Chapter Text
“Do you know who I am?” The boy in front of him asks, his eyes sparkling as he towers over Suguru.
“No.” He deadpans, before exchanging a glance with the girl as if to say, Is this guy for real?
The boy is apparently unphased. He already annoys Suguru. Figures, he discovers he’s a sorcerer , he uproots his life to move to Tokyo of all places, but now he has to spend the next four years of it with some stuck up, rich, entitled little prick. What luck Suguru has.
“I’m Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo clan, the strongest sorcerer in the world!” He says, unaware or uncaring of Suguru’s plight. “You can call me Satoru!”
Suguru may as well kill himself now, because that would be better than spending even another minute in the presence of the so-called strongest sorcerer in the world.
“Geto Suguru.” He replies dryly. “Please call me Geto.”
“I’m Ieiri Shoko,” says the last member of their class. “Don’t call me anything.”
Well. Isn’t this just lovely, Suguru thinks. The next four years are going to make him either homicidal or suicidal.
Their teacher, Yaga, who Suguru has forgotten was even there, clears his throat. “Introductions are done; I’ll leave you all to get to know one another. Classes will start promptly tomorrow morning, and I look forward to working with you all and watching you become a team.”
He leaves, and Gojo immediately slings his arms around Suguru and Ieiri, pulling them both close to him.
“We’re gonna be more than a team, Suguru, Shoko,” he whispers conspiratorially. “We’re gonna be best friends!”
Suguru groans inwardly and maybe outwardly too as he wrestles himself out of Gojo’s grip. His eye twitches. Does this guy not understand basic respect? Ieiri rolls her eyes.
“Clearly you don’t know how to make friends.” She says, glaring at him. Suguru agrees, silently. He’s dealt with enough rich boys who think daddy’s money will buy them anything they want, including friends, and he doesn’t want to deal with another while he’s here. From what he’s heard, he’ll be busy enough with cursed spirits and other sorts of monsters that sound like they’re from movies.
Gojo’s face falls, and his arms drop from their shoulders.
“Right. Sorry, you’re right. Um, I’m gonna go, uh, unpack.”
And with that he’s gone, leaving Suguru and Ieiri staring after him.
“What a weird guy,” Ieiri remarks.
“Insufferable, I think you mean,” Suguru replies.
Ieiri hums, shrugs, then pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her pockets and offers one to Suguru.
His teammates are an insane idiot, and an antisocial smoker. Is it too late to leave?
He shakes his head. “No thank you. I think I should probably also unpack, get settled in.”
“If you say so.” Ieiri says, tilting her head. “Have fun.”
Suguru walks to his new room. There isn’t much to unpack. He has uprooted his entire life and all he has to show for it is a little suitcase full of clothes and a few books.
He realises that he shouldn’t have zoned out while Yaga was showing him around, because he only seems to know where his room is. And now he has to ask Gojo. Who is the room next door to him. He absently thinks that he might just be the unluckiest person in the world.
Suguru knocks on the door.
“It’s unlocked,” Gojo calls from inside.
“Sorry to bother you, Gojo–”
“Suguru!” Gojo exclaims. His whole face lights up as he leaps off his bed, which would be cute if he weren’t such an asshole.
He grabs Suguru’s arm, dragging him to his bed.
“Sorry Gojo, I can’t stay–”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me Satoru?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then why are you calling me by my family name?”
“It’s polite. We’re hardly friends.”
Gojo blinks, dumbfounded.
“I only came to ask if you know where the bathroom is.” Suguru says, now that Gojo has finally shut up.
“Blegh, you’re so uptight!” Gojo crows, though his words have less conviction behind them than usual.
“What?”
“Call me Satoru! If we’re gonna be a team, we should be friends from now.”
“Ieiri was right, you have no idea how to make friends. I just wanted to know where the bathroom is.”
Gojo looks down. “Sorry. Go down the hall and turn left, it’s the first door there.”
“Thank you,” Suguru says, getting up to leave.
“Wait, Suguru.”
Gojo grabs his wrist.
Suguru turns around, scowling.
“Sorry, Geto,” Gojo corrects. “Am I really that bad at making friends?”
Suguru opens his mouth, but finds he has no words. He closes it. How the hell is he supposed to answer a question like that?
“I’m sorry,” Gojo continues, oblivious. “I… it’s just, you and Shoko are the first people the same age as me that I’ve ever met. Man, I was so excited to have friends that I didn’t realise… I dunno…”
Suguru thinks time has stopped and a little devil has torn his heart in two and spat on it. He takes back everything he has ever said about Gojo.
“The first people? You’ve never had a friend?”
“I wasn’t alone!” Gojo hurries to say. “I did speak to other people.”
“But they were adults? You’ve never met anyone the same age as you?”
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t allowed near anyone the same age as me.”
Suguru’s jaw drops. “What?”
Gojo shrugs, as if this is just a simple truth of his life, which apparently it is. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Are you insane? Are your parents insane? Of course it’s a big deal!” Suguru exclaims. “How could they deprive you of a friend, of anyone, for, what, fifteen years? Why would a parent ever do that to their child?”
“They’re very protective of me.”
“Every parent is protective of their kid! This is just madness! It’s unheard of! Oh my god, if I could fight your parents…”
“You’re overreacting.” Gojo mutters, shaking his head.
“I’m overreacting? You’re not reacting enough! Do you understand how horrible this is?”
Gojo stares at him.
“No child deserves that. You didn’t deserve that. Everyone needs friends.” Suguru adds.
“Does this mean that we’re friends now?” Gojo asks.
Suguru’s heart breaks a little bit more. “Sure, I’ll be your friend.”
Gojo almost squeals and traps Suguru in a ridiculously tight hug. “I’ll be your bestest friend ever!”
So will I,
Suguru thinks, patting Gojo’s arms. He’s got fifteen years to make up for.