Chapter Text
IF YOU HAD TO choose between properly getting your ass whooped by that lantern curse back in Harajuku a few weeks back, or having to experience the past couple hours all over again— you would (albeit, begrudgingly) go with the former.
At least the curse would be unrelenting with it's feelings. It's instinctive disdain towards humanity. The glee it felt from their terror and anguish. Your supposedly faithful and kind lover (of three years!—) couldn't even do that. No, his eyes held not a speck of warmth; No guilt, no remorse. No mirth. No-No anything.
That was probably the first (and hopefully) the last time you would have to see just how high of a pedestal you had put Gojo Satoru on, just for your view on him to drastically diminish through the events of one night. Watching his bubbly facade melt away and manifest into the heartless monster he'd become...
No. That wasn't right.
He manifested into the heartless monster that he always was— is. His true nature, it seemed. You were just happy that you gotten the support that you had today. Speaking of, you never really did get to thank her properly.
[ MESSAGES — life saviour ]
hey
ieiri-san, was it?
i just wanted to thank you
for the warning
and the drink too
i also wanted to apologise for today
i can't imagine how many others you must've told
tried to tell, anyways haha
glad you've got my back
[ READ✓ — 8:37pm ]
hey
no worries
as i've said, i've known satoru for a long time
you learn one way or another to put up with his shit
and when not to
also
you're free to call me shoko
calling me ieiri makes me—
[ READ✓ — 8:42pm ]
She probably intended to say "calling her Ieiri makes her feel old," but it had cut off. Poor thing. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer wasn't necessarily an easy career. Especially if you were regarded as one of their (scarcely few in number) medical staff. You just prayed that some deity out there would heed to your call and let Ieiri Shoko get proper rest this weekend.
You couldn't have possibly imagined how much longer your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend— would've strung you along his web of lies, without the help of Shoko. You definitely owe her one.
It was just another summer afternoon, and you had finished a huge special-grade mission out in Shibuya (without the need of any assistance, might I add!). Since you had done what you believed was more-than-satisfactory, you decided that you deserved a chance to unwind at your favourite cafe; a great way to start off the weekend.
Occasionally, Satoru would join you, ordering enough sugar to send nine people to the ER and would still want to stop at a candy shop on the way home. (You always did have a nack for pulling the odds ones, you muse).
How you two meet were nothing short of odd, either. Word of a nameless, but awfully powerful sorcerer working in Kyoto had spread like the plague. Gojo Satoru, who's always finding a way to piss off his superiors— decided that there wouldn't be any harm in getting to know you. You remember his charming smile, casual mannerisms, implicit (but noticeably) sexist remarks... and that smug look he had getting wiped clean off when you punched him square in the face. A switch had flipped in him since then, as he realised his infinity technique doesn't work on you.
(Surprisingly, you also remember his best friend, initially quiet and proper, howling in laughter at Satoru's bloody nose).
After that he learnt you weren't going to take shit from him (and could slug him at any point in time) he found himself bothering you more than ever (which never made sense to you— why confront something you clearly feared, just to prod at it?) going as far as breaking into your house several times and drag you out of bed just to "hangout." (In all honesty, it was just an excuse to bother you, and you both knew that).
One thing led to another, and before you knew it— you were going on genuine dates with him. Each and every one more exciting than the last. Sharing kisses, other small acts of intimacy, jovial laughs. Your favourite date venue, though, would have to be the cafe you had just grabbed your order from right now.
Business looked to be doing well today, as the cafe was practically buzzing with life. The late afternoon glow emphasised on just how cozy it was to be here. Light-hearted chatter danced around your ears, accompanying quite well with soft hum of coffee machines. As much as you gushed over the establishment, though, a busy cafe meant sharing a table with someone else. You didn't mind (not too much to care, it was a good neighbourhood). The only issue was just finding someone who also wouldn't mind sharing a table (you learned your lesson a few grumpy elders later).
Although divine luck seemed to be on your side, it seemed, as you saw another jujutsu sorcerer sitting on her own. You weren't surprised— this was Tokyo after all, and the cafe was within walking distance from their college. Long, chestnut hair. A turtle neck accentuated with a medical coat, all complimenting with her tired eyes, finishing the 'hard working doctor' look she had going on. You remember her from one of Satoru's childish whines, talking about how she and a Nanami Kento often "gang up" on him. Even if you hadn't remembered, the cursed energy she oozed out was more than enough indication that she were a jujutsu sorcerer. Plus, she's really pretty— so you liked to think you would've remembered her regardless.
"Hi, uh— can I sit here?" Her eyes are on you in an instant.
She seems to know you too, her eyebrows raising in recognition. Although, her lips pursed shortly after, frowning slightly. She knew something you did not. She saw what you were yet to see (based on the look she gave you weren't even sure if you even wanted to see it). Her eyes are drawn back to whatever's outside the window and she gives an absent-minded nod.
Brushing off what just happened (but keeping it at the back of your mind), you slide into your chair, suddenly aware of how close you two are. Trying to make the best of the situation, you give her your name, following with,
"You work in Tokyo's jujutsu branch, right? I primarily work with Kyoto's! Although, my missions always lead me right back to Tokyo, haha."
