Chapter Text
Sukuna Ryomen’s having a party!
Those five words have spread around campus faster than herpes, which is honestly impressive considering your university’s STD rates. But everybody who knows somebody is talking about it, and for good reason; Sukuna’s probably the richest guy on campus - even Satoru might be out of the running for that title - so on the rare occasions where he decides to throw a party… It's a little insane.
“But I heard it’s supposed to be smaller this time,” Ieiri insists, arm looped with your own. “He tried bribing the cops last time and they busted him, so now he’s got to slash the guest list.”
“Are you invited?” You ask.
She shrugs flippantly. “I’m not sure yet. I know a guy who knows a guy… It's complicated. If it were anyone else hosting, I’m sure Satoru would be able to get us in no problem. But, y’know, it’s Sukuna, so…” She trails off. “...hey, did you notice Satoru’s been MIA lately?”
“Not in the slightest,” you mutter dryly.
Ieiri frowns. “Weird. Well, it’s fine! We’re going to that party.”
You can’t help but grimace. “Ieiri, I’m… I’m not sure I want to.”
She halts completely, using your linked arms as leverage to yank you to an abrupt stop. “Excuse me? When was the last time you cut loose? The bar doesn’t count.”
“Sukuna or not, in this day and age, house parties are always lame,” you counter. “It’s just a bunch of drunk people standing around and getting high.”
“It’s about the principle of it! If you get the opportunity to go to one of Sukuna’s parties, you do not miss out on it. And even if it’s boring - which I doubt it’ll be - at least you can say you were there.”
You blink. “I don’t think I really care about being able to say that, though.”
“You’re right,” she sighs, completely disregarding your protests. “Let’s wait and see if we can secure an invite before we get our hopes up.”
You’d been hoping that was the last you’d hear of Sukuna’s party today. But no, everyone’s buzzing about it, which you find completely insane - this is high-school level shit! Why are people taking it so seriously?
“He’s got a mansion, right outside of campus,” one girl sitting relatively close to you hisses. She’s been gushing to her friend non-stop for the past five minutes, the lecture in front of you going entirely disregarded. “It’s so cool. I got wasted last year and threw up off of the third floor balcony.”
Awesome, you think sourly. You genuinely hope Ieiri isn’t popular enough to obtain an invite. With Satoru out of the equation, she really might be chasing a lost cause, and that would suit you just fine.
Her only other hope would be Geto, but he only goes out whenever Satoru drags him along. Plus, you’re fairly certain he despises Sukuna just as much as Satoru does.
Thank goodness.
Your phone buzzes.
Geto
> I'm going to Sukuna's party. You should come with me.
> Ieiri's invited too
…Fuck!
—--
You were going to reject the offer and hope Geto just never brought it up to Ieiri. Honest. That was your plan, even if it meant getting a very unpleasant earful from Ieiri whenever she eventually found out.
And then, walking across campus an hour later, you’d spotted Satoru across the street - the mop of white hair combined with his tall stature was impossible to ignore, even from a distance. He didn’t notice you, of course, talking intimately with some random girl beneath a tree. Too close to her to classify it as something ‘friendly,’ and touching her too much to identify it as harmless flirting.
You felt your stomach churn. Even more so when he pulled her flush against him, one arm wrapped around her waist, murmuring something inaudible. Probably something filthy, judging by the way she’d ducked her head and giggled, face going red.
…Hence why you’d immediately turned around and taken out your phone to text Geto with trembling hands.
You
> Yeah, sounds fun
> I’ll let her know
It was a stroke of bad luck, but honestly, you were bound to witness something like that sooner or later. And you’d expected it to hurt like a bitch. But nothing could’ve prepared you for that cannonball of raw emotion shot straight through your chest.
So, a party where you could get absolutely wasted out of your mind with some of your friends minus Satoru - who you would hopefully forget about for a few hours - wasn’t sounding like such a bad idea anymore.
—--
Three days later, you’re listening to Ieiri talk as you try to apply your eyeliner evenly, glancing at the time on your phone every now and again. You’re kind of anxious to just get going already, and the Uber won’t be here for another twenty minutes.
