Archive of Our Own

₊˚⊹♡

Satoru liked Valentine’s Day.

It was the one time of year when he could sit back and bask in the adoration of his admirers—wherever or whoever they might be. Every year, without fail, he received an overwhelming amount of chocolates, saving him the trouble of spending an agonizing thirty minutes in a store debating which sweets to buy. (It wasn’t his fault! There were too many factors to consider: ingredients, sweetness level, brand, contents, whether he’d tried it before, whether he’d liked it, whether he wanted to try something new, whether—)

Yes, Valentine’s Day was a time of indulgence, teasing, and, most importantly, free sweets.

And Satoru Gojo was going to milk it for all it was worth.

So, naturally, when he spotted Ijichi shuffling through the hallways, shoulders tense as always, Satoru saw an opportunity.

“Hey!” His voice rang out, far too casual, far too mischievous.

Ijichi flinched so hard he nearly dropped the stack of papers in his arms. Spinning around, his face immediately paled at the sight of Satoru sauntering up to him, a sly grin already in place. Before Ijichi could even think of escaping, Satoru had an arm slung over his shoulder.

“So,” he drawled, tilting his head, “Are you going to ask Shoko out this year?”

Ijichi’s reaction was immediate. His face exploded into a deep crimson, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

Ah, classic.

Satoru had found out about Ijichi's crush late last year, and ever since, it had become his new favorite teasing material. It never failed to get a hilarious reaction, and right now, Satoru was already plotting his next move. Maybe a fake love letter from Shoko? Oh, that would be cruel. Cruel and hilarious. He could already imagine the way Ijichi’s face would go from hopeful to devastated in mere seconds.

Satoru giggled to himself, which only made Ijichi sweat more.

Unfortunately for Ijichi, Satoru had another, far more pressing concern today. Satoru suddenly straightens up and he turns to Ijichi, dead serious. “Hey, Ijichi.”

That was never a good sign for anyone other than Satoru. Satoru could see Ijichi freeze, which was pretty funny in of itself. “Y-yes?”

“Lead me to the kitchen.” Satoru commands, what he doesn’t say yet is: you’re going to buy me a bunch of sweets for me to eat and consume!

Satoru did not elaborate. He didn’t need to. He knew Ijichi knew exactly where this was going.

With a look of pure resignation, Ijichi clears his throat nervously and trudges forward with full dread, Satoru trailing behind with a bounce in his step.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Satoru immediately zeroed in on the fridge, yanking the door open. His bright mood soured instantly.

What? Who ate all the cheesecake? Satoru eyebrows furrowed, scanning the shelves. He had saved a slice for later—his slice. Technically it wasn’t a slice and it was the whole cake but still! He was going to eat that later!

Whatever. He slammed the fridge shut and turned to Ijichi, who jumped at the motion. Satoru hadn’t even said anything yet!

“Ijichi,” he pointed at him, tone grave. “This is super duper important! Life changingly-y-y-y  important! Go to the bakery—the one I like. Get me strawberry cheesecake.” He paused, then added, “And don’t eat any of it. It’s top secret. Strictly classified information. If anyone asks, you were never there.”

Ijichi gave him the saddest, most exhausted frown Satoru had ever seen.

Before he could fully process it, a familiar voice piped up from behind.

“Sensei! I can just make the strawberry cheesecake for you!”

Ah, Yuuji!

Satoru turned immediately, face lighting up. He heard Ijichi sigh in relief before scurrying off, but he paid him no mind. Instead, he reached out, ruffling Yuuji’s hair, grinning when the boy leaned into the touch like a happy puppy.

He’s so cute!

Satoru resisted the overwhelming urge to squeeze him. If he hugged Yuuji too tight, there was a very real chance he’d transform into a plush toy right then and there.

“You’d cook for me, Yuuji-kun?” Satoru feigned wide, faux eyes, though he already knew the answer—he can’t help but want to hear it nonetheless. Yuuji was the best cook in the school. Everyone easily agreed upon the fact; especially the meals he made in the basement for Satoru were beyond delicious. Thinking about it made him feel oddly fond.

“Well yeah, duh,” Yuuji said with a shrug, and Satoru can’t help but give the biggest smile back.

“Yuuji,” he cooes, then he laughs—bright. “Well, hm, reserve it for me, ‘kay?”

“Alright sensei!” Yuuji agrees, far too easily. Bobbing his head along before casually adding, “I’m also making chocolates for Valentine’s Day.”

Satoru perked up. Oh?

Wait.

He frowned slightly, something nagging at him. It wasn’t exactly common for a guy to give chocolates on Valentine’s Day—it was typically something girls did, while guys only gave it on White’s Day. That would lead to Satoru concluding that Yuuji was either making a huge batch for the whole school (Yuuji was too adorable! Maybe Satoru will go later and eat all his chocolates, Yuuji would forgive him anyway) or—

“Uh yeah, sensei,” Yuuji answers. But, for some strange reason—a pink tint arises on his cheeks. He averts his eyes from Satoru. “I’m making it for someone else.”

Huh?

Satoru blinked, his thoughts skidding to a halt.

He’s making chocolates for someone else?

Someone else. Does that mean one person? 

Does Yuuji mean one specific individual?

“Do elaborate, Yuuji-kun,” Satoru said, voice deceptively light.

For an odd moment, Yuuji doesn’t answer—his head clearly up in the clouds. He looks as if he’s thinking slowly to form an answer, and Satoru feels a crawling sensation on his back—something he doesn’t like.

Yuuji then looks back at Satoru, a determination is hinted at his gaze and Satoru can’t help but fawn quietly over it.

“I’m going to ask someone out for Valentine’s!” Yuuji announces, he locks eyes with Satoru.

He freezes, all the colour draining from his body.

Yuuji is going to do what?

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

“Yuuji is going to ask someone for Valentine's!” Satoru cries out loud. His voice echoed through the dimly lit morgue. The morgue was eerily silent—aside from the occasional drip of a leaking faucet in the corner and the sound of metal instruments clicking against the steel table. Until of course, Satoru made that announcement.

Across the room, unbothered and fully engrossed in her work, Shoko barely blinked. She sat on a cold metal stool, latex gloves snapping against her wrists as she studied the lifeless body sprawled before her. The corpse—some sorcerer who’d lost their battle—was barely recognizable.

“So?” she asked dryly.

Satoru gaped at her, dramatically clutching his chest. “So? So, that means Yuuji-kun likes someone, Shoko!” He stressed, pacing back and forth as if the very foundation of Jujutsu society was crumbling before him. He tries to urge Shoko to snap out of her senses, all he gets is a merely annoyed side-glance by her.

She hummed in vague acknowledgment, unimpressed. She lazily rolled her shoulders as she adjusted her gloves. “He’s a growing teenager. Normal to have crushes at his age.”

