathes out with a smile, and Suguru cannot hold back, finally smacking him upside the head. "Ow!"
All eyes are on them.
"And now Gojo is here," Nobara says flatly.
"Don't tell me you are doing this," Maki mumbles.
"Hey! What do you mean?" Satoru says while Yuji looks around, a bit lost.
"Listen, guys," Suguru raises his hands with a smile. "I know this looks silly."
"It is hilarious, actually," Utahime says, not even smiling.
"Whatever you say," Suguru nods. "But here is the thing. What's done is done, we cannot turn time back. The application was signed with a disclosure that all the info is truthful. Finding otherwise will disqualify the contestant. And we… We really need some money and exposure."
"This fall hasn't been that great for our engagement," Nanako chimes in but quiets immediately when Suguru looks at her. "Sorry."
"Are we in shit now?"
"Not necessarily. But we need higher numbers next quarter if we want to continue running as usual."
"He means we might need to let some people go if it doesn't get better," Utahime says, matter-of-fact as usual. She shoos Nanako from behind the bar and starts refilling juice glasses in front of them. "And I know for most of you this is a part-time gig to save some pocket money, but for us it is important. Getting rid of even one spot will add pressure on the remaining people and strain the whole operation. Making it work will be more difficult and not as fun as you have it now."
"It's not like I have a problem with lying," Nobara says. "None at all. Just wanted to know the extent of it."
"The extent of it is that we need extra advertising," Suguru says.
"And Geto will be un-single for a week to make that happen," Nanako smiles. "It will be fun, guys! We'll laugh about this when it ends."
"Oh, so that's why Gojo-sensei is here!" Yuji aaaahhh's and points in between Suguru and Satoru. "For the love story part?!"
"Finally, he got it," Maki mumbles.
"Hey, watch it," Nobara points at her. "He's been up since 6 am, Itadori's tired, and you just got here. Don't tempt me."
"Yes, and for this upcoming week, the story is that Gojo's been here the whole time."
"Yup! And that's why I'm visiting. You can joke all you want and get it out of your systems before that woman shows up," Satoru says, suddenly serious. "I thought I would help around with preparations as well."
"Just say you need an excursion so you don't get lost and give the whole lie away the first minute," Maki grumbles. Satoru smiles at her.
"You may not know, but I've been here from before Suguru got this place. I may not be an actual partner, but I was part of the reason he overtook the place."
He says it so proudly, as if it is not a sad story of failure. Suguru lets it be. It is the truth, after all.
It was a challenging time - their first semester.
Suguru had constant nightmares and anxiety-driven gut problems. He couldn't keep up with all the reading required for every class. Law school looked and sounded noble from his tiny high school in a rural town with no actual law students to talk to. Here he quickly found out all law students were either clinically depressed, pathological assholes or a combination of both.
Living with Satoru Gojo did not make it easier. The guy was not adjusted at all. They had to fight almost every day because Satoru had no concept of washing dishes or doing laundry. They had ants in the first month of living together that never quite went away until Suguru left the dorms.
Satoru was a loud, overbearing presence, always snappy, always with something to say. He required constant attention and was also accidentally smart at things he was not supposed to be smart at.
"You are an infantile, rude piece of-"
"Are you actually mad at me?" Satoru interrupts their fight above the rotting dishes once. "Or are you mad at something I have that you don't? Because it sure does feel like I can never do anything right. Are you jealous or something?"
It struck a nerve back then because of how ridiculous it sounded. Suguru had a right to his anger. It was a list of actual problems, which were easily avoidable if his stupid roommate would just cooperate and listen. It was also fucking maddening because yes! It was obvious Satoru grew up with no understanding of hard work. Never had to think about money, never had to stitch his shirts and work after school. Suguru hated coming to a filthy room with the faint sweet smell of spoiled food never going away, but what he hated more was how relaxed Satoru appeared. How he never felt stressed or challenged, while Suguru wanted to cry every morning on the way to class.
He was so intelligent and kind back home, this is who he was, his core. Suguru's parents sold their car to get him into school because three years of working part-time was not enough to save for the tuition fees. They were so proud, bragging to neighbours when Suguru got his acceptance letter. And here he is, struggling to pass, having nightmares from court document readings and feeling like a complete failure compared to other students. Yes, he is smart, catches stuff quickly and has decent problem-solving thinking. But most of them so obviously had help preparing them before coming here. They read half the curriculum with tutors their parents paid for, and Suguru was behind from the very start of the race.
He hates those kids. Hates how they pretend shit's easy.
He hates what they stand for and how similar Satoru is to them.
He got this part-time gig at a diner by a motel on the edge of the city merely to not be in his room and to get a distraction. Doing something with your hands for once feels so comforting. He stands behind the hot station, washes dishes and assists with evening rushes.
The distance between the diner and the dorms is not accidental: Suguru has enough time to read part of his homework on the bus and the train before he has to come home to a new disaster and gets sidetracked. He likes it, and the boss is a decent dude, giving workplaces to a bunch of teenagers without expecting them to make this job their priority.
Suguru enjoys coming home smelling of frying oil, with tiny burns on his fingers. Makes him feel useful compared to the failure of his academic achievements. It is nice to turn off his brain for a bit and pretend nothing outside this line of orders matters.
Maybe two months into the semester, Suguru comes home late in the evening after a Sunday shift with a heap of notes ready from his bus ride prepared to structure them for tomorrow's class when he gets greeted by Satoru at the door.
