Chapter Text
“Thank you for coming!”
“Thank you very much for today!”
The chorus of cafe staff voices are cheerful and bright, as if the first floor employees really had no idea what happened upstairs. Gojou Satoru grins and waves with one hand, the other hand still intertwined with Suguru’s. The red marks on Suguru’s wrist are starting to settle.
Getou Suguru’s hand is warm. The skin of his palm is callused, but mostly smooth. The heat of their hands is making Satoru’s palm sweat, even in the strong AC blast of the cafe. Satoru watches Suguru smile casually at the cafe employees, as Mimiko and Nanako politely nod at the staff. Nanako holds onto Suguru’s other hand, and tugs gently at her sister as they step towards the glass cafe doors.
Satoru pulls open the door, the summer heat gusting over his face. He squints, weary eyes burning, and gestures for the kids to head out first. Mimiko and Nanako hurry out of the cafe, and Suguru follows along, his wide yukata sleeve brushing along Satoru’s bare arm as he moves. Satoru lets the door shut behind him, staring at the few strands of hair clinging to the side of Suguru’s neck.
It’s been three years since he last saw Suguru, and it’s been even longer since he’s held Suguru’s hand. He’s only ever held Suguru’s hand a few times, and only once with their fingers intertwined like this. Satoru feels himself flush, and rubs his nose slightly, still sniffling.
It’s a bit different than he remembers— both of them a little older, rougher, and stronger, but the feeling is still the same.
The sun is bright and hot, the air humid and heavy in Tokyo’s August. Together, they walk a few steps away from the cafe doors, just far enough that they’re not in the way. On unspoken agreement, they come to a shaded area of the sidewalk, away from the sun and the slow trickle of people. The “Happy Life” cafe is in a small alleyway secluded from the main Harajuku streets, and there’s not that many people walking around on a weekday.
In natural light, Suguru’s yukata shines bright white, the thin gray threads glowing silver. Mimiko and Nanako’s matching floral yukata prints are colorful and dazzling in the slight summer breeze.
Satoru grins at Mimiko, who’s adjusting the fluttering pink flower in her hair. “The two of you are so cute in yukata! Did Suguru pick them out for you?”
Mimiko blushes and smiles. “Yeah. We wanted to try wearing yukata to come to Harajuku!”
“So Getou-sama took us to try some on!” Nanako adds.
“Ohhhh,” Satoru hums, looking at Suguru from the corner of his eye. “Did Suguru get fitted with you all, too?”
“Yeah!”
“We picked our yukata together!”
Satoru laughs. “Well, you all look so nice!”
Mimiko and Nanako giggle, turning around to show off their matching obi belt designs.
“Thank you!”
“Thank you, Satoru-san!”
“And everyone kinda matches,” Satoru says, turning towards Suguru, feeling his smile soften. “I’ve never seen you wear yukata before.”
Suguru smiles back, letting go of Nanako’s hand to smooth his hair off his face. “We’ve never really had a chance to, back then.”
Satoru pouts. “Well, I’ve always tried to get us to go to a summer matsuri!”
Suguru chuckles. “Summer’s always been the busiest times for us, you know that.”
“I guess so,” Satoru murmurs, glancing down at his own white t-shirt, dark blue pants, and sandals. “Next time, I’ll wear yukata too. We can all match, next time.”
Satoru looks up quickly. “But you look really good, Suguru,” Satoru adds, staring at the way Suguru’s silvery-gray belt is drawn snug across his hips. The fabric of his yukata looks soft and thin, clinging to the shape of Suguru’s long legs.
The heat and bright sunlight dancing in shadows over their feet tells Satoru that it’s probably closer to noon, now. His eyes feel dry and sore, after crying and all that. He tugs his gaze back up to Suguru’s face and grins, just as Suguru ducks his own gaze away.
“I suppose the cafe will never let us back in again,” Suguru says suddenly, changing the subject. “Mimiko, Nanako, did you like that place?”
Mimiko and Nanako nod, eyes glancing towards Satoru.
“I did!”
“I did too!”
Satoru laughs, then nudges Suguru gently with his elbow. “Why wouldn’t they? We were the most interesting customers they’ve ever had! And we paid them a lot of money!”