Satoru’s jaw dropped, his blindfold barely keeping his outrage contained. “But as a teacher,” he declared righteously, pointing a dramatic finger in the air, “I must put him on the correct path! I mean, what if—what if Yuuji likes someone who eats humans for a living? Or worse! What if his crush is secretly bald, decrepit, and already married with five children?”

Shoko gives him a flat look.

Satoru folded his arms. “It’s a legitimate concern.”

“Is it?” she deadpanned, returning her attention to the cadaver.

“Look,” Satoru huffed, suddenly feeling defensive. “I did this with Megumi-chan too.”

Shoko snorted lightly at that, not even bothering to hide her amusement. “Yet you didn’t complain for hours about it to me,” she pointed out, peeling off her gloves with a snap and tossing them into the waste bin. “Itadori’s your favorite student.”

Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, obviously.”

And it was! Yuuji was… different. He was a good kid—loyal, full of life, and completely unburdened by the kind of bitterness that usually tainted sorcerers. He laughed at Satoru’s jokes, even when they were awful. He would always find time to care for Satoru, and never once hesitated to indulge his whims. He never treated Satoru like some untouchable god or a terrifying legend—just as Satoru Gojo, his teacher. There was something about him—something warm. Being around Yuuji felt warm. Like a childhood memory. Like sunlight streaming through an open window after months of cold. Like standing at the edge of winter, knowing spring was just around the corner, carrying the promise of cherry blossoms ready to bloom. Like a soft blanket draped over his shoulders after being out in the cold for too long.

For a moment, Satoru furrowed his brows, confused by his own thoughts. He quickly shook it off and refocused, only to notice Shoko watching him with a knowing look.

“And?” she prompted.

Satoru blinked, confused. “And?”

“What you think,” she said slowly, “about your student.”

Satoru pauses, caught off by Shoko’s question.

He frowned. “That he’s my favorite student,” he answered carefully. “And that… oh! I know it now! You’re a genius, Shoko!”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “I am?”

A grin stretched across Satoru’s face, wide and full of excitement, the kind of expression that usually spelled disaster for everyone involved. “I’m going to find the person Yuuji is crushing on! And once I do, I’ll scare them off!”

Shoko didn’t even blink.

“Well,” she said, utterly unimpressed, “don’t include me in this.”

Satoru only laughed, tossing his head back as pure, unfiltered amusement coursed through him. This—this—was perfect! He could literally kiss Shoko right now for giving him this idea—except for the fact that he didn’t want to. Ew. Gross. But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that if he found out who Yuuji’s crush was, he could easily handle the situation. He had plenty of options. A friendly conversation? Sure. Some mild blackmail? Perhaps. Threatening violence? A strong contender. Anything was free rein, after all! The goal was simple: protect Yuuji from inevitable heartbreak and soul-crushing despair.

Because Satoru didn’t want to see Yuuji sad. Not even for a second.

He wanted to see Yuuji happy—laughing that loud, carefree laugh of his. He wanted to see him goofing off with his friends, stuffing his face full of meat like it was his last meal, whining dramatically when Nobara hit him for being an idiot. He wanted Yuuji to keep growing into the kind of sorcerer who could withstand the weight of their world without losing himself in it.

He wanted Yuuji to be focused—on his jujutsu missions, on the life he had carved out for himself. He wanted Yuuji to spend his days not dwelling on the cruel, rotting system they were trapped in. Not thinking about the old geezers who sought to control him. Not thinking about all the ruins left in their wake, the friendships and relationships that would inevitably fall apart in the end. No. None of that.

Satoru just wanted Yuuji to be happy.

…Yep. That was the only reason he was doing this.

Yep, yep, yep, yep—totally.

It definitely wasn’t because—

—It definitely wasn’t—

—Because if he ever saw Yuuji looking at someone else like that, if he ever had to watch him fall for someone who wasn’t him, if he ever had to stand on the sidelines while someone else became the center of Yuuji’s world—

—Nope. Nope nope nope. That wasn’t a thing. Not even a little bit.

What? What a ridiculous thought. Couldn’t be him. Haha. Ha.

“Are you getting out of my room?” she asked, unimpressed, breaking Satoru from his thoughts. She gives him a slow stare from head to toe.

Satoru blinked. “How mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically, but he was already spinning on his heel, heading toward the door with a newfound sense of purpose.

Because he had a mission now. A very important mission. And that mission was finding out who the hell Itadori Yuuji was planning to ask out for Valentine’s! Satoru was going to ace this with a A+, plus, plus! He could already mentally imagine him patting his back and dancing in total victory.  He’s got this! After all, he’s “The Strongest,” he could do this! 

Somewhere, in another part of campus, Yuuji lets out the loudest, most disgusting sneeze of his life. Nobara scooted several feet away, eyeing him in pure horror.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Problem was, practically everyone liked Yuuji.

Except for the old farts—but they don’t count as human—so literally everyone adored Yuuji… which, honestly, was totally understandable! How could you not love the human embodiment of a golden retriever? Satoru sure did.

A bit too much as Satoru thinks about the possible candidates, he thinks about well… everyone.

As he mentally scrolled through potential candidates, his brows furrowed. He thought about… well, everyone. Seriously, everyone? Was there a single person in their vicinity who wasn’t hopelessly fond of Yuuji? Even the grumpiest would warm up to him. It was unnatural.

Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.  Yuuji was running up to anyone and everyone like some kind of overly enthusiastic puppy. And okay, fine, Satoru could admit Yuuji did remind him of a cute puppy sometimes. He even had those big, eager eyes that screamed love me!—and people did! They all loved him! And that was the problem. Satoru was a dog person, sure, but this was getting ridiculous.

With a determined huff, he set his sights on his first victim.

As Megumi inconspicuously reads his non-fiction—bleh, who even reads non-fiction?—on the bench, Satoru smirked. Perfect. 

He crept up behind Megumi with all the stealth he could muster—not that Megumi noticed, too engrossed in whatever boring book he was torturing himself. Satoru then puts his hands on Megumi’s shoulders.

“Boo!” Satoru yells, and Megumi visibly tensed for a millisecond before slowly turning his head to look at him and gives him the most irritated look he can ever give in his entire life. 

Satoru beamed. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” Megumi deadpanned, looking like he regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

Satoru gasped dramatically. “Are you sure? You look like you could’ve pooped your pants.

Megumi gave him the flattest look known to mankind.

Satoru, undeterred (obviously), walks over to flop down onto the bench beside him. Megumi immediately scooted as far away as humanly possible, which only made Satoru lean in closer.

“You see,” Satoru starts, and Megumi inhaled sharply. Then exhaled even sharper. “Valentine's is coming up.”

Megumi blinked once. Then twice. 

“Okay,” Megumi says, slowly. He’s unsure of what to make of any of this.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Satoru probed, wiggling his eyebrows for extra emphasis.

