Chapters alternate between the past and the present. This one takes place before the first chapter.
Gojo Satoru is a terrible drunk.
The type of drunk that makes you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance. And worse, you are the only person he calls when he drowns his sorrows in alcohol.
"Utahime is free tonight, too, you know," you grumble as you drag him out of the bar with his long arm thrown around your shoulders.
"She hates my guts," he hiccups and leans heavily into you with every step.
"What makes you think I don't?"
"Nah, you loooove me," he says and playfully tries to kiss you. You expertly evade his puckered lips, setting a faster pace to get this over with.
"Don't even think of teleporting yourself," you warn him as you feel his cursed energy rise. You earn a pout in return.
"You're no fun. I wonder what Suguru sees in you."
"The same thing he sees in you. We're all friends, remember?" you clear your throat. When he bangs his head into a pole for leaning too far away from you, you don't feel too guilty.
"Ouch! Aren't you supposed to take care of me? I'm so vulnerable, anyone could take advantage of me," he whines and rubs his forehead.
Jesus, how much did he drink? If he doesn't even put up his Limitless, he has to be at least three drinks in. And you always decide to stay away from him by the second if you ever go out together.
His sunglasses are askew, so you reach up and adjust them. He catches your wrist.
"Hey, you," he leans in close. So close that you can see the unnatural blue of his eyes behind his shades.
"What?" you ask back, not bothering to hide your irritated tone when he stops walking.
"If you had to choose between me and Suguru, who would you pick?"
You briefly consider knocking him out and dragging his unconscious body back to Jujutsu High, but you do feel bad for him. He never drinks without reason, and he was a pathetic lightweight.
"Neither. I like Utahime and Shoko most," you answer, because the truth is too complicated to explain.
"No fair! That's because you are girls," he grumbles, much like a child. A very tall, unbalanced child.
"Exactly. Now, can you keep walking? Ijichi is waiting two streets ahead."
You make it a few steps until he speaks up again. A record.
"Your hair smells good," he mumbles and buries his nose into your strands, bumping his nose against your neck.
He is almost folded in half with the way he's bent. You are a head shorter than him, a fact that he never let you live down.
"Thanks. Don't throw up in it, please."
"Do you know why I only call you when I'm drunk?"
His tone changes into something unreadable. Like he prepared himself to say this to you.
"I figured you got used to me taking care of you. You could call Suguru every now and then, you know."
"Suguru, yeah, yeah," he said and dismissively waved his hand. He glances at you in a way that could only be describes as predatory. "I call you so I can touch you however I want."
Ah. You forget one detail when describing a drunk Gojo Satoru. He is a terrible flirt.
"Gross," you whisper but you couldn't help the blush creeping on your face.
"Aww, did I make you blush?" he calls out and chuckles at your pissed-off grimace. "I'm just kidding. Wanted to see if I still got it in me."
"You are horrible. I can't wait for your hangover tomorrow."
After several minutes, you make it to the car waiting for you. During the whole drive back to the school, Satoru puts his head in your lap.
Feeling bad for calling him all kinds of things and letting him walk into a pole, you absentmindedly stroke his hair with your fingers, combing the silky white strands and massaging his scalp. You wonder what the reason for his nightly escapade is, but if you were to ask, he would only evade the question.
You call Suguru on your phone, asking him to help you carry Satoru back to his dorm. He obliges, as reliable as ever, and you ask him if he wants to watch a movie with you afterwards.
"Yes, sure. Your pick or mine?"
"You can pick. Just no horror movies, please," you answer, playing with Satoru's hair while holding the phone in your other hand.
Suguru chuckles and it makes your stomach somersault. "Alright, I'll pick a tame one. Is everything okay with Satoru?"
You look down. His eyes are closed, white eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. "I think he fell asleep."
"He must have drunk too much, then."
"What else is new?" you sigh.
The car slows down to a halt and you see the silhouette of Geto Suguru walking towards you.
He doesn't even blink an eye when he opens the car door, pulls Satoru up by his arm and throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Oh, fuck off, Suguru. That hurt," Satoru whimpers and you pray that he doesn't retch all over Suguru's back.
The dark-haired man holds the door open for you to climb out. You walk around him and flick Satoru on his forehead.
"Stop drinking your body weight in liquor, then. I won't always be there to pick you up. I could be on missions," you warn him.
The strange coincidence that he never drinks when you are away doesn't occur to you at the time.
"But then I can't witness you fuss all over me," he pouts, and you exchange a glance with Suguru who apparently finds the whole situation hilarious.
He claps a hand over Satoru's backside ("Ow!"), and smiles at you softly. "I'm going to deposit this Honored One in his bed and come by your room."
"See, Satoru, if you weren't drunk, you would have been invited to movie night."
"Why can't I join you now?" he asks, but even as he opens his mouth, his eyelids start to droop. It seems like even the almighty Six Eyes falls victim to alcohol fatigue.
As the dorms start to separate, you squeeze Suguru's wrist, pat Satoru's head in goodbye and make your way into your room in the girl's dormitory.
You barely finished changing into your pajamas and brushing your hair when there was a soft knock on your door.
"Come in!" you shout and put the brush back to its designated spot on your desk.
"That was fast," you greet him as he closes the door behind him with a soft click.
"He fell asleep on the way to his room. I just threw him on his bed and made sure he doesn't choke on his vomit," Suguru says and sprawls himself on your couch in front of the TV.
"Imagine that being the way he would kick the bucket. Heir to the Limitless and Six Eyes, strongest jujutsu sorcerer, dies from alcohol consumption," you snort and walk around the small table to sit next to him, TV remote in hand.
"I don't get him sometimes. He's so smart in every way, and then he goes out and drinks himself to oblivion," you sigh and lean back into the cushions.
He throws you a sidelong glance that you don't see and plucks the remote from your hands.
"Hey!"
"You said I could choose," he reminds you, and you remember that you did say that.
"Nothing scary," you squint your eyes in warning which only makes him laugh quietly.
"Wouldn't want to cause another accident," he teases you.
Mortification entered your features as you remember how you shot off a bundle of cursed energy during ' Earth Worm 2'. It had hit a framed picture of Suguru and his parents, shattering the glass and destroying the photograph underneath. You didn't stop apologizing for a week, but he kept reassuring you that it wasn't a big deal.
That doesn't mean he won't mention it every time you guys want to do a movie night.
Urgh.
Suguru ruffles your hair when he sees your pouty face and selects an action movie.
You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up in your bed, tucked in with your blanket up to your chin.
The room is silent. Suguru must have left already.
The thought of him carrying you in his arms has you blushing in the darkness.
Stupid, stupid girl, falling for your best friend.