Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You didn't expect your junior year to be anything out of the ordinary, maybe bigger assignments or a rowdy frat party or two, but nothing like how it actually turned out for you.

It started walking down the halls of the communications building, trying to tune out your friend Satoru Gojo's sulking that he still couldn't get over his high school and now former college sweetheart, Geto Suguru. You were listening to him dawdle on and on about all the things that could have happened differently, though he was pretty patched up from it by now, it was just a way to blow off steam at this point.

Still, you couldn't help but stop by the bulletin board when a piece of loose-leaf paper caught your eye.

It was obviously hand-drawn, with a rather pitiful stick figure of the lead singer, Ryomen Sukuna, doodled looking all scary on the front. CURSED, calling all guitarists! Perform a special one-night gig at the all-time famous and fantastic MALEVOLENT SHRINE bar. Auditions in the indoor auditorium, September 1st, 3 p.m. DO NOT BE LATE!

Satoru paused once he realized you were no longer following, trailing back to you and leaning over your shoulder.

"Hm? Oh geez, don't tell me he went into hiding after destroying my heart like that."

You glanced back up at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Sounds like it, wonder who will take his place, and if it'll be permanent."

Cursed was a rather popular cover band in the area, more for the looks of the guys and less for the alternative music that they played. It helped that all of the bars besides Void coddled up to Sukuna due to his dad being a rather big shot in the area, and he was the president of one of the frats. They had gigs to play almost every weekend.

The two of you stared at the flyer for a moment more, then Satoru gasped, grabbing you by the shoulders hard enough to make you flinch before swinging you around. "You will! You will!" He cheered, as if he had an ultimate eureka moment.

You scoffed, wriggling away from his grasp and jerking back your school bag, practically offended. "What the fuck makes you think I'm up for the challenge?"

Satoru waved his hands back and forth, like he was giving some grand presentation. "Oh, come on! I've heard you in your room before, you totally have the fingers for it, and you love the songs they cover and know them by heart. Plus, it would be the biggest comeback ever to have the ex of the guitarist's best friend take his place."

While you were decent at the guitar from your lessons when you were younger, it was usually acoustic, and you didn't have a lot of interest in the almost metal aspect Cursed carried along with them. Still, you could easily tell Satoru had more of a sinister and mischievous reasoning for you to become one of the starlets of their band.

"Oh, I get it now, you want me to be a revenge tactic."

He shrugged, finally walking along with you towards the dining hall. "Not exactly, I do think you're an excellent guitarist. You missed your calling as a music major yourself."

"Don't try to stroke my ego in order to get me to do it."

"I'm not! I'm just saying I think you should give it a shot, it seems like it's just for one night after all. Sugu won't stay away from the band for long."

"I still can't believe you two broke up over something as stupid as a major change." You mentioned.

It was stupid and incredibly melodramatic of Suguru. Both Satoru and Suguru used to be pre-law majors together, but when Suguru switched over to music and music performance, he went on this entire schpeel about how much of a conflict of interest their entire relationship would be and how neither of them would have time for one another and they both had to go their own ways despite how good the two of them were together.

All this because the now dropped out Toji Zenin beat him in a mock trial.

"Trust me, I think it's just as stupid, and even more stupid to break up with me and then ghost the band he practically broke up with me for." Satoru opened the doors to the dining hall, already having ordered some food from the local sushi stall. You always just ordered a maki roll that you would pick at and take apart before slowly eating it by its components.

"I heard he went into no contact with his parents, too." You added, grabbing your bag from the pickup stall.

You quietly hypothesized that maybe that's what sent him over the edge. You remembered how much Suguru loved his Mom, so they must have been just as hard. He probably couldn't take telling them that he switched from something as prestigious as pre-law to something like music performance at a suitcase college, only well known for being 'pretty alright' at football.

"Well, are you gonna go to that audition? It's in an hour." Satoru changed the subject, becoming uncomfortable and melancholic from the topic.

You wanted to roll your eyes and tell him no, no way in hell, but now you have him all sulky again and staring down at his plate while he himself poked at his nigiri plate.

"Fine, I'll go, but don't expect me to book it or anything. I'm sure Haibara is auditioning too, and you know he'll probably blow them away with both his personality and his skills." 

Your words immediately brightened Satoru's face, a grin from ear to ear as he waved his hands in victory. "I knew you'd say yes! You're the best!"

And you thought you were until you walked into the auditorium to absolutely no one but Ryomen Sukuna and the other two bandmates, whom you were totally blanking on. 

"Name?" Sukuna was the first to call out, and it echoed off the walls of the empty building.

You spoke your name and awkwardly shuffled all the way inside. Upon walking up to the stage, you noticed an electric guitar was hooked up to an amp.

Sukuna repeated your name, crossing his arms. The grey-haired one squealed, waving his arm back and forth. "I remember you! You were my partner for a writing project in Sociology!" 

Oh yeah, Mahito. You could hardly see him from the lights. It didn't help that he didn't really do anything other than make the silly graphics for said project. You ended up doing all of the technical work. Then again, it wasn't like you minded. You would much rather do that and get the 98 that you did instead of letting him half ass a portion of it and getting an 80 or something. You don't really even know how he got into college to begin with. Maybe he had rich parents like the rest of the jackasses in this town.

Sukuna was one of them. His family had owned the Malevolent Shrine bar downtown for years now. Same with Gojo's family owning the Void bar and Toji's owning Moon Palace. It sucked to be in such a small town with such little options for bars, especially when some asshole's family seemed to always own one of them. Well, of course, this was excluding Satoru. He didn't act all pedestal-bound from it like Sukuna or Toji did.

Still, you were failing to recognize the guy to the left of him. His dark hair was haphazardly tied into spiky pigtails in a black oversized shirt and cuffed jeans. They all had their regular band markings on that you could only assume was eyeliner or Sharpie. His was a mark along his nose, Mahito's had stitches, Geto's was always a stitch along his forehead, and Sukuna's was the most complex one as the lead singer. Man, you really hoped they wouldn't make you do those dumbass marks.

"Are you gonna play or what?" Sukuna urged.

"Right, sorry."

You picked up the electric guitar, feeling foreign in your hands with such a hefty weight to it. It was a deep purple with black flames, and must have been one that Geto left behind.

Y'know, maybe you should have put more thought into what you were actually going to play, because right now your mind had lost your entire catalog on what to play for the band. My Chemical Romance? Deftones? Black Veil Brides? None of it was coming to you.

So you did the only alternative song you knew right off the top of your head, strumming the first few chords of 'The Sky Under the Sea' by Pierce the Veil, grossly gritty compared to the indie anthems you would hum along to when Satoru begged you to play for him to "study" to. You tried your best not to look up at them, knowing it would just make you freeze and fumble your fingers.

After you finished what felt like the first verse and chorus of the song, you let the guitar rest by the strap on your shoulder, gathering the nerve to look up at the three.

Sukuna's arms were still crossed, his expression unreadable. Mahito was giving you a folded hand clap with a wide and toothy smile. Finally, the guy whose name you couldn't recall was hunched over, almost glaring at you through his bangs. You huffed a sigh, feeling as if that look alone sealed your fate. You were out of the race. Sorry Satoru.

"We'll call you if you're chosen. Leave your phone number on the sheet." Sukuna nodded down to the sheet on the small side table by the guitar.

You swallowed hard and bent down. You noticed that only you, Haibara, and two other random names you didn't recognize were written down. Hm, maybe you actually did have a chance.

"Thanks." You called out into the auditorium, but no one responded. You shrugged and made your way out of the building, feeling like you could finally take a full breath. 

To your surprise, Gojo and Shoko were waiting for you outside. They turned and looked at you, eyes alight and immediately crowding around you. 

"Did you get it? Did you get it?!" They chanted in unison.

You rolled your eyes, shuffling them both away from you. "No! They said they'd call me."

Shoko pouted, a cigarette hanging from her lips. "We were gonna go to Void to celebrate."

"Celebrate a gig I could've been told no to that I auditioned for last minute?" You snorted, crossing your arms. "It sounds like you both just wanted an excuse to drink."

They giggled at each other, and Shoko stomped out her cigarette. "It's the first week of classes! We gotta build back up our tolerance." She urged.

You went to object, but paused at another topic that intruded into your brain. "Who's the bassist of Cursed again? I know Sukuna, I know Mahito, but I couldn't recall the other guy for the life of me. He's always so quiet and never at any of the parties."

Satoru waved you off. "Oh, Choso? Nah, he's always at the parties, just usually at smokers' corner or hidden in the bathroom. He doesn't get around much. He wants to be a phlebotomist, though, something about supporting his little brothers."

"Yeah, I think he cost me the gig. He was all but glaring at me by the end of my audition."

"He's just like that. Don't sweat it." Satoru tried to reassure you, but you were all but sure they would pick Haibara before they picked you. 

"Let's just go get that stupid drink you guys are begging for." 