That finally made Megumi look up from his book in excruciating slow motion, like he trying was process this conversation. His eyes held the same energy as someone realizing their entire day just got significantly worse.

Satoru grinned.

Megumi looked like he wanted to throw himself into the sun.

After a long pause, Megumi finally spoke. “…Why?”

“Why?” Satoru repeated, dramatically clutching his chest. “Because, my dear Megumi-chan, love is in the air! People are falling for people left and right! And I have a very important mission to do.”

Megumi blinked. Slowly. Then tilted his head, frowning. “What is it?”

“Do you like Yuuji-kun?” Satoru asked, his tone dead serious.

For a second, silence stretched between them. A long, painfully awkward silence.

Megumi just stared. Long and hard. Like he was trying to comprehend what had just been said to him. Like he wanted to bury himself six feet under just to escape this conversation.

“I don’t even know what possessed you into saying that,” Megumi finally snapped, his brows twitching. “Why would I like Itadori in that type of way?”

“Very simple, actually,” Satoru explained with the confidence of a man who had never been wrong a day in his life. He clasped his hands together. “You see, Yuuji wants to ask someone.”

Megumi squinted. “…Okay.”

“For Valentine’s.”

And just like that, Megumi was done. Without another word, he stood up and started walking away. Satoru, of course, teleported in front of him.

“Don’t you care about him?” he pressed.

Megumi exhaled through his nose in that deeply exasperated way that suggested he was about two seconds away from either committing a crime or completely shutting down emotionally.

“I do care about him,” Megumi said flatly, “which is why I’m walking away before you say something stupid.”

Satoru gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like Megumi had just stabbed him. “Wow. That’s the gratitude I get for trying to include you in this very important investigation?”

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed even harder. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Satoru blinked. Paused. Processed.

Huh.

For the first time, Megumi watched as Satoru short-circuited just a little. He could see the moment it took Satoru an extra couple of seconds to catch up, like a computer freezing before suddenly rebooting. But of course, it didn’t last long.

Satoru shook it off, like being caught off guard had never happened. “But Megumi,” he whined, voice dipping into a petulant tone, “don’t you have social awareness? If Yuuji didn’t say it outright, then why would he ever, you know… tell me?”

Megumi’s expression did something interesting. His lips parted slightly. His brows twitched, ever so subtly. His mouth hung open for just a second—like he had something to say but had no idea how to say it.

And then, “You’re the last person to talk about social awareness.”

Satoru blinked at him with the most innocent expression he could muster, tilting his head slightly as if he genuinely had no clue what Megumi was talking about. Megumi glared at him.

“And besides,” he added, crossing his arms, “Itadori doesn’t like me… at least, not in that way.”

Satoru hummed, rubbing his chin. “Hmm… how do you know?”

Megumi rolled his eyes so hard he practically saw another dimension. “Maybe because I know the guy?”

Satoru remained unconvinced, humming thoughtfully.

“And also,” Megumi continued, tone dry, “it’s kind of obvious. He always calls me ‘brother’ and stuff.”

Huh. Satoru blinked. Okay, fine. That actually made sense.

At least Megumi was off the table! Phew!

Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, feeling like he had just dodged a massive emotional train wreck. Could you imagine if Yuuji liked Megumi? That would be—

Horrible. Catastrophic.

The worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever.

First of all, if Yuuji did like Megumi, Satoru would have no choice but to violently shake him by the shoulders and demand to know why. What possible reason could there be? Megumi looked way too much like his father, and therefore—by the power of logic and deduction—was way too ugly.

And let’s be real, Megumi lacked ambition. Satoru was sure Yuuji would want a partner with dreams, with drive, with passion! 

And the compatibility?! Zero.

Yuuji loved manga. He loved fun, action-packed, over-the-top stories. If you gave him an anime with a single cool transformation sequence, he’d call it a masterpiece. Meanwhile, the closest thing to “entertainment” Megumi consumed was watching a 12-hour National Geographic documentary about tigers.

What would their dates even look like?

Yuuji says, “Hey, wanna watch this cool anime?”

Megumi denies, with a boring face. “No, I’m busy watching a lion slowly stalk a gazelle for three hours.”

Terrible.

So yes. Megumi was out.

But Satoru couldn’t celebrate just yet. He still had work to do.

He sighed, already feeling exhausted at the thought of his next victim. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it.

He frowned just thinking about it.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

“Yo Nanamin,” Satoru says casually. Nanami slowly pauses from looking at his watch and turns to greet him.

Nanami barely spared him a glance, pausing only briefly to check his watch. “Gojo-san.”

Short. Curt. Not a single ounce of enthusiasm. Typical.

But Satoru wasn’t here to be liked. He was here to pry.

He squinted at Nanami, gaze sharp. Observing him.

Satoru had never expected it.

At first, he thought Nanami would barely tolerate Yuuji—maybe even find him annoying. After all, Nanami was serious, no-nonsense, and allergic to anything even remotely fun. Meanwhile, Yuuji was, well… Yuuji. Bright, loud, full of energy. A golden retriever of a human being.

It should’ve been like oil and water. But nope.

Nanami was weirdly fond of him.

And Yuuji? Yuuji loved working with Nanami. Practically idolized him. It was bizarre. It made no sense. But it was real.

Satoru had seen it happen. The way Nanami went from his usual dead inside expression to something almost resembling warmth whenever Yuuji was around. The way he actually entertained Yuuji’s endless chatter instead of shutting it down. And Yuuji—he looked at Nanami like he hung the damn moon.

Satoru knew it was good for the boy, so he encouraged it! But it was suspicious, and he needed answers.

Which was why he was here now, investigating. Casually. Not at all being nosy.

The man had just finished a mission with Yuuji. He still had that post-mission calmness about him, the slight ease in his shoulders that only happened when things had gone smoothly. 

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Satoru felt a terrible, gut-wrenching realization creep up on him as he stared at the blond man in front of him.

What if… Nanami liked Yuuji? Like, in that way? Even worse—what if Yuuji liked him back… like in that way?

The thought alone made Satoru want to turn into pure dust and scatter into the wind. Why would Yuuji ever like Nanami? The guy was brooding, boring, and so un-fun that Satoru was convinced he was secretly a middle-aged man in disguise. And Yuuji? Yuuji was full of life! He deserved someone who matched his energy, someone fun. Bleh, who even likes older guys? 

…Wait a minute. 

Satoru paused.

Satoru was an older guy.

Which meant—

Of course Yuuji would like older guys!

Older guys knew so much about life! They were responsible! Wise! Reliable!

Satoru could be responsible! …If he really, really tried! He kept Yuuji alive so far, didn’t he? That had to count for something!

But Nanami? Way too responsible. Like, suffocatingly so. That man wouldn’t know fun if it hit him in the face. He was not the right fit for someone as bright and carefree as Yuuji.