“We should take a few shots before we leave,” Ieiri muses, dabbing on some more concealer in an attempt to lighten the dark circles beneath her eyes. “Because I heard that Sukuna made jungle juice last time, and apparently it was nasty. So we’ll have to be drunk enough to drink it, get what I mean?”
“Sure,” you mumble, still staring dull-eyed at the mirror in front of you.
Ieiri pops up behind you only a few moments later, her reflection aghast. “What? Did I just hear you agree to taking shots?” She reaches around you to slap a palm over your forehead. “Are you feeling feverish? There must be something wrong with you.”
You bat her hands away. “What? God forbid a girl goes a little crazy every now and again.”
Ieiri shuffles out of your room and presumably towards the kitchen. “You should get crazy more often.”
‘Crazy’ was hooking up with your best friend as an experiment of sorts. And look how that turned out!
She’s back within a few minutes, handing you a shot glass filled with what poignantly smells like whiskey. You didn’t even know you had whiskey. At first, you sort of sit there dumbly, face already screwed into a grimace.
Ieiri swirls her glass absentmindedly, plopping down onto the floor. “So, not that it’s a big deal or anything, but what’s up with Satoru?”
You immediately tilt your head back and down the shot like water. Everyone just loves asking you about him, huh?
“No clue,” you manage to lie through gritted teeth after a few raspy coughs.
“Really? I mean, you guys were hanging out a ton, and then suddenly… poof.”
It’s not too surprising that Ieiri knows about your multiple one-on-one get-togethers with Satoru - she was bound to notice sooner or later - but you at least have the decency to look a little sheepish about it. “Yeah, uh… I’m not sure. And sorry, we weren’t trying to exclude you or anything, it was just…” You search for an explanation that’ll fit without revealing anything too scandalous. He was giving you intimate sex ed lessons? No, that sounds deplorable.
Ieiri waves you off as she takes her shot. Then, setting the emptied glass aside, she gives you a knowing smirk. “Oh, please, stop looking so constipated over it. I’ve got secrets too, you know.”
You chuff a laugh, relaxing. “Well, if a drug empire pops up around campus anytime soon, it won’t be hard to figure out who’s running it.” Your smile falters. “But seriously, about the hangouts with Satoru, I’m sorry-”
“I already spent all of junior and senior high with him,” she cuts you off flippantly. “You’re getting your turn, and pretty soon, you’ll be just as sick of him as I got.” A finger is pointed in your direction. “But don’t you dare forget about me, alright?”
You shake your head firmly. “Ieiri, I would never. Let’s make it a point to go out more, just us two. Alright?”
“Absolutely. That’s what I’ve been trying to make happen.” She then lets out a sigh, leaning back on her palms. “But damn, I kind of miss how it used to be. Y’know, when we were young and stupid with no real responsibilities, running around together…”
“Save that talk for when you’re actually old and reminiscing in a nursing home.”
“Yeah, yeah..” She examines her nails idly. “But I’m talking about us. The iconic trio, you know? When Satoru and I were in high school, Suguru sort of filled the void that you left. But recently they’ve been all weird around each other, and now it’s the same with you two.”
Biting your lip, you offer a helpless shrug. “Things are just changing, I guess.”
“This is different.” She gives you a sharp glare. “Whatever’s going on, patch it up, because I’m tired of having my friend groups fragment into pieces.”
“Aye aye,” you reply dryly, fully-aware that things probably won’t be patched up anytime in the near or distant future. If you’re lucky, you and Satoru might redevelop a polite but strained friendship.
Fuck… there’s a sickening feeling inside of you that’s spreading throughout your chest. Trying to shake it off, you stand, holding out a hand for her to grab.
“Let’s take another shot before our Uber gets here.” Or three.
Ieiri latches onto your forearm and allows you to help her up, wide-eyed and laughing. “Seriously, who are you?”
—--
Sukuna’s mansion really does live up to the hype, and you’re not even inside yet. Nestled in a very gated community - you had no clue there were subsects to these things, gates beyond gates - and surrounded by dark woods, it almost feels like the cliche opening to a horror movie when your Uber crawls up the sprawling driveway. You can hear the music from halfway up the drive, thumping and loud, synced to the flashing multi-colored lights beyond those massive front windows.