They both cheered, skipping their way down the sidewalk towards Gojo's car. You followed behind, sighing to yourself. You didn't really know what you were going to do if you did get the gig. You would have to rehearse and actually perform in front of a crowd, a crowd specifically made up by your peers. You hadn't exactly swallowed that fact yet, but you knew that there was zero to no chance with that Choso guy glaring you down like that.

The next morning you woke up in your dorm, peeling yourself from the mattress with a groan. Per usual, Gojo made sure the bartenders overserved you on a Tuesday night, leaving you hungover for your broadcasting lab this morning.

"Miwa is gonna hate me." You grumbled, pulling your hair in a messy half-updo, expecting your younger classmate to be less than pleased by your disheveled appearance. At least you were the producer, no on-camera action. What did it matter if you showed up in a tank and sweats?

As if you predicted it, Miwa was slightly grumpy that you showed up in something bordering pajamas while she came dressed to the nines in a school suit and tie. 

"I'm behind the camera, what does it matter?" You muttered, adjusting the brightness on the DSLR camera. You had been instructed to make a package for your demo reel today.

"In order to work your best, you must dress and feel your best!" She urged, white knuckling the poor microphone connected to said camera. God, as much as you loved her she could not drag the stick out of her ass when it came to her academics. 

"Well, get to junior year with a part-time job and then get back to me on that statement." You retorted, leaning into the camera. "Alright, we're good to go on if you are."

Right before you snapped your fingers for action, your phone buzzed in your pocket, then again, and then once more. Miwa's face dropped, automatically out of her original news anchor persona when your phone wouldn't stop its incessant buzzing. Someone must be calling you.

"Sorry, it's probably Gojo. He forgot his textbook in my dorm the other day." You said, fishing your phone out of your pocket to grab hold of the caller ID.

"Puke-una" in all caps lit up your screen, a proper contact you had put him under when he began inviting you to frat parties. 

You swallowed hard. No way he was calling you to say you got the gig, right? It was so early, too. Maybe he was calling all of the other contestants to tell them no before he called the one who got it. Yeah, that's it. He's just calling to let you down, probably not so easily.

You took a deep breath, sliding the answer button before pressing it up to your ear. "Hello?"

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."

Chapter Text

"You're gonna be late!" Shoko yelled from the other side of your door, banging on it with her fist.

"Just a minute!" You snapped, touching up your mascara before scrambling to lace up your Doc Martens. You were dressed about as grunge as you could get, with a tank top and flannel as well as ripped jeans and Docs. You didn't bother with any markings. If Sukuna really wanted them, he could draw them on himself when you got there.

You stepped out of your bedroom, both Shoko and Gojo were piled on the couch. 

"You look badass!" Gojo exclaimed, standing up to deliver you a high five. 

"Thanks, I feel it." You grinned, slinging Choso's electric guitar on your back. You had practiced religiously since you went home yesterday, much to the dismay of all of your neighbors and Shoko. Still, you weren't about to make a fool out of yourself at one of the most popular bars in town. You would piss a few people off for that.

Gojo and Shoko bid you farewell, claiming to see you in just an hour. You were getting down to the wire here. 

Shrine was pretty much empty when you got there, just a few bartenders busying themselves back and forth to stray regulars who didn't intend to stay for the show, but no signs of a line for the college crowd yet. You spotted Sukuna setting down an amp on the stage at the side of the bar, meddling around with a few cords. He already had his shirt off before the show even started.

"Hey." You called to him, waving.

"Look who decided to show up." He quipped, hopping down from the stage. Oddly, he dapped you up. He must've already had a drink in him.

"You knew I would." You smirked, placing a hand on your hip. 

"Well, don't just stand there, I told you you'd have to help set up." He gestured for you to follow, going behind the stage and through the back door to the van Choso and Mahito were unloading.

"Hey guys." You waved, and Choso and Mahito both looked up at you.

"Oh hey!" Mahito waved, carrying his snare drum inside.

"Hey." Choso carried an amp behind Mahito, giving you a passing glance.

You decided to try to get to work, picking up an amp and leaning it onto your shoulder to carry inside. This thing was heavier than you expected. 

You were hobbling your way to the stage when a voice spoke in front of you. "Let me get that." You felt the amp's heaviness lift from your shoulders. It was Choso. He took it with little to no struggle, hauling it towards the stage. 

While it struck you as odd, you decided to brush it off and turn around to grab a drum for Mahito, but the only thing left was the kick drum. You were unable to fully pick it up without losing your grip. You tried to wheel it inside until Choso was back in front of you again, lifting it up off the ground and carrying it the rest of the way in.

You caught a glimpse of the curve of his muscles peeking just above his black short-sleeved shirt, flexing against the weight of the drum. Damn, for a sickly looking band boy he was well sculpted. Still, you wish he had allowed you to help out so Sukuna wouldn't ride you about not doing anything.

"I had it." You muttered once you caught up to him. You didn't know if you should enjoy the fact that he didn't want you lifting anything heavy or if you should grimace at the thought that he assumed you weren't strong enough to carry anything.

"I know." He replied, indifferent as he connected the kick drum to the rest of the kit. "Go connect your guitar to the amp, you need to make sure you're tuned up."

You nodded along with him, going over to unzip your guitar and hook it to the amp. You needed to be sure you had the right tone, too. Everything about Cursed was so chaotic yet so precise. You would think Sukuna was the Gordan Ramsey of cheap college rock bands.

"Needs more reverb." Speaking of the dick, he was now standing over you as you leaned on the amp.

"I know, that's why I'm tuning." You retorted, glancing up at him.

He threw his hand back, rolling his eyes. "Just trying to make sure you don't butcher this set." He grumbled, walking away from you. Your eyes followed him, watching him mutter something to Choso, who seemed to mimic the same disapproving stare you gave him.

Sukuna then hopped off the stage, barking at one of the bartenders. You sighed, picking up the reverb on your amp and finishing out the tuning. You practiced a few strums of Change, praying that you could remember everything. What if you didn't? What if you completely froze once you got back on this stage in front of everyone, pissing the whole bar off and disappointing your friends. What if Geto came to laugh at you? You swallowed hard, staring down at the guitar.

"Got nerves?" Choso pulled you from your thoughts, sitting on one of the speakers beside you now.

You shrugged, you didn't want to seem like a pussy. "I mean, it is my first time playing."

"Don't worry, when it was our first time playing, Sukuna and Geto got into a fight right here on this stage in front of Sukuna's entire frat, back when he was just a pledge. We should've been done for before we even started." He assured you. "But you perform with a certain zen. Once you let your fingers start strumming instead of your brain, it's like your anxiety is gone. Don't try to be perfect." 

You remember that night. It was back when Satoru and Suguru were still crushing on one another, and he had begged you to come watch his totally hot situationship play. Honestly, it was really funny watching Suguru shove Sukuna off the stage to be caught by his frat brothers in a crowd surf, Sukuna flipping Geto the bird the whole time while spouting curses. But ever since that night, they called their band "Cursed", and it stuck. 

You soaked in Choso's words, nibbling on your lip. "Were you scared the first time you played?"

"Terrified, but after that first fight, I knew it couldn't get much worse than that." Choso huffed a chuckle, ghosting a grin.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's just hope Sukuna doesn't try to pick a straw with me." You joked, leaning up from the amp.

"He won't," Choso affirmed, picking up his bass. "I won't let him."

Your face heated, and you were going to ask what he meant by that before Sukuna hopped back up on the stage. "Alright, we have to be behind the curtain in five. They're about to start letting people in the door." He carried a small tray of four shots with him, amber and dark in color. "Come get your christening."

Choso rolled his eyes while Mahito hollered and beat his drumsticks together. "Jaeger bomb!" He exclaimed, punching the air. 

Your face twisted in disgust. "A Jaeger bomb?" You repeated, inching up to Sukuna, who was expectantly holding the tray. 

"Redbull and alcohol, the two things you need for your energy and for your nerves." He said, taking the last shot off the tray once everyone had theirs in hand. He peered down at it, then back up at the three of you. "To a night with a newbie, who hopefully won't eat shit. At rehearsal, she proved her grit, but now we have to see if she's worth her spit." He rhymed, acting like it was the best thing since Dante, as you all clinked your glasses together.

Jaeger was much worse than you remembered, trying your best not to cringe at how it stung all the way down your throat.

"Alright, show's in ten. Get behind the curtain jackasses." Sukuna urged, waving his hands towards the thick piece of cloth covering backstage.

You huddled up in the wings with Choso and Mahito, the crinkling of plastic distracting you from your anxiety once you were shoved in between the two bandmates. You turned your head to the right, seeing Mahito had pulled out an entire bag of Salt and Vinegar chips from his back pocket and popped them open.

"Mahito?" You muttered, cocking an eyebrow.

He took a handful of chips and shoved them into his mouth, glancing over at you. He waved the bag your way, mouth still full. "Want some?"

You bit your cheek from saying something smart, instead, you just shook your head. "No thanks."