Besides, Yuuji was responsible enough already! When he stayed with Satoru, he was always cleaning. Always cooking, washing dishes, making sure everything was in order. If Satoru had his way, his apartment would look like a wasteland, but Yuuji kept things neat, organized, functioning—always the one to keep Satoru’s house in check. 

No, Yuuji didn’t need another responsible person. He needed someone who could balance that. Someone fun. Someone to remind him that life wasn’t just obligations and missions and responsibility. Yuuji needed someone who would keep his carefree and lighter side. Satoru knows Yuuji has been through too much, why not for someone… more happier to cheer him up? 

So no. Nanami can’t like Yuuji. But what if Yuuji had a crush on Nanami? What if… he’s the guy 

Satoru’s stomach dropped. and his throat went dry.  He cleared his throat, eyeing Nanami closely. Time to get to the bottom of this.

“Has…” he started, trying to find the right words. He waved his hand around vaguely, as if physically pulling the question out of thin air. “Yuuji-kun said anything?”

Nanami turned to him with an unimpressed look, barely glancing up from his watch. “What do you mean?”

Satoru wasted no time.

He materialized beside Nanami, draping an arm around him like they were the best of friends. Not that Nanami could actually feel it—Limitless was, as always, making sure Satoru could be as insufferable as possible while maintaining zero physical consequences.

Nanami, to his credit, didn’t shove him off.

Instead, he stood very still, as if his sheer disapproval alone would make Satoru go away. (Spoiler alert: It didn’t.)

Satoru grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Like, did you guys talk about anything during the mission?”

Nanami sighed. It was the sigh of a man who was so tired but not tired enough to let Satoru win. “Why is that important?” he asked, ever so politely, though Nanami is trying to get away from Satoru as much as possible.

Satoru squinted. Oh.

He was dodging the question. Suspicious, very suspicious.

Satoru had to know.

He crossed his arms, tilting his head, watching Nanami like a hawk.

“So,” he started, dragging out the word. “You and Yuuji-kun, huh?”

Nanami sighed. A deep, world-weary sigh, like he was already regretting this conversation. “What about Itadori-kun?”

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru said, oh-so-casually, strolling beside him like he wasn’t plotting something. “Just that you two seem to be spending an awful lot of time together.”

Nanami barely reacted, which was unacceptable. Satoru needed reactions. He needed Nanami to slip up, to show even the tiniest bit of guilt or awkwardness or… something.

But nope, the man was as solid as a brick wall.

“Itadori-kun is my junior,” Nanami replied plainly, still looking ahead. “It’s my job to guide him.”

Boring answer. Satoru narrowed his eyes. “Is that all?”

Nanami finally glanced at him, unimpressed. “What are you implying?”

Satoru waggled his eyebrows, leaning in like they were sharing some juicy gossip. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell me, Nanamin.”

Nanami immediately took a step away. (Ah-ha! A reaction!)

“Gojo-san,” Nanami said, voice even flatter than before, which was impressive, really. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Satoru grinned.

“Oh, I will,” he said, dramatic as ever. Then he clapped a hand on Nanami’s shoulder (or at least, pretended to—Limitless was still in play, as always). “Tell me, Nanamin… has Yuuji-kun said anything?”

Nanami blinked. Slowly. “Said anything?”

Satoru leaned in. “About you.”

A pause. A long, tense pause.

Nanami didn’t react at first. Just stared at Satoru like he was waiting for the punchline to whatever this joke was supposed to be.

“…No,” he finally said. “Why would he?”

Huh Interesting.

Satoru squinted, scrutinizing. Nanami seemed genuinely confused, which meant either he was telling the truth…

Or he was really good at hiding things. Satoru wasn’t convinced yet.

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Nanamin, Nanamin, Nanamin. You expect me to believe that Yuuji-kun—my sweet Yuuji—never once mentioned anything about you?”

Nanami adjusted his cuffs. “Not in the way you’re implying, no.”

Damn. No cracks. No slips. But Satoru wasn’t done yet.

He crossed his arms, squinting harder. “So you’re telling me… absolutely nothing happened between you two during your private, one-on-one mission?”

Nanami exhaled through his nose. His patience was wearing thin. “Gojo-san.”

“You’re dodging the question, Nanamin.”

“I’m not dodging anything.”

“Sounds exactly like something someone hiding something would say.”

Nanami stopped walking. Turned fully to Satoru.

And in the most calm, cold, and exhausted tone imaginable, said: “Gojo-san. If you continue this nonsense, I will personally request another mission just to get away from you.”

Satoru gasped. “You’d leave me alone with my thoughts?”

“In an instant.”

Satoru clutched his chest, reeling. “Cruel!”

Nanami ignored him and started walking again.

And, naturally, Satoru followed.

“What do you want?” Nanami asks, impatiently. “I don’t talk to my coworkers after work.”

Typical, typical. Satoru forces out a yawn to keep his casual composure. “Valentine's is coming up.”

He stops abruptly, and slowly turns over to Satoru.

“Why are you telling me this?” Nanami asks.

“Oh, no reason,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just thought you should know. that this was the time of month that people usually give chocolates, romantic couples do something special, confessions happen—“

Nanami immediately started walking again. Faster this time.

Satoru easily kept pace, hands in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Nanamin,” he sings-songs, stretching the nickname out in the most annoying way possible. “You totally dodged the question back there.”

“I answered the question.”

“Did you, though?”

“Yes.”

Satoru gasped. “So heartless! So cold! What if Yuuji—“

Nanami stopped walking again. Satoru smirked.

“Gojo-san,” Nanami said, tone measured, patient, like he was speaking to a toddler. “I will say this once—I do not have feelings for Itadori-kun.”

“Hm.” Satoru tapped his chin. “But do you know if Yuuji has feelings for you?”

“…That is also unlikely,” Nanami said. “And even if he did, it would not be appropriate.”

Satoru squinted. “Not appropriate?”

“I am his mentor.”

“Oh, please,” Satoru scoffed. “That’s the best you’ve got? ‘I’m his mentor’? That’s so boring, Nanamin.”

“It is called having professionalism—something you clearly lack.”

Satoru gasped. “Slander!”

Nanami started walking again, determined to leave Satoru in the dust. Which, of course, was impossible because Satoru was persistent.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Satoru said, catching up effortlessly. “Let’s just say, hypothetically, if Yuuji had feelings for you—”

“He doesn’t.”

“Hypothetically,” Satoru insisted. “If he did… what would you do?”

Silence.

“He doesn’t,” Nanami stresses it out, “because he sees me as his father figure.”

That effectively shuts Satoru up, and instead a warm feeling comforts him. 

“Seriously?”

Seriously,” Nanami says, confirming it. “Leave me alone now, I do not mind if Itadori had feelings for anyone. I trust that his judgement is good for choosing a good person.”