"..." Talk about a tough crowd... You're not one to give in so easily, though.
"You're close with Gojo Satoru, right? You know, he talks about you sometimes." Her eyes find her way back to you with a glint of interest. So you tell her about practically anything and everything you can about him, intent on getting her validation. You tell her how Satoru is, by far, the worst cook you've ever met, laughing at how he failed to do simple things like boiling water, or telling the difference between garlic and ginger (you made it a small game between you two— giving him hints as what vampires repel to, and by default, which is ginger).
You tell her how he refuses to leave your house on Saturday mornings (no matter how important his plans were) until he finished his weekly episode of Spongebob Squarepants, with you flushed against his side. Oh! And just how could you forget to mention that time when Satoru had gotten jump-scared from a horror film so gruesome it had left him lunging at you, squealing like a pig; harsh and shrill—
"Pfft—"
Too caught up in your story-telling, you didn't even realise the woman seated in front of you; your audience— was struggling to hide her snickers. Her demeanor, originally neutral and agitated— morphed into one of impermanence, her eyes holding mirth. You've reduced her to chuckles now, seeing her shoulders drop a bit in relaxation.
"Thanks," she lets out, "I really needed a good laugh." She introduces herself. Ieiri Shoko, you note. She's a few years younger than you, having attended Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College alongside Satoru. Working relentlessly to ensure her peers safety, there was no wonder why she looked so tired. She came to the cafe in search of rest (and some company that you were more than kind enough to grace her with, she admits). Following after this vibe of straight-forwardness and honesty that you were able to create, you bring up how she seemed to have something else on her mind. She tenses slightly, and with much hesitation (which seemed quite out-of-character for someone like her) she speaks up.
"Look— I'm terribly sorry if I've come across as..." she winces a bit in guilt, "cold." She finishes. "But, I've come to the conclusion that I really like you, and you seem too nice for your own good, so, let me ask you something." You don't utter a word as you look at her, searching, hoping to get a glimpse of what was on her mind. You couldn't help but take note of the tone she used towards the end; hinting at some sort of underlying message. This encouraged her to go further, as she continues.
"Don't you... ever wonder what he does in his free time?" Of course you wondered. You wondered all the damn time. Sure, he was a special-grade sorcerer like yourself. And sure, he had his own friends and possibly hobbies outside of work. And sure, it was his whole brand to be just a little too late to important events (your dates included)... but... but—
"Isn't it weird that just when you start to think something's not right, and you just can't quite tell what it is, he'll show up out of nowhere— sweep you off your feet and spoil you lavishly with gifts and affection?" She cuts off your train of thought and perfectly putting your worries; your insecurities, into proper words. Eyes blown wide, you look at her. She stays composed, while you feel as if you were slowly losing confidence— both in yourself and your boyfriend. You know what she's trying to tell you, but you can't help but ask,
"Wh—... Just what are you trying to get at?" Your hands tremble beneath the table. Without realising it, you don't have an appetite anymore, having lost it completely.
"I think you know." She insists. You do know. You never came to terms with it before, but you know. You know you wouldn't have believed it if it were coming from any other woman, too. But this was someone who worked in the Tokyo branch— not to mention, a close friend of Satoru's since highschool. She knew him far longer than you have.
"Well," she sighs out, starting up conversation again, "no use beating around the bush anymore." Her hands move to her pockets, only to reveal a pen and those tiny note pads. Keeping nonchalant, she starts to scribble something on it.
"Your cute little boyfriend has been cheating on you. And it goes back a lot longer than either of us would like to admit. To make matters worse— you aren't the first sweetheart he's taken advantage of." She finishes writing, her pen letting out a soft click.
"Now, what I want you to do is check in on our beloved little Satoru. I don't care how you do it— by call, or walking into that god-awful italian restaurant he's always at—" De Luca's? Time starts to slow.
Thinking about the restaurant where he asked you out and where you two had officially started dating made your heart break just a little bit more. You take a deep breath, shove that feeling down as quick as it had formed and listen in again.
"—as long as you catch him, do whatever. After that, I want you to contact me immediately." So that's what the note's for, you conclude. You tense slightly, wondering if she wanted a rise out of your suffering (she did seem the sadistic type). You look back up at her. Her eyes show genuine concern, holding the note between two fingers. Any bitter thoughts about her having ill-intentions dissipate in an instant.
"And if you're wrong?" Your hands grip onto your pants, knuckles slowly losing it's natural colour. You can't help but snap at her, having some last, desperate attempt to defend him.
"Then you can walk away with a lighter conscious on your shoulders and a pretty man at your side."
"And, hey—" she continues, "if I'm right, I'll treat you to a couple rounds, maybe something extra. On me." She slides the note next to your food and her hands slip right back her pocket, having grabbed onto... something. You couldn't tell what it was. Your eyes flicker back up and squint in incredulity.
"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"Believe me," she lets out another sigh, her hands shuffling around in her pockets, "if I'm right— you'll be wanting something to drink. Something strong." She stands up and pulls out what she had been hiding in her pocket. A cigarette box and lighter appeared, snug between her slim fingers. Tilting herself forward, she side-steps out of her chair, leaving without another word.