A few minutes went by, and you began to see people file in and order drinks before taking their respective places in the crowd. You thought you could make out Geto and Shoko, maybe Nanami, definitely Haibara, who was jumping in a circle despite his loss of the gig. Everyone you knew. It felt like they were here. You didn't know if that made you feel better or worse. 

Goosebumps lined all down your arms when one of the bartenders hopped up onto the stage, Sukuna holding all three of you back as the bartender tapped the mic. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen and Curses." His voice boomed over the speakers. The crowd raged in response, clinking glasses and scooting closer to the stage. "Are you ready for the first show of the semester with the one, the only, Cursed?!" More screaming ensued, and yeah, you felt worse. Bile began to rise in your throat. You weren't going to be able to pull this off flawlessly, no shot.

You felt a hand enclose your shoulder, warm against the fabric of your flannel. 

It was Choso behind you. "You're gonna do great." He said, offering you a smile.

You smiled back at him, nodding before the bartender screeched. "Here we have it, Cursed!"

Sukuna took the lead, waving his hands like he was some sort of king coming out to meet the commonwealth. Your legs turned into jello as you took up your guitar, desperately trying to spot Gojo, Shoko, anyone to keep your eyes on to give you comfort. You swallowed the boulder in your throat, clenching the neck of the guitar.

Gojo's white hair finally caught your eye, waving a pom pom in the college colors he probably scored at a football game. You smiled and flashed him a peace sign. The guitar felt heavier now, holding you in place. The red and purple strobe lights were blinding you, and the fog from the smoke machines suffocated your lungs. You glanced down at the setlist taped to the floor, seeing Change listed first. Bull in the Bronx was the encore. 

Mahito's drumsticks clicked together for a count, and when the third one hit, you strummed into the deep and broody opening of the song. The sound echoed off the walls of the full bar, making it feel different. Were you playing correctly? Would Sukuna call you out in front of all these people if you started playing too softly again? You forced yourself to take a breath, looking over at Choso when the rest of the band kicked in. He was lost in his own world, nodding his head to the song's beat.

Once you let your fingers start strumming instead of your brain, it's like your anxiety is gone.

You recalled his words of advice, forcing yourself to squint your eyes shut and let your fingers do all of the talking for you. He was right; once you stopped trying to be so technical on every chord and strum, the music began to come easier to you.

Sukuna's voice grated against the microphone, going over to sing to Choso, rocking his whole body along to the music before trailing over to you. On instinct you wanted to shrink back, to not have anyone fuck with your perfect flow right now, but instead of coming over to throw you off, Sukuna instead urged you to dance back and forth with him, canines flashing as his head flung back to the chorus. Of course, this charismatic personality was all just for show, but it felt nice to have Sukuna of all people be perceptive to your playing.

You looked back over to Satoru, who was still screaming his head off and shaking his pom pom. In fact, that's kind of what he did throughout all of the songs. You would think you were some billionaire pop singer on world tour with the way he was acting. 

Sweat was already dribbling down your forehead by the second song, causing you to sling off your flannel during a break between them, getting a rise out of the entire crowd as they all reached their hands up.

You wanted to laugh, pointing to your flannel with an arched brow. Everyone was hooting and hollering, spurring you to throw your flannel in Gojo's direction so that you could get it back by the end of the night. Luckily, he caught it, earning a few more rounds of squeals from him as he shook it in front of Shoko, who was laughing and holding up the flannel with him.

You were nearing the end of the setlist, getting towards the second-to-last song, as you noticed that the acoustic was all the way on the other side of the stage by Choso. You paused, there was no way you could walk over to that in time for the change from guitars, but an idea had spurred into your head from the sight. Maybe you were high on your initial success, and maybe you knew that this could end horribly if it went wrong at all, but you felt it would be the perfect thing to send off your already well-received presence.

Walking over to Choso during the break before Bulls, you leaned into him so he could properly hear you. "I want you to throw the acoustic to me for the solo." You said, nodding towards it on the stand behind him.

He glanced back, unsure. "What if you don't catch it?"

You nodded to him in reassurance. "I'll catch it, I promise. I'm stronger than I look." You nudged his shoulder, a quip to his behavior from earlier. "It'll be perfect, and maybe even earn me a gold star from Sukuna for showing my ass." 

Choso smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "Alright."

You walked back over to your spot, glancing at Sukuna, who was giving you a slide glare. You just smirked back, setting yourself up for the first part of the encore.

Okay, this was it. You couldn't fuck this up. No, you wouldn't fuck this up. You were going to do so good and have everyone erupt into roars of awe, and maybe even have people claiming that Geto should stay gone and that you should start being the frontline guitarist. Not that you wanted that, but it would be nice to hear people talk about it.

You were nearing the solo, and Choso looked over at you were furrowed brows, as if to silently ask, 'You sure you can do this?'

You nodded to him, slung the electric guitar off your shoulders, and placed it down on its stand. You spun to Choso, arms stretched out wide to receive the guitar. You could see Sukuna's face out of the corner of your eye, about to sling the microphone down and storm over to you when Choso threw the guitar into the air.

It created a perfect arc, flying directly over Sukuna's hand and hitting you square in the chest with a hard 'thud'. You wrapped your arms around it, slipping on the strap. Sukuna stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly agape like you had just sprouted wings. You ignored him, knowing you only had seconds to start the solo.

You then realized that it didn't really matter if you did the solo right or not; the crowd was too busy losing their minds that you pulled a stunt like that. You couldn't help but smile, finishing up the solo with a stomp on the hardwood of the stage. You slipped the acoustic off, running it to the wings before returning to put on your original guitar.

That was it. That was the same euphoria you had in the garage during rehearsal. You had played a near-perfect show. Sukuna dropped the microphone after a quick thank you and dove into his crowd of frat brothers, letting them carry him off to the bar for a round. You looked back towards Satoru and Shoko, who had made their way up to the front of the stage. Gojo had his arms stretched wide, ready to catch you when you jumped off.

You laughed, giving a little leap into his arms. The minute you made contact, he slung you around, his compliments drowned out by the other noise in the bar. You twisted your neck to try to catch sight of Choso, but he was already gone. 

"I can't believe you did that! Was that planned at all?!" Satoru's voice finally made it to your ears, and you shook your head. 

"I decided it last minute with Choso. I thought it would make the crowd for sure like me." You laughed, breathless and flushed, the last vibrations of adrenaline still humming in your veins. The crowd was starting to thin near the stage, drinks being clutched again instead of phones, voices breaking out in lyrics from earlier in the set. The bar was sweaty and alive. You’d made it out of the storm. "I need a drink."

"I'm buying. You deserve like, ten." Shoko piped up, waving her debit card in the air.

The three of you approached the bar, a white headed bartender already having to sling drinks left and right. Uraume, known as one of the best cocktail makers in town. You always wondered why they stayed at a shitty dive like this until it was revealed they were actually Sukuna's little sibling who had worked here much younger than they were supposed to.

"Three Divine Flames, please!" Shoko called when they approached, handing them her debit card. Divine Flame was the bar's signature cocktail, tequila and watermelon liqueur with a shake or two of chamoy and tajin. It was spicy, but damn was it good.

They didn't speak a word, just nodded and walked away to get to work. 

"I couldn't even hear my own thoughts for half of this show. Everyone was too busy fangirling over you, even the dimwit frat bros." Shoko said, leaning on the bar to the side of you.

"Trust me, I wasn't even sure if I was playing right half of the time because I couldn't hear the music. I guess I was right when I hypothesized that people see Cursed less for the music and more for the pretty looks." You joked, resting your chin in your hand.

"But you still did sooo good, even Nanami was rocking his head," Satoru added. "He wasn't even going to come out if Haibara didn't get the role, but I think he was convinced." 

Uraume returned with your drinks, setting them down in a row. The rim of chili salt practically feigned a red glow with a lime to garnish.

"To our rockstar!" Satoru cheered, holding up his drink.

"To the rockstar!" You and Shoko repeated, clinking drinks with him before taking a sip.

You winced, the burn from the alcohol and the spice clashing against your already parched throat. Maybe you should have had just a little bit of water before a liquid fire alcoholic drink.

"I'm gonna go try to find a water bottle or something backstage. I know Uraume is working their ass off so I'm not gonna bother them. I'll be right back." You waved at Gojo and Shoko, sifting yourself through the mixed crowd of college kids.

Once you managed to part the sea and make it into the sparsely populated hallway, you breathed a sigh of relief and made it back towards the supply closet that was your "dressing room" for the entire band. It was a sorry excuse for one, with a small side table littered with water bottles and a few fruit snacks along with two bean bag chairs and a clothing rack for nights where there were multiple performances.

You shoved the door open after a little bit of effort, turning on the overhead light by the chain. You jumped when another presence was revealed in the room, leaning back against the bean bag chair with his eyes closed. It was obviously Choso, snapping his head up lazily with a grimace that someone had disturbed him.