Satoru blinked. Huh. That… actually made him feel relieved.

For a moment, he had genuinely worried. He knew Yuuji got attached to people easily, and Nanami was one of the few constants in his life. It wouldn’t have been that far-fetched to think Yuuji had a little crush on his ever-reliable mentor.

But father figure? That was… kind of nice, actually. For Yuuji at least.

Satoru sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. “Well, that’s one less person to worry about.”

Nanami shot him a flat look. “Are you investigating Itadori-kun’s potential crushes?”

“What? Me? Nooo.” Satoru grinned, walking backward in front of Nanami. “I’m just looking out for him.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gojo-san—”

“Relax, Nanamin,” Satoru said breezily. “I’m just making sure he doesn’t end up with someone horrible.”

Nanami exhaled sharply, clearly at the end of his patience. “I trust his judgment. You, however, I do not trust at all.”

Satoru clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Wounded.”

Nanami ignored him. “Are we done here?”

Satoru considered it.

For now? Yeah. He was done with this particular lead. But there were others.

He smirked. “For now, Nanamin. But my investigation is far from over.”

Nanami muttered something about how he “absolutely did not care” and walked off, leaving Satoru standing there, scheming.

Alright. That was one name off the list. But there were still plenty more. And Satoru still needed to find out.

Alright, time to use the “Great Gojo Satoru” skills into use!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Unfortunately, it’s hard to use the “Great Gojo Satoru” skills if you just erased two of your most suspected victims.

Who the hell was Yuuji’s crush?

He plopped onto the nearest surface (which happened to be a random park bench because, yes, he had wandered into a park while deep in thought) and crossed his arms, staring up at the sky.

So, Satoru thinks up of everyone that could be Yuuji’s potential lover.

Yuuta? No. He was happily dating Maki and was incredibly in love. Yuuta and Yuuji were like brothers. Something that Satoru greatly appreciated.

Panda? Out of the question. The very idea made Satoru’s brain short-circuit. Panda is… Panda. Satoru shivered at the thought of Panda and Yuuji being together. No. No way. Not happening. Satoru refused to acknowledge that timeline.

Toge? Not really. The guy was cool, and Yuuji did seem to like him. But Satoru had seen how they interacted, and it was friendly—maybe even acquaintance-like, friends at best. Plus, with Toge’s vocabulary being limited to rice ball ingredients, it’d be tough for any confessions to happen without someone misinterpreting them as a sushi order.

Satoru groaned, slumping further into the bench. This was going to take a while, wasn’t it?

He needed a strategy. He could break into Yuuji’s dorm and look for clues—no, too obvious. 

Maybe he should just ask Yuuji directly. But no, that would be too easy. And besides, if Yuuji knew that Satoru of all people was investigating his love life, he’d probably panic and shut down completely.

Satoru tapped his chin. What should he do?

He pressed his lips. Okay, time to change schools.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

So, naturally, he appeared out of nowhere, slinging an arm around Aoi Todo’s broad shoulders as if they were lifelong best friends.

“Hello, Todo,” Satoru greeted with a casual ease.

Todo blinked, turning to face him with mild confusion. “Hello, Gojo. Do you need anything?”

Satoru grinned. “You see, it’s about Yuuji, actually.”

At the mention of Yuuji, Todo visibly straightened, his eyes lighting up. “Brother?” he repeats, full of unfiltered enthusiasm.

Satoru could feel the intensity radiating off of him. He was used to people being weird about things, since all Jujutsu Sorcerers had to be somewhat weird—but Todo took weird to an art form. This was a man who had, through sheer force of will, rewritten his own memories to include a fabricated middle-school friendship with Yuuji. It would’ve been hilarious if Satoru had not felt a flicker of irritation whenever Todo comes in and always comes up in Yuuji’s space—which, Satoru does but he’s Satoru Gojo! Of course he can do that to Yuuji! And Todo… 

Satoru nods sagely, as if what he’s about to say is of the utmost importance. “Yes, your beloved brother.”

Todo clenches his fists dramatically, his face suddenly intense with emotion. “Gojo…” he said, his voice thick with passion. “If this is about Yuuji, I will dedicate my entire being to this cause. Say the word, and I shall act.”

Satoru barely resisted the urge to laugh. Man, this guy is really something else.

“Well,” Satoru drawls, stretching his words, “I just have a little question.”

“Ask away, Brother Gojo,” Todo declares, already too far into the bit.

Satoru squinted at him, pausing. Then, he asked, “Tell me, Todo… do you like Yuuji?”

Todo stares.

Then he blinks.

There was a moment of silence.

Then—

Todo laughed.

Not just a normal chuckle. Not even a hearty, amused laugh.

Not just any laugh—it was booming, over-the-top, full-bodied laughter, like Satoru had just told the funniest joke in the world. A nearby group of birds actually flew away in alarm.

Satoru, unimpressed, crossed his arms and waited.

Todo eventually calmed down, wiping a dramatic tear from his eye. “Oh, Brother Gojo… while I deeply admire Yuuji and cherish our bond as brothers-in-arms—” He placed a hand over his heart, looking almost poetic. “—My heart already belongs to Takada-chan. Yuuji and I are soulmates of the fist. Our bond transcends such trivial things as romance.”

Satoru stares at him blankly, and then he laughs in relief. Another suspect off the list.  

Satoru waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But hm… has Yuuji said anything to you? About someone he wanted to give chocolates to?”

Todo immediately perked up. “He wants to give chocolates to someone?”

So he hasn’t.

Honestly if Satoru thought about it—sure, Yuuji sometimes entertained Todo’s ridiculous delusions of their imaginary middle-school friendship. And yeah, he tolerated Todo’s overly dramatic speeches with a level of patience that was either admirable or deeply concerning.

But would Yuuji give chocolates to Todo?

No. Absolutely not.

Not unless he wanted to trigger some long-winded, deeply passionate speech about the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, which would likely involve Todo making grand declarations about destiny while probably crying about it. And, frankly, Satoru didn’t think Yuuji had the energy for that. Conclusion? Todo was a dead end.

Satoru sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. If not Todo, then who…?

Before he could think too hard about it, a new voice cut through the air.

“Gojo.”

Oh, he knew that tone. Satoru turned his head just in time to see Utahime Iori marching toward him with all the grace and patience of a woman who had long since run out of both. Arms crossed, brow furrowed, who looked extremely exasperated. Todo took a subtle step back.

Satoru, ever the picture of innocence, beamed at her. “Utahime! Fancy seeing you here!”

Her eye twitched. “Fancy seeing you here?” she repeated, clearly unimpressed. “You’re in Kyoto, disturbing my students.” She jabbed a finger towards him. “What are you even doing here?”

Satoru opened his mouth, fully prepared to deliver some ridiculous excuse, but then—

Then he looked at Utahime. Really looked.

And a realization struck him.

