Getou Suguru hated the city.
The crowds, the noise, the endless sea of people who moved through the streets as if they had somewhere important to be, always grated on his nerves. It was different from the peace he found in the temples and secluded places where he felt most at home.
The city was where the curses festered, where they thrived, and where he had to be to fulfill his duty.
Today was no different.
He moved through the alleys, avoiding the bustling main streets, his senses alert for any sign of a curse. His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been too long since he had last eaten. There was no time for food when curses needed exorcizing, and the small bit of money he had barely kept him fed.
A life of exorcism was one of hardship, especially when you rejected the system that offered support to sorcerers.
Just as he turned a corner, he caught sight of a figure standing in front of a small grocery store. It was a man, tall with messy black hair, his back turned to Getou.
Something about him made Getou pause.
There was a presence about him, a quiet strength that radiated from his very being. It wasn't just that the man was powerful; it was that he didn't seem to belong here, in this world.
Getou's eyes narrow as he takes in the scene.
The man is clearly out of place, yet he doesn't seem uncomfortable. It was as if the city, with all its noise and chaos, didn't touch him.
Getou frowns, his instincts on high alert. He had learned long ago to trust his gut when it came to people, and this man set off all kinds of alarms. He watches as the man entered the store, moving with a grace that belied his casual demeanor. Getou hesitates, his stomach growling once more, but something about the man made him follow. He needed to know who this stranger was and why he was here.
Getou slips into the store behind the man, keeping his distance.
The place was small and crowded, with shelves crammed full of goods. He moves silently, his eyes fixed on the stranger as he walks down the aisles, picking up a few items here and there.
It wasn't long before the man reaches the checkout, pulling out a wallet and paying for his purchases with an ease that made Getou's throat tighten.
The man leaves the store, and Getou finds himself trailing after him, keeping to the shadows as he watches him navigate the streets with a purpose that only heightened Getou's curiosity.
He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this man than meets the eye.
Maybe he's like him, different from the rest.
They continue down the street until the man stops suddenly, turning into a small, narrow alleyway.
Getou's heart skipped a beat as he realized the man had led him into a trap. His mind twitches toward the curses inside his soul, hidden in his skin, ready to defend himself if necessary, but the man doesn't attack.
Instead, he turns slowly to face Getou, his green eyes locking onto Getou's with an intensity that makes his breath catch in his throat.
"You've been following me," the man states, his voice calm but firm. There was no accusation in his tone, just a simple statement of fact.
Getou's mind races, searching for an explanation that wouldn't reveal his true intentions. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was stare at the man in front of him, the man who seemed to see right through him.
The man's expression softens slightly, as if he could sense Getou's inner turmoil, "You're hungry," he said quietly, more of a realization than a question.
Getou blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in the man's demeanor. The harshness that he had expected, the confrontation, never came.
He watches transfixed as the man reaches into one of the bags he carried and rearranges the multitude of items before he is satisfied and hoists all but one bag over his shoulder, holding the one dangling out to Getou.
"Here," the man offered. "It's not much, but it'll help."
Getou stared at the bag of fruits and vegetables, his pride warring with his hunger. He doesn't want to accept charity, but his stomach clenched painfully, reminding him of the last meal he'd missed.
After a moment's hesitation, Getou reached out and took the bag, his fingers brushing against the man's as he did so.
The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of energy through him, like a spark of something powerful and ancient.
Unknowingly having a tracking charm placed on him.
"Thank you," Getou mumbles, lowering his gaze to the ground. The man watches him for a moment longer before speaking again, his tone gentle and so achingly comforting that Getou wants to cry. "What's your name?"
Getou hesitates, unsure if he should reveal his identity to this stranger, but something about the man's presence, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, made Getou feel like he could trust him.
"Getou," he finally answers, his voice barely above a whisper. The man nods his face lightening into happiness, as if he said he won the lottery.
"I'm Harry!" He chirps, tilting his head, reminding Getou of those owl curses who watch him sometimes when he passes the old abandoned graveyard heading home.
'Harry.' It was a simple name, but it felt out of place in Getou's world, just like the man himself.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," Harry said, his voice laced with concern. "It's dangerous."
Getou almost laughs at the irony of the statement. He had faced danger his whole life, and has fought curses that would have driven most people to madness, but It's the look in his gaze, the way Harry said it, with such sincerity, made him pause.
"I can take care of myself," Getou replies, his tone sharp.
He doesn't need anyone's protection, least of all from a stranger who didn't even belong in this world. Harry didn't flinch at the harshness in Getou's voice.
Instead, he simply nodded, as if he understood. "I know you can," he said quietly. "But that doesn't mean you have to."
Getou frowns, not sure how to respond. Harry's words are strange, almost cryptic, but they carry a truth that Getou couldn't deny.
"Why are you helping me?" Getou asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Harry smiled, a sad, knowing smile that tugged at something deep within Getou, "Because I've been where you are," he said simply. "And because no one should have to face this world alone."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.