“Satoru…you rammed a hole in their wall, you shouted at me for basically an hour, you started a…physical altercation, then you dumped money on the floor, and you stole my money—”
“Oh, like you didn’t do anything? You broke their floor tiles! And you shouted too! I didn’t steal your money, you—”
“Alright alright,” Suguru interrupts, gesturing for Satoru to stop. “…At least the food was good.”
Satoru nods. “And nobody in the restaurant complained.”
Suguru shrugs, then smirks a little at Satoru. “Shouldn’t you be doing something about the people who were taking pictures and filming us? You used Limitless, you know.”
“Not my problem people are so obsessed with us," Satoru grins, puffing his chest out. "That was like a real TV drama scene or something, you know, like ‘tearful dramatic reunion with the ex-wife who still loves me!’ Something like that.”
“What ex-wife, huh? Satoru, you dumbass—”
“You’re the one who ended up with two kids! And your clothes, your hair—”
“You said you took in kids too! And my clothes and my hair? Your sunglasses and—”
“I look good in sunglasses! You’ve said so!”
Suguru flushes. “I’ve never said that.”
Satoru grins. “You totally have. Just once, but you did tell me I look good.”
Suguru rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are still flushed. Satoru grins even wider, feeling light and weightless, tethered only to Suguru holding his hand.
Suguru ducks his face and touches his bangs, brushing damp strands of hair off his forehead and temples. He gathers most of his long, dark hair off his yukata collar, and gently flips it off the back of his neck. Out here, in the shaded sunlight, Suguru’s yukata glows white, the fabric thin and clinging to Suguru’s shoulders, exposing the skin of his collarbones. Satoru stares at the soft sheen of Suguru’s skin, the pink of his cheeks, and feels his own heartbeat speed up, skin tingling in the oppressive summer heat.
Satoru steps closer to Suguru, their sleeves and bare forearms brushing together.
Suguru raises an eyebrow at him, earrings catching the light. “I definitely don’t remember telling you anything like that.”
“Well, maybe,” Satoru laughs softly. “But I definitely remember. Everything about you, I remember.”
Suguru flushes even more, tips of his ears red. They’ve moved closer now, close enough for Satoru to see the small freckles on Suguru’s upturned nose, the tiny drops of sweat on Suguru’s smooth forehead. The slight shine on Suguru’s lips, soft and pink. Satoru feels his eyes burn, with how hard he’s staring at the way Suguru’s lips part on a shaky inhale.
“Satoru, I…” Suguru’s gaze drops gently, dark lashes fluttering. “We...”
“Suguru,” Satoru breathes, enraptured by how Suguru tilts his face up to meet him. “Come back to my house with me. Now?”
Suguru sighs, exhaling into the scant space between them. “And then what? What do you even think can come out of this, Satoru?”
Satoru touches his forehead to Suguru’s, brushing the tips of their noses together. He closes his eyes and lets his gaze rest, feels Suguru’s breath on his lips. Their proximity is making his heart pound, his skin sweat, desire hot and thick in his veins.
“I just cried and confessed to you in public,” Satoru murmurs. “I’ve liked you since our first year in high school and it’s been years since I last saw you. Can’t I want to just stay with you a while longer?”
Suguru breathes out a soft laugh, voice trembling. “Ah…I suppose you can, yeah.”
“And...Suguru,” Satoru whispers, throat dry. He traces the side of Suguru’s nose with his, feels more than hears Suguru’s quick inhale. “We don’t...have to do anything, you know. If you…don’t want to.”
“I know,” Suguru whispers back, then clears his throat gently. “Well…since we did end up meeting today…might as well use this time to catch up with each other.”
Satoru grins, then pulls back to stare at Suguru.
Suguru’s cheeks are still a little pink, and he’s smiling, soft and tentative. His eyes are bright in the shaded light of summer.
“So that’s a yes, right?”
“Yes, let’s go to your house, you idiot. Can’t even imagine you as a teacher, honestly.”
Satoru laughs, then looks around. They’re still standing in the same spot on the sidewalk, and apparently people have been giving them a wide berth as they walk past. Suguru’s hand— the one that Satoru is not holding— is firmly clasped onto Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru’s free hand is on Suguru’s waist, and he gives Suguru a quick squeeze. Suguru glares, then steps out from their embrace.
