Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kento glared at the strawberries and blueberries piled on one corner of the cake, trying to shut out the ticking of the clock knocking viciously at his eardrums. The small pile of strawberries was surrounded by blueberries, forming a crescent that was flushed against the very edge of the white chocolate ganache that covered the cake. His eyes scanned over the fruit, desperate to find any imperfections as he processed the design of the cake itself. 

It was simpler than Kento's other desserts: A three tier matcha cake with layers of white chocolate ganache and strawberries, covered in the same white chocolate ganache and topped with a crescent of strawberries and blueberries Kento needed to get rid of. His hands twitched as they burned with the desire to do more. He felt his left eye twitch as he ran through what else he could spare in his kitchen, but every item he cataloged in his mind would make it too garish or childish for his tastes.

His whole body twitched as his phone vibrated in the quiet of the store. The smallest bit of shame began to sour his stomach at his reaction, and he willed it out of his body with a huff out of his nose and a shrug of his shoulders as he walked to the front counter of his bakery. Kento picked up his phone and saw Yu’s face as his phone continued to vibrate. It was a picture of him and Yu after their high school graduation. Their caps had been long forgotten on cold metal folding chairs, their sweaty hair and shiny faces on full display. Yu hadn’t cared about that though, smashing his cheek against the side of Kento’s damp head as he wrapped a tight arm around his neck, grin large and so blinding as he snapped a picture of them. Kento spotted his own smile in the photo, a barely there quirk of his lips, a corner covered by his long side bang that plastered to his face.

Kento was startled as he finally felt the small smile stretched onto his face. He cleared his throat as roughly as he could, bit back his smile, and swiped the answer button.

“Hello.”

“Kento, hey, you still at the bakery?” Yu chirped back. Kento could hear the muted swishing of windshield wipers in the background mingled with the steady patter of rain.

“Yes, I said I’d call you when I’m done with your cake. Did something happen?” Kento murmured.

“Dude, it’s almost 10 o’clock.”

Kento felt his heart suddenly kick into gear. His eyes whipped towards the clock above the front entrance to the bakery. 9:53.

“Goddamn it,” he sighed, his eyes squeezing shut and the fingers of his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. Yu’s cheerful laughter floated from his phone, but it did little to ease the growing pain at the very front of Kento’s head.

“Well, the good news is that I’ll be there to pick you up in five minutes,” Yu said. A turn signal clicking chimed in on Yu’s end. “Do you want to swing by your place for a change of clothes or are you good with borrowing PJs from me tonight?”

Kento sighed. Rain beat steadily against the roof of the small bakery, agitating his headache and encouraging it to spread. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his eyelids and slumped his shoulders ever so slightly.

“I’ll take the pajamas.”

~~~~

Water slowly dripped from their jackets on the coat hanger. A small puddle formed underneath Yu’s fuzzy brown jacket and Kento’s worn cream coat, expanding ever so slightly on the hardwood floor as each minute passed. Kento’s teeth began to agitate his bottom lip. His brain begged him to wipe it up with a towel, its nagging sparks growing in intensity.

“So, what mess kept you at the store this time?”

Kento’s eyes finally ripped themselves away from the growing puddle to watch Yu set two plates of cake on the low coffee table. He pushed one of the cakes across to Kento, finally settling down on the floor, crossing his legs. Kento had no idea how he could still sit like that on the floor and not feel his hips go numb.

“My guess is it’s Inumaki-kun’s fault,” Yu continued, shoving a slice of the light green matcha cake into his mouth. “Yoshino-kun would’ve insisted on staying behind to help you if it was his fault.”

Kento sighed, feeling exhaustion weighing every single part of his body down into the floor. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the slice of cake, his stomach curdling no matter how much he fought back against it.

“There wasn’t any mess,” he murmured, “I was… balancing the books.”

Yu froze, another bite of cake hovering in front of his mouth before he slowly placed his fork back on the plate. Kento’s stomach sank deep into the floor as he watched Yu’s brow pull together and his mouth crease deep into a frown.

He wished he could have avoided this conversation. He tried so hard to figure out his finances as fast as he could, tried to make everything work so that he could bake Yu’s cake and celebrate his birthday as normal, tried so hard so that he didn’t taste the bile crawling up his throat when he was forced to confront his failure.

“Kento-”

“Yu, please, I really don’t-”

“Kento you should have told me, I could have-”

“Could have done what, Yu?” Kento snapped. He tried to ignore his mind screaming at him to stop, the part of his brain that couldn’t handle staying annoyed at Yu. “Begged your parents to give me a loan when they still think I’m friends with you because of your money?”

“When have I ever cared about that?” Yu snapped back, volume increasing with the incredulity in his voice. “They’re my problem to deal with, not yours!”

“So you’ll be fine when they inevitably force you to go on blind dates again to repay them?”

Silence suffocated Kento, filling every corner of the room until it was all he could feel. He forced his eyes to glare at his slice of cake, his mind screaming at him to apologize to Yu. He didn’t want to apologize, not yet, and he knew he would cave if he so much as glanced at Yu.

Kento felt a familiar self-hatred claw at his heart as he thought about how much control of his heart he gave to Yu over the years.

“It’s too late for that anyway.”

Yu’s whisper just barely floated into his ears, but it was enough to finally break Kento’s resolve. He snapped his eyes up towards Yu, and he felt his heart radiate pain to every single nerve of his body. Yu’s eyes were downcast, blank and with tears pricking its very corners. Yu’s fists were clenched loosely on top of the table, and he was slouched over the side of it. Every part of his body looked defeated, and Kento’s stomach and mouth soured as he already knew why.

“Yu…” Kento said, mind screeching static as he tried to think of anything he could say.

“I’m twenty-seven now, Kento,” Yu said, his voice wavering with every word, “and I’m so tired of dating and finding nothing but disappointment. And…” Yu lifted his gaze, his mouth pulled apart in a smile devoid of any joy. “And what if I’m just… not made for finding love, you know? Maybe my parents are right and I should just find someone to settle down with.”

Kento pinched his eyes shut. He could feel his heart and mind shredding apart everything they could reach. His ears rang violently, high pitched and grating against his eardrums. His hands felt numb where they lay limp on the table, his blood burning every inch of his veins. Twelve years of friendship and his body still couldn’t comprehend that Yu would never love him back. 

Throughout their entire friendship, Yu would wax poetic about finding his soulmate and breaking the cycle of loveless arranged marriages in his family. Back when they first met, Kento would have to bite back a scoff every time Yu would rant about his parents trying to set up an arranged marriage for him. They were fifteen, and Yu was born with a silver spoon from a fortune so old that no one in his family has had a real job for decades. Yu was friendly and one of the few people able to connect with Kento despite his bluntness and stoicism, but Kento thought Yu would cave to his parents’ demands the moment that money was taken away from him. In the end, the rich only cared about their riches.

That belief dissipated into the air the night Kento opened his front door halfway through their first year and saw Yu clutching a duffel bag and wearing a backpack, both filled to bursting. He remembered how every part of Yu’s face and body trembled as he begged Kento’s parents to let him stay with them for a while, how he tried so hard to hide his fear that they would say no. He remembered seeing that tremble transform into one born of rage as Yu explained his parents’ ultimatum to go on the blind dates they arranged or find somewhere else to live.

That was the day Kento began to feel a genuine admiration for Yu, a warmth of respect that grew and transformed the longer Yu stayed with them. In the two months that Yu lived with Kento, he had never complained. The cramped and near ancient apartment never seemed to bother Yu, and he did anything and everything he could think of doing around the apartment to show his gratitude to Kento’s parents. It didn’t take his parents long to think of Yu as another son.

Even after Yu’s parents allowed him to come back, Yu continued to go out of his way to spend time with Kento. He would come over to his apartment any time he could, and even managed to convince his parents to let him sleep over at Kento’s every now and then. They would talk late into the night, about anything they could think of, both desperate to keep the conversation going. Kento talked more during those nights than every other day of his life combined.

It was during one of those sleepovers, as he watched a sleeping Yu glow warm even in the moonlight, that he first thought about what it would be like to kiss him.

Kento thought about confessing to Yu a multitude of times over the years. The thought always simmered at the very back of his mind whenever he spent time with Yu, even now. However, when Yu started going on dates in high school, lamenting to Kento over some of the breakups about how he really loved whoever he dated at the time, Kento shoved that thought to the very back of his mind as violently as he could to try to stop the unbearable searing pain it would bring to his heart.

The thought of Yu settling down with someone else made his throat feel like it would claw itself apart, but Kento wanted Yu to be happy above all else.

“You’re not going on that blind date.”

Kento saw Yu’s eyes widen with shock, and he felt his own eyes widen in matching surprise at his own words.

“Kento,” Yu whispered, “please don’t tell me you’re gonna go on the blind date for me.”

He felt his jaw tense and his teeth grind ever so slightly against each other. Kento had only ever gone on one blind date for Yu when they were twenty-two. Yu’s parents had become relentless when Yu enrolled in university, ambushing him with blind dates at family parties or charity galas. It became draining, and Yu suggested they ambush a blind date by having Kento go in his stead to scare him, and Yu’s parents, off. They both hoped Kento’s natural intensity and bluntness would work, which it did. It worked so well that the date threatened to sue Yu and his parents for emotional damages.

While Yu’s parents backed off for years due to their mortification, Kento and Yu both agreed to minimize their risk of being subjected to lawsuits big enough to ruin their lives and never try it should Yu be forced on blind dates again.

That was until Yu’s parents tried to destroy his confidence.

“I’ll only do it for this date,” Kento said, flooding his brain with as much fake confidence as possible. “Besides, I doubt that a bad date is strong enough grounds for a lawsuit.”

“Oh really?” Yu said. His brow unfurrowed as he wiped his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. “You know that for a fact, Nanami Kento?”

“I’m certain,” Kento said, feeling the slightest bit stronger from making Yu smile.

Yu stared at him, his eyes jumping around his face, trying to find something. Kento thanked god that his face loved resting in a poker face.

Soon Yu’s smile blossomed into a wide grin, his brown eyes melting into liquid warmth. Kento’s heart began to sprint, his nerves singing as Yu grabbed one of his hands on the table and squeezed. His soft hand lit every bit of skin in Kento’s calloused hand aflame.

“Thank you,” Yu said. His thumb brushed against the back of his hand, burning everything in its wake.

Kento forced a bite of cake into his barren mouth.

Chapter Text

Words squirmed and swam around Satoru's vision, scratching at his eyes until he was forced to rub them away. Sighing, he roughly smacked his pen down onto his dark brown desk and leaned back in his large black office chair. His closed eyes pulsate and sting in his skull, igniting his nerves. He forced himself to breathe, willing every ounce of pain into every exhale until his eyelids dared to open to the dimly lit lights above. The soft yellow glow reignited his nerves, and Satoru hissed as his eyes slammed shut once more. He pressed harshly against his eyelids, bright spots of light taunting him as he tried to calm his eyes down.

Knocks echoed in his office, making Satoru clench his jaw.

“Gojo-san,” he heard Yuuta’s muffled voice say through his office door, “may I come in?”

Satoru’s jaw unclenched, his shoulders relaxing just the slightest at Yuuta’s voice. “Yep,” he croaked through gritted teeth.

He heard the door click open and the clicking of Yuuta’s shoes against the dark hardwood floor, coming closer until it stopped in front of his desk. The silence grinded against Satoru’s skull, and he knew that Yuuta was trying to decide whether he should help him or not. 

He could feel his migraine pulse at the thought of receiving even more pity. He’s had enough in the past month to last the rest of his life.

“What is it and do I have to open my eyes to handle it?” he forced out of his throat before Yuuta could offer his help.

“Uh, well…” Yuuta stammered, his voice trailing off into the air. Satoru didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Yuuta was shuffling side to side on his feet as he tried to find a way to say what he needed without pissing Satoru off.

It was a new development that made Satoru’s stomach acid corrode until it was all he could feel. He missed when Yuuta bantered with him, joked with him, poked fun at him, treated him like a person instead of a ghost made of the thinnest glass.

It made the hole Suguru left pulsate. Satoru grinded his teeth, forcing his heart to calm down before it could add to his agony.

“You, uh… have your…” Yuuta finally continued. He heard Yuuta sigh. “Your blind date is tonight, and I have the… file your parents sent about him.”

Satoru felt his tongue rot in his mouth, his teeth turning to acrid dust in solidarity. He tried to succumb to the weight of the air around him, hoping the tense atmosphere would hold his body still before he began to tremble. The stars bursting behind his eyelids finally subsided, but his migraine only pounded against his skull harder as all the warmth left his body.

Satoru wasn’t an idiot. He knew that his parents would start sending him on blind dates sooner or later. The fact that they gave him a month of space was a near miracle, though Satoru knew they were just as blindsided by the breakup as he was. It was much more likely that they gave themselves the space to mourn Satoru’s potential marriage rather than letting him grieve his goddamn fourteen-year relationship.

The thought of Suguru not being in his life was still inconceivable to Satoru. He had given Suguru every first he had to give, gave him access to parts of himself he didn’t even know existed, sacrificed every bit of love he would ever have to give to him, all without regret. Suguru was the only one that cared enough to really understand him, so no one else would ever matter to Satoru. He had assumed Suguru felt the same.

Twenty years of their lives were spent together, and Satoru somehow never actually understood Suguru. That was the thought that twisted his heart the most.

“I would offer to come back later,” Yuuta said, “but the date is in two and a half hours, and you still need to go home and change.”

Satoru sighed and groped his hand around the side of his desk until he felt the familiar cold metal of his desk drawer handle. He pulled it open and felt around inside until he felt the thin metal of his sunglasses' arms. He pulled it out of the drawer and roughly unfolded the arms. Eyes covered by his circular black frames; his eyelids dared to part. The nerves in his eyes still vibrated with pain, blurring his vision, but they eventually calmed down in the blissful dark of the shades and the dimmed room around him. 

Satoru spun in his chair towards Yuuta, still standing in front of his desk, and forced a smile to pull his lips apart. He knew Yuuta knew him well enough to tell that the smile was forced, but Yuuta never pressed him.

“So, which divorced old man am I being forced to meet?” he said, arms crossed and rested on his desk. “Is it Yaga-san? My parents would probably start with him, he’s the most polite of their friends.”

“Actually, it’s someone close to your age,” Yuuta said, his professional demeanor starting to return now that he could refocus on the task. He handed the file over to Satoru, and he was surprised to find it was thin and light. He opened the manila folder to the first piece of paper and found himself looking at a man with floppy brown hair and dark brown eyes. His lips were pulled up in a small smile, his eyes squinted in happy slits. A sliver of blond hair and a light cheek could be seen pressed against the man’s tanned and freckled cheek.

The man looked nice. A little plain, but he could tell from the starting signs of crow’s feet on his eyes that he smiled a lot. His parents could have chosen a lot worse.

“His name is Haibara Yu, just turned twenty-seven a few days ago. The Haibara family is old money, and most of them are socialites and philanthropists, including his parents Taskeshi and Himiko. He’s their only child. He went on blind dates years ago but stopped going on blind dates when he…”

Satoru glanced up at Yuuta when the silence stretched on too long. Yuuta glued his gaze to the ceiling, lips pulled into his mouth to be chewed by his teeth. He ran a steady hand on top of his gelled hair, careful to keep a professional appearance even when nervous.

“Spit it out Yuuta!” Satoru shouted, attempting to soothe his small outburst with a forced laugh when he saw how he startled Yuuta. “I don’t care how you talk to me, you know that.”

Silence stretched between them. Satoru felt his blood begin to freeze with regret until he saw him let out a small shy smile, the one he usually reserved for when he didn’t want to laugh at something Satoru said in public.

“Okay, well, there aren’t a lot of details, everyone has kept it all pretty hush,” Yuuta continued, his shoulders finally relaxed since he walked into his office, “but Haibara-san apparently scared his date so badly he tried to sue him and his parents.”

Satoru felt his jaw drop open as laughter was startled out of him. “No way! Fuck, I need to ask him what he did, I need ideas when my parents try to set me up with some asshole.”

Yuuta chuckled, and Satoru felt his blood warm. It had been too long since Yuuta laughed with him. He didn’t realize how much he missed moments like this, when he and Yuuta could forget about their responsibilities and family and just be cousins gossiping and joking together.

For the first time in a month, his mind didn’t wander towards Suguru.