Getou didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond to the kindness of a stranger who seemed to see right through him. Before he could find the words, Harry took a step back, giving Getou some space.
"If you ever need anything, here is my address," he said, ripping a piece of the grocery bag and producing a pen from nowhere.
Getou nodded, still too stunned to speak.
He watched as Harry turns and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing into the shadows of the alley. The weight of their encounter settled on Getou's shoulders, a mix of confusion and something else, something that felt a lot like hope.
The night is colder than usual. Getou huddles deeper into the thin jacket he wears, trying to ward off the chill that seeps into his bones. The alleyway where he's taken refuge is dimly lit by a flickering streetlight, casting long, eerie shadows across the crumbling walls.
He's been on the move for hours, evading his father's wrath, and has finally found this small corner of the city to rest, at least for a little while.
Sleep doesn't come easily.
His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one dragging him deeper into the dark abyss of despair. He isn't sure how long he's been lying there, half-asleep when a sudden instinct makes him snap awake. He holds his breath, listening as soft footsteps approach the alley, deliberate and cautious.
Getou's heart races as he presses himself against the wall, hoping to remain unnoticed, then he sees the figure standing at the entrance to the alley, silhouetted against the faint light. Harry.
His breath catches. What is he doing here? How did he find him?
Harry's gaze sweeps over the alley, and Getou knows he's been seen.
"Getou?" Harry's voice is soft, almost hesitant, as he steps closer. The concern in his tone makes Getou's chest tighten. "What are you doing out here?"
Getou doesn't respond. He can't, shame and fear hold him captive, freezing him in place as Harry kneels beside him.
The warmth of Harry's presence is a stark contrast to the cold night air, and it makes Getou's situation feel all the more desperate. Harry's hand reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing the hair from Getou's face.
"It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to explain."
"Let's just get you somewhere safe." Getou wants to protest, to tell Harry he doesn't need his pity, but the words won't come.
Instead, he finds himself nodding, too exhausted to argue. He allows Harry to help him to his feet, leaning on him for support as they make their way out of the alley.
As they walk, Getou's mind races with questions. Why is Harry helping him? What does he want in return?
Harry wouldn't want anything from him.
Maybe he's just… kind. He doesn't know how long they walk before they reach a door, Harry pushes it open, guiding Getou inside.
The warmth of the apartment is a stark contrast to the cold outside, and Getou can't help but shiver as the heat envelops him.
"Let's get you settled," Harry says, his tone gentle but firm. He leads Getou to the small living area, where a giant man is sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.
How did he get so huge?
"Toji," Harry calls softly and with warmth that makes Getou flush.
He watches the man, beast in human form more accurately, letting out a loud yawn as they enter further, his other hand lifting slightly in a lazy wave, "Found him, did you?" he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
Harry nods an adoring smile on his face, he helps Getou sit down on the couch opposite Toji. The man simply looks at him and Getou withholds the urge to shiver, he's never seen someone so casually terrifying like the man before him.
"He was in the alley," Harry explains, a hint of worry in his voice.
Toji rubs the sleep out of his eyes, the man's arms bigger than his whole body, his dark gaze flicking over Getou, taking in the bruises and the exhaustion written on his face. Getou wants to hide in shame.
He doesn't say anything for a moment, just studies Getou with a look that's hard to decipher. Finally, Toji sighs and sits up, stretching his arms over his head.
"Well, I guess you're staying here tonight," he says, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He then glances at Harry, who is still hovering nearby, then back at Getou. "Don't steal anything or I'll kill you."
Toji," Harry scolds as the giant merely waved his hand as he walks off saying, "I'm tired as shit, night Harry" ignoring Harry when he calls.
Harry turns with an exasperated sigh, while Getou shivers when the big man turns to meet his gaze while Harry isn't looking, the threat is there, betray Harry's trust and he'll pay
"Don't mind him, he's just a grump, but he's really a softie," Harry says, Getou has to blink, too stunned to respond.
That man can not be labeled as soft, he looks like he could kill someone with that glare alone.
Focusing onHarry he looks up, "why?" Is he doing all this. The casual acceptance of his presence. It's surreal, and for a moment, he wonders if he's dreaming.
Harry smiles, though there's a touch of sadness in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need," he says, his voice soft but steady. "We'll figure things out in the morning." Getou nods numbly, still trying to process what's happening.
He's not used to this, this kindness, this offer of safety without any strings attached. It feels foreign, but at the same time, it's exactly what he needs.
The first rays of sunlight peek through the gaps in the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Getou awakens to the quiet hum of the city outside and the comforting warmth of the blanket that has been draped over him.
His body feels heavy with exhaustion, but there's a newfound sense of ease that he hasn't felt in a long time. As he stirs, he becomes aware of the sounds of cooking coming from the small kitchen area.