Satoru beams, holding tight onto Suguru’s hand. “Can’t believe I came to this place for brunch and now I’m taking you home ‘to go’!”
Suguru groans. “I regret this already.” He glances at the twins and reaches for something in his bag.
Satoru chuckles, and looks to the girls. Mimiko and Nanako are still standing close, but their arms are crossed impatiently. They're staring absentmindedly at the neighboring shops, probably feeling tired in this heat and humidity. The girls quickly perk up when Suguru crouches down to talk with them, phone now in hand.
“Mimiko, Nanako, sorry about this,” Suguru smiles. “You wanted to keep shopping in Harajuku, right? Let me call a few people to keep you two company. Who would you like to stay with you here?”
Satoru crouches down too, shoulder brushing against Suguru’s.
Mimiko and Nanako frown, little faces pinching as they glance at each other.
“But, Getou-sama…we want to stay with you!”
“Yeah! Take us with you!”
Suguru frowns and raises one eyebrow, tilting his head. “You don’t want to stay in Harajuku? What about the desserts, and shopping?”
Mimiko shakes her head. “Want to stay with you!”
Nanko nods, glancing at Satoru before looking back to Suguru. “And Satoru-san, too! We can come back to Harajuku some other time!”
“Really?” Suguru frowns deeper and squints. “I don’t think—”
“Ahhhhhh,” Satoru interrupts, grinning. “Mimiko and Nanako can totally come with us!”
Suguru whips his head around with a glare. SHUT UP, he mouths silently.
Satoru gives a thumb’s up. “I have a big TV! And Sailor Moon DVDs! You two like Sailor Moon, right?”
Mimiko and Nanako look at Satoru, tilting their heads curiously like little birds. “Sailor Moon?”
Satoru gasps exaggeratedly. “You’ve never seen Sailor Moon? It’s only the best anime on Earth!”
The girls giggle, hands flying up to touch their own cheeks.
“It’s the truth!” Satoru adds, still grinning widely. “Plus, I have ice cream at home! Anyway, if you two don’t like Sailor Moon, I have Inuyasha DVDs. If you two can read some words, I have the manga for both of the series too.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully, tapping at his chin with his phone. “Is Inuyasha even appropriate for kids?”
Satoru shrugs. “Is Sailor Moon more appropriate for kids?”
Mimiko and Nanako turn back towards Suguru, eyes shining.
“Getou-sama, please let us come with you and Satoru-san!”
“Please, Getou-sama!”
“Yeah, Getou-sama,” Satoru winks slyly at Suguru, nudging his shoulder. “Let’s all go back to my house.”
“Satoru, shut up,” Suguru hisses, then clears his throat to smile at the girls. “And what do we do when we go to other people’s houses to play?”
“Be a good house guest!”
“Behave ourselves!”
Satoru laughs. “They’ll be fine, Suguru! Staying cool indoors with the AC on, watching TV, eating ice cream— it’ll be fun!”
Mimiko nods. “We’ll be good!”
Nanako clasps her hands together in a wide-eyed plea. “Please?”
Suguru sighs. “Okay. But you’ll be Satoru’s guests, alright?”
“Yes! Thank you, Getou-sama!”
“Thank you so much!”
Suguru stands, brushing off imaginary dust from his yukata. He scowls at Satoru and tugs at their hands, still intertwined.
Satoru smiles as he stands, leaning in close to Suguru. “You spoil them a lot.”
“They’re good kids,” Suguru shrugs, then narrows his eyes at Satoru. “You, on the other hand…”
“What about me?”
“…We’re using a ‘curtain’ when we get to your place.”
“Oh?” Satoru smirks. “Were you thinking of doing something not suitable for the eyes and ears of young children, Suguru?”
“…”
“But I’m totally fine with that!” Satoru announces. “You’ve taught them about the curtain?” He nods toward the girls, who are now staring at them curiously.
Suguru nods. “Yeah, I’ve taught them the basics. Mimiko, Nanako, do you remember what a ‘curtain’ is?”
