Chapter Text
"Hello?" You answered, your voice almost trembling.
Sukuna spoke your name, agitated.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Rehearsal is every Thursday at six in the garage of the frat house. Be there. We'll supply you with a guitar and a set list with music to go over. Don't fuck this up, or I'll have your damn head on a stick before homecoming."
You felt like the world just froze around you, and Miwa could feel the anxiety as it began to radiate off of you. You got the gig? How bad did everyone else have to fuck up in order for you to be the understudy guitarist? This couldn't be right. Haibara had to all but break the guitar in order for you not to get it over him. Maybe he brought Nanami with him, and that made him nervous. Oh God, were you gonna be sick? Worse?
"Are you there?"
You wanted to blurt out just how on God's green earth you managed to score this, but you knew if you did, it would probably cause Sukuna to chastise you before changing his mind. You didn't want to be worse off in his eyes than you already were. Besides, you needed to do this for Satoru.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I was just in class. Uhm, I'll be there. Thursday at six, right?"
"Right. See you then."
The phone line went dead, and Miwa immediately spoke once she realized you were off the phone. "What was that all about? Thursday at six?" She asked, microphone now dropped to her side, and straightened hair becoming a little frizzy from the humidity outside.
"Well, I kind of tried out to be Curse's understudy guitarist on a fluke, just because I was pretty good on the acoustic, and I guess I got it." You tried to play it off like you weren't crawling under your skin on the inside, the horrid imagery of all of your peers looking at you expectantly, the only girl in the band and as the understudy, no less in a dark and grimy bar, probably with eyeliner or Sharpie all over your face.
You expected Miwa to groan on about how much that was going to affect the project's performance that the two of you were working on, but instead, she squealed, pressing both of her arms tight into her chest and squinting her eyes. "Are you forreal?! You're gonna be a guitarist for Cursed?!"
You blinked, cocking a brow. "You... go to Curse's shows?"
"Well of course! I love the grungy emo vibe of them, so dreamy." Her eyes fluttered, nibbling at her lip. "My best friend Mechamaru signed up to audition, but I think he bailed last second."
You chuckled, must have been one of the names you didn't recognize. "I'm still just at a loss for words that they even contacted me, I don't know, I figured Sukuna hated me."
"He's a frat president, he hates everyone." Miwa waved you off, reassuming her position and persona. "Now, let's get this package done so you can prepare for your rehearsal to the best of your ability!"
Thursday night was, unfortunately or not, here before you could blink. You spent most of Wednesday working on the news package with Miwa and avoiding Satoru and Shoko to get out of a hangover for your rehearsal day. However, you did call them to tell them you got the position, only to have your phone speakers all but blown out by Satoru. You were trapped on the phone for an hour just discussing "eyeliner designs" with him to avoid copying Geto's.
But now you were awkwardly standing at the front door of Pi Kappa Alpha, glancing up at the columns that lined the front porch in shorts and a cut-neck t-shirt. You didn't exactly know how everyone was going to be dressed, if you had to wear the markings during rehearsal or at all, and a whole bundle of nerves buzzed under your skin. Deep down, you knew you weren't cut out for this.
Sukuna opened the door, his lip twitching. "Oh, it's you. I thought you wouldn't even show up at first. I was almost ready to call the jumpy kid in your place." It was an obvious jab. Some sort of band hazing.
"I'm on time, aren't I?" You poked back, following him through the frat house littered with solo cups and beer bottles to the garage.
"Yeah, but everyone's here." He opened the door to the garage, Mahito already tapping away at the drums and Choso tuning up his bass. The same purple guitar with flames sat on a stand, awaiting you.
Mahito was the first to greet you, waving his drumsticks back and forth. "Understudy's here!" He yelled over Choso's amp check, causing him to stop abruptly and look up.
He just nodded to you, then going back to his rift while fumbling around with the knobs on his amp.
"Don't expect to get a lot out of that one, I was shocked Geto went before him." Sukuna muttered, grabbing a piece of paper from the beer pong table at the front of you. "These are the songs, and behind them are the notes and strum patterns. Have these memorized better than a final by tomorrow night."