“This is going to be awesome,” Ieiri slurs, already pretty drunk. She’d nearly finished your bottle of whiskey before you left, and you doubt she’ll remember much of the night after this.
There’s a line of cars near the front door - if you can even call it that, because you don’t think most front doors have their own archway - and Ieiri all but drags you out of the Uber as soon as it rolls to a stop, giggling like crazy.
If whatever she said about Sukuna slashing his guest list was true, then you’re appalled at the idea of what this must’ve looked like last time. There’s already at least thirty people milling about the front of the mansion, and from what you can see beyond the cracked double oak doors, the crowd inside is massive.
A burly looking guy stands right by the entrance. He eyes you both warily as you approach.
“Who invited you?”
“Suguru Geto!” Ieiri chirps.
He takes a moment to scroll through his phone, then eventually nods.
There’s no time to prepare yourself any further - into the mansion you go, with Ieiri leading you like a cow to slaughter.
It takes a minute for your ears and eyes to adjust to the overstimulation that surrounds you. Every one of your senses is being overloaded at once. Weaving through the mass of bodies, Ieiri drags you through the foyer, down a crowded hallway, and over to what looks like a kitchen, but is probably big enough to feed a literal army. There’s fewer people here - if only by a small margin - and most are just hanging out and drinking. There’s a game of cup pong on the island counter, some girl is doing body shots off of another girl on a different unidentifiable surface, and the whole thing is basically one big nightmare of stereotypes.
“You need to drink more,” Ieiri says directly into your ear, leaning heavily against you. “I can already tell you’re not gonna have a good time if you don’t.”
Nodding dazedly, you let her guide you over to the counter against the wall where a drink station is set up. She pours you a cup of… something, then hands it off with a grin.
“Chug!”
She’s right. The sooner the alcohol hits you, the sooner all of this becomes tolerable. Tilting your head back, you gulp down the mysterious liquid as quickly as you can.
It’s not as bad as you thought it’d be, but it’s still strong. Ieiri pats your back after you finish, giving you a moment to recover.
“All good?”
Things are starting to feel a little tilted, the music and lights slowly shifting to the middle of your mind rather than the forefront. “Better,” you affirm.
She pours you another cup, instructing you to take your time with this one.
“What do we do now?” You ask.
She shrugs. “Mingle! Where’s Geto?”
It’s your turn to shrug. “Somewhere.”
Truthfully, you’re not so sure you feel like seeing him right now.
But lo and behold, you spot him not even a minute later, already making his way over to you. Mei Mei’s with him too, waving eagerly at you as they approach.
“You made it!” She squeals, throwing her arms around Ieiri, and then you. “It’s your first time coming to one of Sukuna’s parties, right?”
“And maybe the last,” you answer, but it doesn’t come off as jokingly as you’d hoped. Frowning, Mei Mei, taps your nose.
“Just give it a little time! You’ll have fun, I promise.”
Geto greets you next, smiling serenely. “I’m glad you made it,” he says.
You sort of just nod in response.
Ieiri starts asking about whether they know anyone else here, and you can’t help but start to tune the conversation out, sipping on your drink every now and again. And although being mind-numbingly tipsy is helping, you’re still regretting your decision to come here in the first place.
“-let’s go find her!”
And then Ieiri and Mei Mei are leaving, shouting that they’ll be back soon, which leaves you with Geto. Alone. Sort of. As alone as you can be in a crowded space like this.
You drink more.
“Are you alright?” Geto asks, a hand coming to rest on your upper arm.
Nodding, you try to tap back into reality. “Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little… weird. House parties aren’t really my scene.”
Is it your imagination, or is Geto closer than he was a few seconds ago? “You’re cute,” he laughs. The neon lighting blurs his expression into something indecipherable.
“You keep saying that.” The liquor is making you more honest than usual. Are there really no other compliments in his arsenal? You’re docile, you’re shy, and that’s all he seems to think about you.
“Because I mean it.”
He’s definitely closer now. A large hand gently slides over your waist.
And then Geto is pressing you against the counter behind you - not with any real force, mind you - his hands sliding over your hips. For a second, you freeze, totally caught off-guard. What’s happening?