Up until this point, his entire so-called investigation had been focused solely on men.

Megumi, Nanami, Todo.

Not once had he even considered a woman.

It made sense.

Yuuji had always been loud and clear about his type—tall women, big butts, models in bikinis. His dorm room? Plastered with posters of foreign actresses and idols, most of them towering over the average man and looking like they could step on you

And it wasn’t just decoration. Yuuji actually bought magazines featuring absurdly attractive women. He had even gone on and on—multiple times—about how much he loved Jennifer Lawrence.

How, Satoru wondered, could I have possibly missed this?

His eyes widened slightly behind his blindfold.

Here he was, running around, bothering every single man in Yuuji’s life—when the answer had been right in front of him the entire time. An answer that Satoru very much did not like.

Utahime, unaware of his existential crisis, was still ranting. “—you can’t just show up here unannounced and start interrogating my students! Do you have any idea how disruptive you are?”

Satoru barely heard her.

This changed everything.

Utahime, still in the middle of her rant, caught sight of the way Satoru suddenly clutched his head like he was experiencing enlightenment. She narrowed her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

Satoru ignored her, still deep in thought.

Yuuji liked women. Women! Not Todo. Not Megumi. Not Nanami.

Which meant—if Yuuji wanted to give chocolates to someone, it had to be—

“Oh,” Satoru breathed, realization hitting him.

Utahime scowled, snapping her fingers. “Oh? Oh, what? Gojo, are you even listening to me?”

Satoru turned to her, eyes wide (or at least, that’s what he imagined—hard to tell with the blindfold). He pointed a dramatic finger.

“Utahime,” he declared, as if he had just uncovered the secrets of the universe. “Goodbye.”

“What?” Utahime says, stupendously. 

Satoru teleports out of there and mildly panics. Just a little bit.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Satoru panicked a lot.

Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, a genius, The Strongest—

Okay, so what? Satoru is very tall! But he’s not a woman, and when he looks at the mirror, his ass is not fat, in fact it has muscles! Muscles Yuuji would very much like! In fact, his butt is way better than everyone else—he bet all the women that Yuuji has ever fantasized about yearn for a butt like his! So no, he does not check in the mirror if he had a fat ass.

The problem? He wasn’t a woman.

And no amount of sheer willpower, Reverse Cursed Technique, or reality-bending abilities was going to change that.

Okay. Okay. Focus.

He has two-ish things of the three things Yuuji wants. He’ll just have to compensate for the fact that Satoru is a tall man with a great ass.

He needed a plan. If Yuuji wasn’t into guys—tragic, really—and Satoru could easily change his preferences! Because he’s Satoru Gojo! But he needed to put a full list on who Yuuji would ever like.

Step one: eliminate the impossible.

Anyone outside of Jujutsu? Not anyone that Satoru would know. Yuuji barely had time to socialize with normal people, let alone fall for one.

Kyoto students? No. Yuuji wasn’t in Kyoto enough to form that kind of attachment—except, if it was Todo, which they had thankfully ruled out. 

Maki? No. She’d throw Yuuji into the ground before even considering him and she was dating Yuuta.

That left—

Nobara.

Maybe.

Satoru didn’t waste a second. He found her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her dramatically. “Nobara-chan!”

“Hey!” she yelped, squirming in his grip. “Stop doing that!”

Satoru stopped, but only because he needed answers, and she was his best lead right now.

He leaned in, voice low and serious. “Do you like Yuuji-kun?”

Nobara blinked. “What?”

Satoru stared, waiting.

Then—“Ew!” she blurted out, face scrunching up in absolute disgust. “No way! What even got you into saying that?!”

Satoru pursed his lips. Good. He had hoped she’d say that. That meant she wasn’t secretly hiding some schoolgirl crush or writing his name in a notebook with hearts.

Alright, on to the next question!

“Do you suspect Yuuji-kun likes you?” he asks, interrogating her.

And Nobara, bless her unfiltered heart, snorted. “No.”

Satoru barely had time to process the relief that flooded his system before she narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. Her stare sharpened. “Why are you asking?”

Satoru, for all his brilliance, had not thought that far ahead.

“Yuuji-kun is asking someone for Valentine's,” Satoru blurts out.

The reaction was instantaneous. Nobara’s entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes widened, her whole body tensed, and then—

“Seriously?!” she practically shouted, grabbing Satoru by the front of his jacket—not really, Satoru had Limitless between them. “Who?!”

She was already turning, ready to hunt Yuuji down and pry the answer straight from his soul—

“Don’t ask him!” Satoru tuts, shaking his head. Wagging a finger as he pried her hands off him. Geez, kids were so violent nowadays. Besides, if Yuuji ever finds out that Satoru was running around, trying to find who Yuuji was trying to ask for Valentine's for—Satoru would be in trouble. Maybe. For his heart, yes. “We do this my way.”

Nobara glared at him, unconvinced. “And why the hell would I listen to you?”

Satoru did what any rational man in his position would do as he flaunted his black card from his pocket.

There was a beat of silence.

Nobara’s entire body straightened.

“…Fine,” she said, monotone, though her hand immediately snatched the card from his fingers.

Nobara rolled her eyes but pocketed the card with an air of casual indifference that did nothing to hide the barely contained excitement on her face. “Anyways,” she said, voice deliberately bored, “I have a few leads.”

Satoru perks up. “You do?”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “A couple of months ago, Itadori met up with this girl.”

Satoru leaned in. “Go on.”

“The girl has a crush on him,” Nobara continued, frowning a little. “They knew each other in junior high.”

Satoru froze.

Oh?

Something ugly twisted in his chest.

Yuuji never told him about this.

Yuuji told him everything. Stupid things. Random things. Things that made Satoru laugh so hard he had to clutch his ribs. But this? 

“And?” His voice came out just a bit too sharp.

Nobara, oblivious to whatever was raging inside him, shrugged. “I gave them each other’s contacts. They should’ve been texting since then.”

Satoru inhaled sharply through his nose.

Texting. Yuuji was texting this girl.

The ugly feeling grew.

“What’s her name?” Satoru presses in.

He needed more information. “What’s her name?” he pressed, words quick, impatient.

“Ozawa Yuko—” She didn’t even get to finish.

Because by the time the words left her lips, Satoru had already teleported out of there.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Satoru was definitely not stalking a girl half his age.

No. Definitely not.

He was simply… conducting an investigation. Like a responsible adult. A concerned mentor. A mature and well-adjusted individual who just happened to be keeping an eye on a certain Ozawa because something about this situation wasn’t adding up.

Yeah. That was it.

It wasn’t like he had researched about the girl, and then suddenly teleported across town and was now standing very conspicuously outside of some random café, watching through the glass window as a teenage girl scrolled through her phone, occasionally typing out messages with an all too familiar grin.