Bulls In The Bronx, Change In the House of Flies, The Drug In Me Is You, Teenagers, Thnks fr th Mmrs, and Dance Dance. Besides a few other stray songs, these weren't that bad and easy to learn.
"I'll need an acoustic for the solo in Bull in the Bronx, or it won't sound right." You mentioned. "I have one in my dorm, I'll bring it for that."
Sukuna shrugged. "Whatever wipes your ass." Weirdo.
You don't know why, but you expected a little more formality out of it. Maybe an introduction to all of them, but then again, maybe Sukuna assumed you knew everyone already. God, why were you acting like such a puppy dog in front of them? This is just a one-time thing. Do your job, and get back to your studies by Monday.
"Alright, Change, from the top. Give us a count Mahito." Sukuna announced after you readied your guitar, taking a deep breath. Oh shit, this was one of your heavy songs. You fumbled with the paper, changing over to the chords for that song just in time as Mahito finished the count with his drumsticks.
Your first few chords were fair, to say the least, and would definitely improve with time. You could still spot Sukuna taking irritated glances at you as he sang, but continued on regardless. Were you doing a bad job in his eyes? You felt like you sounded about as good as Geto, but maybe you weren't.
"Alright, stop, stop." Sukuna paused, holding his hands out. He turned to you, his free hand on his hip. He barked your name. "This isn't Woodstock. Put some grit into your strums."
You wanted to spit back at him for his attitude, but you just took a breath, remembered Satoru's pouty face, and nodded. "Sorry."
The four of you restarted the song, harsher than the first time, with your strums. You thought everything was going fine until the chorus, where Sukuna groaned and threw up his hands again. "Are you fucking playing an electric guitar or a ukulele? Strum. It. Harder!"
What was this guys problem? You finally threw your hands up at him in retort. "If I strum any harder, I'll break the strings!"
"Bullshit! Just say you can't pull your panties up and strum like a real rocker."
You felt your face heat in embarrassment, gripping the neck of the guitar. The strings are buried into your skin. "I'll try harder. I'm just used to acoustic."
"Well, get used to electric. I'm already tired of you." Sukuna snapped his fingers towards Mahito. "Give me another count."
Mahito did his usual drum count, and you made sure to strum the strings extra hard, causing the guitar's sound to grate out from the amp. That was it, that was exactly how Geto's used to sound. Your arm was gonna be killing you by the time rehearsal was over. Maybe you should've just let Sukuna call Haibara when he threatened it.
You sighed a breath of relief when you got the entire way through the song, letting the guitar rest on your shoulders. Your hand ached and turned an angry beet color and the tips of your fingers indented almost down to the bone.
"That was good." A voice called from the other side of Sukuna, and you leaned over to catch a glimpse.
It was Choso.
"It was tolerable," Sukuna muttered. "Let's see if she can handle Bulls in the Bronx."
"Do you have an acoustic here?" You asked, fumbling around with the strings of the electric guitar.
"I have one in my trunk. Let me go grab it." Choso said, putting his bass down on the stand before walking out of the garage. That left you to the wolf known as Sukuna.
"You're getting spoiled by him."
You blinked, knitting your brows together. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"First, he lets you use his guitar, then he goes and fetches his acoustic for you. Initially, I was gonna make you buy your own electric, but Choso said he would loan you his for the rehearsal and the gig." Sukuna explained, twirling the chord of his microphone into intricate webs in his hand.
Was this Choso's guitar the whole time? You had no idea. You figured Geto just left it over once he ghosted the band. Now that you think about it, Geto's guitar was marbled amber. He had let you, rather reluctantly, play it a couple of times when in his dorm. Still, you didn't think Choso would have been this friendly towards you after basically flipping you the bird with his eyes at auditions.
You tried to play it off cool, shrugging. "Oh, I didn't know."
"He's totally into you." Mahito piped up, spinning his drumsticks around.
You almost choked on your own spit, straightening your throat. He was definitely just trying to stir the pot, so you just stayed silent.
Choso returned, an acoustic guitar in hand, with the empty cover for it in the other. He set it on the stand where the electric guitar used to be, flopping the cover down beside it . After Mahito's words, your cheeks couldn't help but heat at the slight brush against yours and Choso's hand. He seemed indifferent to it, his expression that usual deadpan and tired look.