"Oh, it's you." You said, awkwardly shuffling over to the table and grabbing a water bottle. You traded your drink for that, taking a long sip. "You disappeared after the show. I wanted to congratulate you on how well you did. I couldn't have pulled that last stunt without you."

Choso blinked, shrugging his shoulders. "You did all the heavy lifting."

"Actually, you did all the heavy lifting. You wouldn't let me have it any other way." You joked, taking a seat in the bean bag chair beside him.

He grinned, a real one this time. He was clutching his own water bottle. "Just trying to be a gentleman for a change."

"Do you think Geto will try to come back and show me up after that?" 

"Not a chance." 

You both shared a comfortable giggle, taking a sip from your waters. He was the first to speak again. "Sorry I disappeared. I always wait for the crowd to disperse before coming back out."

"Oh, so that's why I've never seen you before. I thought that maybe you just left immediately after all the time. Gojo told me you weren't really a party guy." You dawdled on, really just desperate for more genuine conversation with him. There was something about Choso that made you want to crack him open and know everything there was to know about him. It was no doubt the mystery aspect that he shrouded himself in.

He shook his head. "I'm not. Sukuna and Suguru always drag me to the parties, especially now that Suk's the frat president. I can't escape them, so I usually go smoke or sit it out in one of their bedrooms to keep my head on straight. I'm not a huge drinker."

"So you smoke instead?"

He nodded. You finished your water, thinking about what to say next.

"But why play in a band that lives and breathes in bars and frat houses?" You asked, picking up your alcoholic drink and taking a sip.

Choso shrugged. "Playing the bass is fun, and my friends would never let me hear the end of it if I quit now. Plus, it does get me out of the house and away from my studies. I want to be a good example for my younger brothers."

That's right. Choso had a lot of siblings. "Yeah, how are they?"

His smile was warm at recalling them, pulling out his wallet and flipping the cover up. Where his driver's license was supposed to be was replaced with a picture of what looked to be high school students with him in the middle. He didn't look tired in the picture, and his hair was shorter. He must have just started college. "Eso is a senior in high school this year, and Kechizu just started his freshman year. Yuji will be starting middle school."

"I bet they're really lucky to have you." You muttered, taking a closer look by scooting your beanbag over.

"It helped me mature, that's for sure." Choso nodded, putting his wallet away. "I'd do anything for them."

You both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, not staring at one another, but the air was charged. He was doing that thing again, acting like he was just on the brink of saying something. You took a sip of your drink to cut through it, sinking further into the chair.

"Don't you want to get back out there and bask in your limelight?" Choso finally spoke, turning to glance at you.

You laughed, finishing your drink. "I'm not the biggest fan of crowds either. I have no problem with this being just a one-time thing."

Choso's look caught in the corner of your eyes. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, lip twitching in a frown. Was he disappointed by that? You figured Geto's jealousy would overcome his pride after tonight with all of the rage, but you also knew Choso was hoping that wouldn't be the case.

"But if there ever comes a point where Geto goes back into his emo hole again, I wouldn't be opposed to stepping back in." You said with a cat's grin.

His frown smoothed out into something more content, leaning back in his chair. "I'm glad."

You went to speak to him more, to drag more out of him. However, fate had other plans for the two of you.

Your name rang out from the other side of the door in the hallway, causing you both to jump in response. Your neck snapped to the door, and you sighed. It was definitely Gojo's voice. Well, you have been gone for about twenty minutes or so now. At least he was being a good friend and coming looking for you.

"I guess that's your cue." Choso offered you another smile.

"Don't you wanna join?" You blurted and offered him the same.

He shook his head, sinking further into the chair in protest. "No way. I know Sukuna's probably on his fifth drink by now, and I tend to avoid him after three." 

You laughed, standing up and opening the door. "Well, if I don't see you again to play, then I'll see you at the next show." You said, peering over your shoulder at him. 

There was that same tinged pink color painting his cheeks along his band marking. He glanced away with a nod. "Yeah, I guess I'll see you then."

You stepped outside of the supply closet, closing the door behind you. Satoru almost ran directly into the side of you. You both grunted, stumbling slightly. He was much drunker than when you originally talked to him. He was elated to see you, squealing and swinging you around. "Where have you been?! We've been looking everywhere!"

You blushed, shrugging your shoulders. "I went looking for water and ran into Choso. We got caught up in conversation."

He gasped, pulling you in closer. "Ohhh, so you were making out in the supply closet, huh?"

You wretched, shoving him slightly. "Quit being gross. I wouldn't have my first kiss with him in a damn supply closet if anything."

"So you would kiss him?"

Now you were backed into a corner. Classic Satoru. "Dude, let's just go get another fucking drink." You urged him back into the crowd, and he grabbed your hand and dragged you along. 

You weren't sure where this was going to go. With Choso, that is. He was so enigmatic. You craved more of him. You would attend every single show of Cursed near or far, even without Satoru or Shoko, if it meant slipping into another back closet to have a conversation with him. Now, did Choso feel the same? Probably not, he might just be trying to be nice since you were just some stupid girl fumbling around on a guitar who just happened to surprise the crowd. It's not like the band was his life. 

God, please get over yourself and just go get drunk.

Chapter Text

It had been two days since the show at Shrine. You spent most of your time since then buckling back down on your studies and keeping to yourself. You noticed people were a lot friendlier to you in classes, sororities began reaching out, and the teasing that Satoru and Shoko were still having you endure would last well into your nursing home days. It was just one show, that was what you would say over and over again like a broken record. It's not like you're the new guitarist or anything.

Your Tuesday evening was marked by a delivery pizza and a liter of soda when someone banged on the door, and jumped you from your binge watching of some cliche reality TV show, yelling as you rolled off the couch, "Just a second!". You only had your morning lab on Tuesdays, so it was usually a bed dedicated to bedrotting until Shoko got home. You had no idea who it could be. Satoru was out playing baseball with Nanami and Haibara, and Shoko was in class.

You pulled your tank top back from its crooked position, tucking it into your sleep pants before opening the door.

It was Sukuna, arms crossed and already looking beyond annoyed.

You blinked, confused. "Oh, hey." 

"Yeah, good to see you too." He muttered, welcoming himself inside and finding his way to the couch.

"Come on in, I guess." You followed him, sitting down beside him. "Is there a reason you're here, or did you get booted from the frat house? I doubt you'd come to me looking for asylum."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a smartass." He began, propping his feet up on the table. "I'm here because we're in a stalemate. Geto hasn't spoken a word to anyone since the show. I guess he heard about all the buzz you created and got his feelings even more hurt." 

You cocked a brow. You could feel where this was going, and you didn't like the looks of it.

"We need a guitarist, and we can't keep recycling and then begging to a ghost." Sukuna was looking away, almost sheepish with his next words. "You were... Tolerable. That move you pulled got the crowd heated, and that's the kind of energy we need for Cursed. We want you full-time."

"I can't." You immediately followed up his words, arms covering yourself now. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I wish I could, but something like that just isn't made for me. I put all of my eggs into doing that show. I would burn out so fast if I did something like that every weekend. Plus, my grades would tank and I'm doing well to even graduate cum laude."

Sukuna groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest of the couch. "I'm not asking, I'm telling. I'm not going to stroke your ego anymore for it either."

"Sukuna, I can't."

"Choso's apart of the band and he's going to graduate in phlebotomy with fucking honors! It's doable! Just say you're scared." He retorted, now turned to you on the couch.

Your cheeks heated, out of what you couldn't tell. It would be a better way to get closer to Choso without it almost coming off as stalkerish. It would also be a good thing to add to your resume. As of right now, you had no extracurriculars or clubs to wow your future employers with. But it still wasn't lost on you that this could create a whole new world of drama with not only your friends, but with Geto, with possibly Choso, it was a loaded gun.

"I'm not scared. I'm worried about the consequences that would come with it. Do you not think Geto would totally have it out for me?"

"We would make sure that wouldn't happen. Besides, I'm sure he's too busy hoarding himself in his room to even come to any of the shows. It would be a stain on his pride, and you know he doesn't do well with those."

"I'm also not the best at your kind of music."

Sukuna hunched out of frustration, pinching his temples together. "I know! You wouldn't even have had this fucking gig if it wasn't for pigtails!"

You paused, eyes blowing wide and eyebrows furrowing. Your mouth opened to speak, then closed, then opened again. "What do you mean by that?"

"Mahito and I were all on board for Haibara to be the fill-in, but Choso was so insistent on making you the guitarist, you'd think he was rooting for a chance to get into your panties," Sukuna explained, annoyed the whole while. "He wouldn't let up, so Mahito caved, leaving me to be the odd man out per usual. I told him he owned me fifty bucks if you got cold feet by the end of it."

So Choso never hated you to begin with, and it sounds like he actually liked you. You were getting it all wrong this whole time. Did he like you back, and you were just too dumb to realize?

“Why didn’t he say anything?” You asked softly.

Sukuna peeled a pillow he had grabbed off his face with an annoyed grunt. “Because he’s emotionally constipated and allergic to vulnerability like the rest of us. He probably thought it was enough to shove you into the spotlight and hope you’d get it yourself."

You still took time to think about it, still mulling over your grades and what all could go south if you took this up, but at the end of it, the excitement of Choso possibly liking you overruled all logic.

"Okay, so do I have to buy a guitar or something?" 

Sukuna barked a laugh. "You really are a sack of rocks. You know Choso is going to oh so graciously offer up his again."

You couldn't help but laugh with him, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Alright, this is what you're gonna do. You're gonna meet us at the indoor pool tonight at ten. I know, it's closed, but we're sneaking in. You gotta get christened before you're officially a part of the band."

"Christened? Like, I should bring a swimsuit?"

"Exactly." Sukuna stood up, stretching and making his way to the door.

"Well, okay, I guess, I mean I'm not a goody two shoes in that sense. I don't care about breaking into the pool." You followed him to the door, opening it for him. 

He shrugged, stepping outside. "See you then, princess." He didn't say it in an affectionate way, but in a tone that leaked condescension. Great. As he walked away, Shoko was walking down the hall, a puzzled look on her face at the sight of him. She waited until he was gone, walking toward you. "Am I hallucinating, or was that Sukuna?"

You smiled, chuckling. "No, uh, I'm actually the guitarist for Cursed now."

-

You stood outside the doors to the university's indoor pool with a duffle bag in hand, your cardigan draping over your swimsuit and jeans for the chill in the air. Alright, it was ten fifteen, and no one was giving you any sort of signal that they were here.

Right as you were about to give up and head home, the door jarred open. You whipped your head around to find Mahito grunting to push the door the rest of the way. "Sorry! Sukuna forgot his bolt cutters!"

You walked down the hallway with him, only illuminated by the fluorescents of the emergency lights that shone off the tiles. At the entrance to the pool, Sukuna could be seen stripping off his hoodie with his markings on his face. Mahitos and Choso's were on too. Choso was in a pair of regular shorts, his legs in the pool, with a tank top on. You could really see his arms now. A speaker was set behind Sukuna playing some numetal songs, a styrofoam cooler no doubt filled with seltzer or liquor beside it.

"There you are!" Sukuna said, jumping into the pool and coming up. He pushed back his wet hair, swimming over to where you were at the shallow end. "Alright, get in, but don't get below your waist, not yet." 

You shucked off your cardigan, setting it on top of your bag along with your ripped jeans. You followed Sukuna's orders, carefully slipping into the pool. It was cold, stiffening your hips with a whine of protest.

"Cold?" Sukuna smirked, gesturing you closer to him. "Mahito! Get the Sharpie!"

Mahito scurried over to where the cooler was, opening it and pulling out a Sharpie. Choso scooted closer to where you were, and Mahito handed off the Sharpie to Sukuna before diving in and bobbing back up with a laugh.

"Alright numb nuts, we're here today to induct our newbie. Along with that, she needs some markings." Sukuna's canines showed with his toothy grin, popping off the lid to the pen. 

You rolled your eyes and groaned. First, you had to participate in this frat-esque induction ceremony, and now you found out you were indeed going to have to wear some form of weird markings to all of the shows. Just another tedious step to add to your makeup routine.

Sukuna tilted your head up by your chin before getting to work on your face. You felt him draw a line on your forehead, connected to your mid-brow, then traced down to the middle of your bottom lid, stopping at the apple of your cheek. You could feel a pair of eyes on you, glancing to the corners of them to catch Choso staring. You managed a small smile, looking back down at the water. With a few more touch-ups, he called his work done, tossing the Sharpie towards Choso's direction outside of the pool.

"Put your hands over your chest." He instructed, and you did as you were told. His hand came to your back, and his other arm outstretched to address the two. "While I don't have a lot of faith in this one here, she's proven herself on the stage, and our original guitarist is being a little bitch. So tonight-" Sukuna spoke your full name, placing his free hand over your crossed arms. He dunked your full body in like a classic baptism, bringing you back up. "You're now officially a part of Cursed." 

When you came back up, Mahito was hooting and hollering around the water like a child. Choso gave a nod and a ghost of a smile. Meanwhile, Sukuna immediately swam over to the other side of the pool to dig in his cooler for a few beers. You took this as your chance to swim over to Choso, who still only had himself in the water up to his shins. 

"Are you not going to get in?" 

He shook his head, leaning against his hands. "I don't like getting wet."

"He's actually just trying to look cool for you. He gets in all the time when we do this normally." Sukuna piped up, cracking open a beer on the sidelines.

Choso scoffed, crossing his arms, though he didn't deny it. You just smiled, leaning against the pool wall in the water. "You don't have to act cool for me. I already know you're a nerd."

He snapped his head to you, cheeks blazing up in a peachy pink. "Wha-?" He began, making you laugh. 

"Come on, phlebotomy major? You gotta be a pretty big nerd to make good grades in that." You mentioned, remembering Sukuna's words from earlier today.

Choso was about to shoot back, but Sukuna yelled your name to cut him off. "Come over here and get a beer! It's no fun when you're sober."

You swam back over to the other side of the pool, hopping out and standing up. You were dripping wet, and sure that your markings were dripping down your cheeks like Sukuna's. He handed you two cans. "One for loverboy." He teased, then leaned closer to you with his voice lower. "Push him in, and I'll owe you a favor."

You glanced back at Choso, who was wading his feet in the water, back to staring at the ripples it made. Sukuna leaned like the devil on your shoulder, a smile to match. You rolled your eyes, glancing back at him. "Just because I wanna see his face." You murmured to him, and Sukuna cawed a laugh.

Once you were back over to Choso, you set the beers down beside him, but stood back up. "I hate to ask you this, but do you mind retying the back of my swimsuit? My hands just get all tied trying to do it backwards."

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Choso's face back up in a hue once more. He hesitated at first, his pupils blown from shock. Still, he slowly stood, both of his hands almost trembling to reach for the back of your swimsuit.

Just before he was able to get a grab on it, you pivoted around, grabbing him by both shoulders and with all your might, flinging him into the pool. And yes, it was totally worth seeing his face of utter shock and betrayal before his head met the water.

When he came back up all three of you were laughing, holding your stomachs. Choso grimaced, swimming back over to the edge. "That was so rude." No malice was actually put behind it, slight annoyance if anything.

Your laugh simmered to a snicker, reaching your hand out to him to help him out of the pool. "I can't be nice to you all the time."

Choso took your hand, and before you could speak again, you were yelping from being jerked headfirst into the freezing water.

You surfaced, sputtering water and trying to glare at him, but it was hard to look mad when he was laughing. He was actually laughing. It wasn't just a chuckle or a halfhearted sputter, but full-on belly laughter like you were just doing moments ago. 

"Sorry, but that hand was all too gullible not to take advantage of." He grinned and swam back over to the side to open his beer.

"Don't worry, I'll get you back for it eventually." You made your empty threat and cracked open your own to take a sip. You spent that moment drinking the piss water and hoped your subtle cringes weren't being noticed by the awful taste.

The room fell into silence besides the sound of the metal music from the speakers. Mahito had made his home floating on his back, and Sukuna was perched at the steps of the shallow end, chugging back beer after beer. It felt weirdly natural. You thought back to what Sukuna said, about Choso being the only reason you were picked in the first place. It was such an odd feeling, to have a crush again. You don't remember having one of those on a real person since middle school. You had been too busy dragging yourself through high school and college academics to even care.

"I wanted to thank you." You began, glancing over to Choso. "Sukuna told me about you advocating for me, mainly because I was arguing about becoming a part of the band."

Choso shook his head. "It's nothing. I was just picking the top candidate."

"Yeah, but you went against Sukuna to do it, and I know I definitely wasn't the most charismatic of everyone."

Choso snorted, finishing his beer. "Maybe to you, or Sukuna, but I liked your vibe. I also knew you could be easily trained."

"Trained?" 

"For the stage and shit. It wouldn't take you much to actually accept the limelight. I know it's not easy, and you saw that Saturday night, but once you got on the stage, it was like a flip switch. You became Johnny Knoxville and showed your ass, which is what Sukuna wants. Sure, Haibara or the others would have been a proper one-time understudy, but I knew we would ultimately be picking a long-term member, which you were better suited for." Choso explained, setting his empty beer can on the side.

You couldn't help but blush at all of the ego stroking, forcing yourself to finish your own drink. "Well, you still deserve my thanks."

"Alright! Show's over! Uraume said campus police are making their rounds." Sukuna called, packing up his cooler and turning off the speaker.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dragging yourself out of the pool. "Do you have them out there keeping watch?"

"Yeah, so what?" He muttered, throwing his shirt over his shoulder. 

Uraume was so young, you wished Sukuna and his family would let them live a little more freely. It must have been almost midnight by now, and surely they had homework to do.

"Rehearsal is on Thursday at six again, by the way. Don't be late." Sukuna added, walking off with Mahito, who gave you a wave.

"See you Thursday!" He chimed, running off down the hall. 

You threw back on your jeans, keeping your cardigan off for now until your bottoms dried. Choso tied his hair into a half-do, walking over to the back door with you. "Need a walk home?"

"I mean, it's just a walk across campus." You said like you weren't dying to say yes. You have to play this cool. He's cool, you're cool. You're both cool.

"Yeah, and you're in a bikini top. Let me walk you." He said it without the judgment that would usually come from a statement like that, picking up your duffle bag for you. 

It was starting to get cold on these early September nights, and the air met your damp skin with teeth. You tried to shake off the shiver, walking towards your dorm with Choso. You didn't want to ruin your good cardigan's material by getting it wet. You always had a hard time discerning what was dry clean only or not.

"You cold?" Choso cut through your thoughts.

You shook your head. "It's only September. I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes, shucking off the hoodie he put on and tossing it on your shoulder. "You don't have to act badass." His tank top was back on underneath, still damp. The hoodie smelled faintly of chlorine and something smokier.

"Come on, now you'll be cold and I'll feel bad."

"And then what kind of gentleman would I be?"

You blushed, grunting in faux annoyance before sliding the hoodie on. It was still warm from his body heat, aiding you in the chill. "Thanks."

The walk passed quickly, too quickly. When your dorm building came into view, your steps slowed. You reached for the hem of his hoodie, already slipping it off your shoulders to hand it back.

Choso put a hand on your shoulder, caging you from it. "Keep it. You'll see me Thursday." He assured, putting a hand on his hip in front of you.

You grinned, leaning against your dorm door. "Thank you for walking me back. You've been a prime gentleman tonight despite my mischief." 

"I got you back." 

There it was again. That tension that you shared all too often for the short amount of time you've known each other, like all of his words were some sort of double entendre. He handed your duffle bag back to you that he had been carrying, and you accepted it into your hands. You didn't even have his number and you were acting like smitten schoolkids.

"Do you think I could nab your number? I have Mahito's from a class project, and I have Sukuna's from the original callback, but I still don't have yours." You pointed out.

"Right." He muttered, pulling out his phone and you mimicked his actions.

He spoke his phone number, and you typed it into a contact before slipping him a text and putting your phone back into your pocket. "I'll see you Thursday then." You bid, glancing back and unlocking the door.

He nodded, a final grin offered. "See you Thursday."

Chapter Text

"You coming to Sukuna's party tonight?"  You sent the text with bated breath, chewing furiously on your lip.

"Dude, calm down, you know he's going to be there." Shoko tried to assure you, struggling with a false eyelash on one of her eyes in your bathroom. 

"Yeah, but he hates crowds, and if there's no show, then he might not. Sukuna said we wouldn't play since it's an Aloha party and it would ruin the vibe." You rolled your eyes, touching up your lip liner.

"You're down so bad." Shoko teased, turning to you. "He wears nail polish from two weeks ago, and you're over here putting on press-ons for the first time since high school."

You grunted, grimacing. "It's not for him. It's the first party of the year." It was such an obvious lie. You were totally smitten with him. At rehearsal, he gave you his electric guitar "indefinitely", and for the past few shows, you've tried to mix up some sort of throw for the Bulls and the Bronx solo. The crowds were all over you, and more than just Sukuna and Mahito were realizing your chemistry.

Still, the two of you were oblivious to it all, trying desperately to keep it to a shaky line between platonic and something a little... More.

"Let's go, I think we look slutty enough," Shoko said, grabbing her purse and walking towards the door. 

That's what Aloha parties were all about. Bikini tops with leis and shorts that were way too short. Sugary jungle juice that would give you a hangover that would haunt you from ever getting that drunk again for months. And don't even get started on the one-night stands and fights that can break out at major frat events like this.

You paused mid-step when your phone buzzed in your back pocket, immediately whipping it out and turning it on to scan down the line of notifications.

"I'll go if you're going."

Your stomach tumbled into a flip with the three seltzers and shot of vodka that had already made their home inside of there, gripping it slightly.

Shoko turned, her hand on the doorknob. "What is it? Gonna throw already?"

You shook your head, just turning your phone around and showing her the screen.

She laughed, waving you off. "Yeah, there's no more pretending that you guys aren't something other than just friends anymore if you're reacting this way to a text." She argued, opening the door and heading towards her car. "Now come on, so you can show him how hot you look."

-

Strobe lights blinked from left to right in a myriad of colors along the creaky hardwood floors of Pi Kappa Alpha. You had no idea if this was your third or your fourth drink, but who was keeping count anyway? You had pregamed, too. It had been a while since you even caught sight of Shoko, and you were in the middle of sneaking your way to the bathroom to pee, throw up, or both.

You hadn't even seen Choso yet. He didn't respond after you texted that you were indeed going to be here. You made a passing greeting to Sukuna, who just threw you up in the air before making some slurred speech about how he was excited you were here and then disappearing into the crowd once more with two girls in tow. You had also seen Mahito in passing, but he was too busy showing off how he had dressed up Dagon like Elvis to notice you. 

Where was Choso? Well, you knew where he was. He was definitely upstairs with Ino and the other smokers. You just needed to find your way to the stairs, and that was the hard part right now. You had the vision of a house fly.

You were waving to Nanami when you ran into the chest of someone, tall and dark. You made a soft "oof" sound, sloshing your red solo cup of jungle juice just enough for it to spill on the victim's feet. You squealed, covering your mouth with your hand. "Sorry!"

When you looked up, though, your eyes squinted in disbelief.

"You know I never thought you'd actually do it." The voice cut through the crowd easily, mainly just because you hadn't heard it in so long.

Suguru Geto.

He was still like a shadow, his eyes darker than you remembered. Something must have happened between him leaving the band and now, something much worse than you might have originally thought. His vibe was just... Off.

Still, you weren't going to let him ruin a good night. You gathered yourself to the best of your ability. "Do what? Outperform you?"

He laughed, sharp and short. "Come on, let's not humor one another. Besides, I'm not here to be hostile, I'm here to offer you asylum." Suguru approached you closer so he could lower his volume, bringing you to the sidelines of the crowd. "You can drop out of Cursed now. I'm ready to take back my spot. Y'know, I'm sure you're very empathetic towards my struggle with mental health."

You were trying desperately to soak his words in, plus, doing this drunk was such a low blow, and dropping out of Cursed? Why would he want to be back in Cursed now anyway? You obviously had the favor of the crowd now. You couldn't really imagine being apart from it. Cursed had scored you your popularity, you're frenemy situation with Sukuna of all people, and most importantly, whatever it was that you had going on with Choso. 

Oh Choso. That beautiful little man. Where was he when you needed him most? Oh, don't kid yourself, he definitely wasn't setting foot out of that upstairs bedroom to try and wade through this crowd to find you.

"Too stunned to speak?" Geto brought you back from your thoughts, and instead, you sneered at him.

"Dude, get lost. I wouldn't dream of giving up a role like this." You retorted, holding your drink close to your chest. 

You could see the look in Geto's eyes shift, something more venomous and sinister. "Watch that tongue. With a few more drinks, you might just give anyone anything they want without even asking."

You were about to bite back the bile in your throat at his threat and throw a fist or two, but a body stepped in between the two of you.

It was Choso, glaring down at Geto with a grimace. "I don't remember you being invited, Geto."

Geto swallowed, obviously stunned by Choso, but his posture stayed solid. "And I don't think I can remember the last time you actually showed your face at a party of more than five, Choso."

"Quit harassing her for your role back. It won't do any good. Sukuna already told you no." 

"He said it was no from him, but if she gave it up, well, his hands would be tied."

"And you want to rejoin a band that hates you... Why?"

“This band was my life,” Geto said, voice tight with conviction. “I didn’t deserve to lose it just because of a rough patch. A breakdown shouldn’t be a death sentence. You of all people should know that.”

Choso's eyes narrowed. Something about that last phrase struck a different chord. "Mental break or not, you ghosted us. You left without a word and refused to open up." Choso spat and stepped forward to him, looming and threatening. "Now get out of her before I tell security to haul your ass out and cause a scene."

Geto bit his cheek, looking at Choso and then back at you over his shoulder. He called your name. "Be careful who you trust." He said in a singsong tone, slipping back through the crowd and between two fraternity brothers before completely being gone. Choso kept his eyes on him the whole while, turning his head like a hawk on a hunt.

Once he deemed it safe enough, he turned to you, both hands on your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him. Geto's last words had left you just as fast as they came to you. He was so damn pretty. He had his hair pulled back into that half-do with a purple band shirt and ripped jeans. His combat boots added almost two extra inches to him, too. He smelled faintly of weed and some cologne you couldn't put your finger on. God, he was perfect. 

"Mhm, I'm perfectly fine." You slurred, half-lidded eyes and goofy smile to match. "Now that you're here."

He gave a half grin, taking your hand into his. It was so big against yours. "Let's get you to a bathroom with some water. Where's Shoko?" 

"Dunno."

He sighed, pulled you through the swaths of the party crowd, and up the stairs to Sukuna's bedroom. No one was in there, so his ensuite bathroom had no line. 

"Alright, sit right here." Choso positioned you on the closed toilet lid, sliding the small trash bin out from the side of the toilet and putting it in front of you. "I'm gonna go grab you some water."

You did as you were told, leaning your head against the cold wall of the bathroom for some solace against the spins. Everything felt like it was moving, and when saliva flooded into your mouth, you knew you were done for. You were going to have to throw up, and hopefully fast before Choso gets back with water.

The first contents came up easily, but it was getting harder with every wretch and gag. Just when you felt yourself get to the last of your episode, you felt a warm hand gather up your hair and hold it up and away from your face. You groaned, a few more dry wretches leaving you before you fumbled around for some toilet paper and wiped your face off. 

"Got everything out?" He asked, sliding the trash bin away from you and gently letting your hair fall back down. You heard the twist of a cap before a bottle of water came into view. "Drink this slow, don't chug it."

You took a slow sip, feeling the cold water soothe the back of your throat. Choso's hand lingered down to your upper back, rubbing along your shoulder blades and up around the balls of your shoulder. He felt so nice, everything about him was so nice. You didn't deserve someone like him, some mysterious man who liked no one ended up liking you of all people.

You looked up at him, smiling. You said it without thinking, still clearly drunk. "Can I kiss you?"

His face dropped, and it was almost like you could see the flaming red crawl up his neck and spread all along his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out. He was shocked by your words.

"I mean, like, maybe after I get a piece of gum of cours-No." He interrupted you, bending down to get on your level.

You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. "But, I thought- I do." He cut into your words once more, though his expression remained unwavering. He was obviously in an awkward position. "But you're plastered. I'm not going to kiss you." He gestured to the water bottle, making you take another sip.

You pouted, taking another sip of your water. "Then a peck on the cheek?" You tried to bargain, standing up before stumbling into the bathroom wall. 

"No." He said, plain and simple. He took you into his arms, helping you stay steady. "When we kiss for the first time, I want you to at least be able to remember it. I've seen too many girls get taken advantage of at parties like this, and I won't be a part of that. Not with you, especially." 

You whimpered, shoving your face into his shirt. "But you wouldn't be taking advantage of me, I want it."

Choso grunted, exasperated, before taking your chin into his fingers to make you look up at him. Every time you did, you couldn't help but feel your cheeks burn with a smile. 

"I said no. Ask me tomorrow when you're sober, and I'll be more than happy to. I promise."

You still sighed, and he let your face fall back into his chest. He began to guide you back into Sukuna's bedroom, letting you rest on the bed. "Stay here and rest until Shoko comes looking for you. I don't wanna see you move and get into more trouble."

"But don't you want to get back to the party?" You muttered, your voice muffled by the fabric of Sukuna's pillow. The whole bed smelled like beer and frat guy. That didn't matter to you right now. Choso was sitting beside you on the bed, his torso propped up and arms crossed. He was on guard duty now.

"You really think I care more about a party than you?" 

You giggled, nudging him slightly before shrugging. "I don't know, I assume you get all the ladies with that persona you've got going on."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Go to sleep."

You laughed, but you were more than ready to get some rest. In fact, you don't even remember how you fell asleep. You remember waking up momentarily at one point to what you think was Sukuna's voice, and maybe Choso's, but after that, everything else was completely lost to you. 

And the morning sun was never your friend after nights like these.

It was half covered by the sheet Sukuna had put up as an excuse for a curtain, with slivers of sunlight battering at your eyes. You groaned, sitting up with shaky arms and crusty eyelids. All of your eye makeup must have been halfway down your face by now, and you genuinely had no idea where you were until you felt the body beside you move and mutter to itself. That's when you were wide awake.

You jerked your head, getting a glimpse of messy dark hair and a shirtless body. No, you knew that hair from anywhere, and the red ink of arrows in an intricate pattern on the nape of his neck. That was Choso, no doubt, but whose bed was this? What time was it? Did the two of you do anything?

Your phone was on seven percent in your purse at the side of the bed, lit up with five missed calls and an army of texts from Shoko.

"Where are you?"

"Sukuna says you're up in his room with Choso. True story?"

"We couldn't get you awake, and I don't really want to sleep over at this jackass's house. Call me in the morning asap p lease."

You groaned to yourself, texting her back with the last little bit of percentage you had.

"All good. Choso's here, and I trust that nothing horrible happened. Don't EVER let me get this wasted again."

You wanted to say that you felt like throwing up, but there must have been nothing left to throw up. You just sat there with the hangover spins, eyebrows furrowed in pain, putting the pillow over your head. You were still in your stupid bikini top from last night, but your lei had been taken off, and your shorts were still in place. 

Movement came from the side of you, Choso grunting before turning his head your way. You lifted the pillow up slightly, just enough to meet eyes with him. 

"I take it you're alive?"

You wanted to throw the pillow at his head, but the looming threat of the thought that you did something more than embarrassing last night prevented you. Still, you were close enough with him by now that you could ask outright. "Did we have sex or anything?"

That woke him up. He choked on his own spit, a hand flying to his face out of embarrassment or something else. "No, no, we didn't have sex. You were plastered beyond belief. You threw up a few times, but that's the extent of it." You could almost hear the disappointment in his voice, and you couldn't help but see it as slightly endearing.

"I'm assuming I'm still at Pike?" You asked, slowly removing the pillow from your head. With a better look around the room, you could tell it was Sukuna's. Black walls, maroon comforter, posters of bands way too metal and gross for your taste, hung haphazardly on the walls.

He nodded. "After arguing back and forth with Sukuna and Shoko, she finally agreed to leave, and Sukuna agreed to let you have the room. Neither of them was gonna let you leave, even with me, promise."

You couldn't help but smirk. "Oh, but they'll let you sleep with me in bed?"

He sighed, his face turning red. "Don't make it out to be so bad. It was only because I fell asleep watching over you."

"Was I that wild?"

Choso shook his head. "No, but Geto was lurking around. Do you remember that?"

You blinked, trying to dig through your mind for anything past that third fireball shot. It was nothing but a blur. You could hazily remember Choso helping you over the trash bin now, but a talk with Geto? You couldn't remember that one. Choso caught the hint that you were failing to remember. He sighed through his nose, leaning back on the pillow.

"If he bothers you again, you tell me. He was making what I'm sure were empty threats, but... He was being a dick." He muttered, looking towards the window.

"My knight." You joked, throwing the pillow over his chest.

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "I promised Shoko I would take you home; she took your car back to your dorm."

You nodded, raising up slowly. Every bone in your body, organs included, protested against it. A hangover was never an easy one for you, and even the smallest ones would last well into the evening before they let up. Sometimes, even standing up straight was a challenge. You were just glad you got everything out last night.

Choso helped you down the stairs, keeping you close by the arm with your purse over his shoulder. Frat guys littered the floor, some with beer bottles still in hand and others with Sharpie all over their face. Sukuna laid up on a pool float on the coffee table, his entire head hanging off the side.

You wanted to laugh, but you knew your stomach would flip if you did. "Looks like everyone had a wild night." You muttered, gently opening the front door and walking out with Choso.

You groaned at the light, shielding your eyes with your hand. "Alright, I'm Helen Keller. guide me to your car."

Choso chuckled, helping you down the front porch steps and to his car, parked in the side yard with a few other jacked-up trucks. He opened the passenger door for you, allowing you to get inside before hopping into the driver's seat.

"Here." He popped open the sunglasses compartment overhead, grabbed a pair of black shades from it, and handed them to you. 

"Thanks." You slid them on, feeling much better protected from the sun's rays.

The drive was silent for a while, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional bird screaming too loudly for this hour. You couldn’t help yourself. "So… what exactly did Geto say?"

Choso bristled, his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel. “Same old manipulative crap. Wanting back in, saying you should give up your spot, some nonsense about mental health and being misunderstood. Typical gaslighting.”

"God, he's so emo." 

He laughed as he pulled into one of the parking spots of your dorm. "Should I walk you in?"

"Nah, I'll be alright." You said, getting out of the car. You leaned back in, sliding off the shades. "Oh, I guess I'd better give these back to you."

Choso held out his hand and shook his head. "Keep them, you need them for the walk up." He advised, but then he paused. He was unable to look you in the eyes, staring straight ahead. "Besides, they look a lot better on you."

Your face heated, and your grip on his car door tightened. "Thanks. I'll uh- I'll give them back to you at the next rehearsal."

"Don't be shocked if it's a hard one." He mentioned, finally looking at you. "The homecoming game is coming up, and Sukuna's always tweaking about the post show."