He wasn’t standing there, arms crossed, hoodie pulled up over his hair like some kind of badly disguised creep, squinting at her phone screen, willing it to show him the name of whoever she was texting.

Nope.

He was just… observing. Casually. Like a normal person.

Satoru exhaled slowly. Alright. Be rational about this.

There was a very real possibility that this was nothing. Maybe they were just old classmates catching up. Maybe Yuko had a crush, but Yuuji had no clue. Maybe Yuuji did know, but he wasn’t interested.

Maybe—

His stomach twisted.

Maybe he is interested.

Satoru scowled. That thought was disgusting. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because the idea of Yuuji doting on some random girl—of him giving his stupid, bright smiles and soft, earnest attention to someone else—

Satoru didn’t like it.

He hated it.

Okay. Fine. That was probably a him problem.

But he wasn’t going to stand here and let this go unresolved. He needed information.

Satoru cracked his knuckles. Time to meet Ozawa Yuko!

He strolls up to her, and Ozawa looks visibly surprised when she first sees him.

Ozawa Yuko blinked up at him, clear confusion in her eyes. “Do I… know you?” she asked hesitantly, tilting her head.

No. Obviously not. But Satoru, being Satoru, just whistled, rocking back on his heels like he wasn’t absolutely invading a teenage girl’s personal space. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He flashed a grin. “I’m Yuuji’s awesome teacher.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! You’re his teacher?”

Satoru grinned wider. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner.”

Ozawa still looked unsure, but she gave a polite smile anyway. “Um… nice to meet you?”

Satoru took the opportunity to size her up.

She was exactly Yuuji’s type.

Tall? Check. Conventionally attractive? Check. Probably had a big butt? Satoru didn’t care enough to confirm, but given Yuuji’s taste, probably.

And that was a problem. Because this girl… this girl was a threat. She was a threat to him. Because if Yuuji liked her—if Yuuji chose her—then where did that leave Satoru?

…Nope. Not happening. Not on his watch.

Satoru clapped his hands together. “So!” he said cheerfully. “What’s this I hear about you and Yuuji texting?”

Ozawa blinked. “Uh… what?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I heard from a very reliable source that you and my dear student have been getting close~”

Ozawa’s face turned a little pink. “I mean… we’ve been catching up…”

Aha. Suspicious. Satoru leaned in, lowering his voice like he was sharing a great secret. “Do you like him?”

Ozawa turned even redder. “W-What?!”

Bingo.

Satoru’s grin turned positively wolfish.

“…” Ozawa looks down, deeply in thought.

“Well,” she slowly starts, her voice soft. “How could I not like him? It was as if he was made of pure snow.”

Satoru blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time, just to make sure he really heard that right.

… Huh.

Satoru squinted. “Snow?”

Ozawa nodded, her eyes practically sparkling with admiration. “Yes. Snow is so… pure, you know? It falls so gently, so softly, untouched by the world, and it makes everything around it look beautiful. Yuuji’s like that. He’s kind, and warm, and—”

Satoru tuned her out.

She was right. Yuuji was like that.

Kind, warm, untouched by the worst parts of the world in a way that made people want to protect him, even when he was the one throwing himself in harm’s way. Yuuji had this way of making everything around him brighter, like the first snowfall of the season. He was so incredibly warm, and so out of reach.

Satoru feels a pang in his chest.

Shit.

He had spent so much time trying to debunk whatever feelings he had, convincing himself it was just possession, just mentorship, just something else entirely.

But hearing someone else say it—hearing someone else recognize what made Yuuji so special—made something bitter rise up in his throat.

And he didn’t like it.

He liked Yuuji. He liked it too much that it physically hurt.

But before he could spiral any further, Ozawa suddenly broke through his thoughts with a quiet, “But—”

Satoru blinked. “But?”

Ozawa fidgeted, her cheeks turning a little pink. “He, um… rejected me actually. In—um—December.”

…

……

………

Satoru stared.

He stared so hard that Ozawa shifted awkwardly under his gaze, like she wasn’t sure if she should be embarrassed or offended.

“He rejected you?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah… I confessed, and he said he, uh, wasn’t looking for anything right now and wanted to stay friends.”

Satoru’s entire body relaxed.

He had not realized how tense he had been this entire time.

Yuuji rejected her.

Which meant—

Yuuji wasn’t interested in her.

Which meant—

Satoru still had a chance.

“Are you okay?” Ozawa asked, concerned.

Satoru realized he had been standing completely still, staring blankly ahead, he shakes his head. He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah. More than okay, actually. I’m fantastic.”

Ozawa still looked a little weirded out, but she shrugged. “Uh… cool, I guess?”

Satoru clapped his hands together. “Well! This has been extremely enlightening.”

Ozawa tilted her head. “So… why were you asking about this again?”

Satoru winked. “No reason! Anyway, have a great day, Ozawa-chan! Stay in school, don’t do drugs, all that good stuff—bye!”

And then he left.

Satoru is now certifiably confused.

Who did Yuuji want to ask for Valentine's?

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

It was Valentine's Day.

Satoru didn’t have any good leads, he did not know whom Yuuji wanted to ask and all he could is do what he usually does best.

Convince him.

Convince him that Satoru was clearly better than whoever Yuuji had concur up in his mind to like and cherish. Even if Yuuji did not like him now, then maybe he’ll like Satoru in the future because Satoru liked Yuuji—a bit too much. 

Besides, he was The Strongest—he can do it, he needed to do it.

And so, in the morning, Satoru furiously knocks on his door.

Yuuji opens it, and yawns—he looks groggy as if he just woke up. Understandable, it was six in the morning after all. “… Sensei?”

Satoru didn’t hesitate. Didn’t greet him.

“Yuuji,” Satoru began, his voice grave, serious, as if he were about to deliver the most important speech of his life. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Yuuji blinked at him, still half-asleep. Then, after a long pause, he let out another yawn and scratched his head.

Then he widens his eyes, and slaps his cheeks. “Crap! It is!” 

He slams the door in front of Satoru’s face.

Through the door, Satoru can hear his voice. “Sensei! Please stay there for a second!”

He hears shuffling around his room, the occasional dropping of some item, some running. Satoru waits, and then he waits and then he waits—

“Yuuji-kun,” he says, eerily calm. He knows Yuuji can hear it from him.  “It’s been about ten minutes.”

Yuuji abruptly opens the door and Satoru’s mouth slightly drops.

He wore an oversized, light-wash denim button-up shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up. Underneath, there’s a plain white T-shirt that adds to the laid-back feel. The shirt is paired with loose-fitting black trousers, he was holding something behind his back, and Satoru could tell it was the chocolates he had cooked.

Why was Yuuji dressing up?

Unless…

He’s going there! Right now! To confess! And he’ll ask Satoru to be his unwilling victim to watch.

No, absolutely not. He would rather bury his body and burn it before he’ll see that.