When he returned to his bass, Sukuna pointed the microphone at you like a threat. "Alright, you'll have to switch from the electric to the acoustic fast for the solo."
You nodded along, waiting for Mahito's count.
"One, two, one two three let's go!" Mahito yelled, absolutely beating the fire out of his drum set to send the rest of you flying into the first verse. Sukuna's vocals tore through the room like claws on asphalt, gravelly and venom-laced. But he didn’t look at you once. Somehow, that made you feel steadier. Like you were finally apart of the band instead of standing outside it.
Sukuna snapped your name during the bridge. "Now!"
You slung the electric guitar off and easily traded it for the acoustic, plucking a few practice strings before making your fingers bleed from the battlefront of chords and separate strums you had to produce. Your eyes stayed glued to the page in front of you, sliding along every string and strum on the piece of paper. You were holding your breath the entire time, face swelling red as the three of them clapped along in sync.
Once the solo ended, you had to quickly change back into the electric to be flung into the last verse. Sukuna gave you a side eye, but nothing more. If anything, you were shocked he hadn't stopped you yet.
You took the silence as a compliment.
On the final strum, you finally took a full breath. All of your heads thrown back in the euphoria of an almost perfect song. So that's why guys clung to their shitty high school rock bands like it was their lifeline, the adrenaline that came with it was almost better than any drug you think you could fathom. You were sweating your ass off, more than likely having run mascara down your cheeks and hair sticking to your forehead. The garage itself was heavy with musk and end of August heat, and you were wondering why they didn't open the door for some air.
"You were a monster!" Mahito cut through the silence, steadying his cymbals.
You smiled, nodding to Mahito. "Thanks."
Sukuna scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't get cocky just because you got lucky. You could eat shit on the next song just as easy."
"Dude quit being a dick." Choso finally spoke for probably the second time in the whole practice. He was looking up from his bass, his brown eyes flashing amber in the incandescent lighting of the garage.
"I'm not being a dick. If she can't handle me, then she sure as hell can't handle the crowd at Shrine." Sukuna bit back.
"She's handling it just fine. Admit it, she's doing better on her first day than Geto would do on his best. He was still fucking up the solo after countless rehearsals because he's a sulk. You just don't want to say that she's better because she's a girl." Choso was back to looking down at his bass, plucking soft strings.
Sukuna’s jaw ticked. For a second, he looked like he might lunge or throw his mic or tear through the drywall. But instead, he clamped his mouth shut and bit the inside of his cheek, sharp canines visible in the motion. "Don't go all soft just because she's a girl either."
Choso shrugged. "Can we get this over with? I have the gym with Todo at nine."
"Yeahhh and I gotta get home and feed Daggy." Mahito pouted.
"Fine, fine, let's go. Teenagers is next."
Just like the two begged, the rest of the rehearsal flowed smoothly. Sukuna kept his witty remarks to himself; you played with the same force he pushed out of you on the first song, and there were no other setbacks for the rest of the night.
"Alright, keep this energy we just had for tomorrow night. Show starts at nine, so get there by eight. Don't think just because you're a girl, you don't have to help set up, princess." Sukuna had returned to his dickhead self, wrapping up his microphone and chord. "Show yourselves out, I'm going to grab a shower."
Mahito yelled in triumph, giving a final clash to his cymbals before standing up with his drumsticks. He chimed your name. "Great job tonight! I'm sure you won't totally bust tomorrow! Off to feed my lobster!"
You watched him walk out, eyebrows furrowing. "Thanks?"
That left you and Choso in the stuffy garage, packing up the guitar and acoustic, and you handed both of the cases back over to him. You rethought what Sukuna said about him, and maybe you were just imagining it, but that tension that they were teasing you about was almost buzzing around the room now that it was just the two of you.
"Here, uh, Sukuna said this was yours. Thanks for letting me borrow it."
He looked up from packing up his bass, sliding it the rest of the way into its cover and zipping it up. This was the closest you've ever been to him. You could see how his markings hadn't budged despite the sweat causing his slut strands to stick to his forehead, how oddly nice he smelled despite the heat, and just how tired he looked. "Oh, keep that."