His eyes widen when he sees how startled you look, and carefully, he takes a step back. “Sorry,” he half-laughs, shaking his head. “I got a little caught up in the moment.”
The part of you - albeit tiny - that still feels something for him urges you to chase after the rapidly closing opportunity in front of you. Regardless of whether it’s a good idea or not. Regardless of whether you even want him anymore.
“No, I…”
From here, you can see slightly past Geto’s arm into the open space of the living room just ahead. There’s a large swarm of people crammed together, dancing, talking, kissing. Probably a small fraction of the total guest count.
And yet, somehow, he’s there. Right there. Thirty feet ahead of you near the edge of the crowd, an arm loosely draped around the same girl he was with when you saw him last.
Satoru Gojo is at the same party as you are.
It’s just your fucking luck.
Geto’s closer again. “Hm? What was that?”
Why is he even here? He hates Sukuna, and Sukuna wouldn’t dare invite him. Maybe it’s his ‘date’ who encouraged him to come. Begged him to take her. That’s probably it, right?
Somehow, it would’ve felt a million times better if he’d brought a new girl. A fresh face to confirm that yes, he’s the non-committal bastard he’s always been. Running away from his feelings time and time again. But no, he’s clearly taken a liking to this random chick. At least, enough to see her more than once.
What does she have that you don’t?
You hate how badly you want to know about their relationship with one another. You hate how jealous you feel, white hot fury seeping through your skin.
But then Satoru’s looking at you. Directly at you. And you can immediately tell, from how quickly his gaze locks onto yours, that he’s been stealing glances for a while now.
What’s crazier is that he looks pissed.
Geto sidesteps to block your view, aiming to recapture your attention. “You’re distracted,” he murmurs.
You glance up at him. And his face, which once made your heart pound so rapidly within your chest, instills nothing but a sense of hollowness inside of you.
His eyes are darker and emptier than you remember.
“I am,” you answer flatly.
“Well,” Geto murmurs, leaning down. “That just won’t do.”
You could stop him if you wanted to. He’s giving you ample time to pull away, taking a moment to press your body against his.
Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and bridge the distance.
Kissing Geto is nothing like kissing Satoru. There’s a hardness to it, a strange sense of belittlement, that you couldn’t enjoy even if you tried.
But the point isn’t to enjoy it. Not anymore.
Satoru’s staring for a reason. And you hope he gets to witness every agonizing second of this.
Geto eventually pulls away, sort of smiling. He looks almost pleased with himself, like he’d expected this to happen from the beginning. And when you manage to peer around him again, there’s no sign of Satoru nor his date. You can’t help but wonder if you’d just imagined him being there in the first place.
It’s the final straw. Geto’s saying something, but you interrupt him with a vague excuse about needing the bathroom, and before he can utter another word, you turn tail and flee.
The only good thing about this stupid house party is that Sukuna’s mansion is large enough to easily get lost in. You turn down countless hallways and climb a few random flights of stairs, bumping past people left and right.
You just need to be alone right now.
The first door you try is locked. The second opens, only to reveal a dark room and what definitely sounds like a couple having some really drunk sex.
The third is, miraculously, empty.
You shut the door behind you, taking a moment to just breathe.
Everything sucks.
There’s a bed in here, some furniture, and a nice balcony overlooking the inner courtyard of the mansion. After only a moment of deliberation - a part of you stresses over the prospect of having ‘bad manners,’ before you remember there’s a couple getting it on down the hall - you trudge further inside to sit on the edge of the bed.
Kissing Geto was such a dumb idea. Almost as dumb as kissing Satoru, all those months ago.
You can still hear the music thumping faintly beneath your feet. All of this feels like a feverish hallucination of sorts, and you’re ready for it to be over.
There’s no avoiding it. You don’t like Geto anymore, and quite frankly, you don’t think he likes you very much either. At least, not in the way you’d once hoped he would. He looks at you like you’re just amusing to him.
The door abruptly opens, light flooding into the room.
“You’ve got one minute to get dressed and get the fuck outta this room- huh?”
Blood-red eyes regard you with a mixture of confusion and contempt. And even though you’ve never actually seen him up close before, the wild pink hair and thick tattoos that wrap around his arms and wrists are identifying enough.