The faint aroma of something savory fills the apartment, and Getou's stomach growls in response.
He blinks awake and sits up, looking around to get his bearings, was it all real?
In the kitchen, he sees Harry moving around with practiced ease, stirring something in a pan while occasionally glancing at a small notebook propped up on the counter. Toji sits at the kitchen table, watching Harry with a soft, almost contemplative expression.
It's an odd sight, Getou thinks. Toji, with his rugged, imposing presence, seems almost out of place in the serene morning scene. He looks like a predator observing a delicate creature, his usual harsh scowl replaced with a gentleness to it.
A softness in his eyes that belies his usual demeanor.
It's unsettling to see such a feral man show such gentleness, especially when paired with someone as small and vulnerable as Harry. Harry, in contrast, is small and unassuming, his movements fluid and careful as he prepares breakfast.
It's as if the two are from different worlds, yet here they are, coexisting in a harmony that seems almost fragile..
Getou rubs his eyes and pushes himself up from the couch, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. He moves toward the kitchen, his footsteps tentative.
Harry looks up as he approaches, offering a warm smile that seems to light up the entire room.
"Good morning," Harry says cheerfully, though there's a touch of caution in his voice. "How are you feeling?"
Getou nods, still trying to fully wake up. "I'm okay. Thank you for-" he starts, but his voice falters.
He's not used to such kindness, and it's hard to find the right words. Harry waves it off with a casual gesture. "It's no trouble at all."
"I thought you might be hungry." He points to the small table where plates of food have been set out. "Feel free to help yourself."
Getou moves to the table, feeling Toji's eyes on him.
The intensity of the gaze makes him self-conscious, but there's no hostility in it, just a quiet watchfulness.
Toji's presence is a constant reminder of the power that lies behind the gentleness, a contrast that leaves Getou feeling both safe and uneasy. The simple meal is comforting, and Getou can't help but feel a pang of gratitude as he takes his first bite.
The food is basic but hearty, and it makes his stomach feel settled for the first time in what feels like forever.
Toji finally speaks, his voice low and rumbly. "You're lucky," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Harry doesn't cook for just anyone." Getou glances at Harry, who is busying himself with the dishes.
There's a softness in Harry's expression, a quiet joy that makes Getou feel like he's witnessing something private and precious.
"Why does he?" Getou asks, curiosity getting the better of him. "Cook for you, I mean." Toji chuckles softly, a rare sound that seems to brighten the room with the way Harry looks back with love at the sound.
"Harry's got a knack for taking care of people," he says. "It's his thing, and I'm just lucky enough to be one of those people."
Harry's cheeks flush with color, and he ducks his head to avoid their gazes.
"It's nothing special," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just… like making sure my people are okay."
'My people,' Getou thinks, wanting to squirm in his seat, that makes it sound like he sees him as someone specifical.
He's never met someone like Harry before, someone who genuinely cares without expecting anything in return.
It's both comforting and terrifying.
As they eat, the conversation flows easily, a stark contrast to the tension that Getou usually carries with him. Toji and Harry chat about mundane things, the weather, the state of the city, and Getou finds himself slowly relaxing into the rhythm of the morning.
For the first time in a long time, he feels a sense of normalcy, a sense of belonging.
After breakfast, Harry clears the table, humming softly to himself as he washes the dishes.
Toji leans back in his chair, watching Harry with an expression that's hard to read, a mix of fondness and something deeper, something almost protective.
Getou stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. But before he can say anything, Toji speaks up.
"You should rest some more," Toji says, his tone gentle but firm. "You've been through a lot, and it's going to take time to heal." Getou nods, unsure how to behave around him; he's so intimidating.
He's exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and the thought of resting a little longer is appealing. But there's also a part of him that's afraid to let his guard down, afraid that this moment of peace is just an illusion. Harry must sense his hesitation because he steps forward, placing a comforting hand on Getou's arm.
"It's okay," Harry says softly, his eyes full of understanding. "You're safe here. We'll take care of you." The sincerity in Harry's voice is disarming, and Getou finds himself nodding, unable to resist the warmth and kindness that radiate from him.
Maybe it's okay to trust, just a little, to believe that not everyone in the world is out to hurt him.
As Getou settles back onto the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket, he feels a sense of calm wash over him.
The morning sun streams through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and for the first time in a long time, Getou allows himself to close his eyes and rest, letting Toji and Harry's voices fade into the background, a comforting murmur that sings him into a peaceful sleep.
A/n:
So… Getou is Here!
I use Getou cause my keyboard will edit it to Gojo
How do you like the introduction, I've always gotten the abused past from Getou, and think it's something that would tug at harry's heart.
How do you like it? Satoru can't just kill his future father in law, will Toji still even take the missions then?
Big brother Getou is gonna be in full effect soon.
Harry is totally gonna have his hunky man scare Getou's father into signing his parental rights away.
Black haired, Green eyed gremlins have to stick to together after all.