You blinked, cocking an eyebrow with a twitched smile. "Huh?"
"Keep the electric guitar. You're going to need it if you want to get better for tomorrow night." He insisted, taking the acoustic cover out of your hand and leaving you with the mentioned guitar.
You were about to argue against it, insist that you didn't want to keep something so expensive that you might break, because any sort of guitar like that was obviously either custom-made or special edition, but you were still hoping to get officially on Choso's good side.
"Wow, thank you, I promise to practice between here and there." You forced an awkward chuckle, shrugging the strap to the cover over your shoulder.
"Don't let Sukuna's words get to you. You were just an easy scapegoat tonight. If you weren't here, he would have been hounding us about something else." He assured you, guiding you out of the garage and out onto the frat house's lawn.
"Oh yeah, thanks for sticking up for me, too. You didn't have to."
"I know." His response caught you off guard, causing you to pause and stand with him. His car must have been the black Mazda in the driveway beside your own car. For the first time since you met him, you watched his lips upturn slightly into a half-smile. "But you deserved to know someone was on your side. You're solid, much more solid than Geto."
Oh, so he only really stuck up for you, not because of his fondness towards you, but his seeming hatred for Geto. That was much more believable than Sukuna and Mahito's claim that he had the hots for you.
He continued to linger around his car, keys in hand, like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words.
"See you tomorrow night." He finally blurted, and before you could respond, he was shoving his bass into the back cab of his car and getting in. You could've sworn in the blur you saw of him crouching to get in the driver's side, the faintest tinge of color stained his cheeks. He gave you a curt wave as he backed out of the driveway, engine blaring with the sudden acceleration once on the street. You didn't know what to even think of him anymore. He was such an enigma.
"Get off the fucking lawn!" Sukuna called from the second floor, a towel curled around his shoulders and his hair damp.
You only turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder, shooting him the bird before getting into your car and revving the engine. You could see from your dashboard that Sukuna was just slightly smiling, but it was a smartass smirk, not one of anything genuine. Or maybe it was, and that's just how he communicated it. Either way, you could only hope that you were winning over everyone in the band.
As if right on time, your phone buzzed in your back pocket while driving. You picked it up, hearing Gojo's voice whooping and hollering.
"How was it?! Was Sukuna a hardass?! Did Mahito bring his lobster?! Did you talk to Choso?!" He bombarded you with questions over the line, and you held your phone out slightly away from your ear to keep his voice from cracking your eardrums.
"God, Toru, did you snort a line before calling me?"
"I only socially do coke, thank you." He joked. "But you didn't answer any of my questions, and I'm literally curled up on my bed with a bag of popcorn waiting for you to spill."
"The rehearsal was good. Sukuna was definitely a hardass, but he eased up after Choso defended me a little bit. Mahito didn't bring his lobster, but he did mention him." You answered his assembly line of questions, taking the turn to your dorm for a well-deserved shower.
"Oooo, the broody bassist defending the new girl guitarist' honor." Satoru swooned, leaning back on his bed and shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "I can already see all of the fanfiction that will be written about you by the weirdos on campus."
"Weirdos being you." You quipped, pulling into the parking lot of the dorm hall. "It wasn't like that at all, either. He wasn't defending me because he likes me, he was defending me because he hates Geto. I think if Choso had it his way, he would be out of the band for good."
"Hmm, I guess I can remember some discourse between them. Oh well, you're performing Friday! How do you feel?!"
"Good now that we've rehearsed and I've proved to them and myself that I can do it." You made your way up the steps, walking inside and towards your door. "But I'm gonna go take a shower. I probably smell horrendous, and I know all my mascara is now off my eyelashes and on my cheeks."
"Awww my little rockstar." Satoru teased. "See you tomorrow night."
Your chest pitted at his words, coming a little closer to the reality that you were actually doing this. You were going to perform at a bar with Cursed. It was easy to do all of that in a garage with a grand total of three people, but a crowd of randoms seemed suffocating all of a sudden.
Still, you swallowed the lump in your throat and responded to your best friend.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow night."