Sukuna tilts his head, still trying to work out what exactly you’re doing in here. He’s wearing a low-cut wife-beater with some jeans, and the look is really playing into the whole ‘frat boy douchebag’ vibe that you’ve heard so much about.
“You smokin’ something?” He asks accusingly. “Or if you’re shooting up, you sure as shit can’t do it in my fucking house.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, uh- sorry, I was just… chilling out.”
He snorts, taking a step closer. “You came to my party to chill out in an empty bedroom?”
Standing, you raise your arms in surrender. You’ve heard many rumors about Sukuna over the years, and none of them paint him in a good light. Suffice to say, you should probably make a speedy exit. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”
Surprisingly, he gestures for you to stop, his massive body blocking the doorway. “Hold on. I’ve seen you around. You’re Satoru’s girl, right?”
Oh God. “No, we’re… just friends.”
Sukuna smirks at that, as though challenging you to repeat yourself. “Really?”
The last remnants of your restraint finally snap. “Yes, really. If you don’t believe me, you can go watch him swap spit with his selection of the week downstairs.”
Wow, that came out way more aggressive than you’d intended it to be.
Thankfully, Sukuna just laughs. But it’s definitely at you rather than with you. “Oh. So that’s how it is.”
You don’t even bother arguing, arms folded protectively against yourself. “Yep. Men suck, and I’m experiencing the consequences of believing otherwise. Happy?”
Sukuna steps further into the room, letting the door drift nearly shut behind him. “Don’t feel too stupid, it’s that bastard’s M.O. But I thought you would’ve known that, being his friend and all.”
You turn your head away in shame. “Fuck off.”
“Nah, not yet.” He crosses the room towards you, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. “This is interesting.”
You’re sober enough to realize that this is a potentially dangerous situation, but drunk enough to let your guard down anyways. Plopping back onto the bed, you glare at Sukuna as he approaches. “Why’d you invite him? This was supposed to be my getaway, you know.”
Sukuna takes a seat beside you, the bed dipping beneath his weight.
“I didn’t.”
“Great,” you grumble. “So, why not kick him out?”
Head tilted back, Sukuna regards the ceiling for a moment. “He can be… entertaining to watch, at times. And I guess I’m feeling unusually charitable tonight.” You’re then met with a too-wide grin. “But if you really wanted me to get rid of him, I’d consider it.”
You give him a deadpan look. “Why? You don’t even know me.”
“For fun, obviously. This party’s getting boring, anyways.”
Eager to change the topic, you pick the first subject you can think of. “Since when are you friends with Geto? He said you invited him.”
Leaning back on his palms, Sukuna shrugs. “Since we found out we’ve got quite a bit in common.”
“Like?”
He grins, but it’s definitely malicious this time around. “I don’t think you’d want to know.”
He’s right, you probably don’t. And hey, why’s this guy who you’ve heard nothing but unsettling anecdotes about being so nice?
“So, do you wanna get back at him?”
“Huh?”
Sukuna rolls his eyes. “At Satoru. Do you want to get back at him?”
You feel like you’re missing something overtly obvious here. “How?”
Sukuna gives you a once-over. “You’re not my type, but… we could figure something out.”
There’s no genuine interest in his gaze, but the implications are clear.
“Nah.” You’re surprised by how casually you manage to turn him down.
“You sure? It could be fun.”
“Well, you’re not really my type either.” Sure, Sukuna’s attractive, but… there’s something about him that you just can’t seem to mesh with.
He chuckles, but there’s a strange quality to it. “You’re more into flaky pretty boys?”
“Unfortunately.”
Sukuna leans a little closer. “I bet I could change your preferences,” he purrs.
You should probably feel more scared than you are right now. Instead, you laugh, pushing him away like he’s an old friend and not some strange man sitting with you in a dark room. “Ew. Does that line usually work for you?”
Sukuna takes your hand, using it to tug you towards him. “You’d be surprised.”
You grimace, trying to wiggle away from him. “You’re right, I would.”
Sukuna doesn’t relent. “C’mon, I bet a few marks will piss him off like nothing else.”