~~~~

The restaurant his parents chose was a new Italian place in Aoyama. Its walls were made almost entirely of glass, their seams so thin that it looked like it was all one window. The warm glow of the lights blanketed against the bright fluorescent lights of the city outside, painting the patrons of the restaurant onto the windows. While the place was packed, the sounds of the people around him seemed to almost bleed out into the city outside. Whispered confessions, boisterous laughter, energetic stories, all of them seemed to fall just short of Satoru’s ears, creating an atmosphere instead of drowning him in noise.

Satoru made a mental note to have business lunches here. Any restaurant that didn’t drill migraines into his head was few and far between.

He took a sip of his water as he turned on his phone’s screen. 7:46 pm. His date was sixteen minutes late now, which flicked his brain with sparks of irritation. From what Yuuta told him, Satoru knew that Haibara was just as unenthusiastic about this date as he was, but he had looked forward to trying to bond with him over their reluctance. It would have helped a lot to talk to someone that understood the pain of these blind dates without a polite filter.

“Gojo Satoru, correct?”

Satoru snapped his head up, mouth open to greet Haibara only to hang open in silence. A handsome man he had never seen before stood in front of him. He was tall, with short blond hair styled stiff with gel. His light brown eyes were hard and determined, but the rest of his face was a picture-perfect image of stoicism. He wore a tan suit that, while well maintained, still had signs of age. The elbows of the jacket and the knees of the pants were thinner than the rest of the suit, with small threads sticking out inside his jacket sleeves. A bright blue dress shirt popped out underneath his jacket, bereft of a tie or any other accessory that would make his chest less bare. His left arm was curled around a binder against his side, stark pieces of paper peeking out at Satoru.

Satoru couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his face even if he wanted to. At least Haibara made his night interesting.

“Yep, in the flesh,” he said, leaning onto the table to get closer to the man, “and you’re not Haibara Yu. Why is that?”

Without breaking eye contact, the man dropped the binder onto the table. The silverware clattered, his water sloshed dangerously, and conversation at the nearby surrounding tables hushed as the patrons turned to look. He wrapped his long fingers around the metal handle of the chair and yanked it out. Satoru winced at the screech that stabbed at his skull, his hands twitching in instinct to reach for the ibuprofen in his jacket pocket.

“You will call me Kento,” the man said as he dropped into the chair. He flipped open the binder and pulled a stack of papers from the side pocket that he then plopped in front of Satoru. Satoru looked down and read Terms of Marriage Between Haibara Yu and Gojo Satoru at the top of the first page. “I am here to represent Haibara-san and to write down observations about you that I believe will be relevant to Haibara-san’s final decision of a spouse.”

Satoru felt every word he could possibly say disintegrate. The army of words assaulted his vision, glimpses of legal jargon mixed with dissertations of how many children were expected, what their names would be, who would cook on what nights, how they would decide whose last name to take, and more that his mind was too flooded with information to process.

“That is your copy of the contract I have drafted for Haibara-san,” Kento said, his voice in an almost aggressive monotone. One of his hands disappeared from the table to pull two pens from his jacket pocket. He placed one of them in front of Satoru and clicked his own pen open as he turned his attention to his own copy in front of him. “We will discuss most of the terms tonight, focusing on the items that are of most concern to Haibara-san. You may bring up whatever topic you wish so long as it is relevant to the joining of you and Haibara-san. I will make notes about your opinions and concerns and discuss them with Haibara-san before I finalize a contract for your signatures. Any questions so far, Gojo-san?”

Laughter began to bubble in Satoru’s chest, and he rushed to gnaw on his bottom lip to try to keep it at bay. Haibara wanted to fuck with him, Satoru would fuck with him back. It was only fair.

Chapter Text

Kento never expected Gojo Satoru to look the way he did. He had expected a well-dressed and clean-cut man, clad in a monotone suit with at least half of his hair grayed away. A man his age with bleached hair, a garishly bright blue sports coat, satin purple dress shirt, and dark black sunglasses hiding his eyes greeted him instead.

An incredibly aggravating grin spread across Gojo's face after he tamped down on his initial shock of meeting him. He felt the nerves in his arms crawl along his flesh as Gojo just grinned at him. Kento couldn't help but curse Yu for not doing any research on Gojo; all he wanted to do was wipe that grin off his face and he had no idea how to do it.

His chest tightened, squeezing all the breath out of his lungs. Sweat began to break through the skin on his forehead and pooled in the palms of his hands. He was out of his depth, he knew he was, and he knew Gojo knew it too. His gaze pierced straight through him even through the sunglasses. Kento knew how his body showed anger and was more than familiar with its acrid taste on his tongue.

He needed to do this for Yu, even if Yu said he didn't need to. Kento could never face himself if he let Yu's passion wither under the weight of a loveless marriage. Kento stared down at the contract, buried his teeth into his inflamed tongue, tried to mask a deep breath as an exhausted sigh, and clenched his fist around his pen four times before he found resolve to face that skin crawling opaque gaze.

"The first section of the contract Haibara-san wishes to discuss-"

"No need."

Kento's jaw clenched in a desperate bid to retain any remaining stoicism. He forced himself to make eye contact with Gojo through his sunglasses.

"Pardon, Gojo-san?" Kento asked, proud of how even his voice stayed.

“There’s no need to discuss anything in the contract,” Gojo explained. His grin consumed more of his face, his hand idly twirling the straw in his glass of water. “I chose Haibara-kun because he’s perfect. Anything he wants I’ll give him.”

While still swirling his glass of water, Gojo whipped his other hand upwards in a dramatic flair, brandishing the pen Kento had given him earlier with a click that cut through the noise in the restaurant to stab into Kento’s chest. His stomach froze into a hard lump as he watched Gojo sit up straight and sign every single page of the contract. White noise buzzed in every corner of his mind as Gojo then tossed the signed contract in front of Kento. Every sound in the restaurant muffled together until they faded underneath the waves of static in his mind. The black ink of his signature poked every nerve in his body until the only thing he could feel was a numbing cold.

He failed. Gojo caught onto him right away, and now Haibara was doomed.

Kento clenched his jaw. He jammed his thumbnail against each finger of his right hand four times as he tried to breathe again. Index, one, two, three, four, try to breathe. Middle, one, two, three, four, try to breathe. His chest expanded in grateful relief. Good. Ring, one, two, three, four, try to think. Pinky, one, two, three, four, try to think.

Gojo knew it was a sham. If Gojo knew what Kento was up to, then he probably clocked Kento as poor; even as a favor for a friend, a real lawyer would have drafted an actual contract for something like this, and Gojo signing it meant he picked up that Kento was pretending.

He was at a distinct disadvantage: He knew nothing about Gojo other than the fact he was rich, while Gojo knew he had all the power.

Kento’s eyes widened, and his thumbnail paused on his ring finger. Gojo was a rich man dealing with someone he knew was poor. Kento knew that meant Gojo assumed he was an idiot. 

His only move was playing dumb. Where he could possibly take playing dumb to gain a leg on Gojo he had no idea, but it was his only option.

He forced his right hand flat on the surface of the dark wood table, ignoring the way his clammy palm nearly suctioned onto the wood. He groped the air until he found his pen with his left hand, hoping that Gojo didn’t notice the stumble, and clicked the pen open.

“Arrogant tendencies, acting on behalf of Haibara-san without having ever spoken to him,” Kento said, copying his words down onto the contract at the same time. He coerced his head up and felt a small spark of victory light up in his head when Gojo’s grin shrunk just a little.

“Excuse me, what?” Gojo said, confusion laced into his face.

Kento channeled every particle of fake confidence he had into his throat and face to remain stoic and monotone. “I believe I clarified when we began that I would be taking extensive notes on your behavior and demeanor for Haibara-san’s reference,” he said. “I apologize if you find my notes blunt, I do not see the point in dressing up my observations to spare feelings.”

“No, I get it,” Gojo began, grin almost completely dissolved as he straightened in his chair once more, “but do you really have to say your notes out loud? Seems like kind of a dick move.”

“Would you prefer I keep you in the dark about what I will report to Haibara-san?” Kento asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth. He could feel his body sweat more from the familiar anxious panic of improvisation. His suit would have sweat stains by the end of the night, and he prayed to get Gojo off Haibara before he could see any of them.

“No,” Gojo drawled condescendingly, his face pinched with frustration, “I would prefer you cut the act. I know you’re just some…” Gojo gestured up and down Kento’s body, “struggling actor Haibara paid to scare me off or some shit. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Kento bit back a smirk. Gojo was frustrated, and Kento knew he could widen the cracks in his composure by continuing to feign ignorance. He thanked the universe for making this easier than he had feared. Kento straightened from his slouch over the contract and crossed his arms over his chest, pen still in hand.

“I do not appreciate your assumptions to not only my character, but to Haibara-san’s as well,” he said, making sure to click the pen as hard as possible to break its sound through the noise and straight for Gojo. “I also do not appreciate you trying to deceive me. You stated earlier that you chose Haibara-san because he is ‘perfect’, yet now you accuse him of trying to scare you away from him.”

“Fucking hell man, do you know who I am?” Gojo nearly snarled, leaned over the table until Kento could finally see into his eyes. They were a crystal clear and vibrant light blue, nearly alien in color. His stomach soured and his nerves shrieked as discomfort flooded his body. He had never wished to stare at black sunglasses instead of someone’s eyes more in his life, but he pinched and pulled at the inside of his cheek to cement his stoicism. “This was cute at first but whatever Haibara is paying you isn’t enough to handle what my family can do, dumbass!”

Another lawsuit threat just on the tip of Gojo’s tongue. Kento didn’t want the threat to reach Yu’s parents again, but it was preferable to Yu being forced into marriage by them. Kento would take the fall regardless.

“Threatening your potential fiance’s lawyer, attacks on your prospective spouse’s character before you ever spoke to him, and an obviously short temper,” Kento droned. He finally stopped clicking the pen and wrote down his list on the contract. “I will report this to Haibara-san as soon as possible, though your prospects are looking slim, Gojo-san.”

“Fuck, do you ever stop?!” Gojo nearly shouted. 

Kento finally noticed the shroud of silence settled around them. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the patrons of the restaurant staring at them. Heat rushed to his cheeks before he could try to stop it. Shame and guilt curdled in his veins, and Kento knew he needed to end this before he created more of a scene.

Index, one, two, three, four.

“It seems I should take my leave before we disturb these kind patrons further than we already have,” Kento said, standing up with both contracts. He prayed that there weren’t any sweat stains as he lifted his arm to tuck the contracts under his arm.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

“Oh no, no no no no,” Gojo said as he jumped out of his chair. He strode around the table until he was next to Kento and shoved his face into Kento’s personal space. His haunting blue eyes blocked out everything around them, and Kento could feel all the air in his lungs boil. “You don’t get to be an asshole to me all night and expect to just walk away! Call Haibara right now! I’m not letting you leave until I let him know how fucking pathetic he is!”

His thumbnail stopped. Kento’s mind emptied of anything that wasn’t the freezing rage that spread through every nerve of his body.

Every atom in his body wanted to defend Yu. He was always powerless to stop himself when it came to Yu.

“Pathetic?” Kento hissed through his teeth. The stoic facade was shattered. No part of him was capable of caring.

“What other word am I supposed to use?” Gojo spat. His grin was filled with spite. “He hired some desperate actor to scare his blind date away. He’s throwing a tantrum like a goddamned spoiled brat.” He stepped closer to Kento, forehead nearly touching his own. “He’s almost thirty and he still doesn’t know how to suck it up like the rest of us. Fucking. Pathetic.”

Clouds of black dotted Kento’s vision as he heard a snap inside his head. His knuckles cracked against Gojo’s cheekbone before he realized he lifted his arm in the first place. The sting in his knuckles grounded his wayward brain just enough for him to process Gojo sprawled on the dark hardwood of the restaurant’s floor. Whispers and gasps flooded his ears as he watched Gojo gather himself, dumbfounded and numbed just enough to not break down in a full-blown panic.

Gojo swayed as he forced himself up onto his knees, his hand cradling his already bruising cheek. Pure fury twisted his face into a snarl, his unsettling eyes forced feeding dread into Kento’s brain until his mind finally caught up with what he had done.

He punched Gojo in the face. He punched someone with more money than he will ever see in his life in the face. He punched someone more than capable of destroying his life twenty times over in the face.

Kento was going to die. Whether Gojo, Yu, or Yu’s parents killed him, he didn’t know, but one of them would murder him. His parents would have to deal with the posthumous revelation that their son died from being the biggest idiot in the whole world.

His legs moved on their own, filled with survival as their only thought. Kento barreled through the entrance and into the cool night air, immediately breaking into a dead sprint on the crowded sidewalks of Aoyama. He barely registered angry shouting somewhere behind him. All he could focus on was pushing past every single person in his way, his shriveled lungs trying their best to give him enough energy to outrun and lose Gojo before he made it to the train station.

His eyes frantically scanned every inch of the train station platform when he finally arrived. When he didn’t catch a sign of bleached hair and piercing blue eyes, he slumped against a concrete wall, sliding down until his slacks met the dirty station floor. The contracts dropped onto the ground as Kento clenched his fists into his gelled hair.

Chapter Text

"You know, looking at it now, it’s not very noticeable. In low light.”

Satoru glared at Yuuta over the modest mirror on his desk, ignoring the painful shuddering twitches in his bruised left cheek. Yuuta looked down at the ground the moment their eyes met, the perfect picture of chagrin if he didn’t catch sight of his teeth trying to gnaw his smile away.

Two days. Two entire days were spent trying to curb the swelling bruise on Satoru’s left cheek. Cold compresses were pressed against his face nearly every second of the day, and all that happened was that the bruise grew darker. Satoru was forced to break out his years-old foundation to try to cover it up, but it only worked if his still swollen bump wasn’t seen from the side.

He just had to make sure Ryoumen and his parents sat in front of him for the meeting. His parents wouldn’t say anything, but he knew Ryoumen would find any excuse to ridicule him; Shareholders meetings never stopped him in the past.

Satoru closed his eyes. He sighed through his nose, the dark sparks of those memories leaving with the air.

“Make sure you usher Ryoumen and my parents to the seats in front of me when they arrive,” Satoru said. He lifted his arm to look at the heavy platinum watch on his wrist and saw 9:53 on its white clock face. “We should get to the meeting room right now.”

Satoru lifted his closed laptop into its case and zipped it closed. He pushed away from his desk and stood while grabbing his laptop case’s handle, continuous and fluid from practice. Yuuta met him at the door, holding the heavy dark wood door open for him before following close behind Satoru. 

The hard soles of their shoes clacked against the white and gray marble tiles, echoes reverberating off of the cream walls. More sound mingled with the echoes: sounds of people talking, their shoes clicking against the tiles and shiny hardwood of the different floors in the open office spaces, the wheels of racks of clothes on the floors, the metal hangers holding the latest designs tapping against each other and sliding along the metal poles of the moving clothing racks, the mechanical hum of sewing machines coming together in chorus, the clicks of cameras popping off and joining the sewing machines in harmony, the buzzing of the overhead fluorescent bulbs sneaking underneath the cacophony to give it more strength. All of it built up the bright lights around him until Satoru could barely see past the migraine that nearly blinded his vision.

He wished his parents hadn’t banned his sunglasses at these meetings.

“I shared with you the meeting notes I drew up through Drive,” Yuuta said, and Satoru immediately focused on his voice as an anchor. “I made sure to focus on how well the new Infinity eyewear line has been doing, so hopefully Ryoumen-san inevitably bringing up the less than great performance of the Shaman athletic line won’t cause too much of a scene.”

“I really fucking hope so. I’m not in the mood to deal with twenty fossils treating me like a kid.”

They quickly approached the meeting room and Yuuta paused as he attempted to grab the silver doorknob. Satoru stared at him, taking in his pinched brow and widened eyes of confusion. The bile in Satoru’s stomach boiled instantly.

“Yuuta, what’s wrong?”

“Your parents are already inside,” he murmured. Satoru wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t so focused on Yuuta’s every move.

“What do you mean they’re already inside?” Satoru whispered harshly, crowding into Yuuta’s space. His blood froze and drew in all the blood from his already pale face.

The door was yanked open away from them. Satoru tilted his head upward, frozen in place by the deep red eyes of Ryoumen Sukuna. His blood quickly thawed the moment Ryoumen’s face split into a grin dripping with pure cruelty.

“Was wondering when you two would show up,” Ryoumen said. He shook his right arm before lifting it towards his face, reading the time on his gold watch. It was brand new; Satoru could tell from the nearly out of the box shine still on it. “Rude to make your own parents wait on you, but at least the coffee you got us isn’t complete shit this time.”

His veins burned from how quickly his blood boiled. Satoru stood up straight and made eye contact with Ryoumen. He tried to quickly school his face into neutrality, but knew he failed when Ryoumen’s grin just grew wider.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware that the meeting time changed,” Satoru said, shouldering past Ryoumen’s massive form into the meeting room.

His parents sat in the middle of the wide conference table, facing the projection screen Satoru usually sat in front of. His father had a cup of cooling coffee in the ornate black mug Yuuta always reserved for him. Satoru had never seen him drink any of the coffee at meetings, but his mother always insisted on making him take a small serving to be polite. His father’s face was grimmer and angrier than it typically was, while his mother’s face was drawn into the vague air of detached disappointment she usually had for these meetings. She never spoke at these, letting his father “take the lead like men should”. He didn’t know why she bothered to come to shareholder meetings, but he guessed it was mostly boredom and his father’s insistence.

Satoru ground his teeth together to subdue the sigh that tried to escape. He just hoped she didn’t notice the concealer on his face.

“I’m sorry for not noticing the email changing the meeting time,” Satoru said as he sat down in front of his father. Yuuta soon found the seat to his right after he bowed respectfully to his parents. “Hope I didn’t keep you two waiting long.”

“What happened on your date with Haibara-kun Saturday, Satoru?” his mother said.

Every muscle in Satoru’s body tensed. The nerves in his neck jerked backward, forcing Satoru to meet his mother’s piercing blue eyes with his wide and startled gaze. He distantly heard a familiar deep chuckle, Ryoumen entering his vision as he dropped into the seat to his father’s left. His nerves shrieked as his bloodthirsty eyes settled heavily on his face.

Silence compressed his chest as he thought desperately of what to say. He couldn’t tell them that he never met Haibara and instead was punched by some actor playing his lawyer. His parents would never believe that and would become enraged once they assumed he ditched the date. White noise and sharp pins stabbed his mind, worsening his migraine and making it impossible for words to break through the pain. His teeth worked on piercing through his tongue.

“Um, with, uh, a-all due respect, madam…” he heard Yuuta start to stutter out. God, his parents would eat him alive in just a moment, but Satoru was beyond grateful for him stepping in. “I don’t see how this, er, topic is… relevant to the meeting.”

“I and my husband decide what is relevant when, Yuuta, which you should know already,” she said, her eyes dripping with disdain as she stared Yuuta down. “Frankly, I am disgusted by how blatant your attempt to distract me is.”

“Yes, madam, my apologies,” Yuuta said. He bowed his head in deference, making frantic eye contact with Satoru before he lifted his head back up.

She clicked her tongue at Yuuta before turning her ire back onto Satoru.

“Your father lied about the nature of this meeting,” she said, nonchalantly. “A necessity given your nature of avoiding family matters such as this. Now then. What. Happened.”

“It…” Satoru murmured, his mind screaming at him to think of anything amid his migraine and the weight of his parents’ glares. 

Nothing. He couldn’t think of anything that would please them.

“I knew it,” his father finally said, his lips twisted in a grimace. “You never went on the date with Haibara-kun. It has been a month, Satoru! And your mother even went to the trouble of finding someone near your age to help you ease into blind dating! Twenty-eight years of life and you still can’t let go of your childish attitude!”

Rage rushed through his veins, pumping his heart into sudden heat and pounding against his eardrums. The lights in the meeting room seemed to brighten as his mind shrieked. He barely processed Ryoumen standing to pull his mother’s chair away from the table.

A month of mourning a fourteen-year relationship was childish? Satoru was supposed to just immediately move on and marry whatever stranger his parents wanted, like Suguru was nothing more than a long-lasting marriage candidate? Like Satoru and Suguru didn’t spend twenty years entwined in each other’s lives, didn’t spend all of their biggest milestones together, didn’t hold each other up through every single hardship, didn’t give each other every single one of their firsts?

How was it possible to spend his whole life with people that never saw him, not once in his entire life? His heart shredded itself apart in his chest, his chest nearly crushed with the need for air.

“I didn’t go because I already have a boyfriend!”

Everyone in the room stopped moving. Satoru couldn’t hear anyone even take a breath after his outburst. The rush of rage in his body slowly curdled into panic as he fully realized what he had even said. Every ounce of moisture abandoned his throat as it collapsed on itself.

He forced his mind to focus on his parents. His mouth already dug his grave, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted enough to fall into it.

“Like hell you do,” Ryoumen growled at him. “Why the hell would you go on a blind date if you have a boyfriend?”

“Despite Ryoumen-kun’s language,” his mother said, recovered from her surprise, “he does have a point. Why would you not tell us this when we told you about the blind date?”

“I didn’t really have much room to talk when you dumped this blind date on me,” his mouth expelled before he could think himself back into a panic. “You were too busy threatening to replace me as CEO of my own company to listen to anything I had to say.”

“Trying to make me feel guilty when I was merely thinking of our family won’t work, Satoru,” his father sneered. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you, but this is far too convenient.”

“Especially considering that the only people you talk to from a respectable family are the Zenin twins,” his mother added, “and the last time I met them they were still women.”

“It’s not anyone you already know!” Yuuta yelped. Satoru turned to stare at him, unsure whether to be grateful for Yuuta jumping in or horrified that he was digging a grave right next to Satoru’s. “But I-I can definitely arrange a m-meeting with him.”

“Set it up for this Sunday,” his mother ordered, walking out the door Ryoumen held open before Yuuta could finish his responding bow of his head.

“I hope I don’t have to reiterate the consequences of lying to us,” his father said before he approached the door. He patted Ryoumen’s shoulder pointedly before turning back to Satoru. “It would be a great change of pace to have someone in charge that listened to me.”

His father walked out the door, followed by Ryoumen, who turned briefly to salute Satoru with a shit-eating grin on his face before he stepped out the door. The door slowly clicked shut behind them, which seemed to break Yuuta out of his fear-induced stillness.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck, I’m so… What the fuck?!” Yuuta shouted.

Yuuta grabbed his shoulders and turned Satoru in his swivel chair to face him. His eyes were wide with a panic Satoru hadn’t seen in the years they’ve worked together.

“Please tell me you have a boyfriend I can set a meeting with,” Yuuta begged, his hands trembling on his shoulders, “I really don’t want to find out what being an assistant to Ryoumen-san is like.”

“Don’t panic, Yuuta, just-just take some deep breaths,” Satoru said. He gently removed Yuuta’s hands from his shoulders, hoping the tremble in his hands didn’t show.

Think, he needed to think. He had a little less than a week to find a man to show his parents. His parents wouldn’t accept anyone that wasn’t at the very least well-off, and his mother was right that the only rich people he spoke to were Maki and Mai from the Zenin family. Actors were too risky; he didn’t have enough time to vet out which ones were trustworthy and skilled enough to fool his parents for however long he needed. He could try asking Shoko if she knew any of her co-workers at her practice, but the last time he visited he noticed that the only male doctor was much older and already married.

“Satoru, your concealer is running.”

Satoru twitched a little, immediately reaching up to touch the running concealer. It seemed like Satoru forgot to seal the concealer before the meeting, and his sweat was finally wreaking havoc on the makeup.

The concealer used to hide the bruise that the actor gave him. An actor he had more than enough of a lawsuit case against.

The weight in Satoru’s chest finally dissipated as he looked back at Yuuta.

“Set up a meeting with Haibara-kun at that coffee shop two buildings down, Wednesday at two,” Satoru said. He rose from his chair before Yuuta responded, forgetting his laptop as he thought of how he would approach Haibara.

Chapter Text

The fresh batch of sourdough doughnuts sat on the cooling racks, spread apart evenly so that Kento could see if every single one of them had an even light band on their sides. He moved closer and leaned to the right to scan all of them. He found two with a thinner band, sighed and placed them on a large plate on the counter. He leaned to the left and found three more with thinner bands and moved them to join the others on the plate. A third batch where they proved unevenly.

Kento turned around to the movable island behind him, grabbing a red pen from his apron pocket. He uncapped it one-handed and made a note in his recipe notebook to try tupperware to prove the doughnuts since towels and cling wrap didn’t ensure they all proved evenly. He would have to buy larger tupperware than what he has now if he wanted to prepare enough to sell in the shop semi-regularly. He huffed a sigh through his nose and tried to calm the tremor in his hands.

It was the fourth day since the disastrous blind date with Gojo Satoru. He hadn’t heard anything from Yu about the Gojo family demanding an explanation or legal action against him or Yu, but Kento knew something was going to happen to them. The wait for the Gojos’ retaliation suffocated him more with every day that passed. He could barely think about anything else, felt like eyes were watching him whenever he went out in public. His rituals barely eased the thunderstorm of anxiety in his mind, and it was difficult to focus on perfecting recipes for new items he wanted to add to his bakery’s semi-rotating menu.

He was grateful Inumaki-kun worked today; he was scarily insightful and observant, but he never asked Kento what was wrong. Whether it was because he wanted to give him space or because he didn’t really care, Kento didn’t know, he was just relieved he didn’t have to deal with Yoshino-kun’s concerned glances two days in a row. He was a great worker and gave him his space, but he was horrible at hiding his concern, and it made him feel more exposed and vulnerable.

Four knocks made Kento whip his head up. There stood Inumaki-kun, leaning his upper body against the door separating the kitchen from the front of the store to keep it open. He wore his black face mask adorned with gray big-headed aliens all over, paired with his gray crewneck sweater with a spaceship, which was covered by his beige apron. The sweater was a reference to an American show Kento always forgot the name of whenever Inumaki-kun told him. He saw his deep purple eyes stare at the table, and he followed his gaze to find his hands white-knuckled where they gripped the edge of the island. Kento immediately forced his muscles to relax and let go.

“What is it?” he signed to Inumaki-kun. His hands were tingling from renewed blood flow to his fingers, so he hoped they were still intelligible. He tried to sneak a deep breath through his nose to motivate his muscles to relax everywhere.

Inumaki-kun stared at him for a moment. His brows drew together slightly in what Kento thought was concern before they smoothed out. It was nice to know now that he cared about his wellbeing.

“A man is asking for you.” His hands hesitated in mid-air. “Kinda rich looking. Said he knows Haibara-san.”

Ice solidified Kento’s lungs. He couldn’t force more than little breaths in and out of his nose. His blood finally stopped rushing through his veins by freezing to a standstill.

He couldn’t survive a lawsuit. He would lose the shop, be forced to tell his parents that he lost the bakery they built and kept alive for decades all because he couldn’t say no to a man that he’s hopelessly devoted to. He would have to go back into the corporate world, would probably have to work for Gojo Satoru himself because the universe despised him and wanted him dead-

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

He was in control. He was in control. A rich man didn’t automatically mean it was Gojo Satoru. Other rich men existed. Quite a few made their way into the bakery since they were in the busiest part of Yokohama. Yu worked in Yokohama, it was probably just one of his co-workers from the marketing firm who came here after he talked about it.

The block of ice circling his chest melted just the smallest amount. He kept tapping the thumb of his right hand against his fingers to try to coax it to melt further. He swallowed and met Inumaki-kun’s now bald-faced expression of concern.

“What does he look like?” Kento always tried to sign to Inumaki-kun since he preferred keeping his hearing aid off as often as possible, but he couldn’t stop his right hand from repeating his ritual even if he tried. He enunciated as much as possible as an apology.

“Tall, slicked black hair, dark blue eyes.” 

It wasn't Gojo. Relief crashed into him so quickly his knees almost buckled. His mind still shocked itself with panic, but it was quieter. He took a deep breath, dizzy with so much air after minutes of only taking shallow breaths. He slowed his right hand down until he could convince it to stop.

“I'll be out in a moment.” He gestured to the plate of rejected doughnuts. “I set aside the rejects if you want one.”

Inumaki-kun's eyes crinkled in a covered smile and walked over to the counter to grab one before he went back to the storefront. The door swung back and forth until it finally stopped. Kento went over to the industrial sink and washed his hands. He didn’t need to, not having touched the doughnuts after he washed his hands earlier, but the routine motions helped quiet his mind further.

Kento stepped into the storefront and saw Inumaki-kun hunched over the counter with the man he talked about. Parts of his slicked back hair fell forward across his forehead, falling over his droopy dark blue eyes, meeting the dark eyebags underneath. He wore a light gray suit that was clearly tailored to fit him from how no part of it stretched or bundled anywhere where his body wasn’t actively bending. Under the suit jacket was a plain white button-up, dulled with age and washes.

He spotted the whiteboard Inumaki-kun used to communicate with most customers on the counter between them, the man writing something with a look of determination on his face. Inumaki-kun stared at the man while eating his doughnut, face mask tucked under his chin, a look of undisguised interest in his eyes.

Kento ignored it. He refused to engage with his employees’ love lives outside of polite acknowledgment. Yoshino-kun’s partners were pleasant whenever they visited the bakery, but Kento refused to ask them anything apart from how their days were, and he definitely wasn’t going to engage with Inumaki-kun flirting with a customer.

“How can I help you?” he asked when he stood in front of the man.

The man straightened his back from his slouch, his spine perfectly straight in a near instant. The dry erase marker he was using was dropped onto the counter as he clasped his hands together behind his back. His eyes and face hardened into a stoic facade of professionalism, the hair in his face and the dark flush on his cheeks the only things preventing it from being truly stoic.

He heard Inumaki-kun puff little breaths through his nose in silent laughter. The man’s face flushed deeper.

“Hello, Nanami-san.” The man bowed deeply, forehead almost touching the counter. “My name is Okkotsu Yuuta. My employer would like to speak with you.”

Before Kento could do more than open his mouth to ask why, the bell above the entrance rang and he looked up to see Gojo Satoru.

His heart sprinted into overdrive. He ground his teeth together to hide his reaction, but he couldn't stop the sweat forming on his forehead as his body suddenly overheated. All the tension and anticipation built from the last four days invaded his senses until he could barely process anything. Everything around him became blurred, fuzzy, vague silhouettes surrounding him.

Index, one, two, three, four. He couldn't let himself break. Middle, one, two, three, four. He needed to get this over with. Ring, one, two, three, four. He needed to figure out a way to save Yu from all of this. Pinky, one, two, three, four.

“I can't believe you actually own a bakery.” Gojo laughed as he looked at the baked goods in the display case, edged with a tinge of bewilderment. “Hope to god you're a better baker than you are an actor.”

“How did you find me?” Kento forced through his teeth.

“We could discuss all of that right here, in front of your employee and where your customers can come in, but I think it’s best we handle this in private.” He gestured to the kitchen. His lips were stretched wide in a shit eating grin, his unsettling eyes thankfully hidden behind dark round sunglasses. If Kento had seen his eyes he feared, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back from punching him again.

He turned to Inumaki-kun who was staring at him with an expression full of confusion and concern. “Please keep your hearing aid off while I’m in the kitchen, I shouldn’t be too long.”

“You know that sounds like you’re gonna get murdered, right?”

Kento didn’t know how to respond, especially since there was nothing he could say that didn’t sound like a lie. He turned and walked into the kitchen, standing furthest away from the door at the island to put some kind of space between himself and Gojo. A moment later Gojo walked, sans his employee, his steps slow and exaggerated with that grin still on his face. To his surprise, Gojo stopped to lean on the part of the island closest to the door. He expected Gojo to get close to him to make him uncomfortable.

“So, to answer your question, Haibara gave you up,” Gojo started. He moved to bend down to lean more of his arms against the counter, careful to only let the black sleeves of his suit jacket touch clean parts of the surface. “Tried to lie that you were just an actor he hired. He let go of that lie real quick when I showed him Facebook photos I found of you two. Loved your whole emo thing when you were a teenager, by the way.”

Index, one, two, three, four.

“What do you want?” he ground out. He tried to push down the bile that rose up his throat. Middle, one, two, three, four. He hoped Haibara didn’t give into any of Gojo’s possible demands to try to protect him.

Gojo’s grin stretched wider, causing the acid in Kento’s stomach to sour. “My father is trying to replace me as CEO of my own company if I don’t marry someone suitable soon. You’re going to pretend to be my boyfriend to get them off my back.”

Kento’s right hand froze. His mind slowed to a stop as he tried to process what Gojo just said. The neurons in his brain worked to try to unravel every word, having the most issue with unpacking “boyfriend”. His mouth opened and closed without his input, wanting to talk but unable to form anything since his mind was too overwhelmed.

“My lawyer prepared a contract for you to look over for this agreement,” he said as he stood up straight to pull a stack of papers from his jacket. “And before you ask, she’s real, and is more than ready to meet to negotiate this week or next, but I need an answer before next Sunday.” He tossed the papers over to Kento, Kento watching numbly as the papers landed in leftover flour still on the island. “My number is on the last page. Text me whether you want to negotiate the contract or if you’d rather negotiate how much you’re willing to settle for when I sue you for assault.”

Ice and acid settled in Kento’s body. He watched in helpless horror as Gojo meandered his way to the door, sending a lazy salute behind him before he walked through. Silence settled around him, heavy on his neck, when he looked down at the contract sitting before him. His eyes refused to focus on any of the words, trying to spare his brain from more overstimulation and panic.

Kento didn’t know how long he had stood in the kitchen staring at blurred lines. His body didn’t know how to move anymore. His brain felt fried, and he couldn’t think about anything beyond how fucked he was.

The door to the kitchen slammed open sometime later and Kento looked up slowly to see Yu red-faced and panting in the doorway.

“Goddamn it, Kento, you need to stop silencing your phone at work! I’ve been trying to warn you about Gojo all day!”

All Kento could respond with was a numb nod of acknowledgment.

Chapter Text

Terms of Relationship Between Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento.

The following conditions are a proposal for a sustained romantic relationship between Gojo Satoru (now referred to as applicant) and Nanami Kento (now referred to as respondent). While it is acknowledged by both parties that the nature of the relationship is not truly romantic, applicant requests that a condition of this contract is for respondent to feign feelings of romance until the contract lifecycle of one year has been reached.

The conditions of this agreement can be negotiated and disputed by both parties until both applicant and respondent have reached full satisfaction.

Kento sighed and took another gulp of scotch, the intense burn a comfort he hadn't felt in months. It swam through his tired limbs and warmed his muscles, sore from hours of stressed tension. He knew he would have a migraine in the morning and that drinking would make it worse, but he couldn't make himself care.

He was beyond grateful for Yu's help in reading over the contract and listing out all the pitfalls hidden in layers of legal jargon. Yu had even made a list of benefits vs shady garbage he found in there, citing specific words and translating them for him.

He had done all the work for Kento. Why did he want to read it himself? To make sure it was real with his own eyes?

There was no point in denial. He was fucked. He fucked over Yu. He was a goddamn idiot.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay over tonight?" Kento felt Yu's hand rest on his shoulder. He couldn't help how his body sagged in relief. "It's been a while since we've gotten drunk together. We could both use the break."

The offer tempted him. He loved the sight of a drunk Yu, his face even more beautiful with the flushed glow of alcohol, and his drunk giggles were one of his favorite sounds.

But a drunk Kento had a weakened filter, and he was far too vulnerable to risk that around him right now. His chest burned at the thought of handling a falling out with Yu on top of the lawsuit threat from Gojo.

“I’m sure,” he murmured. “Text me when you get home.”

Yu’s hand squeezed his shoulder, a pressure that eased the nervous electricity inside him just enough to take a breath, and then it was gone. The front door creaked open and clicked close, and the uncomfortable anxious heat in his chest was replaced with an equally uncomfortable cold loneliness.

His shaking hand brought his glass up and dumped the rest of the scotch down his throat, the burn masking the cold. Screams echoed through his mind, filling all available corners with different variations of how fucked he was, how fucked Yu was, how fucked his parents would be when he couldn’t send them money from the store anymore, how fucked Inumaki-kun and Yoshin-kun would be when the store was shut down, how-

Kento gripped his thigh to try to ground himself, right hand dropping the empty glass onto his old coffee table to tap against his fingers.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again and again, push back the noise.

Quiet found its foothold in his mind later than he would have liked. He tried to breathe deep and tell himself to be grateful the quiet came at all.

God he felt so pathetic. He dug his left hand into his thigh to stop that thought from spiraling further. He’s already spent too much time wallowing in his own pity, doing any more would just make him freeze in indecision. Kento forced his eyes to focus on the list Yu wrote. 

Benefits: ¥5,680,084 per month for the whole year, option to negotiate terms on the contract, no requirement to live with Gojo.

Shady Bullshit: Can’t tell anyone (outside of Haibara Yu) about the deal nor about Gojo Satoru in general no matter what, must adhere to the life details that Gojo Satoru and his employee Okkotsu Yuuta write for you and can’t divulge actual details of your life to the Gojo family and friends of the Gojo family, can’t date or have one-night stands for life of contract.

Acrid bitterness flooded Kento’s mind as he read the last point Yu wrote down. He stopped trying to date years ago when his last partner realized he had feelings for Yu. The breakup encouraged him to accept that he could never be a good partner for anyone, so being forbidden from dating for a year didn’t mean much to him. One-night stands were also few and far between since the bakery took up most of his time and focus. There was no need to negotiate for that, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.

Kento shook his head to rid himself of the guilt-ridden sludge in his mind. It was pointless to dwell, especially since he knew the moment he received the contract that he would agree to it. He pulled out his phone from his work pants and texted Gojo that he wanted to meet Friday at his bakery at eight pm.

Gojo responded right away with a thumbs up and nothing else.

He would apologize to Yu later.

Index, one, two, three, four.

~~~~

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help clean up?” Yoshino-kun asked. His navy-blue jacket was wrinkled from how tightly he gripped it. “We had a pretty busy day today.”

Kento tried to hold in his sigh, relegating it to just a puff of air through his nose. Normally he appreciated how hard of a worker Yoshino-kun was, but he was so mentally exhausted that he just wanted a moment of peace by himself. Yoshino-kun wasn’t the distant and anxious employee he was when they first met, now much more confident in himself and warm, but he still took criticism harshly, and the last thing Kento wanted to do was make him think he wanted him out of the store so quickly because he did a bad job today.

Drawing up every crumb of patience left in his overstimulated and overworked brain, he forced his lips up into a small and (hopefully) friendly smile. “I’m sure. I’ll see you on Monday. Tell Itadori-kun and Fushiguro-kun that I hope they have a good weekend as well.”

A small shy smile spread across Yoshino-kun’s face, partnered with a happy glow on his cheeks. He finally put on his jacket and waved goodbye as he walked past the window to the shop.

Kento sighed and looked at the clock above the door. 7:43. Any longer and Yoshino-kun would have been forced to be somewhat aware of this nonsense. He already felt horrible that Inumaki-kun was aware of Gojo’s existence, but hopefully he can keep Yoshino-kun out of it.

He walked up to the front door, locked it, and flipped the sign to “closed”. The contract laid on the clean part of the counter in the kitchen, ready in advance for the meeting so that he could spend all of his time focused on cleaning before Gojo arrived. It tended to calm his nerves whenever his brain overwhelmed itself.

A knock on the front door stopped him in his tracks. His blood froze and his right thumb started to tap against his fingers before he was even aware of it. There was no way it could be Gojo. It was most likely someone that wanted to be let in even through the closed sign. His mind replayed this mantra over and over as he forced his stiff legs to turn himself around.

Gojo Satoru, Okkotsu Yuuta, and a woman with a short black bob, a long and expensive looking black coat wrapped around herself, and a smirk gracing her face.

“Open up!” Gojo yelled, semi-muffled through the door. “We don’t have all night!”

Electricity shocked his limbs, creating a tremor in his muscles that he hoped none of them could notice. He forced his legs to move forward and unlocked the door, spinning himself back around to enter the kitchen without another glance at the three. Almost immediately he leaned his palms onto the counter and forced shuddering breaths in and out of his lungs, desperate to gain some control back over himself before the three of them entered the kitchen. He could hear them talking about something, but he couldn’t focus on deciphering any of their words, his brain instead focusing every ounce of concentration into breathing.

Index, one, two, three, four.

He was in control.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

This would be quick. In and out.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

He was in control.

“What time do you open?” he heard the woman ask behind him.

Kento straightened his back, grabbed the contract, and turned to face them. He spotted a clean spot on the island in front of him and dropped the contract down, not trusting himself fully enough to slowly lower it without visibly shaking. He made eye contact with the woman, her smirk gentled into something more friendly than smug.

“7:00 am,” he answered. He was proud that his voice didn’t waiver.

The woman hummed pleasantly. “Perfect. My fiance has a sweet tooth and has been dying for good macarons lately.”

“Awesome conversation, seriously, but I want to go home as soon as possible,” Gojo chimed in. He already had two black ink pens brandished in his hand and tossed one towards Kento on the island. “This is my lawyer, Zen’in Mai, Mai, this is the dipshit that punched me, you’re acquainted, now are there terms you want to negotiate, dipshit?”

Kento’s teeth grinded together, but he forced his anger back and grabbed the pen. Gojo had every right to be bitter towards him anyway, there was no point in getting angry back. He took a deep breath through his nose and forced his jaw to unclench.

“I have just one request: Leave the Haibaras as out of this as possible. You may have to make them sign NDAs since they’ve all known me for years, and Yu’s parents will expose me if given the chance.”

“Done and done.” Zen’in-san typed something on her phone as she spoke. “I’ll have those drafted as soon as possible and sent to Okkotsu-san for review.” She pocketed her phone and made eye contact with Kento again. “Was there anything else you wanted to re-work or negotiate in the contract itself?”

“No.” Everyone’s eyebrows shot into their hairlines. Kento ignored them, turned to the last page, and signed it. “I just wanted to make sure the Haibaras would be kept out of it before I signed.” He flipped the contract back to the front page, still refusing to make eye contact to try to maintain any semblance of composure. “Please tell me where else I need to sign or initial, Zen’in-san.”

Silence weighed onto Kento’s neck, the pressure nearing unbearable until Zen’in-san came closer and took the contract from him. She marked different blank spots with her own red pen on the pages with a practiced hand before sliding it back in front of him. “Mai-san is fine, just so you know.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and signed and initialed in every place she marked. He finally lifted his head when he was done and made eye contact only with Mai-san, who grabbed the contract and handed it over to Gojo to sign in the leftover blank spaces. 

An awkward silence settled around them as Gojo signed, and Kento could feel someone staring holes into the side of his head. His head turned slightly and found himself staring directly into Okkotsu’s large and shining eyes, overcome with a sadness that burned into his retinas. He looked away before his eyes could become a permanent fixture in his brain, though an uncomfortable rock took over his stomach before he could prevent it.

Mercifully Gojo finished and handed the contract over to Mai-san. She tucked the contract under her arm and extended her other arm for a handshake. Kento numbly took her hand, his arm acting more out of instinct than anything else.

“I look forward to speaking with you more, Nanami-san. Genuinely.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled. He couldn’t make himself return the sentiment. All he could think about was how he could apologize to Yu when he found out. He let go of her hand as soon as politely possible and watched them all walk out of the kitchen, the bell chime signaling that he was finally alone.

The quiet felt cold.

Chapter Text

Satoru rolled his sleeve back and stared at the silver hands ticking against the black background of his watch. 8:32. The driver Yuuta sent out was supposed to return with Nanami over ten minutes ago. His heart beat just hard enough that he couldn’t ignore it. He swallowed to relieve his drying throat.

They had to leave by 9:30 to meet his parents for brunch at 10:00 am. Before they could leave, they had to make sure Nanami memorized the fake life details they sent to him. And before they could do that they had to get Nanami to Satoru’s favorite tailor to get him an appropriate suit.

“Ijichi-san just texted me.”

Yuuta stepped in front of him, forcing Satoru to focus on him. His face was impassive as he held eye contact.

“He said he had to wait for Nanami-san to finish writing a list of tasks for his employees to do while he’s gone for the day,” Yuuta continued, pocketing his phone, “and then he ran into unexpected traffic on his way back. He should be back any minute now.”

Satoru groaned. The thought of his mom’s face if she saw him in a wrinkled suit was the only thing stopping him from throwing himself onto one of the couches in his living room. “It’s a Sunday morning , why are so many people out today?”

“Church and work would be my guess.”

“Japanese Christians don’t exist; we’ve been over this.”

A small smile cracked through Yuuta’s impassive face. Relaxation bubbled in Satoru’s chest, coercing a small smile of his own out. “They exist, but I’m not having this argument with you again.”

“‘Cause you know you’ll lose.”

Yuuta’s eyes rolled good-naturedly, and Satoru’s smile stretched into a grin.

Yuuta had been standoffish with him since they had Nanami sign the contract. Every joke he made, every private comment shared between them at meetings, all of it just resulted in a stretched smile that never reached his eyes.

He wasn’t stupid; He knew Yuuta was upset about holding a lawsuit above Nanami’s head. He’s always had a soft heart, even for people he barely even knows.

But Satoru didn’t care. He was Yuuta’s family. He was the one that accepted Yuuta when the Gojos refused to acknowledge his existence as a bastard. He was the one with his future on the chopping block. He wasn’t going to apologize when he had done nothing to Yuuta. 

That didn’t stop him from feeling weight leave his chest with Yuuta’s smile.

The electronic chime of his doorbell echoed throughout the halls. Satoru heard the door open, brief polite greetings followed soon after. Footsteps started coming closer.

“ Finally ,” Satoru groaned. He straightened his back, smoothed the lapels of his dark purple suit jacket, and sat down gently onto the couch behind him. Every movement he made was careful, conscious of the folds and possible wrinkles that could be created, mentally cataloging what parts of his body were okay to touch the couch. His arms were draped along the arm and back of the couch, his back straight and barely touching the back cushion, his right ankle resting on the top of his knee.

Just as he settled as much as he allowed himself to, Ijichi rounded the corner with Nanami in tow. His eyes were immediately drawn towards the various stains adorning his white chef jacket and maroon apron around his waist. Thankfully his hands and face were clean, and his hair looked passingly acceptable.

“I apologize for being so late,” Ijichi said as he bowed over and over again.

Satoru sighed loudly and felt the slightest tingle of satisfaction when he saw Ijichi become even more nervous. “Leave us, Ijichi-kun.”

“Y-yes, I-I apologize again, please h-have a great day,” Ijichi stammered before spinning on his heel and walking away as fast as possible.

Satoru bit his cheek to stop a grin. Messing with Ijichi was hilariously simple, he would never tire of it.

“It wasn’t his fault that I’m late.”

His eyes were pulled back towards Nanami. He scowled at him, his face even more severe than when they first met. “I was running behind on this morning’s tasks. He shouldn’t be blamed for that.”

A mixture of sour annoyance and sweet malice warred in Satoru’s chest. Nanami had no right to tell him what to do or how to feel, but he wasn’t going to miss a chance to taunt and mock him for believing he could. His still healing cheek pulsed in agreement, still covered in the same foundation he’d been forced to wear every single day that week.

“I can blame whoever I want for whatever I want.” He stood up and slowly walked over to him until they were close enough for Satoru to effectively look down at him. Nanami was only a few centimeters shorter than him, but he wanted Nanami to feel every single centimeter of that difference. “All you need to be focused on is memorizing the history we gave you and improving your shit acting skills. Got it?”

Nanami’s jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. Satisfaction sparked all across Satoru’s brain, pulling a shit eating grin wide across his face. He walked past him and towards his garage.

“Recite what you remember,” he called behind him when he heard Nanami and Yuuta’s footsteps behind him on the marble floors.

“I am a financial strategist for Teneo. My mother is a retired heart surgeon, and my father is a retired CFO for a medical supply company in Denmark named Buch and Holm. I have a bachelor’s degree in accounting from Yale.”

“Okay so far,” Satoru hummed, “but what do you know about me? Can’t marry someone without knowing at least basic shit about them.”

A small huff of breath barely reached his ears. Cruel satisfaction warmed his veins.

“You were named heir of your family’s investment company, Gojo, LLC, when you graduated from Oxford with a business management degree. You rejected the business in order to start your own fashion company, but despite this your parents invested heavily in Sixth Eye.”

Flashes of screaming matches with his parents, expensive gifts they tried buying his affection with destroyed in rage, crying into Suguru’s chest after every single fight, Suguru’s strong hands anchoring him, the scent of-

Satoru’s jaw clenched. He twisted the lock on the garage entrance harder than he should’ve, pushed it open fast enough to hide the tremble in his hand.

“Sa-Gojo-san, are you-”

“Damn, Yuuta, did you only give Nanami stuff you can find on Google?” he laughed, projecting his voice loud enough to drown Yuuta out.

~~~~

Over the brief period of time he has known Nanami, Satoru couldn’t help but feel bitter over how handsome he was. His cheekbones were sharp, his legs were long, he was in shockingly good shape considering he baked for a living, and his skin didn’t show a hint of blemishes past. Even his tailor couldn’t stop her cheeks from flushing around him, and Utahime was one of the most professional people he’d ever met.

His still healing cheek pulsed underneath his makeup in anger. His teeth pulled on the inside of his cheek as he watched Utahime walk him to a private room to take his measurements.

Satoru shifted to face Yuuta next to him on the couch. “Did you think of what our falling in love story is?”

“Yes,” Yuuta said as he shifted to face him, flipping through his binder, “and I think I came up with one that is not just believable but airtight .”

“Lay it on me then.”

“So, to give more credibility to him being a financial strategist, you met him around a little over a year ago to discuss new strategies to advertise the Infinity eyewear collection that would help save money. I figured that the disaster of the Shaman line would lend authenticity to this.”

“I will get my foothold in the athleisure market one day. Mark my fucking words.”

“I think next time it would help not to advertise it as “the most spiritual experience you can wear”.”

Satoru scoffed. “That was great, people just need a better sense of humor.”

Yuuta rolled his eyes. “You two were in close talks with each other to make sure the Infinity line went off according to the plan Nanami made exactly, and you were so impressed you stayed in contact with him months after the line launched. After you and Suguru broke up, Nanami reached out to you when he heard the news to see if you were okay. You were shocked and touched by this, and the two of you rapidly grew closer until you bit the bullet and asked him to dinner. You two have been dating for about two weeks now.”

Yuuta lifted his head and snapped his binder shut. “Anything you want to add or remove?”

Satoru shook his head. The story was well thought out and believable. Yuuta had even thought to ensure Nanami was associated with one of his successful fashion lines to project competence. It would add a preemptive point in their favor.

He didn’t particularly enjoy the implication that he jumped immediately from Suguru to a new relationship, but that was a detail that couldn’t be helped timeline-wise. It also lent more authenticity; His parents saw him as childish and impulsive. Him jumping to a brand new relationship was more believable than him mourning one.

Bitterness rotted his throat and tongue at the thought.

“Everything sounds good. Great job, I appreciate it.” He hoped Yuuta didn’t hear the strain in his throat.

“Are you okay?” Fuck, of course he heard it. “You’ve been off today, Satoru.”

“Why are you suddenly not mad at me?”

Yuuta’s mouth hung open, croaks of confusion leaving his throat.

“For days you’ve been mad at me, clutching your pearls because I’m using an asshole that assaulted me in order to keep the company I built.” Yuuta’s silence encouraged more vitriol to spill from his mouth. It was almost soothing. “Now you’re smiling, laughing at my jokes, checking in on me, as if the cloud above your head just… never existed.” Yuuta’s face hardened, his jaw clenched and eyes angry. He should care, but the fluttering and frantic panic in his chest pushes it down. “I don’t need you treating me like a fragile flower. It feels just as shitty as being treated like a child.”

His head spun away from Yuuta. Seeing Yuuta truly angry and hurt would make him wilt and apologize, and Yuuta would know everything in his mind. Flashes of hard times, held together by Suguru and Suguru alone, the expanding void in his chest when he remembered that he wouldn’t get any new memories of Suguru’s comfort.

Yuuta had seen too much of that weakness, dealt with too much of that weakness. His parents already thought he was incompetent; he couldn’t stand Yuuta thinking he was too.

He’d rather Yuuta be pissed than pitying.

“What do you think?”

Satoru’s eyes focused in front of him when he heard Utahime’s voice. She stood off to the side behind Nanami, watching him as he looked at himself in front of the three-part folding mirror. Utahime had chosen a dark maroon suit with a charcoal dress shirt and dull black dress shoes. Nanami looked awkward, plucking and pulling at different parts of his outfit with the same grace as someone that had lost all feeling in his hands. He scowled, but tried to smile when he made eye contact with Utahime.

“It’s great, thank you. I’ve never had a suit fit me better.”

“Great!” Satoru shouted and stood up to saunter over to one of the windows of the shop. “Yuuta will fill you in on how we fell in love. I’m gonna call my hairdresser to get over here quick.” He pulled out his phone and called Panda.

Panda was talkative and was always down for shooting the shit. He was always a perfect distraction for Satoru, and he hoped that moment of distraction would be enough to keep him together through brunch.

Chapter Text

Despite being friends since high school, Kento had never been invited over to Yu’s place. It was never considered an option whenever they wanted to hang out after school, Kento’s home always their default. He had spoken to Yu’s parents on a handful of occasions, but they actively kept a wall between themselves and Kento, as if letting their guards down around him would cause them to lose all their wealth in an instant. This theory was given weight when they refused to go to both Yu and Kento’s high school and university graduation parties.

The distance between him and Yu’s parents never bothered him. Anyone that would kick their child out for refusing to settle for a loveless life was less than insignificant to him.

But he wished he had at least seen the Haibara house so he could be just a little bit prepared for how the rich lived.

The Gojo estate was massive to the point of fantastical. The polished stone driveway felt like it went on forever, winding back and forth through fields of uniformly cut grass, so perfectly green that it seemed artificial. Dark green hedges of perfectly matching bushes lined the sides of the driveway, flat on top and tapered the closer it went to the ground. As they got closer, the hedges were replaced by rows of daylilies, bright yellow centers stark against their red-orange tips yawned out against the green foliage around them.

The Gojo mansion was a rectangular “u”, surrounding the end of the driveway almost as if to lure anyone that came close enough in, tinged with an aura of menace that he couldn’t shake. Cobblestone of differing shades of gray and black made up most of its facade, broken apart by cream lined windows and matching pillars that held up a rounded balcony above the shaded entrance, large walnut doors set deep into the shadows. The roof was a large pyramid underneath smaller pyramids, all made of the same black tiles, broken apart by splashes of cream like the walls it sat upon.

The Gojo home was the pinnacle of elegance and menace.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Kento jumped when his door was opened for him. The driver, Ijichi, gave him a nervous smile as he held the door of the car open.

“Have a great day, sir. I hope brunch goes well.”

Middle, one, two, three, four.

He forced the corners of his lips up. Yu told him his polite smile looked too threatening, but he wanted to at least try to comfort Ijichi; Having Gojo Satoru for a boss warranted some comfort, especially with how kind Ijichi’s been to Kento.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he stepped out of the car. Ijichi bowed deeply, Kento returning it with one of his own. The suit bent and followed his limbs without effort. It unsettled him slightly, wearing a suit so perfectly cut for him. He hoped he hid the lump of discomfort lodged in his ears, blasting static into his eardrums, and putting him off balance.

Ijichi lightly jogged behind him and Kento turned to see him opening the passenger door for Gojo. Okkotsu got out of the backseat on his own, his face still frozen in the polite stoicism it’s been the whole car ride. The only side anything changed was the iron grip he had on the binder in his hand.

On the other hand, Gojo didn’t try to hide any of his discomfort. A scowl was etched deep into his face, clearer now that he had pocketed his sunglasses. The intense blue of his eyes amplified the scowl. Gojo’s eyes had an uncanny ability to project whatever he was feeling to anyone that saw him. It was no wonder why he always wore sunglasses.

“Stop standing around,” Gojo said as he stalked past Kento. “I don’t want them to be pissed for being late. I already have too much of a headache.”

Thoughts of being found out or rejected by Gojo’s parents filled his head. Yelling, sneering, kicking them out, Gojo angry beyond belief, telling Yu’s parents the truth, Yu being hurt because of Kento, Yu leaving him because of-

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Breaths rattled in and out of his chest.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

A hand landed on his trembling shoulder. Every muscle in his body stiffened, flipping from high alert to fight or flight in an instant, but they relax just a bit when he sees a sad and sympathetic smile on Okkotsu’s face.

“I’m sorry about him. He always gets like this around his parents, but we thankfully won’t have to deal with them much after this brunch.”

He’s been like this since we first met, burned on the tip of his tongue. Kento gnawed on his cheek to push the words down. Today was already tense, he didn’t need to make it worse.

Wordlessly he nodded at Okkotsu and turned to follow Gojo towards the entrance.

The grand doors opened and out stepped a gargantuan man in a black button down and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up his arms, showing a myriad of geometric tattoos, mirroring each other but with a meaning that he was sure was only clear to the man himself. As Kento moved closer he spotted a large grin aimed at Gojo, crooked teeth bright and dripping animosity, just like his golden-brown eyes. His pink-red hair was slicked back, and seeing it sparked… something in Kento…

Familiarity?

“What are you doing here?” he heard Gojo hiss lowly at the man. Every part of Gojo’s body was tense, like he was seriously considering taking on someone twice his size, his parents be damned.

A boyfriend would intervene, but he didn’t know how to calm Gojo down. If anything, Kento had proven that all he could do was make him angrier. But if he didn’t do anything, would that be suspicious? Would he look like someone that didn’t care about helping his partners? Would that be better or worse than this interaction becoming a shouting match, or becoming physical? This man was close enough to Gojo’s parents to just be in their home on a weekend, so doing anything against him could cause his parents to hate him on principle, and Kento didn’t know how he could possibly recover if-

His chest felt ten times smaller. Every breath he took wasn’t anywhere near enough to keep him sustained. His vision began to blur, his hands sweat in the pockets of a suit that felt too restrictive, too tight, too much, he-

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

Index one two three four.

Middle one two three four.

Ring one two three four.

Pinky one two three four.

Why wasn’t it working why wasn’t it helping why couldn’t he calm down why couldn’t he do anything he was fucked Yu was fucked his parents were fucked fucked fucked fucked -

“-san? Nanami-san, can you hear me? Nanami-san, Nanami-san! ”

Large gasps of air filled his chest. The air was cold as it entered and overheated as it left. Smooth stone pressed all along his back and provided a coolness to his skin his brain decided he should never live without again. Dark and light blue pierced his eyes, and it took his brain what felt like hours to process them as Okkotsu’s and Gojo’s eyes, Okkotsu’s dark blue radiating worry and Gojo’s light blue projecting pure confusion.

“Nanami-san, can you hear me?” Okkotsu asked again.

“Y… yeah,” he croaked back. His throat refused to expand wide enough to let him speak louder.

“Oh thank god.” Okkotsu stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed as he walked in a small circle, stopping to make eye contact with him again. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just. I just need a minute.”

“You get thirty seconds.” Gojo spun on his heel and stalked back to the entrance.

Annoyance and anxiety burned through his limbs until they trembled just a bit harder. He heard an annoyed tsk from Okkotsu and focused on him again.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Okkotsu moved to stand next to him along the stone wall of the mansion. Kento could feel the warmth emanating from his body, but Okkotsu made sure no part of their bodies made contact. Cool appreciation washed through him at the gesture, a balm to his overheated body and shaking limbs.

“I get panic attacks when I come here, too.”

Kento wasn’t surprised; Okkotsu was an anxious mess when they met, though he assumed that had more to do with Inumaki-kun than him as a person. It sounded like it was a mixture of both.

“They’re my aunt and uncle, but even I have trouble winning their approval at times.”

Kento’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “You’re related to Gojo?”

What could only be described as giggles left Okkotsu’s mouth. “Yeah, but don’t let them know I told you. Trust me, it’s better in the long run.” Sadness weighed down Okkotsu’s smile as he looked down. Why buzzed at the tip of his tongue, but dredges of dread weighed his tongue down before he could ask. With a shake of his head, he turned his face back up to Kento, kindness pushing as much of the sadness away as it could. “Satoru was being an ass, but he’s right that we shouldn’t take too long out here. His parents don’t have any patience and with Ryoumen-san here we have to do what we can not to provoke them.”

“What exactly is he to the Gojos? He doesn’t look like he’s family.”

“He’s Gojo-sama’s personal assistant and apprentice. He’s doing whatever he can to be named the successor of Gojo, LLC when Gojo-sama retires. Part of that effort includes riling up both Satoru and his parents whenever they’re in a room together so that they do nothing but fight. Unfortunately, his efforts have been very successful.”

Nervous energy began to flood his systems again. Okkotsu seemed to notice and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Just stick to the story we told you. We’re a team today, even if Satoru doesn’t act like it.”

Doubt soaked through his mind in acrid mud. Satoru seemed like someone that was easily distracted by his own anger and annoyance; Him remembering to support Kento and Okkotsu in their lying seemed unlikely. But he didn’t want Okkotsu’s effort to be wasted. He tried to feign reassurance as much as he could, squeezing Okkotsu’s hand to try to show it. His smile grew, and Kento followed him as they made their way back to the entrance.

“Hey, you alright?” Ryoumen asked Kento over Satoru’s shoulder. “Your allergies under control now?” His golden-brown eyes scanned every inch of him, trying to find any amount of weakness he could.

Kento’s jaw clenched. He needed to pull it together, if not to help Gojo then to deny him any satisfaction in breaking him down.

“Yes, I was able to down some medicine in time. Daylilies tend to run havoc on my body.”

Ryoumen’s grin widened. His shoulder crashed into Satoru’s and he swaggered over to Kento, sticking his right hand towards him. “Ryoumen Sukuna. You the new boyfriend?”

“Yes, I’m Nanami Kento.” His hand was crushed the moment he held it out to Ryoumen. Kento grinded his teeth together and tried to squeeze back as hard as possible through the bone crunching pain. “Good to meet you.”

His hand screamed in relief when Ryoumen let go and spun back around to the entrance. Gojo moved away before Ryoumen could crash into his shoulder again. “They’re in the downstairs living room, I’ll take you to them.”

Kento sighed through his nose. He stopped next to Gojo to put a tentative arm around his back, pulling him from his venomous glare at Ryoumen’s back and into a confused glare at Kento. “You okay, boyfriend? ”

Boyfriend seemed to bring him back into rationality, his glare disappearing and his posture straightening in his arm. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with.” He pulled Kento’s arm away. “They hate any type of PDA, so let’s stick with just walking in together. When we sit down, sit close but not close enough to touch.”

Kento nodded and walked side by side with Gojo. Waves of anxiety clawed into his heart with electric hands, but he tried to bury it with deep breaths and with his ritual.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

Pinky, one, two,-

“Nanami-san?”

A very familiar voice rang through the air and straight into his ears. Sitting next to Ryoumen on an ornate cream couch of green and black paisley was Itadori-kun.

Itadori-kun, with eyes as gold as Ryoumen’s.

Itadori-kun, with hair the same color as Ryoumen’s, slicked back just like his.

Itadori-kun, in an ill-fitting gray suit, across from Gojo’s parents, in their living room, like he knew them.

“How the hell do you know my kid brother?” Ryoumen asked, suspicious but gleeful all the same.

Fucked.

Chapter Text

Satoru should have known the universe wouldn’t bless him with an actor that could roll with the punches. First the panic attack outside for no reason at all, and now he was frozen and staring wide-eyed at Ryoumen’s kid brother.

Who apparently already knew Nanami, because of course he did.

“You’ve met before, Itadori-kun?” his mother asked Ryoumen’s brother, who apparently had a different last name. Satoru was genuinely shocked they were still speaking to him with a sign of re-marriage as glaring as that.

They were wrapped tighter around Ryomen’s finger than he thought. He could feel heat bubbling under the skin of his forehead, causing a jitter to begin that he suppressed as much as possible.

“Yeah, my pa-friend works for Nanami-san. We’ve talked every now and then when I visit him at work.”

No.

“And what does your friend do for a living?” his father asked.

Fuck.

“Oh, he’s a-”

“Fantastic employee!” Satoru blurted out, feeling every bit as insane as the stares from everyone in the room told him he was. “In fact, Kento can’t stop talking about how great of an employee he is!” He snaked his arm behind Nanami’s back and pinched his lower back as hard as possible. The muffled yelp and jump Nanami let out helped alleviate the nerves slamming against each other in his chest just a little. “Isn’t that right, hon?”

“Y-yeah-yes, Yoshino-kun is a wonderful employee.” Nanami moved toward one of the unoccupied armchairs with stiff movements, like a wooden toy with rusted joints that haven’t moved in decades. He dropped down with less grace than he had on the walk over. “My firm would be nothing without his help.”

Satoru moved to sit down in the armchair next to Nanami. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ryoumen’s eyes squint in suspicion and Itadori’s head tilt in confusion.

He willed every single deity and the universe itself to keep their mouths shut.

Thankfully, his parents didn’t notice and turned toward them to show that Nanami and Satoru now had their full attention. “Do forgive us for the unexpected company today,” his father said, smoothing down his already perfectly pressed navy-blue suit. “Our interview with Itadori-kun was supposed to end fifteen minutes ago, but we lost track of time.”

“It’s fine, really, I always enjoy Itadori-kun’s company.” Satoru didn’t even have to look to know Nanami was hammering his words through his teeth.

“As do we,” his mother said. She turned back to Itadori with a polite smile. “He will be a great replacement for Ryoumen-kun.”

A quarry of stones dropped into his gut. “His replacement?”

“Just got promoted to partner.” Ryoumen’s smug grin turned the rocks in his stomach into piles of nausea. Satoru’s nails dug into the arms of the pristine gray fabric of the chair. He turned to Ryoumen, trying his best to emanate his rage without glaring. The weight of his sunglasses in his breast pocket grew tenfold, yearning to be back on his face to hide. “I think I’ll make Sixth Eye my first project.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “When’s the earliest we can meet? I want to see what I can do to help get you out.”

His vision was suddenly blocked by dark gray fabric. His neck drew back to stare at the back of Yuuta’s head.

“Today is a personal occasion. Please reach out to me tomorrow with any business related issues, Ryoumen-san.”

Satisfaction soothed Satoru’s tensed muscles when Ryoumen frowned. Satoru watched as he straightened his back until it rested on the back of the couch. Lazily, he tilted his head back to look into Yuuta’s eyes. The grin on his face did nothing to smooth out the animosity in his eyes. “Looking forward to it.”

“While you’re correct that we shouldn’t speak about business anymore,” Satoru’s father said, “I ask that you not be so rude to my business partners, Yuuta.”

Yuuta’s back crumpled ever so slightly into a hunch before he walked back behind Satoru’s chair. “Apologies, Gojo-sama.”

Guilt slithered up his throat, trying to force him to give in and defend Yuuta. Satoru clenched his jaw to trap it in a prison of his own teeth.

“I do apologize for this display, Nanami-kun,” his mother said. “I promise we are more put together than this.”

“It’s more than fine, madam.” Nanami’s lips twitched, as if they refused to smile. Part of Satoru is glad; He had never seen the man smile in the short time they’ve known each other but he just knew it would creep him out. No one with a face that severe should ever smile.

“How did you meet Satoru? He’s never been one to socialize, so I’m curious.”

Why would I when all I needed was-

He tried to bite through his tongue to stop the thought in its tracks. The last thing he needed was to accidentally start a fight, especially when he could already feel the frantic frustration of being insulted bubble up.

“I met Satoru a little over a year ago. He called my financial firm to discuss new strategies to advertise the Infinity eyewear collection while saving as much money as possible.”

Satoru’s lungs froze.

They forgot to tell Nanami not to call him “Satoru”.

His mother’s disapproving hum filled the air. Satoru tried his best not to drop his forehead into his hand.

“You two must be especially close if you already call him “Satoru”. You two can’t have been dating for very long.”

“Yes, madam, we’ve only been together for about two weeks. We became very close while I worked on the Infinity line before then though.”

“So you met Suguru-kun? And you’re fine dating a man with such a long relationship so soon after a breakup?”

Satoru felt his teeth rattle as he ground them against each other, worsening when he heard Yuuta’s panicked inhale behind him.

Yuuta never briefed Nanami on Suguru.

Satoru was sure it was his fault. Yuuta was probably too used to avoiding all discussions of Suguru that it just never crossed his mind.

“Uh, no, I never met Getou-san.”

He could hear the waver in Nanami’s voice. It was especially noticeable after how steadily and confidently he’d been speaking so far.

“Strange, considering how often he visited Satoru at work.”

“This was right after the Shaman line failed,” Satoru’s mouth blurted. “I was in a bad mood about it for a while, so Suguru left me alone at work.”

His father grunted. “Of course it would be for such a childish reason.”

God, he prayed that his face didn’t show any of the anger and hurt that was slowly building brighter inside of him.

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before. Relax. Relax.

“Dear, please,” his mother scolded with a click of her tongue. “I’m glad to hear that Satoru’s history hasn’t hindered your opinion of him, nor did seeing his finances in a time of such turmoil.”

“Personally, I think it’s best that I met him then. You don’t really know someone until you see them struggle.”

“What do you really want?”

The room hollowed out in the wake of Ryoumen’s question.

Satoru’s eyes went back to him without his control. He was still leaning back onto the couch, his head bent back onto the top of the couch’s back, tilted to the left so he could glare down his nose past Satoru and towards Nanami.

His jaw hurt from how long it had been clenched. Sweat bubbled and spilled from his forehead in volumes he knew he couldn’t hide anymore. He couldn’t afford to let his anger get the best of him, but it was like Ryoumen was created to single handedly enrage him in ways he never thought possible. Only his parents and Suguru had this much control over his emotional state, and he despised himself for letting a parasite like Ryoumen have that control.

“I’m afraid I’m of the same mind as Ryoumen-kun.”

Satoru’s neck whipped him back to his father, whose eyes were as imperious as they always were when he wanted to put someone in their place. “When you have the same amount of pull and influence as we do, everyone wants some piece of it, no matter how good their intentions.” He slouched forward and pointed a long pale finger at Nanami, his face darkening as it fell into a scowl. “What is it that you want from us? Money? Power? And don’t even try to say you want nothing other than Satoru, no one here is naive enough to believe that.”

“Why is it so impossible to believe someone can just like me?”

“Satoru, control yourself,” his mother scolded. All it did was make his anger burn hotter. He could feel the last vestige of control begin to unravel. Shame poisoned his heart at how easily his parents still hurt him, the same as when he was a child.

That was all he would ever be to them.

“Safety.”

His head swiveled to Nanami for the first time since they sat down. There was the slightest tremble in his hand, caused by aborted twitches of his fingers being barred from touching his thumb. His face, however, was solid, an unmoving picture of calm confidence. He was almost impressed by how put together he appeared, considering how fearful he was when they walked in.

“All I’ve ever wanted in life was safety. It’s why I pursued a career in the financial sphere; I find fulfillment in giving others the tools they need to be safe.” It took every ounce of willpower to not jump when Nanami’s rough calloused hand grabbed his own across the space between their armchairs. “Satoru makes me feel safer than I have in years. I don’t want to lose that feeling.” Nanami made eye contact with him, an undeniable warmth radiating from his dark brown eyes. It was so palpable that Satoru felt the angry flush on his face confuse itself into an embarrassed heat.

Why he wasn’t capable of this caliber of acting all the time he didn’t know, but it would be something he would demand more from him. He had no excuse for choking earlier if he could pull this off.

“Um…”

Satoru’s head snapped back to his left, and he could see everyone else’s heads follow. Itadori stood, the ill-fitting gray suit amplifying the awkward energy emanating from his slouched posture and hand rubbing the back of his neck. The nervous chuckle completed the picture of nerves and banished the uncomfortably warm silence Nanami placed with his declaration.

“I’m going to get a drink. C-can I get anything for anyone?”

Silence greeted him. Satoru didn’t realize how hard he was panting until it was all he could focus on.

His parents shook their heads. Ryoumen rolled his eyes at his brother.

“Water,” Satoru croaked, cringing at how rough his voice sounded from the strain of held back hurt. “Please,” he forced himself to add. Itadori had no fault in this, he deserved at least a modicum of manners.

“Yeah, sure, do, uh, do you want to come with, Nanami-san?” Itadori’s smile was as small as it was forced. It did nothing to smooth down the worried crease in his brow either. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Think it’d be nice to, er… catch up a little.”

Nanami’s hand tightened in his hold briefly before he let go. Satoru pulled his hand back, possibly too quickly. His hand felt cold and vulnerable in the sudden absence, and he clutched his other hand around it to try to erase the feeling. He couldn’t tell if it was from how unbearably hot Nanami’s hand was or from how uncomfortable it was to have anyone other than Suguru cradle his hand like that.

“I would like that, thank you.” Nanami gestured for Itadori to walk ahead of him, walking close behind Itadori’s nervous and trembling gait.

With Itadori and Nanami left the awkward warmth, leaving cold familiarity in its wake. He couldn’t decide what was better. On the one hand, he got a break from Nanami feigning affection; He didn’t realize how unsettling it would be to witness. On the other hand, him and Yuuta being alone with his parents and Ryoumen never ended well.

“Nanami-kun is acceptable,” his mother said. “A bit too… heavy with his affection, but acceptable. It’s nice to see someone passionate about their work.”

“He’s naive,” his father sniffed, “or pretending to be.” He stood with a grunt and began to walk out of the room. “Make sure Mai-san finishes a draft of your prenuptials and sends them over to Noritoshi-san.” He turned his head over his shoulder towards Ryoumen. “Consider Itadori-kun hired. Bring him over to sign his paperwork on Monday.”

“Glad to hear it, sir.” Ryoumen’s grin spread wide across his face in a much more shit-eating way than usual. He jumped up and knocked his leg into Satoru’s knees as he sped past, yelling for Itadori as he jogged to the kitchen.

“I’ll contact a wedding planner and send you their information by Friday,” his mother said to Yuuta. “Let me know when Satoru and Nanami-kun are available to meet with us. We will go over wedding colors, flower arrangements, and invitation lists, along with anything else deemed needing to be discussed.”

Satoru’s brain screeched to a halt with the flood of instructions she was spouting to Yuuta. “Wait, already? You don’t want to get to know him first?”

His mother raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, a go-to expression of condescension of hers. Familiar sickening shame crawled back into his throat. “He has an acceptable job, he is handsome, and he does not seem to be malicious. What else is there to know?”

Having dismissed Satoru, she stood and began to walk away. “We will invite him to gatherings so he can be better acquainted with us and our associates, but there’s no point wasting time. My goal is to get you two married six months from now at the latest.”

Every click of his mother’s heels stabbed into his ringing ears.

Satoru willed back every tear of frustration.

Chapter Text

Kento thought the walk over to the kitchen would be one of the longest in his life. He thought it would be filled with furtive glances from Itadori-kun, not knowing how to broach the topic of Kento’s lies.

To his surprise, Itadori-kun didn’t bring up the lies he just heard; All he wanted to ask about were the recipes he was working on for the bakery.

“Are you ever going to make those, uh, what were they again?” He snapped his fingers frantically. His eyes squinted into little slits, and deep-set dimples popped onto his face as he puffed his cheeks and scrunched his face. “It was, like, an apple pie but not an apple pie. Junpei called it something else.”

“Apple tarts?”

Itadori-kun’s entire face brightened and his back almost bowed backward as he whipped his entire body to face him. “Yeah, that! I really liked those.”

The walk to the kitchen did wonders to calm down Kento’s trembling limbs and beating heart, though he believed he could attribute all of that to Itadori-kun’s endlessly bright demeanor. He found himself wishing again that he would visit Yoshino-kun in the store more often.

His lips turned up in a small smile, the first genuine one since the morning began. “They weren’t popular, so most likely not.”

A loud and theatrical gasp left Itadori-kun, his face drawn down into a mask of horror. “No way . You’re lying.”

“There’s a reason why Yoshino-kun was able to bring two whole intact tarts with him home the day I made them.”

“That’s insane. People are insane. There’s no justice in the world.”

Kento chuckled as Itadori-kun faced forward again, though they died just as fast as they came when he paid attention to his surroundings. The ceilings in the hallway were massive and seemed to almost blend seamlessly with the walls. The very top of them were curved and smooth, only breaking apart with the geometric patterns carved into them. They were stark white, as if they had never seen a speck of dirt in their entire existence, with the decorative cracks painted a vibrant gold. Every sound bounced off of them, amplifying the clacks of the heels of his and Itadori-kun’s dress shoes to near deafening levels now that Itadori-kun was silent.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Itadori-kun was here. He was fine. There was literally nothing to be worried about.

Gojo’s parents were behind them.

They stepped through an archway made of reddish-brown wood and Kento found himself in the most beautiful kitchen he had ever seen. The stark white and gold of the hallway was nowhere to be found, replaced with a soft cream. Cabinets and drawers made of the same reddish-brown wood of the archway stood out against the walls and matched the same wooden accents around the molding connecting the walls to the stone tiled floors. Every horizontal surface was taken up by steel gray granite with lines and spots of dark green and black spattered throughout. They matched the two ranges he could see against the far wall on his right.

“Fancy, right?”

Kento tensed every muscle in his body to stop himself from jumping. He could feel heat try to push onto his face as he realized he forgot Itadori-kun was here. He was too old to act like a starstruck child.

“Seems a bit too much to me, though,” Itadori-kun said as he strided towards the stainless steel sink off center of the island in front of the ranges. He turned towards the ranges and rummaged through some of the cabinets, pulling out two large glasses. He spun on his heel back to the sink and filled them with water. “Like they’re trying too hard to show how rich they are.”

He shook off the last tendrils of embarrassment and joined Itadori-kun at the island. “I would be careful what you say about your potential employers when in their home.”

Itadori-kun’s face twitched with a wince. “You’re right. Especially since Suku-nii is trying so hard to get me this job.”

“Why is he trying to get you a job you don’t want?” Kento winced and his fists clenched at his sides. He never pried, always making a point to respect people’s privacy, but the words escaped before he could bite them back. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“Hey hey, no worries about it,” Itadori-kun chuckled. He rubbed the back of his head and darted his eyes towards the kitchen entrance before he leaned towards Kento and whispered, “If I promise not to tell anyone about whatever it is you’re doing, will you promise not to tell Junpei about what I’m gonna say?”

His lips turned up in the same small smile from before. It was difficult not to smile around him, Kento realized. “I promise.”

Immediately Itadori-kun pulled back, a blinding grin on his face.

“I want to propose to Junpei and Megumi!”

Kento felt his smile grow wider, a feeling of warm fondness spreading throughout his face. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” he practically sang. “I know I can’t actually marry two people at once, but… I don’t know… even if I can’t legally, I still want to call them my husbands.” The lightness on his face fell just the slightest. It instantly put Kento on edge, like he wanted to find a way to protect him from whatever caused his distress. He would probably be more unnerved by how quickly he’d become attached to the boy if he was in a better head space. “But I can’t really afford one ring working in a warehouse, let alone two , especially since Junpei started trying to save to go to university.” He leaned on the island countertop, no longer looking at Kento. “I want to make sure I can cover the bills so they both don’t have to work and go to school at the same time.”

“And so you went to your brother.”

“And so I went to my brother,” he nodded. “I knew there was no way a great job would hire me without knowing someone that worked there first, so when Suku-nii told me about his promotion, I asked.” Itadori-kun straightened up and turned to Kento again. “I just hope his efforts weren’t wast-”

“Yuuji!”

They turned towards the kitchen entrance. Ryoumen jogged towards Itadori-kun, a wide and tooth-filled grin splitting his face. He slammed a large hand onto Itadori-kun’s shoulder and Kento winced at how deafening the slap was. “You got the job! I’ll pick you up Monday to sign the papers.”

Itadori-kun grinned, shrugged off Ryoumen’s hand, and threw his arms around his brother’s shoulders. “Thank you so much!”

Ryoumen patted his brother’s back gently in return. His eyes lifted up to meet Kento’s, his grin disappearing immediately, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. Every ounce of warmth in his body left, leaving behind an emptiness that his paranoia was only too eager to fill.

Slowly, Kento slid one of his hands behind his back. Middle, one, two, three, four. From everything Okkotsu told him, and from the meeting earlier, he knew that Ryoumen was someone that would do everything he could to find signs of vulnerability.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

He pulled back from Itadori-kun, a smile plastered quickly onto his face before his younger brother could notice anything. “Head to the car, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Despite his best efforts, Itadori-kun frowned and looked at Kento behind him then back to his brother. “Something wrong?”

“Nah, just wanted to get Nanami-san’s opinion on something.”

“Suku-”

“Just go, Yuuji. It’ll be fine.”

He bit his lip. They stared at each other, each second thrumming the paranoia in Kento up until he felt himself begin to sweat.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

Index, one, two, three, four.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Eventually, Itadori-kun gave in. He walked to the entrance and sent Kento a wave goodbye before disappearing through the archway.

And leaving Kento to the mercy of Ryoumen.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

He was fine. He was fine. Nothing would happen. He was in control.

“How do you know my kid brother?”

Kento forced his throat to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth. “As I said, his partner is one of my employees at my firm.”

“The real reason,” Ryoumen snarled. The intensity of his snarl knocked the breath from his chest. He began to pant through his nose, desperately trying to keep it quiet. “Last I spoke to him, Junpei still worked at some bakery somewhere.” His deep red eyes seemed to almost glow with fury. “What, you think I never talk to my brother’s fucking partners?”

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

He needed to talk.

Index, one, two, three, four.

His throat wouldn’t open.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Talk. Anything. Just something.

“Junpei-” he choked out, “he-he works at my bakery.”

“I fucking knew it.” Ryoumen threw his head back in a cruel chuckle. Kento felt his spine start to bow forward from the sour shame weakening his muscles. “I knew that brat wouldn’t be able to land an actual boyfriend.”

“How do you kn-”

“Please, as if he would willingly date a goddamn baker . The kid’s only ever had eyes for that Getou brat, and he’s not enough of a fuck up to genuinely stoop this low.” Ryoumen stalked closer to him. “How much he pay you?”

Heat radiated from Kento’s face, and his spine finally lost the battle to shame, curling him in towards himself. His mind buzzed with the echoes of Ryoumen’s laughter. He wanted to defend himself, wanted to at least try to make a show of defending Gojo’s honor, but all he could hear was his laughter and the muted clicks of Ryoumen’s dress shoes on the stone tile.

He lost. There was nothing he could do about that. He failed, and now Gojo would take his bakery, take his parents’ gift to him.

Yu would be completely at his parents’ mercy. At the Gojos’ mercy when word got out.

“Relax, I’m not gonna snitch.”

Confusion whirled in Kento’s mind. His brows pinched together as he regarded Ryoumen with suspicion. “Why?”

Ryoumen laughed, boisterous yet… amicable? “‘Cause I respect your game.” He leveled his gaze at Kento. “I respect that you’re doing everything you can to take what you need in life from leeches like him.”

Kento’s mind stopped. He understood what Ryoumen said, but his brain couldn’t find a way to connect his words to any relevant context. “I don’t understand.”

“No need to play dumb,” Ryoumen said as he spun to make his way to the kitchen entrance. “Just remember: You’re disposable, no matter what anyone says. Never forget that even for a second.”

Then he left. The heels of his dress shoes rattled off the walls of the hallway beyond, fading until they left with a resounding click of the front entrance.

And left Kento feeling emptier than he thought possible.

Chapter Text

“So, in reality, I’ve always been heavily invested in the manufacturing of zippers. It’s something I’ve always found fascinating, and I want to ensure our mutual success. I would love to be one of the first ones in the door when you make your company public.”

A tinny sigh came through his computer speakers. The polite smile on Satoru’s face did not waver, too hardened from years of doubts and condescension from his shareholders and investors.

He refused to let their feelings of superiority show wear and tear, refused to acknowledge the sickening feeling desperate, thinly veiled begging always left him.

“Gojo-kun, I appreciate your effort and hard work,” Hayasaka began, causing Satoru’s already fluttering stomach to drop into the floor, “but I cannot disrespect your father like that. I would be nothing without him. I sincerely hope you understand.”

Before Satoru could begin to argue, the video disappeared, leaving only the Zoom menu.

“ Fuck! ” erupted out of him, like a volcano dormant for centuries. He chucked his pen at the wall to his left, the sounds of it shattering to pieces not even registering past the blood rushing in his ears.

Six months. Six fucking months, and then he would be married.

He needed some way, any way, to get the shareholders on his side. He needed them to push back against any attempt his father would make to replace him as CEO.

Even if he had to give up every shred of dignity and pride he’s built up over the years, he would do it in a heartbeat.

He couldn’t get married.

He knew, in some distant and primal part of his hind brain, that he just couldn’t. Every time he thought about it his ribs felt like knives trying to pierce through his skin.

Divorce was an option. He could get divorced from Nanami whenever he wanted.

But all he saw was long black hair, dark brown eyes, thin familiar lips forming broken promises-

One of the thick doors to his office opened, and he looked up to find Yuuta’s dark blue eyes gazing at him with a worry that made him feel worse. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Satoru stared at his desk and hoped the nausea of Yuuta’s worry would fade. “Hayasaka won’t fucking budge even an inch from my father’s side,” he barked. “How the fuck does that asshole wrap them all around his finger? I don’t get it.”

His harsh panting was the only sound in the room. He still couldn’t bear to look at Yuuta, but felt the weight of his gaze all the same. Every bit of judgment within his cousin stacked on top of each other until he felt his back bough beneath the weight. Echoes of his mother scolding him for hunching his back blared and he hated how his spine immediately obeyed her memory. He kept his eyes on his desk in the flimsiest act of defiance.

Yuuta’s dress shoes clicked against the sturdy hardwood floor, moving closer until he stopped in front of his desk. For seconds he just stood near him, his stare still boring into the back of his head.

Satoru almost snapped at him to speak before Yuuta murmured, “I know this is a bad time, but your mother called.”

A groan of anguish escaped his throat. Pressure and pain began to build behind his eyes. “What did she want?”

“She’s going on a trip to Hong Kong and she wants you and Nanami-san to join her.”

The pressure and pain grew exponentially. “When?”

“Next month, on the 15th.”

As if his body decided to give up altogether, he collapsed on his desk, just barely moving his arm in time to stop his throbbing forehead from smashing onto the polished hardwood. His groan elongated and grew louder until it filled every crevice of his office.

A small part of his mind remembered that he was almost thirty, but it was drowned out by the dread of spending a flight with his mother and Nanami. Being forced to pretend to be in love with that asshole while under a microscope in an enclosed space was a torture he never expected to be put through in his life. He wondered if just getting married off to some old man that wouldn’t look twice at him would be less painful.

“I think you should spend more time with Nanami-san before the trip.”

Satoru’s mind crashed into a wall, reeling until it finally gathered itself enough to process Yuuta’s words. His head throbbed in agony. He lifted himself up just enough to pull open one of the drawers on his desk, grab Ibuprofen, and swallow two pills. Only then did he have enough of a grounding to look at Yuuta. “Why do you want to hurt me?”

His horrible and sadistic cousin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I understand why you hate him. I would hate the guy that punched me in the face too, but you have to stop treating him like the enemy here.”

“Where is this peace and love shit coming from?”

“From me being tired of you acting like a child!” Yuuta snapped. Satoru stared, watching red flood his cousin’s dark face, something he had only seen once before. “Nanami-san is trying to make up for his actions, and all you do is berate him and push at him! You need him to do all of this acting for you, but it’s like you want this plan to fail!”

Sparks of rage began to pop in his chest. “Why would I want this to fail when this was my idea ?!”

“ You tell me ! If you wanted this to succeed you would at least get to know him!”

He stood from his chair. The leather back thudded against the wall behind him. “I know enough-”

“Enough to fool your mother?”

A scoff left his mouth. “I can handle her.”

“If that was true we wouldn’t be here.”

It was true. Satoru knew it was true. But his throat wouldn’t allow him to acknowledge it, so he settled with meeting Yuuta’s glare with his own. They stood there, panting at each other, tense anger dragging against their veins and nerves.

Eventually, Yuuta sighed and walked briskly to the office door. He yanked it open and took a step before turning back to him. Riled up anger was still present in his dark blue eyes, but he could see it mixed with something he couldn’t understand.

It made him ill regardless.

“I love you, Satoru.”

And then he walked out the door, as if he didn’t just cause his lungs to collapse from across the room.

He stumbled back onto his chair. His headache was gone, but his brain still felt muddled regardless. A tremor wracked through his body before long, accompanied by tears slipping through his eyes. He could feel a sob try to work its way out of his throat, but he caught it before it could do more damage to his pride.

Reduced to a sobbing mess from three words. Fucking pathetic.

Was that why Suguru left? Was he too pitiful to consider a future with?

He slapped his hands against his cheeks and scrubbed at his eyes. He was almost thirty. He needed to get over this bullshit. All he had to do was grow a spine and think of how he can win over the top shareholders. Wallowing was something he could save for when he had time.

He grabbed his mouse and jiggled it to bring his computer back to life. He pulled his calendar open and found a spot next week when he could meet with another shareholder. His mind went through the names of the top owners, trying to think of one that wouldn’t be a raging asshole when asked for a meeting on short notice. Yaga would put up a token effort, but he was the biggest pushover that he knew. Despite that, his cooperation was never a guarantee since he tended to side with his father’s unwavering practicality.

Satoru pulled up his email, sent a short message to Yuuta telling him to set up a meeting next week with Yaga. His fingers felt like they were being electrocuted the whole time, his body still too wired over their argument. He sat back in his chair, kicked his shoes off, and pulled his legs onto the chair, curling over them.

His phone was an uncomfortable weight in his pocket. It felt like it was yelling at him that Yuuta was right, that he should spend time with Nanami so that they can stand a better chance against his parents.

Fuck that.

I love you, Satoru.

He ground his teeth against each other.

I love you, Satoru.

“Fuck you,” he growled as he ripped his phone out of his pocket. He quickly scrolled through his contacts until he landed on “Dipshit”, aggressively typed “when are you available” and sent it. He chucked his phone across his desk and curled back around his legs.

“Fuck you…”

Chapter Text

Darkness had long since arrived by the time Yoshino-kun left the bakery and Kento began to close. Fatigue weighed his eyelids, but he kept glancing at the clock to remind himself it wasn’t even 7:30 in the evening. The routine of getting used to shorter days was a familiar one, though one he always viewed with annoyance.

The fact that Gojo was coming to the bakery just made the fatigue and annoyance worse.

Before he could stop it, the promise of being forced to spend a trip with Gojo’s family in the near future loomed over him and dragged his mood down further. Despite everything Gojo had done to him, he genuinely wanted to try to make this arrangement work, both for Yu and, begrudgingly, for Gojo as well.

He remembered his parents, beautiful in their age but woven together with intense coldness. The open contempt they regarded their son boiled his blood with anxiety and anger, and he remembered how hard he bit his cheek to keep his veneer calm. Gojo was an asshole with a more than incidental childish streak, but he couldn’t ever tolerate parents mistreating their children.

Index, one, two, three, four. 

Gojo would be out front soon; Meeting him pissed would just create an uncomfortable combative energy.

His closing routine blurred past him, so familiar that his mind clocked out almost immediately. Doughs and baked goods were sealed and dated, the temperature of his fridge and freezer checked, all countertops were wiped down twice, all dishes and equipment washed four times, the fridge pushed closed four times, the sink tap pushed off twelve times. His muscles were well accustomed to what his brain wanted to deem his shop safe.

The fatigue that haunted him all day lifted itself just a little. Kento glanced outside and saw that a sleek black car was idled in front of his shop. The windows were tinted, but he knew Gojo was inside.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

He grabbed his tan jacket and left the shop, turning briefly to lock it. He pushed and pulled against the door four times, satisfied that his store was safe, then turned to knock on the window of the car. A thunk went into the air seconds later to let him know the door was unlocked, and he pulled it open to find Gojo in the driver’s seat.

His eyebrows shot up. “Ijichi-kun won’t be joining us?”

“He knows too much already,” Gojo drawled. He could see exhaustion etched into the side of his face. “Thought privacy’d be best when getting to know each other.”

Questions swarmed his thoughts on what Gojo wanted, but he bit his lip. He closed the rear passenger door and sat in the front passenger seat without saying another word.

“What would you like to know?”

Slowly the car moved back onto the road. Gojo tapped his fingers against the steering wheel incessantly, only pausing when he needed to turn or make an adjustment. He wanted to ask where they were driving to, anxiety and irritation clawing at his legs and making one of them shake.

“Why are you a baker?”

Kento’s eyebrows shot up. His leg ceased shaking. “Because I like to bake.”

“No fucking duh, but it’s weird that you do.” Gojo glanced quickly at him as they stopped at a red light. “Bakers are usually warm and nurturing, and you’re. Well, you.”

A puff of laughter escaped him. He turned to stare out the window, watching gray buildings and colorful shop windows pass by. “I enjoy baking because I grew up doing it. My parents owned the bakery since before I was born.”

“So, it’s really just a force of habit.”

He turned his head to face Gojo again. “Why do you own a fashion company?”

“Because I like looking good.”

“Really?” he asked and waited for Gojo to look at him with confusion. “You declined to run your father’s business just to open a fashion company. I doubt you prevented his retirement just because you like looking good.”

“What makes you doubt it?” he scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

He knew taking the bait would do nothing. He knew. But for reasons beyond him, he just could not stop his mouth from moving whenever Gojo was around.

Shut up.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

“You can’t just talk shit and not back it up.”

There’s no point fighting.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

“And now you’re giving me the silent treatment. When I literally did all of this to get to know you better.”

Don’t let him-

“God, I didn’t expect you to be such a pussy .”

“Because you’re fucking spoiled brat that doesn’t know how to take no for an answer! You’re paying me ¥5,680,084 a month just so you can push away every marriage candidate they send you! You made me sign an NDA just so you can get away with it! It’s not hard to see through your whole douchebag persona and see the sad little boy having a tantrum underneath.”

Silence. Silence so thick he choked on it. Kento had never wished for a car crash more than at that moment.

His elbow knocked against the center console, his seat belt dug into his chest as the car stopped suddenly.

“First of all,” he heard Gojo say, his voice dripping with barely contained anger, “it’s rich of you to judge me for doing basically the same shit your buddy Haibara is doing. Did you forget how we fucking met, you fucking dipshit?”

He felt his face grimace as embarrassment curdled in his stomach.

“And two, I was joking around. At least, I was trying to. You need to learn what a joke is.”

Kento didn’t understand what was funny about anything he said, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Sweat began to leak down his burning face and his heart threatened to leave him forever. His chest squeezed itself until he was forced to hold his stagnant breath inside his lung.

This was it.

Index, one, two, three, four.

He fucked up.

Middle, one, two, three, four.

Completely fucked everything.

Ring, one, two, three, four.

The bakery.

Pinky, one, two, three, four.

His parents.

Yuu.

He ruined everything.

Nothing worked. His fingertips buzzed beyond his control. He couldn’t feel anything. He needed to get out. He needed to get home. He needed to check everything in the kitchen, make sure it was all okay, made sure he didn’t ruin that too, he-

“-ami! Breathe! What’s wrong with you, just breathe!”

His hand shot up to his chest as his lungs jump-started. Gulps of air were all he could take, and it made the sour stone of embarrassment in his stomach even worse. Slowly, his breaths calmed, as close to normal as he would get when he didn’t have the privacy needed to recover.

“Jesus, man, you acted like I had a gun pointed at you. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he choked out. He knew Gojo knew something was wrong; It was impossible to interact with him so often without sensing something wasn’t right. That didn’t mean he needed to face the shame of confirming it out loud.

Silence settled in the car once more, though Kento welcomed the space it put between them this time. He pressed his overheated face against the autumn chilled window and stared outside. He didn’t recognize where they were. In front of him was what appeared to be a closed cafe, small with just a lone light shining from the back where the kitchen stood.

“Suguru was my first and only boyfriend.”

Every muscle in his back tensed. His forehead pushed harder against the window. Where Gojo was going with this, he didn’t know, but he knew it wouldn’t end well for him.

He heard a heavy sigh behind him, dragged further by a bone deep exhaustion Kento never would have expected from him. “We started dating when we were fourteen, then he broke up with me out of nowhere.” Kento felt the car start moving again, Gojo’s fingers tapping the wheel again, though they sounded arrhythmic.

The embarrassment in his stomach swirled and twisted until it was wrapped in sympathy. He remembered all the times Yu experienced heartbreak, how he was there for him until the aches waned, but he couldn’t bring himself to do any sort of supportive gesture for Gojo. Would he even appreciate sympathy? The fact that he kept the details of his breakup tight lipped made him think not, but what did he know anymore?

All he knew was that he wouldn’t be the same if Yu ripped himself from his life forever.

Tears welled up at the thought. He lifted a shaking hand to his face to remove them as subtly as possible.

“What drew you to fashion?” he finally croaked out.

Gojo let out a watery laugh.