“Sensei, I—“

“I love you!”

Yuuji's eyes immediately shoot up to him, a shocked expression overtakes his face. “Huh?” 

He takes off his black blindfold, revealing his pure desperate blue eyes, his hair flying back down. “Yuuji… I don’t want you kissing anyone else. I don’t want you going on dates with anyone else. I don’t want you with anybody else. I want you.” He holds Yuuji’s hand, and guides it to his heart. ‘Here. Beside me. Close so I don’t keep my eyes off you.”

A blush rises from Yuuji’s cheeks, but Satoru continues, “don’t confess to whomever you're going to confess to. I’m better than them, I can be better than them. I can do anything for you, I’ll do anything for you, Yuuji-kun. So please, be my Valentine’s.”

“Sensei…”

“What is it?” Satoru urges, “I can do it for you.”

“Sensei…” 

“Yuuji,” Satoru says, gripping his hand. “I really, really want you.”

“Sensei,” Yuuji interrupts, he shyly brings the chocolates to give to Satoru and looks away. “I was… going to ask you to be my Valentine’s.”

…

What?!

Satoru’s brain completely malfunctions.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. No words come out. 

Yuuji, bless his soul, looks increasingly nervous at the prolonged silence. “Uh… Sensei?” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hand still awkwardly holding out the chocolates, his cheeks stained with pink.

Satoru, the ever-so-brilliant, ever-so-eloquent, ever-so-undeniably The Strongest, finally responds with—

“…Eh?”

It’s the weakest sound to have ever left his mouth. 

Yuuji shifts uncomfortably. “Uhm.” He scratches the back of his head, looking anywhere but Satoru’s face. “I… uh, I thought it was kinda obvious?”

Satoru continues to stare, utterly dumbfounded. “What was obvious?”

Yuuji groans, rubbing his face. His ears are red now. “Dude—Sensei, c’mon,” he mumbles. “I like you.”

Satoru blinks. Once. Twice. He wonders, for a brief moment, if he’s still in bed, dreaming up the absolute wildest fantasy his subconscious could create.

Because there’s just no way.

“…Like me?” he asks dumbly.

Yuuji groans even louder. “Yes, like you,” he says, the frustration clear in his voice. “Like, in the way that I think you’re silly, and you’re so full of fun and kindness and I still want to be around you all the time.” He exhales shakily. “Like in the way that I can’t help but be in awe of you, no matter what you do. And in the way that I get kinda… happy whenever you’re around.”

Satoru feels his heart stumble, as if it’s forgotten how to beat properly. His fingers twitch at his sides, his entire body locking into place as if the wrong move would break this moment.

“I mean, I know it’s stupid,” Yuuji continues, voice softer now. “You’re—you’re you, and I’m just…” He sighs, shoulders slumping. “I dunno. I just really, really like you, Sensei. Have for a while now.”

Satoru swears something inside him just shatters. He’s been so caught up in his own feelings—so wrapped up in his own wants—that it never even occurred to him that Yuuji could’ve felt the same. That Yuuji could’ve been waiting for him to notice.

He doesn’t think. Doesn’t hesitate.

He moves.

Before Yuuji can even react, Satoru cups his face and pulls him in, pressing their lips together.

It’s soft. A little clumsy. Yuuji makes a surprised noise against his mouth, but he doesn’t pull away—he leans in instead, hands gripping onto Satoru’s shirt as if he’s afraid he’ll disappear. Satoru can’t help but smile into the kiss.

When they finally part, Yuuji’s breath is shaky, his eyes dazed and wide.

“Oh,” he breathes out.

Satoru chuckles, resting his forehead against Yuuji’s. His hands stay where they are, thumbs brushing gently over his cheeks. “Oh?” he teases. “That’s all you have to say?”

Yuuji lets out a breathless laugh, his hands tightening their grip. “I think you kinda scrambled my brain there for a second.”

Satoru smirks, pressing a lingering kiss to Yuuji’s forehead. “Good. I’m going to make sure it’ll stay like that when we get to bed.”

Yuuji flushes, a deep crimson painting his cheeks. He whines, “Hey.”

Yuuji opens the chocolate box and takes a sweet-hearted shaped milk chocolate out. He murmurs, “Want one, sensei?”

Satoru perks up as he eats it from Yuuji’s hand, and immediately moans in delight. 

“Obviously.” He responds, grinning. “Ohhhh, Yuuji-kun, you made these? Just for me? You’re so sweet~”

“Sensei!” Yuuji says, a deeper flush appears on his cheeks and Satoru can’t help but throw a laugh.

“My chocolates, my Valentine! Mine! You said it, no take-backs!”  Satoru announces smugly, wrapping his arms around Yuuji.

Yuuji groans, smacking a hand over his face. “Sensei.”

Satoru just grins, chewing happily. “Mmm, I’m yours now.”

Yuuji huffs, attempting to look exasperated, but the way he’s beaming completely ruins the effect. “Yeah, yeah. I’m yours now.” 

Satoru smiles cheekily. “You now have an incredibly handsome, loving, amazing boyfriend.”

Yuuji chokes. “Boyfriend—”

Satoru leans in with a sly grin. “Well, unless you were planning on breaking my heart immediately after confessing?”

Yuuji’s entire face burns red. “That’s—that’s not—!” He groans, throwing his head back before mumbling, “No, I wasn’t.”

Satoru’s heart does something weird in his chest, but he ignores it in favor of kissing Yuuji’s cheek. “Good,” he murmurs, letting his lips linger.

Yuuji tenses for half a second, then slowly melts into him, his fingers clutching Satoru’s sleeves. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

Satoru hums. “Nope.”

Yuuji just laughs, resting his head against Satoru’s shoulder.

And for once, Satoru doesn’t feel the need to run from the warmth curling in his chest.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

“You’re dating who?!”

Kugisaki spits out her drink and Fushiguro starts to cough violently.

Meanwhile, Yuuji just scratches his cheek, looking away with an innocent little smile.

Kugisaki grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him like a ragdoll. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Why would I be?” Yuuji blinks up at her, all faux innocence—right before Fushiguro smacks him upside the head. “Ow—“

Before anyone can say another word, a familiar, all-too-cheerful voice cuts in.

“Yuuji-kun! Are you okay?!”

And just like that, Satoru appears in all his ridiculous, lovestruck glory, immediately cupping Yuuji’s face like he’s made of glass.

Yuuji smiles tenderly, eyes crinkling. “I’m fine, Sensei.”

Satoru cooes. “Aw, you’re so cute, Yuuji!”

Then—right in front of everyone—he plants a dramatic, smoochy kiss on Yuuji’s lips.

Yuuji, completely unfazed, only grins wider.

… At the background Kugisaki gags and Fushiguro looks like he’s going to vomit.

All is well. Yuuji thinks fondly. He is right where he needs to be.

₊˚⊹♡