Piss him off? Why would Sukuna know that?
You don’t get the chance to decline again before the door opens quite abruptly for the second time tonight.
Satoru stands in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes then flicker to Sukuna, who’s still got an iron-clad grip on your arm and is nearly smushing you against his chest.
The expression on his face is murderous. Sukuna, on the other hand, looks ecstatic. Like he was just waiting for this very scenario to play out.
“Get the fuck off of her,” Satoru snarls, crossing the room in three quick strides to yank Sukuna away from you, fist curling in the collar of his tank top.
“Satoru-!” You interject, horrified, but your cries fall on deaf ears.
“You’re mad she’s with me?” Sukuna taunts, roughly shoving Satoru backwards. “That’s funny, because Suguru told me you crashed my party with a date in tow-”
Satoru shoves him right back. “-If you so much as fucking touched her-”
“So what if I did? She seemed to be into it-”
Their voices are overlapping, growing increasingly louder and louder with every syllable.
“-I’ll rip your fingers off one by one.”
“Damn, if I knew how obsessed you were, I would’ve fucked her months ago.”
You have no clue what to do, frozen in place as they continue to shout at one another, seconds away from a full-on brawl.
“As if you’d get that far, you ugly motherfucker.”
Sukuna laughs uproariously. “Me? Ugly? Be serious now, she’s not even close to being in my league. But I’d make sure to finish inside of her, just to ruin her for you-”
There’s a heavy thud as Satoru’s fist makes contact with Sukuna’s face. You cover your mouth in shock as Sukuna topples backwards clutching his jaw dazedly.
His blood-red eyes seem to gleam with excitement. “Finally,” he rasps, quick on the recovery and already trying to get back on his feet. But the blow has left him disoriented, and he stumbles, falling back to the ground.
You don’t try to think. There’s no time. You just dart across the room with both hands outstretched, grab Satoru, and tug him with all your might towards the door.
“Let’s go!” You hiss at him.
“No, he’s had this coming for a long fucking time-” Satoru’s hardly budging, glaring down at Sukuna as he tries to push himself to a standing position once again.
“You’re fuckin’ dead,” Sukuna rasps, regaining clarity at a startling pace. “Been waiting for this moment-”
You clutch at Satoru more desperately, close to tears. “Satoru, please!”
He finally glances back at you, eyes wild and frenzied. There’s a split-second decision for him to make - stay and brawl with Sukuna, or follow you and get the hell out of here.
For once, he chooses you.
You’d been leading him at first, the both of you toppling down the hallway in search of the main staircase. But Satoru’s long legs mean that, soon enough, he’s practically dragging you behind him. Sukuna’s most likely hot in pursuit - you think you hear him shout something from far behind - but it’ll be hard to find you amidst the crowd. Satoru pushes his way past body after body, avoiding the front entrance to the mansion and instead guiding you out of the patio doors. You wonder if he’s taking the same route he used to sneak in.
The fresh air does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. You don’t think you’ll feel remotely safe until you’ve gotten at least a mile or two away from here.
You and Satoru sprint across the manicured lawn, weaving through smaller groups of guests until you finally reach the stone outer walls of the backyard. They’re at least nine feet tall, stretching around the perimeter of the backyard with no visible exits in sight. For a moment you panic, certain you’ve met a dead-end.
But Satoru simply crouches down, stacking his upturned hands to create a makeshift step for you.
“Heels off,” he says, as though this is a perfectly normal and sane thing to be doing.
But, with no other options, you hastily wiggle out of your shoes, clutching them in one hand. Taking a steadying breath, you hesitantly place one foot on his palms.
“It’s ok,” he assures you. “Just grab the ledge and pull yourself up. Simple.”
No, not simple. But it’s too late to turn back now.
And then he’s lifting you up, far faster than you’d anticipated - you nearly topple sideways, barely snatching hold of the ledge in time - until you’re high enough to drag the rest of your shaking body onto the ledge.
Satoru follows only seconds after, scaling the wall like an agile cat. He’s over the other side almost immediately, dropping onto the ground with a faint grunt.
You peer over the edge, feeling a little nauseous. It hadn’t seemed so high when you were looking up at it, but now…
“Just drop!” Satoru insists, arms outstretched towards you. “It’s not that far.”