Irked, and with hurt pride (coming to terms that your boyfriend might possibly be a cheater stung), you wait just a little bit longer, simmering in your thoughts. How could you have just let him play you like that? Ignore all the red flags like that?...
Why you, specifically?
Once you determine that she's well and gone, you snatch up the number and storm off with a strong sense of resolution.
You've never wanted the floor to swallow you from where you stood in this very moment. No scientific explanation, no lawyer debate— Not even some shitty horoscope on the newspaper could justify what Satoru was doing was right. It was pretty simple. He cheated. He took you for granted; disregarded you as a whole and you had so helplessly believed you never saw it coming.
And yet, here he is. Making out with some random woman at De Luca's, their food long forgotten. It was all just too much— you weren't even sure how to feel at the moment. A beat later, you opted to moving to the side of the building, bumping into people on the way.
You take a second to recollect yourself, processing on what the fuck is actually happening. How could he throw away years of pining and affection? All the dates and the times where he'd sneak into your house early hours in the morning spent with movie marathons— were they all for nothing?
Were you just... that insignificant to him?
Honestly, you were tired. Tired of work. Of life. Of Satoru. But, you needed to do something about it. And so, you pull out your phone, about to enter in Ieiri's number, until you see a familiar contact.
[ MESSAGES — eyes galore <3 ]
[ MESSAGES — eyes ga... ]
[ MESSAGES — asshole ]
You go to take a photo of him (catching his ass in 4k, if you will), being mindful that if you tilt even slightly forward, you'll be spotted. Adrenalin courses through your veins. You're fired up, and frankly?— You're quite pissed off. With this newly found confidence, you take the picture, your phone letting out a soft click! You properly maneuver behind the wall again, going right back to his messages.
[ MESSAGES — asshole ]
[ (1) attachment ]
see you never, prick.
i'm sure you'll know where your stuff is
[ SENT✓ — 5:58PM ]
That jackass didn't even bother to read your messages? Enraged, you take a step further.
[ CONTACTS — asshole ]
[ would you like to block this number? ]
[ cancel ] [ block ]
You block him. And almost immediately, you were struggling to hold back your sobs. You move your arm in front of your face to help muffle the sound. Before you knew it, your legs had lost the strength to hold you up, having you slide down the wall, that same arm now resting on your knees. It takes a minute or two of ugly sobbing before you remember Ieiri's note that she had given to you.
You dial in her number, trying to ease your shaky breath as it rang—
"Satoru I swear if this is another prank of yours—"
And you were sent right back to the ugly sobbing.
So, yeah, here you are now— crying to Soulja Boy at god knows how early in the morning, sipping on the finest rosé you've probably ever seen (kindly handed to you by Shoko. She had dropped you off at the train station before sneaking the bottle into your bag. She wasn't quite sure what your tastes in alcohol were, or if you even drank, for that matter. In the end, she decided that the safest option would be a lighter and a more fruitier tasting wine).
The warm, summer breeze of 2012 felt crisp on your skin, gently tugging at your nightwear. You so desperately begged for eternal akinetopsia; for a moment to last forever. But, begrudgingly enough, even summer had to end at some point.
You don't even remember when you fell asleep on your balcony, and you didn't really care for that...
Until the sunlight was much too unbearable and you felt you were being scorched alive. With a small yelp, you leap up and duck into the confines of your apartment, disorientated and stumbling past furniture in the process. Only when you reach your bed do you realise the monstrous hangover you have, already bolting to your en suite to throw up. Finishing up (and making sure to brush your teeth twice over), you decide that getting some water (and maybe some tylenol?) into your system would do you some good (You're already standing anyways, the voice in your head reasons).
You were up to your third bottle of water when your brand new iPhone 5 went off.
[ —zzt! (4) unread messages! ]
Checking your phone, you were surprised to see a number you didn't recognise.
[ MESSAGES — Unknown Number ]
hi sweetheart
i heard what happened
and i just wanted to let you know there's no way satoru is deserving of you
you're far too pretty to go through all that ;)
[ READ✓ — 10:12AM ]
thanks?
but uh can i ask
who's this?
[ READ✓ — 10:12AM ]
i'm heartbroken you don't remember me baby :(
after all we've been through?
but it's cool
let me rejog your memory
hi ;)
i'm geto suguru
but you can call me whatever you like <3
[ READ✓ — 10:14AM ]
You hadn't realised it, but the name made you let out a gasp (along with an aray of memories rushing back to you). You remember long, ebony hair that spiked outwards, half-slicked into a bun. A man, despite being quiet and proper— held a sense of might and strength within his presence, demanding unspoken respect. You remember the smell of green apple sweets, and kind eyes, holding your gaze with such intensity that rendered you on the edge of your seat and short of breath. You bring yourself back to the present, blinking in shock.
This was Getou Suguru; Gojo Satoru's best friend. Your ex's best friend. The same person in your phone, sending one flirty remark after the other.
Oh. Oh.
Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise.