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No one really knows what Geto-sensei and Gojo-sensei’s whole thing is. Some people insist they hate each other but others have remarked that they spend a lot of time together for two people that hate each other.
Yuuta doesn’t really have an opinion considering he just got here.
It’s the second week back in school and it's… hard. It’s strange being back after a year, like nothing happened, like nothing changed, but here he is. He was worried, when he came back. That first year in high school had been amazing, the beginning of getting his life back. It had been a reprieve of a mind that haunted and tricked him, that tormented and ruined him. It was incredible to talk to people again, to participate in class, to raise his hand and he could- he could raise his hand. He could focus enough to hear the questions and then think of a response and then wait to be called on.
But he didn’t suddenly get better over night. It was days and nights of agony of seeing things that weren’t there of fear that clenched and choked him. Hallucinations, delusions, fixations that filled his head and didn’t leave. It was trying to convince professionals that he wasn’t crazy even when he was, but not about the things they thought. His first year back in school was more of breaking free but the second year they pulled him out, put him alternative schooling so he could catch up, rest, heal from the trauma of drugging up a kid who had a psychotic break and let him recover (while still managing the psychosis and associated symptoms). So now he’s back with a med regime, coping strategies, a service dog, and a smile because schizoaffective disorder and whatever his mind has to throw at him is not going to kill him. It won’t fucking kill him. He won't let it.
He gets to see his friends again, and the first thing they ask him to do is join him in their after school club. They’d facetimed and called and he had them over in the past year, but it’s different to get to sit next to them in classes again, to see them in the halls, eat lunch together.
He goes to the club. It was never a question.
Itadori Yuji. They/he. Type 1 diabetes, ADHD, and dyslexia.
Kugisaki Nobara. She/her. Dwarfism- Achondroplasia.
Fushiguro Megumi. He/him. Epilepsy and anxiety.
Maki (she/her- intellectual disability). Toge (he/him- Autism, nonverbal). Panda (he/him- MCAS and does vitiligo count?).
And him.
He breathes, and works his tongue and mouth like he has practiced in speech therapy.
“I am…” he starts, and he speaks slower than anyone else. Toge takes time to use his AAC, but once he’s pressed it to speak, it's much faster than Yuuta and his words. It’s a med combo thing, they think. His thoughts are clearer now, clearer than they ever had been since his psychotic break. But they are slower now and his words follow, “Okkotsu Yuuta. He, he/him… I have schizoaffective disorder and C-PTSD- Complex Post Traumatic Disorder. This is my service dog, Rika.”
The students who didn’t know him before hand stare a little, but their gazes are not one of shock, or pity, or disgust. They are filled with understanding, with almost a greedy attachment of ‘you get what we have been through.’ Yeah. Yeah Yuuta fucking gets it. Hard not to when he was drugged out of his mind just to keep him ‘safe’ until a year ago. It was a year ago when someone finally thought something was wrong with that decision and Yuuta got to come back to himself. They only found a med regime that made him still feel alive but be safe in his body half a year ago.
Geto-sensei (he/they, Cerebral Palsy and Traumatic Brain Injury) and Gojo-sensei (he/they- albinism, associated blindness, hearing loss, etcetera) introduce themselves last. Yuuta isn’t in any of their classes this year, but he had Gojo-sensei his first year. He wonders if Gojo-sensei remembers him. He had been one of the first to raise concern in IEP meetings and when he was firmly told it wasn’t his place, he had pushed further. He had eventually been boxed out of meetings, so Yuuta doesn’t know if Gojo-sensei knows he was the one that saved his life. He got the right people asking the right question if the right things were happening to Yuuta.
The answer was no. Drugging a kid out of their mind is almost never the right choice.
He can’t help but watch Gojo-sensei, watch the man who saved his life and probably doesn’t even know it.
Geto-sensei catches him looking, and then trying not to look, and then looking. He frowns a little and Yuuta feels bad so he tries to look even less. It’s frustrating because then he starts to get suspicious of Geto-sensei, questioning why he cares, why he’s watching Yuuta, even though Yuuta knows he started all of this.
Rika presses her head on his leg when his breath catches, and he gives her some gentle pets.
It’s later, after the first meeting that he missed most of because he’s fixated on Gojo-sensei, that Geto-sensei comes up to him.
“Uh, hi?” he offers while most of the students are dispersing even as Geto-sensei rolls up right next to him.
“Can we check in outside for a moment?” he asks.
Yuuta freezes, but nods. Geto-sensei offers a smile, and waits by the door.
It takes Yuuta a little while- getting up. He still has trouble processing stuff sometimes. They’re not sure if it’s effects from old meds, current meds, a schizoaffective thing, or a trauma thing. It doesn’t matter. It’s still the clearest he’s felt in years. Yuuta will take it in a heartbeat.
Geto-sensei exits first, holds the door for him. Yuuta gives him a nod, but it’s shaky and he’s not sure it gets across.
“What’s up?” he asks when they’ve moved outside. Geto-sensei hums, and waits. The last of the students leave.
Toge looks over at him, tilts his head and rocks back and forth.
“Takana?” he asks verbally, and Yuuta gives him a nod, a smile, and a thumbs up.
He nods, leaves, AAC at his side. Toge and him had been in some of the same speech sessions last year. It had been frustrating at first. Toge was so familiar with his AAC and Yuuta was learning how to talk again, express himself. Yuuta had wanted that, had wanted the communication Toge had. He knows Toge wants the same, when he looks at others.
“You were looking quite a bit at Gojo-sensei,” Geto-sensei remarks, “Was something wrong?”
“Oh,” Yuuta stutters, and he feels awful, “No I- nothing.”
Geto-sensei frowns at him, and leans a little. His hands sit in his lap and he doesn’t crowd Yuuta, just gets a little closer.
“Did he make you uncomfortable in some way? Say something to you?”
“No!” Yuuta’s eyes widen, “No, he was… he was fine. He uh, he uh, he uh all good!”
Geto-sensei relaxes and Yuuta worries a bit. Had Geto-sensei thought Gojo-sensei had done something to offend him? Yuuta’s already heard that they have a weird relationship, does Geto-sensei not trust Gojo-sensei? Why doesn’t he trust Gojo-sensei? Gojo-sensei is so good, what does that say about Geto-sensei? His mind races, coming up with plans and realities that cannot be accurate and is hard to shutter down.
He definitely knows that Geto-sensei is not someone he can trust, if he doesn’t trust Gojo-sensei. Gojo-sensei saved Yuuta’s life.
He thinks it’s worth explaining a bit more.
“I uh, it’s my fault,” he insists, because he doesn't want Geto-sensei to be mad at Gojo-sensei when he didn’t do anything. He doesn’t want to make what’s already occurring worse. “Um, my, I have. Uh. Two years ago, he really helped me out. This is- I haven’t seen him in a year.”
Geto-sensei watches him, studies him for a minute and Yuuta tenses. It’s hard not to assume something is wrong, that Geto-sensei has a plan. Maybe he’s conspiring with someone. Maybe he’s been sent here to take Yuuta back, to drug him, put him under. He probably is, Yuuta realizes, horrified.
Rika pushes at his thigh. His hand falls to her head automatically, and her fur grounds him.
“Oh,” Geto-sensei breathes, and that doesn’t sound like the ‘oh’ of someone who is going to kidnap and drug Yuuta. Maybe that’s not what’s happening. Yuuta thinks he understands. Or maybe Yuuta hopes that he understands. He really does, because it’s hard to explain. He doesn’t want to be drugged again.
“I see,” Geto-sensei says, “Gojo-sensei can be pretty supportive.”
Okay, okay so Geto-sensei doesn’t hate Gojo-sensei. Which means that he’s not here to kidnap Yuuta and he’s probably a safe person. That’s a relief.
“Yeah, he can,” Yuuta agrees. He doesn’t explain how, or why, because that’s not for Geto-sensei to have.
“Well, if you wanted to talk to him, I’m sure he’d love to hear from you again,” Geto-sensei encourages, and then leaves him be.
It’s a weird conversation, from him blaming Gojo-sensei for making him uncomfortable to insisting that Gojo-sensei is supportive and open to being discussed with. He doesn’t quite understand, but maybe he’s not supposed to.
He thinks about what people have said about the two of them, how they interact with one another.
Yeah. They really do have a weird relationship.
Disability and Sexuality is the most recent topic of the week. Nobara smirks as they recommend it and Yuuji goes bright red. She doesn’t even say anything but she knows, she knows and she’s fucking making it worse but not even calling them out on his mega gay crush on Megumi. Yuuji tries to ignore her. Instead, they focus on planning a good meeting.
And it is a good meeting! It’s just also a little depressing.
It’s not easy dating and being disabled and Yuuji knows this, he knows, but he hadn’t exactly expected everyone in their entire group to have never gone on a date, never kissed someone. They’re all a little embarrassed and a little unsure how to navigate this conversation because none of them have any sort of experience with this.
Toge explains he’s aroace, and Yuuta’s also aspec and maybe Megumi but they all want to have relationships of some kind, of some queerness and all of them… None of them know anything. Yuuji kinda wishes this meeting never happened and they could erase the awkward hormone teenage sexual awkwardness from existence.
“I didn’t start dating until I was in university,” Gojo-sensei admits, and they all sort of relax. It’s like everyone inhales and exhales in tandem. Suddenly the pressure to date seems much less pressing when their teacher themself is telling them they didn’t start dating until university.
“It’s totally natural, especially when you’re queer and disabled. And I didn’t get it right immediately. It took me a while to get with my husband.”
Everyone’s already focused on Gojo-sensei but the intensity of the stares increase tenfold. And Geto-sensei who was looking down at their hands, jerks their head up, nostrils flaring as they stare at Gojo-sensei as well.
Yuuji’s surprised by the answer himself but more interested in Geto-sensei’s reaction. Geto-sensei is interesting like that. They front a calm, collected personality but in reality they have these quick, hair trigger reactions that race through before they can school themself. They’ve mentioned before that their TBI has affected their relationship with emotional regulation and Yuuji wonders if this is part of that. Because of this knowledge, he expects to see Geto-sensei school themself quickly but they don’t, still staring at Gojo-sensei opening, fingers twitching. They frown, half their mouth tilted down.
If Yuuji had to pinpoint it he’d say Geto-sensei was… perhaps upset? But focused at the same time.
He knows Geto-sensei and Gojo-sensei have a weird relationship, everyone does. He hadn’t even known they knew each other until the previous year. Yuuji’s pretty sure neither of them know this but Yuuji had heard Geto-sensei’s comment the first time all of them met, how desperate they seemed to not work with Gojo-sensei. Yuuji had thought they would back out but they haven’t, but there’s always been something between them. Yuuji just thought it was best to ignore it. It’s certainly not his business.
So maybe this has to do with that history somehow? Though Yuuji doesn’t see how it connects, Geto-sensei disliking that Gojo-sensei is married.
And wait, Gojo-sensei is married!
“Really?” Yuuji breathes out, “You’re married?”
“Yup,” Gojo-sensei assures, blinding smile as they mention their husband. They twist a ring on their hand that Yuuji has never noticed. It’s a dark gray, with some sort of engraved pattern.
The entire group chatters quickly and starts pestering Gojo-sensei with questions.
What’s it like? What’s dating like when being disabled? Does your husband understand your experiences? Do you face ableism? How were you able to get married even without marriage equality and the barriers to stopping disabled people getting married. How does it work?
“We met when we were in high school,” Gojo-sensei admits, “But we grew apart and didn’t start dating until university. He’s also disabled, so while he doesn’t understand my specific experience with disability, he understands the universal experience of being disabled in a world meant for those who are able-bodied. We were both fortunate to be employed and have family reliance, making it realistic for us to get married. It would have been much harder otherwise. There’s still ableism we face every day, as do you all, but it’s better, easier with a partner, especially a partner who understands so intimately.”
“Tell us more about him?” Nobara begs, and all of them lean forward, invested.
Gojo-sensei laughs, teases them that maybe they won’t share anything, keeping them completely enraptured. They look over at Geto-sensei with a smirk and Geto-sensei says nothing, just grits their teeth and stares ahead.
So Gojo-sensei tells them more. They speak of them fondly, but talks of someone who disagrees with them often, who is their opposite in the best and worst ways.
“He sounds like a jerk,” Geto-sensei after a while, and a tenseness falls over the students. They quickly go to defend their sensei because really, how rude of Geto-sensei to say something like-
Gojo-sensei laughs, loud, bright, filling the space.
“He is,” Gojo-sensei agrees, “and I love him for it.”
They pause, and turns their gaze back to Geto-sensei, “What about you Geto, do you have a partner?”
Geto-sensei pauses, stares, and then sighs. Yuuji watches their shoulders relax, their teeth unclench and that might even be- is Geto-sensei smiling?
“I do,” they admit, “they’re incredibly irritating.”
Gojo-sensei laughs again, and all the students turn to Geto-sensei, pestering them with the same questions. They shake their head gently, and redirect them, refusing their questions unlike Gojo-sensei. The students grumble but accept and Gojo-sensei snickers again. Megumi rolls his eyes from next to him and Yuuji feels like he’s missing something.
He wonders if Gojo-sensei and Geto-sensei know each other's spouses. Maybe that would explain how strange they are around each other.
Nobara wakes up to the email. It’s from Geto-sensei, informing them that Gojo-sensei won’t be in today, but he has the keys to his room and club can still be held. Nobara replies quickly, shooting off her own email, and then heads down to breakfast, dodging various family members as she makes it to school. She doesn’t bother texting everyone the news because they’re still holding club and it’s still in the same space, but she fills in Maki when they catch each other before school starts, and mentions it to Yuuji and Megumi at lunch so practically everyone knows anyways.
It’s uncommon for Gojo-sensei to miss days, especially club days. Geto-sensei’s the one with the spottier attendance, his flare days keeping him out of commission more frequently. Geto-sensei hadn’t offered much in the email but Nobara assumes if it was something actually bad, like really bad, he would have said so, so Gojo-sensei’s probably fine. Simply sick or having a bad symptom day probably.
She heads over right after classes end, and ends up being the first to arrive at the room. She pushes in, and there's a sub there, packing up their stuff that startles as Nobara enters. The sub stares a little bit, first at Nobara’s face, then her disproportionate body, before blushing, looking away, and then looking back.
“Gojo-sensei isn’t in today,” the sub says, voice a touch too high and a little too sweet, “Sorry.”
“Oh it’s okay,” Nobara dismisses, “I’m here for an after school club. The other supervisor will be here soon.”
“Okay,” the sub hesitates, “But I can’t leave you alone in here.”
Nobara shrugs, “that’s fine, when you leave I’ll follow and wait outside.”
“Okay?” the sub says, and Nobara drops her stuff at one of the seats, and rubs at the base of her back as she rolls her shoulder. Everything feels tight today, like it's compressed together and her backpack is just making it worse. She watches as the sub gathers her things together, and when she turns to leave the room, Nobara gets up as well to follow. They’re met in the doorway by Geto-sensei.
“Oh!” the sub startles, and then moves back quickly to create space for Geto-sensei to get through, almost running into Nobara who takes a few quick steps back. Geto-sensei catches her gaze and she shrugs helplessly. He looks back over at the sub and enters, wheeling past them both and over to Gojo-sensei’s desk, dropping his own stuff down. The sub leaves.
“One second,” he mouths at her, gesturing at his ear, and she realizes he’s on the phone.
“Yep, I’ll be back after this,” he promises to whoever’s on the other line, “You get some rest okay?”
“Mhmm, sounds good.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay. Okay. Rest.”
“I am not saying that,” Geto-sensei refuses firmly, and then he sighs, “Bye.” And then he hangs up the phone, takes the earbud out of his ear, puts it in a case, and slides it into his briefcase.
“Sorry about that,” he sighs.
“Was that your partner?” she asks curiously.
He hesitates, and Nobara wonders if that’s too personal. Gojo-sensei is pretty open about this stuff, but Geto-sensei tends to be the opposite and she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Or not that uncomfortable. Making men in general a little uncomfortable is a personal hobby of hers.
“Yes,” he admits, after a moment, “they’re not feeling well today.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she offers, “I hope they feel better soon.”
He nods at her but she can tell its more out of politeness. She then remembers that Gojo-sensei’s husband is disabled. Maybe Geto-sensei’s partner is too.
“Or just lighter symptom days,” she adds, “If its somehting more along those lines.”
Geto-sensei smiles, and Nobara thinks she got it right. He gives her a nod, a bit more genuine this time.
“Where’s everyones else?” he asks, “The third years usually take a moment but…”
Nobara shrugs. She honestly has no clue, and pulls out her phone to check. There's two texts waiting for her. The oldest is from five minutes ago.
Yuuji: b ther lil late bt son poromise
The newer one is from a minute ago.
Megumi: Yuuji’s trying not to pass out in a hallway right now, we’re going to be a little late.
Nobara sighs.
“The boys are being stupid,” she informs Geto-sensei, and he snorts.
“When are they not,” he replies, and she has to agree. Regardless she sends back a quick ‘need anything?’ but otherwise sets her phone down
She gets a reply to her text just as Toge and Panda enter together.
Megumi: their CGM is being weird and his blood sugar tanked. I’ve got them. He says to start without him if everyone’s there, we’ll probably be a little bit.
Nobara: copy that
As she sends her own reply, Yuuta and Rika arrive, and then Maki soon behind. She gives the boys five minutes, and then starts anyways. Gojo-sensei’s out, Geto-sensei’s partner isn’t feeling well, and Yuuji’s having a medical episode. Something must be in the air today.
Maki’s running late getting home. Or maybe running late isn’t the right word because it’s fully intentional on her part. The later she gets home the later she has to deal with her family and today’s one of the few days she can’t go over to a friend's house. So logically, the longer she stays here at school, the later she’ll get home.
So she sorta just sits in the corner of the class as everyone else leaves, and waits. Gojo-sensei and Geto-sensei always take a little longer. Maybe if she’s lucky a little longer will turn into a lot longer. The teachers shuffle their things together. Or well, Gojo-sensei mostly grabs their things, Geto-sensei already has their stuff packed but they sort of hovers by Gojo-sensei’s desk while they get their things together. It’s a little weird. Maki had thought the two of them didn't really like each other.
Everyone left almost immediately, so it’s just her and her teachers.
Gojo-sensei shuts their computer closed and puts it in their bag.
“I can't believe you don’t use a computer case,” Geto-sensei mutters.
“It has a protected pocket,” Gojo-sensei protests.
Geto-sensei just sighs and shakes their head as Gojo-sensei stuffs a wad of papers into their bag as well. Geto-sensei winces at the disorganization but doesn’t say anything more about it. Instead they just sigh, pressing fingers to the bridge of their nose where it meets their forehead and pinches.
“Am I driving you home?” they ask next and Maki freezes. Did they just ask? Maki thought the two of them didn’t like one another, are they really offering Gojo-sensei a ride?
“Yeah, if that works,” Gojo-sensei, “With that meeting-”
“It’s fine,” Geto-sensei dismisses, “I wouldn’t have said I could if I couldn’t.”
“Aww you love me,” Gojo-sensei teases and Maki almost chokes. It’s bold even for Gojo-sensei and Geto-sensei tends to have a short fuse and is often quick to bark back at Gojo-sensei’s teasing. But Geto-sensei doesn’t rise to the teasing at all, just stares up at Gojo-sensei and replies blandly.
“You wish,” they snort and grab their pushrims, turning away from Gojo-sensei, “Keep it up and I’ll leave without- oh hello Maki.”
Maki gives a weak smile, and then a wave. She can’t help but feel like she’s not supposed to be here for this conversation. It’s because they’re acting like people, she decides, and not like her teachers which is just weird to see and watch. Especially Geto-sensei who’s always so put together and teacher-like. Except, now that she thinks about it, they tend to always lose some of that around Gojo-sensei and in their little club. They seem a little more honest, a little more vulnerable.
“Maki?!” Gojo-sensei splutters, turning in her direction. They have their sunglasses pushed up at the moment so she can see the rapid eye movement of their nystagmus as both her teachers study her.
“Hi,” she says, and again feels like she’s intruding but not exactly sure on what, so she steels herself and throws her shoulders back. She has every right to be here.
“I didn’t know you carpooled,” she offers. Geto-sensei’s eyes darken slightly, but Gojo-sensei brightens.
“We do, sometimes,” Gojo-sensei admits, “They won’t give me a license, no matter how much I beg.” For the safety of every person in a car ever, Maki really hopes that's a joke. “Anyways, who can resist spending more time with me?”
“I could,” Geto-sensei bites.
“Then why carpool?” she retorts, not turned off by Geto-sensei’s perpetual grumpy attitude. They’re probably her favorite teacher actually, not that she’d actually admit it, nor has she actually taken one of their classes. It’s just, they seem so grounded, serious and firm but not mean like a lot of teachers are, especially when met with a student like her. They take her seriously. Not a lot of people do.
“The environment,” Geto-sensei replies flatly and Maki doesn’t get it at first. She doesn’t make the connection, and she knows she’s missing something and that’s perhaps the most frustrating thing about having an intellectual disability, feeling like she’s always right on the outside. But Geto-sensei has known her for a year, and easily accommodates, elaborating, “It’s a joke because that’s a common excuse, but not actually the reason we carpool,” and Maki actually laughs at that, which gets a cracked smile from Geto-sensei.
It’s nice of them to explain just enough so she can get the joke, without making it a big deal. Most people say it ruins jokes but it doesn’t for Maki. Maybe it does for others, but she needs the extra explanation. She appreciates it. Again, she has a favorite for a reason. Not that she’d ever tell them that.
“You didn’t follow everyone else out?” Geto-sensei asks, and she shrugs, shakes her head.
“You’re going to miss your bus,” they comment.
She shrugs again. That’s kind of her point, not that she’ll tell them that. It’ll make it weird because they’ll want to know why and she really doesn’t want to get into her family drama here and now. She doesn’t need to share her sob story. She’s fine.
“They’ll be another one later,” she defends.
“Fair enough,” he comments, “well we’re headed out, and we can’t leave you alone in here.”
She shrugs a third time, nods, and exits right before them.
Gojo-sensei locks the door behind him, fumbling a moment to find their keys in their pockets, and then their bag. Geto-sensei huffs and rolls their eyes, shooting Maki a look. It makes her smile a little, though she refuses to laugh, and she’s glad she chose to stay behind. Even if the staying behind time was so much shorter than she hoped it would be.
They walk the halls together, and the teachers ask her kindly about her days, her classes, and Maki gives them just enough to please them.
They part ways at the building entrance, Gojo and Geto-sensei headed towards the teacher lot while Maki heads towards the buses. She watches them go, watches as Gojo-sensei says something that makes Geto-sensei scowl which makes Gojo-sensei laugh in turn. She thought they- well hated each other is a strong word, but worked together simply because they had to at best. She realizes that maybe they actually look like friends.
Huh. She wouldn’t have guessed.
“What about hiking?” Gojo-sensei asks when Toge enters the room. Strangely, there’s no one here yet. Usually the second years get here first and then the third years, but Toge is the first to arrive. Well of course, besides who the question was directed at.
“Sounds really accessible,” Geto-sensei snorts, leaning back in his wheelchair as he crosses his arms.
“There's accessible trails!” Gojo-sensei protests.
“Hmm,” is Geto-senseis only response. Gojo-sensek scoffs and types something on his computer. The two of them are at Gojo-sensei’s desk, Gojo-sensei actually behind it on his computer while Geto-sensei sits in front on the other side.
Toge quietly makes his way inside and Geto-sensei looks up as the door moves.
“Inumaki-san,” he greets.
“Beach holiday,” Gojo proposes and then offers a, “hello Inumaki.”
“Hello,” he clicks on his preset buttons AAC reading out for him.
“Also super accessible surroundings,” Gojo-sensei replies to Gojo-sensei’s newest suggestion.
“It can be- and don't give me the ‘no it's not’ because nothing is actually truly accessible. And there are some pretty good accessible options out there. There’s that one beach- oh where is it- but it has wheelchair access all the way into the water. You can’t use lack of access as an excuse. If you just want to stay home, just say so,” Gojo-sensei grumbles back.
Toge thinks he might actually be mad, which is strange because as much as Gojo-sensei and Geto-sensei tease each other, Toge has never seen them be truly mad at one another. But just a few seconds later Gojo-sensei is smiling again so it has to be light hearted.
Toge is also very lost by the conversation. Hiking? Beaches? Staying home? He pulls up his AAC and typing his thoughts sounds a little too hard right now so he opens his groups tab and finds a button he doesn't often use.
“Travel?” he asks.
“Yes!” Gojo-sensei agrees, pausing on his computer to turn and struggling to find Inumaki. He narrows down on him soon enough, “I'm trying to plan a vacation, but Geto keeps turning me down, no matter what I suggest. Even after insisting he did want to actually go do something.”
Toge watches, intrigued.
“‘Turning you down,’” Geto-sensei splutters, “maybe I wouldn't turn you down if you were being reasonable about vacation plans. I do want to do something, but something simple is fine for a break. It's only a short break as is.”
Gojo-sensei whines in reply. Toge doesn't quite understand. Why is Gojo-sensei so insistent on what Geto-sensei does for vacation plans anyways? Why does he care about how Geto-sensei spends his time? If Gojo-sensei wants to go do a bunch of adventurous things why doesn't he go. He has a husband, can't he do it with him?
But Toge's having a hard word day and he doesn't know quite how to put that all together. He elects to watch instead.
“Look how pretty some of these trails are,” Gojo-sensei insists, turning the computer his way, so Geto-sensei can see. Toge watches as his teacher hesitates.
“They're paved,” Gojo-sensei insists, “fully accessible, even accessible bathrooms and everything.”
“It's not awful,” Geto-sensei admits, after a grudging moment of silence.
“Ha!” Gojo-sensei cheers, “okay one day down, more to go.”
“We are not planning every day out to-”
“Toge!” Gojo-sensei interrupts, “what are some vacation plans? What do you like to do during vacation?”
Gojo-sensei turns in his swivel chair, facing Toge. Toge searches through his groups again and his teachers wait patiently, giving him the time he needs for his voice. So many people don’t give him the time he needs to use his AAC and it’s one of the most refreshing things about being in this space.
“Video game,” he says, “Home. Eat food.”
“I like those plans,” Geto-sensei agrees.
“You said you wanted to get out and do something,” Gojo-sensei protests, “You said you wanted to do something, and I’m trying to find something to do and then you turn around and say you want to do nothing,” Gojo-sensei blurts out quickly, spinning in his chair to reface Gojo-sensei. The sound and motion startle Toge, making him jump in his seat. Gojo-sensei presses a hand against his chest and Toge's concerned but Geto-sensei isn't doing anything.
“Are you done?” Geto-sensei asks after a moment, and Gojo-sensei clutches his shirt as he sits straight up.
“Here I am, trying to plan an entire nice vacation and you want to stay home.”
He says ‘stay home’ like it's the worst thing Geto-sensei could do and Geto-sensei shrugs and insists that there are worse things to do. At his insistence Gojo-sensei gasps but relents and shifts gears to home activities including baking, and binging series, and playing games. Geto-sensei dryly turns down option after option and suggests his own ‘grade papers’ and ‘catch up on sleep’ that have Gojo-sensei booing.
“Vacation is supposed to be fun,” Gojo-sensei insists, and Geto-sensei insists that is his idea of fun. Which sounds sort of depressing to Toge, really who enjoys grading papers? But hey, it’s not his business. Toge listens to them bicker back and forth for a few more minutes, and their noise only peeters out as other students start to arrive, filling the club space.
It's a few weeks later, when Gojo-sensei tells them about the hike he went on during vacation that he thinks of Gojo-sensei showing Geto-sensei the screen. He wonders briefly if they went together. Do they know each other well enough outside of school to be that close? Toge knows they fight and bicker at school, but they're obviously fond of each other and Toge thinks they might even be friends. Is it a close enough relationship to extend last work and into free time- vacation time?
Probably not. Toge doesn’t think they know each other well enough for that.
This week they’re talking about hard shit. The real hard shit. Megumi actually brought it up, letting them know he’d been hospitalized this week and that’s why he missed two days of class. They all mutter their concerns and Megumi admits he had two back to back tonic-clonics. He doesn't go into detail much which is pretty typical for Megumi but he admits it was rough and that he’s fine now but that hospitals still suck.
“Hospitals suck ass,” Panda says firmly, and they all mutter out their agreements. A few of them with more conviction- with stories to back up their hatred.
“I remember doing allergy testing once,” Panda says, “and it was supposed to be just like the back scratch test and they send you home but I went into anaphylaxis immediately and had to stay a week.
“It was… awful.”
And it was. He remembers the pure terror he felt as he first couldn’t breathe but then even after as his heart thudded and how he spent the next few days continuously throwing up and learning that there were actually different types of anaphylaxis and he was apparently getting to experience practically all of them. He learns terms like ‘non immune anaphylaxis’ and ‘biphasic’ and ‘protracted’ and ‘less than 25% of cases’ and ‘18% of cases’ and then ‘uncommon’ and ‘no specified statistics’ and its scary and big and Panda is 10 years old and trying to understand why his body is doing this. He’s 10 and not in pediatrics because pediatrics doesn’t get cases like these. MCAS isn’t usually diagnosed until adulthood.
His dad, holding his hand throughout the tests and procedures is 47- the average age of diagnosis. But it’s Panda, ten years old, who’s in the hospital bed. He wants to be- wishes to be- anywhere else.
He gets some nods as he talks, and they might all have vastly different experiences but they’ve all had experiences with the medical industry, with hospitals, with being sick. Panda feels at ease here, comfortable talking about how much this sucks because he knows he’ll be met with a level of understanding he gets nowhere else.
A somberness falls over the group and the usual uplifters- Itadori, Toge- do nothing to change it. It’s hard sometimes, a lot of the time, when it comes to being disabled.
“It can be hard,” and Panda startles at Geto-sensei’s voice. They look around at all of them, gaze flickering over each of their forms before moving to the next. “It can be… incredibly hard. I think it’s the isolation, really, that gets to you. Physical or mental, the idea that no one understands what you’re experiencing, the loneliness.”
Panda tries not to stare, but he finds himself staring anyways because in a year and a half of knowing Geto-sensei he’s never heard them share this much, be this vulnerable. Panda honestly wasn’t sure they spoke in anything but short honest sentences or clipped, tight remarks. Geto-sensei prefers to take more of a backseat role, help guide them but truly let the students lead the club.
Everyone seems to be looking at Geto-sensei now, even Gojo-sensei and they seem to realize this, hesitating. They lean back in their wheelchair, adjusts their hair tie.
“I spent a lot of time in the hospital after my TBI,” they tell the group and oh, oh of course they had. Panda wonders how long that stay had been. Had it been a continuous stay? Or was it something mixed, time out and time in. Geto-sensei continues, “It was- well he wasn’t at the time- but my partner that made it… not quite as awful as it could have been.”
“Sounds like a pretty amazing person,” Gojo-sensei says, and it's louder than any of them have dared to be during this conversation.
Panda, and then he thinks the entire group expects Geto-sensei to deflect, make a joke, turn it around. Tease their partner, or tease Gojo-sensei, but…
“Yeah,” they admit, “they are. I don’t- It wouldn’t have been the same without them.”
The honesty slams down on the room, bringing them all to silence. It fills the room and holds, weighing over them, and then there's a sniffle. Everyone jerks their head to the noise.
“Sorry,” Yuuji coughs, but they can’t quite cover it up. They sniffle again, and then a few tears fall and they sob. “Sorry, it’s just, that used to be my grandpa. For me. I really miss him.”
The confession is soft and heartbreaking, and comes as a reminder to everyone. Right. Yuuji’s grandfather had died right at the start of last year. He’s talked about it before, and Panda knows how much he misses him. Panda doesn’t know all the details, not as close to Yuuji as some of the others are, but he knows his grandfather had largely raised him, and had been the main paternal figure in his life. Panda can’t imagine the pain of losing his own father.
“It’s fine, Yuuji,” Megumi offers softly. He holds out a hand, and Yuuji takes it. Panda thinks of his own hospital experiences, of his dad staying steadfast by his bedside, bringing in stuffed animal after stuffed animal and considers it. Yeah, it definitely could have been a lot worse.
He hopes Yuuji knows that he has them all now, if not his grandpa.
It’s a hard conversation, a hard week. It reminds him how important it is to have people. He thinks of Geto-sensei’s comment, of someone steadfast by your side and reminds himself he has that too. He has that here. Panda’s glad he came.
Meugumi knows Geto came to work today considering he was the one that drove Megumi to school. But it’s club time and the third years are all here even though they’re usually the last to arrive and Geto… Geto isn’t here at all, even though he’s usually one of the first. He looks over at Gojo, tries to get a read off of him but he’s talking to Yuuji and Yuuta and Megumi doesn’t know how to subtly ask about Geto.
The answer is pretty clear anyways, Geto probably wasn’t feeling well and went home. Megumi has no real reason to ask. He’s just… worried. He cares about Geto. Not that he’d ever admit it.
They talk about the upcoming culture festival, complain about lack of accommodations, and before long the hour and a half is up. People start going home.
“Are you coming, Megumi?” Nobara asks, and Megumi hesitates. He usually takes the train home with them but he wants to talk to Gojo, ask about Geto.
“Nah,” he offers, “I need to speak with Gojo-sensei.”
“Do you want us to wait?” Yuuji asks, and Megumi once more turns them down.
“It’s okay,” he promises, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Yuuji agrees, and Nobara nods. They leave him and the rest of their small group disappears until it’s just Gojo and him.
“Is Geto okay?” he asks.
Gojo hesitates, but not long enough for it to be a serious concern. Just that normal hesitating way when you try to figure out how to answer if a disabled person is ever ‘okay.’
“He’s alright,” he answers, and the way he says alright makes it sound less okay then ‘okay.’ “He was starting to get a migraine, the ones that only get worse even with his meds so he went home.”
Megumi nods. Nothing out of the ordinary then, pretty common occurrence if a bit odd on the timing. Geto usually gets his bad migraines in the mornings as the sun rises, so it’s a bit strange to get one part way through the day, but whatever.
“Can we go home?” Megumi asks, because he doesn’t want to be hanging around school when he could be at home, helping. Even if helping is just being there if Geto needs him, it’s better than being here at school where both Gojo and him can do nothing.
“Yes, let's,” Gojo agrees, and offers his hand to Megumi. Megumi gives him his elbow, and guides them out of the room and down the hall. Gojo fills him with stories of his day and Megumi listens, really only breaking the silence for subtle ‘stairs’ or, ‘curb,’ or, ‘cross,’ that are necessary.
They walk to the bus together as Gojo regales tales and Megumi stays silent.
“Are you okay?” Gojo asks, when they’ve boarded the bus and sat.
“Yes,” he answers, “Why?”
“You're quieter than normal.”
Megumi shrugs and reflects, thinking of Geto.
“Are you anxious?” Gojo asks, “You always go quiet when you’re anxious.”
“I do not,” Megumi protests with a huff, but it’s pointless because it’s true and Gpjo has known him for much too long, knows his exact tells.
“Tell me,” Gojo wheedles, “tell me, tell me, tell me.”
He presses against Megumi’s side, getting into his personal space and Megumi has to take a deep breath, relaxing and not quite pushing back.
“Fine, fine,” he snaps after a moment, “I dunno, just anxious more than usual. Worried about Geto.”
It feels dumb admitting it because he knows that's just how disability is sometimes and it’s probably all fine but his anxiety doesn’t seem to get the message. He realizes his hands are shaking slightly and he takes a deep breath to calm down.
“Hey,” Gojo says, offering a hand. Megumi takes it reluctantly, “it’s okay. It’s not stupid.”
And fuck why is Gojo so good at reading him.
“Didn’t say it was,” Megumi still replies mulishly, some attempt at a defense. Gojo scoffs, flicks his arm and Megumi startles at the intrusion.
“We’ll be home soon,” he promises, “and you can say hi to your dad and see that he’s fine, just has a migraine.”
“Not my dad.”
Gojo carries on, ignoring his comment, “And then we can relax and watch a movie together the two of us and order food and be a little family.”
“Not family.”
“And everything will be fine and you will never be anxious again.”
Megumi snorts. Likely story.
They sit in silence for a minute, Megumi still lightly trembling. It’s dumb. He hates feeling this way. He knows it’s fine.
“Do you have your anxiety meds?” Gojo asks, “if not I think I have some on me.” He slings off his bag, starts rifling through a side compartment.
“I’m fine,” Megumi barks, and then is aware of the fact that they're in a public space and drops his voice, “really I’m- it’s okay. It’s not that bad.”
Gojo makes a face but ceases his shuffling.
“Okay,” he says, “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Megumi mutters, and then, “next stop is ours.”
“You did take your meds this morning, right?” Gojo asks, “Because that’s not just your antidepressants but also your anticonvulsant.”
“I can take my own fucking meds,” Megumi grumbles, and stands to get up from the bus. Gojo gets up right after them, and in the tighter space, puts a hand on his shoulder. Megumi leads them out, warns for the steps, warns for the large curb gap and then stands with Gojo at the crosswalk as Gojo takes his elbow.
“You needed reminders as a kid,” Gojo reminds him.
“I’m sixteen, not twelve,” Megumi hisses, and Gojo drops it. Even as he does, Megumi doesn’t feel any actual annoyance at it. It’s sort of nice that Gojo still cares, still looks out for those things. As much as Megumi insists that he isn’t his dad and they aren’t a family, they really really are and Megumi loves and cares for them.
They walk the rest of the way home, and Megumi pretends not to be staring at Gojo and Geto’s door as Gojo pushes past him to check on Geto. He doesn't shut the door, so Megumi gets a quick glance of Geto laying face down in the dark, grumbling returning remarks to Gojo. After a minute or two, Gojo wanders back out into the main living space.
“Megumi?” he asks, scanning the room.
“Here,” Megumi responds automatically, and Gojo’s gaze flickers to him as he walks over.
“He’s fine,” Gojo confirms, “Do you want to say hi?”
Megumi relaxes at the confirmation and then hesitates before shaking his head. He’s not a little kid anymore. He doesn’t need to do check ups.
Gojo smiles at him and Megumi knows somehow he can tell that Megumi’s hesitant.
“He said he’d be fine seeing you.” Gojo offers.
“He said that?” Megumi asks, and it's so, so validating even as it makes something else ache. Gojo never had to be in charge of him, but Geto even less so and even after living with them for years Megumi sometimes still feels like he’s invading.
“Yes,” Gojo promises, “Go say hi.”
“Okay,” Megumi whispers, and heads to the bedroom door.
He says hi quickly and softly and Geto mutters out grumbled words of care and- yeah Megumi feels a little better seeing him and making sure he’s okay. He didn’t need to, it’s just- as much as Gojo teases and Megumi rebukes, this is his family and he cares. He cares about them both, a lot, and their health and it matters to him that they’re okay.
“He’s fine,” Gojo soothes, when Megumi exits the room, “Why don’t you pick out something for us to watch together? Give Suguru a little more time alone in the dark.”
Megumi shrugs, and nods, and not much later he finds himself on the couch with Gojo, satisfied that Geto’s just in the other room, sleeping off a migraine.
“Okay,” Nobara says, gathering everyone's attention, “circle up.” She dives into her backpack as she makes the call. Suguru’s blocking the front of the class from where they sit in front of Satoru’s desk so they lift their breaks and grab their pushrims, moving themself to the side of Satoru’s desk instead. The rest of the group moves as well, and all of them situate together while making sure they can still see the front of the class.
“Oh shit I forgot my computer,” Nobara remarks, “Hey Gojo-sensei, can we use yours to project?”
“Yeah sure,” Satoru agrees. Their computer’s already open and from where Suguru’s sitting they watch Satoru flip through their email for the slides and open it. They pause then, and reach over their computer, sorting through the cords labeled in braille on their desk before finding the desired one and plugging it in.
“Someone turn the projector on?” they call, and Panda, with the height advantage he has on all of them, reaches up and pushes the button. The machine whirs slowly, light source growing and growing until-
Suguru blinks, because what is being projected is not the presentation Nobara has set up. No, it’s open to a picture. A picture with two people in it that Suguru is very familiar with but what the fuck why are those pictures displayed?
“Gojo,” Suguru says, voice clipped and short, “Why are our wedding photos being projected to the entire class?” There’s no point in pretending that’s not what they are, because everything in them is a dead give away.
“Oops!” Satoru panics, “I forgot that I had it on split screen!”
Suguru watches with the rest of their small group as Satoru frantically closes the photo (and then a few behind it) and drags the presentation over for it to be seen. Suguru blinks at the screen, brain still processing that their husband just displayed their wedding photos for all of the students to see when the lot of them know nothing of their relationship.
Nobara- sitting at the front and expecting to present and not deal with whatever is going on with their teachers- facepalms. Suguru feels like doing the same.
Everyone sits in stunned silence. He should say something, probably, but they don’t know what. In fact, Satoru should probably say something, fix this whole mess because afterall it is their fault.
“You’re married?” Toge types, AAC reading it out.
Suguru tries to breathe. It’s hard. There's a sudden anger that wells in them because this is exactly what they didn’t want. They didn’t want people to know, didn’t want people to ask. They wanted their privacy and their family to themself and they’re not the type of person to share these things and they’re so angry all of a sudden.
It’s only years of therapy and recovery that stop them from immediately snapping, that allow them to breathe and remind themself that the TBI heightens these things, heightens their emotions, has them react quicker and faster, and not always as true as they’d like. They breathe. They’re still upset, if not furiously angry.
“Gojo,” they hiss.
“Oh come on,” Satoru says, giving a hesitant laugh. Which is not fair because Suguru knows Satoru knows they’re upset. “They all know, you could at least call me by my given name.”
Suguru does not give in.
“Well,” Satoru chuckles uneasily, “Let’s get on with the meeting.”
“No way,” Yuuji protests, “You can’t- wait! Gojo-sensei, you've known Geto-sensei since high school?”
Suguru sees as all the pieces, all the stories start to click together for their students. They’ve known each other since high school. They didn’t start dating until college. They went through Suguru’s accident and recovery together. They know entirely too much about their relationship. But…
Suguru thinks of the day they both admitted they had partners, how excited, how earnest, how hopeful each of the students looked. They see that in them again, now, even if they do also look sly, eyes raking over the situation, determined for more information. It’s nice to know you have a future. Suguru knows how relieving that can be. They can’t blame the students for being interested and well, it’s a club, not a class, maybe it's not that bad that they know. Right?
“You talked about each other right in front of one another and just assumed we’d never figure it out?” Maki asks, crossing her arms and looking wholly unimpressed.
Satoru shrugs, and Suguru glares. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing ever, but it still isn’t ideal.
“Suguru,” Satoru says- voice soft and Suguru knows exactly what that means. Suguru’s shoulders fall. They breathe in, and out. Satoru wants this, and Suguru doesn’t care enough to stop it. They had at first, maybe even less than a minute ago. But that’s how their brain is sometimes and Suguru tries to relax.
“Okay,” they say and mean it, “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Satoru asks, and Suguru knows they could stop it, end this here but- but they look at the students and the work they’ve done and thinks about if Suguru themself had a teacher like this when they were young and- and it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.
“Yeah,” Suguru agrees. They look back at the kids who are eager, but lost, whispering to one another and shooting glances.
“Well, any questions?” Satoru asks the students, and they all immediately perk up, eyes lighting up as they all sit straighter.
“Three questions,” Suguru amends.
“Ten,” Satoru bargains.
“Five,” Suguru allows, and Satoru beams.
“Wait,” Yuuji says, “That’s not fair- give us six, then we each get one.”
“Megumi doesn’t need one,” Satoru dismisses, “he lives with us.”
Suguru groans at the same time Megumi’s head hits the desk and the other five people turn to look at him.
“Gojo,” Suguru hisses, because really how can he spill this many secrets in one day?
“Ah,” Satoru laughs uneasily, “Right. Five questions,” they agree, “ask away.”
The club explodes into action.