‘Liquid courage’ is not living up to the name. You’re petrified right now.
“I can’t,” you wheeze, nails digging into the stone beneath you.
He glares up at you, clearly frustrated. “Drop. I’ll catch you.”
You’re still pissed off at him. Very much so. But even despite that, not much can erode a lifetime of built trust. So, swinging your legs over the edge, you ignore every signal in your body that screams for you to stop, and push yourself off.
True to his word, Satoru catches you - albeit a little uncomfortably - setting you down on the grass with a nod.
“There. Easy.”
You rub your arms anxiously, glancing around. There’s nothing but forest on this side of the wall, and it’s really starting to freak you out. “Can we just get out of here already?”
But apparently, now that Sukuna is out of the equation, Satoru has decided it’s the perfect time to grill you.
“You kissed Suguru.”
He’s staring at you blankly, words accusatory and sharp. It’s as though he knows you did it just to try and rile him up.
You shrug, trying to appear as flippant as possible whilst leaning against the stone wall behind you. “So?”
“So, you kiss Suguru, then ten minutes later, you’re cozying up with Sukuna?”
Gawking at him, your brows pull into a tight frown. Gone is the nonchalant attitude you’d tried to adopt, because you’re certainly not a fan of what he - of all people - is trying to insinuate about you. “Excuse me?”
He steps closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “You heard me.”
“I was not cozying up with him. He found me alone, and started making advances on me.” Your nose scrunches in distaste. “But clearly, it was just to piss you off.”
Satoru’s still struggling to make a coherent point. “But you were alone. Why’d you go off alone? At one of Sukuna’s parties, no less.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed a chaperone,” you spit back icily.
He leans towards you, and there’s something unmistakably desperate about his tone. The scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. “You were with Suguru. You kissed him. So why’d I find you with Sukuna?”
You push him away, but the flat of your palm never leaves his chest. “Where’s your date, Satoru?”
“Who cares?” He hisses, arm raising to grip at your wrist.
“She does! You’re harping on me for going off by myself, but you left her alone-”
“She’s with her friends,” he cuts you off. “And you left Suguru alone, didn’t you?”
“That’s different!” Wrenching your arm away, you shove him away from you with real force this time, genuinely furious. “You brought that girl here. You probably invited her, gave her high expectations, just to ditch her the second something else caught your eye.”
“She invited me,” Satoru corrects, eyes narrowed. “And Suguru invited you, probably with the exact same ‘expectations’ you’re blubbering about. So we’re really in the same boat here.” He laughs sardonically. “Two assholes who left their dates high and dry.”
You’re grasping at straws now, struggling to explain what you see as a very clear disparity between the two situations. “It’s- it’s not the same!”
“Why not?” He presses.
“Because I don’t think Geto even likes me!” You hiss. “But that girl-”
“-What do you mean you don’t think Geto likes you?” Satoru interrupts immediately, laughing incredulously. “Aren’t you two…?”
You chew on your bottom lip, unsure of how to phrase your next words. “No. I can just- I can tell, alright? He doesn’t look at me like he actually sees me. He just treats me like…” Realizing that you’re getting off-topic, the fire inside of you reignites. Petulantly, you fold your arms and glare at Satoru. “...I don’t think he actually likes me. That’s it.”
Satoru blinks, gazing at you almost dumbly.
“Well, he fucking should.”
It’s the liquor talking. It’s the liquor and the jealousy, you’re certain of it. And even still, your heart surges like you’ve just plunged down the precipice of a rollercoaster, beating too fast and loud in the stillness of the night.
Satoru’s pushing you against the wall before you can even properly register what’s happening. He kisses you roughly, desperately, clutching you like he’s terrified you’ll disappear.
You shouldn’t kiss him back. You shouldn’t rake your nails down his back like you do, swallowing his breathy groans and sliding your tongue against his.
But clearly, you’re in an era of terrible decisions.
“We’re leaving,” Satoru parts from you long enough to state. His eyes are lidded, gaze heavy with desire.
You nod, already tugging him back down to meet your lips again.
What’s one more mistake?