"Where were you?" Gojo asks like he has the right to know Suguru's every movement.
"What do you need, Satoru," pushing past him, Suguru sighs and drops the bag on his bed by the window. He has to step over a large pile of clothes on the floor, but at least this time it is not spread across the whole area of their shared living space. Gojo closes the door behind him and turns around with his arms crossed.
"Don't you think this job is too demanding of you? Going who knows where until so late in the evening on the weekend? You have schoolwork to do."
"Doesn't mean I have to do it here," Suguru says, annoyed. Questioning Suguru's free time as if he is not the main reason he got that job in the first place. "Not like I get anything done when I'm here. Did you need anything? Or you were waiting by the door to reprimand me?" Satoru frowns stubbornly, and Suguru turns away. "Thought so."
It is a sour and sticky feeling. Suguru hates not being able to relax in the place that is supposed to be his home. He can't relax at school or the dorm; the only place he feels any modicum of safety is the commute between these horrible places.
Suguru kind of misses home, but the mere thought of going back makes him nauseous. He doesn't want to go back. He just wants to be alone and stop the time so he can take a nap and just… catch up. Stop running for a second. Stop pushing through and pretend nothing gets him.
Some time passes before Suguru notices the quiet. He determinedly ignored the room around and dived into his notes, not even getting up from the bed, without washing his hands or doing anything else. He can be just as stubborn. He is done with the first two pages when he notices it. It is awfully quiet, almost still.
Suguru raises his eyes. He knows Satoru never left the room, but he did not move from the door either.
Satoru's hands fell from their firm position and found a place at his sides, shoulders slightly raised, almost shy. He is still looking Suguru's way, but more at the foot of his bed than the boy himself.
"What is it?" Suguru asks. "Something happened?"
Satoru doesn't answer at first, his gaze only slightly wavering to the side but returning to Suguru's face within a couple of seconds. He is so infuriating. Having something to say but too stubborn to say it and making it Suguru's problem. It's been a while since Suguru was last forced to spend time with a person quite so successful at ticking him off. But he just can't ignore Satoru anymore, he has to pop the pressure in the room.
"I swear to god, Satoru-"
"I ate an ant," Satoru blurts out.
Suguru blinks.
"You what?"
Satoru sighs and shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants.
"I think I accidentally ate an ant today."
Suguru howls with laughter. He can't help it - the thing is violent and merciless, like an earthquake. His whole body shakes, and Suguru is forced to hold himself up on the bed, or he will topple over.
"Sorry, sorry," he covers his face, but the giggles don't stop. This is so stupid. "I promise you, it's not-"
"No, it's funny, I get it," Satoru grumbles. "Fucking hysterical."
"Ok, ok, I'm," another wave of laughter hits him again, and Suguru waves a hand before calming himself down again. "Sorry, continue. I really want to hear this."
Satoru looks to the side, trying to play it cool, but his ears are a bright red. It is delightful.
"Nothing to hear. I ate a fucking ant and realized that… maybe you were right. But when I went downstairs, the fucking machine…" he doesn't finish the sentence, but it's not hard to put two and two together.
"Have you ever used a laundry machine before, Satoru?" all irritation is gone, and Suguru desperately wants to hear more. He loves this small moment of victory and recognizes how much confidence it takes to say stuff Satoru is saying. It is a neat moment - Suguru wants to enjoy it.
Satoru's shoulders slide even higher as he shifts his gaze to his bed and the huge laundry pile next to it. "Not the cheap shit like this." It is a lie, both of them know it, and Suguru is okay with that. He sits there, still giggling quietly, until Satoru runs out of patience and turns to him with a pinched face, barely holding back a smile of his own. "So, are you going to laugh at me like a jerk or show me how to use that thing?"
The first cigarette of the day smoked at the first moment of solitude in the whole day at 2:30 pm behind the motel building in the cold sometimes is enough to resurrect a lost soul, Suguru feels.
He breathes the frosty December air like a drowning man and loves every second of the quiet surrounding him. Only the empty tree branches snapping in the wind from time to time. A heavenly retreat.
Satoru refused to sit the fuck down and wait for shit to slow down at the hotel, as could be expected. After Utahime kicked him out of the diner for loitering, he rolled up his sleeves to help Yuji cram the remaining rooms. Then he took Itadori on a quick drive to the store to get the missing supplies for the sex dungeon.
Suguru has to stop referring to the thing by that name, or it will stick. Room Nine is one of the best in their inventory: second floor, corner looking out to the stream behind the building, away from the road. It is a room for special occasions and would be ideal to give Yuki. Suguru hopes they can restore it and return to normal in a couple days.
He leaves the cigarette between his teeth and gets the phone out of his pocket. Yuji texted that they would take 15 more minutes to come back, Nanako sent pictures of the lawn area in the back yard that needs trimming and the bath tiles to clean from algae. Suguru swipes past them and clicks on the third text.
Today 11:58 am
Shoko: all jokes aside let me know if you need a pair of hands. my weekends are free since you stole my girlfriend from me
Not my fault she doesn ' t want to spend Saturdays with you
And thank you.
We are okay for now, but I appreciate it.
Shoko: np, just for you to keep in mind.
Shoko: think you can survive a week like this?
Suguru looks up to the sky, grey clouds barely moving above. There is a lot Shoko is referring to in that question, and he has no idea how to even start answering it.
He has to.
He pockets his phone until better times, switches the cigarette to the other corner of his lips and starts walking back towards the back entrance. Smoke break's over.