Mimiko clears her throat. “‘Curtain’ is a type of barrier technique that a jujutsu sorcerer can use to conceal activities in a selected area, taking the shape of a dome.”
“The effectiveness of a curtain depends on the situation, but generally, the stronger the curtain is on the inside, the weaker it is on the outside.” Nanko recites.
“Wow!” Satoru exclaims. “Perfect answer! 100 points all around! Suguru really has both of you memorizing all these big words, huh?”
Suguru ignores him and smiles at the girls. “That’s right! Great job!”
The girls giggle and flush, turning towards each other shyly as Suguru continues to compliment them. Satoru smiles, watching the girls bask in the attention.
Suguru really is great at teaching. It’s clear that the girls memorized the exact way Suguru explained the curtain to them, just to impress him. Satoru can easily imagine Suguru saying those exact words as he teaches— maybe drawing it out on a piece of paper for the girls, making careful diagrams and notes in his beautiful handwriting, answering questions patiently.
The twins understood the concept, explained the functions concisely, and offered an elaboration on more complex variations of the technique. It’s more than Satoru could expect from Megumi at this point, probably.
Satoru looks at the girls, their big round eyes shining with stars. He looks to Suguru, smiling and gesturing with his free hand, beautiful and glowing in the summer shade.
He remembers studying and doing homework with Suguru at the Mister Donut by the train station near school. Well, they both did their assignments and turned them in on time (mostly), but Suguru was the only one who always studied for exams. Satoru ate custard cream donuts and drank vanilla shakes, while Suguru read and took notes, his handwriting nice and neat.
Suguru only ever ordered the same things at Mister Donut— a cup of donut holes and an iced tea, but he’d always have a little bite of whatever Satoru ordered. They always sat at the same four-person table in the back, too.
Satoru remembers watching Suguru turn the page on their social studies textbook, spinning his pencil in his other hand. Suguru’s long fingers and perfect nails, fingertips tracing the words as he read along. Suguru frowning in concentration, eyelashes downcast and lips parted.
The lights casting a golden glow on Suguru’s dark hair, as he ducked his head to write in his notebook.
Satoru remembers nudging his foot against Suguru’s under the table, and Suguru nudging back. Sometimes they’d devolve into a shuffle-fight right there in the cafe, and sometimes Suguru would ignore him until Satoru leaned over to doodle on Suguru’s notes. Sometimes, Suguru would glance up and smile at him, showing Satoru what he wrote.
Suguru explaining whatever new and interesting thing he noticed, eyes lighting up as he gestured with his hands.
Satoru knows exactly when, how, and why he fell in love. The problem was, of course, that Satoru assumed he knew everything.
Now, Suguru laughs at something the girls say, hand coming up to smooth his long, dark hair off his shoulder.
Satoru feels his heart skip a beat. He squeezes their intertwined hands, warm and just a little rough.
It’s more than wistful, seeing Suguru enjoying a whole new life without him. Satoru only ever wanted to keep him— Suguru’s attention, his care, his time, his laughter. Everything that Suguru gave him— Satoru wants more, and for forever.
Satoru looks back at the twins talking excitedly, their matching little faces blushing under Suguru’s gentle attention.
It’s nice, isn’t it, Satoru thinks. Having Suguru show you new things in the world so easily and carefully. Letting him take care of you so gently.
Who wouldn’t fall in love with Getou Suguru?
—
Footnotes:
1. Matsuri is the Japanese word for “festival.” These types of festivals are especially popular during the summer, when there are fireworks as well. A summer festival is a typical nice romantic date spot, and people may choose to wear yukata.
2. The phrase “to go” or “takeout” (お持ち帰り) in Japanese can take on a sexual connotation, especially when used by men to describe “taking home” women they met at a social occasion at a restaurant. Here, Gojou is saying that he is “taking home” Getou, in this kind of sexual way.
3. Mister Donut is a chain brand dessert shop/cafe in Japan and other areas in East Asia. They sell donut holes, which I thought would be fitting for Getou, since donut holes are spherical.
4. I referenced the Jujutsu Kaisen wiki page when writing the stuff about the curtain.
Now with a beautiful art commission (Link) by @Solastria:
Mood board (Link):