You nodded, flicking him a finger gun. "Noted, see you Thursday." You were about to shut the door when Choso blurted your name, so quick you almost didn't hear it. But you caught the door just in time, peeking your head back down.

He licked his lips, cheeks flushed. "Do you wanna maybe… get coffee before rehearsal? Just us?"

If this is what asking you out on a date looked like to him, you'd take it with open arms. "Yeah, coffee sounds nice. Plus, I gotta get you back for taking care of me last night."

"Don't worry about it, I wanted to."

You grinned ear to ear, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly. "Then I'll see you at the campus cafe around six."

Choso nodded, grinning himself. "Yeah, I'll see you then."

Chapter Text

So now you stood awkwardly in the middle of the cafe on the eastern side of campus, dressed far too sweetly for a band rehearsal to follow just an hour after.

"Oh, and can I get oat milk with that?" You asked the clerk, gripping your purse, to pull out your university card and pay for your coffee through dining dollars.

After receiving your coffee, you sat down towards the far wall away from all the stressed exam crammers and crowded sorority girls, taking a sip and waiting for Choso. Admittedly, you were quite early. You hated arriving at a date later than the other person, and this was no exception. At least, you figured that this was, indeed, a date.

However, the more time passed, the more you felt your nerves begin to seep into your bones. He was just so sweet to you. What if you did or said something that ruined everything? Or what if you were someone outside of the band that he had no interest in? Well, that's not true because then he wouldn't have made that effort to keep you safe at Sukuna's party. No, because what if he just did that out of morals? Well, then why did he ask you on this coffee date? Was it a date?

"Is this seat taken?" You were snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from the straw you were nibbling on. Choso stood above you, a hot to-go coffee in hand. He was wearing a black tank top with a purple short-sleeved button-down as a cardigan, dark wash jeans, and those boots that drove you crazy. His hair was pulled into his regular two pigtails, spikier than usual. He might've put more product into keeping them to stay.

"Oh, no. Sorry, I didn't hear you walk up." You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. 

"How's classes been?" He started off, and you shrugged your shoulders. It was starting off casual.

"Miwa is keeping me on all my toes with my communication courses. She's an underclassman who seems to follow me like a shadow." You started, thinking back to the blue-haired girl. She had especially been hard on you since starting Cursed, mortified that you would fall behind on all of your group projects. "How about you? How have all the nursing courses been?"

Choso sighed, sipping his coffee. "I start some of my clinicals next week. I'm so not looking forward to it."

"Yeah, it's basically just working at a hospital without getting paid, right?" 

He nodded. "And with me concentrating on phlebotomy, I get to watch all the other actual nurses prance around and make thirty-five an hour pricking people while I do it for free."

"Yeesh, I would say I feel your pain, but the closest thing I've experienced to that is making all the school newscasts for free. It's really not that hard, but it is time-consuming." 

Choso's eyes widened. "Wait, you're in the newscasts?"

You almost choked on your drink, waving your hand. "No, no no. I make them. Miwa is usually the reporter for most of it, along with my classmates. I just stitch it all together and sometimes film."

"Man, I was about to say I just found film gold." He joked, a smirk dancing on his lips.

You giggled. "No way. I couldn't imagine getting in front of a camera like that. I still don't even know how I'm getting up on that stage sometimes."

"Yeah? Are you nervous for the homecoming game?" He asked, finishing his coffee. He was such a fast drinker. If you drank your coffee like that, you would be feeling afraid within ten minutes.

That's right. The rehearsal tonight was for the homecoming show this weekend. From what you understood, it took place on the practice field after the game, and it was the biggest show of the semester. The university actually paid you for it, thanks to Sukuna's father pulling some strings. A hundred dollars a piece would get you all the DoorDash you could dream of for midterms.

"Well, I mean, I would be lying if I tried to say no. This is definitely going to be the most people I've been in front of ever."

"Don't get cold feet. Sukuna would never let you hear the end of it until we graduate, and then he would probably bring it up again at our ten-year." 

You laughed and shook your head. You wouldn't dream of backing out, especially when everyone was counting on it. "No, I couldn't do that to Gojo or Shoko. They're both banking on me to show my ass again and woo the whole county."

Choso snorted. He glanced off like he was trying to picture it in his head. An amused smile curved his lips. "Yeah. I've overheard a few times that he thinks you're gonna crowd surf during your solo tonight." 

"I keep telling him to stop telling people that. I'm not gonna do it, and he's gonna end up jinxing me. I'll probably trip over Sukuna's mic wire and eat the floor now." 

Choso leaned forward just slightly, forearms resting on the sticky cafe table. “Even if you did, you’d still be cooler than all three of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There it was again. That softness he reserved just for you. It was so casual the way he said it, like it wasn’t even up for debate.

You stirred your drink for no reason other than to look down and hide the grin forming on your face. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

He shrugged. "I'm right." 

You didn't want to ruin the tender moment, but you weren't going to sit here and soak in the tension until it became awkward. You had to keep talking. "So, what about you? Are you nervous at all about this one?"

"Not really. The one we played last year was smooth sailing." He explained. "I just hope Geto won't be there. I know he probably will, and I can't help that, but I also know he gets under your skin just as much as mine."

You nodded, leaning back on your chair. You were just about finished with your own drink. "He's such a weirdo. Who wants to be in a band that hates him now? It has to be just some sort of ego complex."

"It's because he gave up Gojo for this. He probably cut contact with his parents for this, too. It was the right idea, but all the wrong executions. He messed up by ghosting us and leaving us to scramble right at the first show of the semester. However, there's no way he's getting back in, not if I can help it." He rambled, tapping his fingers against his empty coffee cup. "Sukuna's still irate with him anyway, and he definitely prefers you more."

You looked down at your phone, and you noticed that you were about fifteen minutes out from rehearsal.

"Speaking of Sukuna, we should probably get going." You mentioned showing him the time on your phone.

He promptly stood up. "Let me drive you." 

You chuckled, tossing your empty coffee cup. "If we keep showing up and leaving places together, people are gonna think we're dating."

It was meant to be a gauge, a bait, just to see where yours and Choso's relationship fell in terms of romantic or platonic. It was obvious that there was some form of tension seeping between the cracks every time the two of you were alone. If this fell flat on its face, then, well, you could let it keep you up at night later.

He glanced back at you, holding the door to the cafe open. "Would that be a bad thing?"

You paused in the doorway, craning your neck up. You must have been smiling like an idiot, but you tried to play it cool and shrugged your shoulders. He made feigning indifference look so easy. 

"No, I don't think so."

-

Fireworks erupted into the tar of the night sky above Kaisen University, whistling and cheering whirring loudly from the huge crowd of the Kaisen University Kois. You were up in the stands with Choso, Shoko, and Gojo. Your face was streaked in war paint of navy and gold, runny from all of the sweat as the football team did their last winning lap around the field.

Choso put an arm around you, leaning in close enough for you to hear. "Sukuna's gonna call us late if we don't head out soon." 

The two of you had become closer since the cafe. It felt almost like a pass, or a revelation that it was okay to open up to the other. Choso was touchier, you were bolder in conversation. The emotions flowed when things got quiet. Everything was leading to something great.

You patted his hand and looked up at him with a nod. "Yeah, let's get a head start."

Were you still slightly dreading this show? Hell yes, but the fact that Choso had genuinely believed in you the entire time had settled your nerves much more than any joint or shot could have. You even had the solo gag planned out with him. You were going to have the guitar over on your side, and you were going to throw it at him, cue Choso looking confused, and then tossing it back to you. Everything was precisely planned out for the night to go perfectly.

You were walking down the old school paths and towards the main parking lot when Utahime stopped you. She was decked out in her own school spirit uniform of yellows and blues. She shouted your name, immediately dragging you from Choso. 

"Come celebrate at the tailgate real fast! Get me away from Gojo please!" She begged, arms wrapped around you. She already had red Solo cups in her hand and pointed into the crowd. "Shoko is with Gojo at his car and I don't wanna go near there!"

You looked over towards Choso, who had his arms crossed. He was slightly disappointed that you got pulled away from him, but he tried to wave it off. "Just make sure you're at the practice field twenty minutes beforehand, go have your fun."

"You sure you don't wanna join?" You called after him, being handed a drink by another one of Utahime's friends. The parking lot was alive with a crowd of all different kinds, tailgates being let down from jacked up trucks to have Styrofoam coolers and cornhole boards be pulled out.

He shook his head. "Not my type. See you later."

You watched him disappear into the crowd, taking a sip of your drink. You were about to follow Utahime when you were interrupted by another arm around you, giddy and undeniably Mahito. "So good to see you! Ready to shred some sick chords for the homecoming game?"

You laughed, masking the nerves with a sharp exhale. “Only if I don’t pass out first.”. Mahito just laughed and made frilly hand gestures. His grey hair had been dyed streaks of navy and golden, temporary dye, you were sure. Then he looked behind you, cocking a brow.

"Did your girlfriend already abandon you?" He asked, and when you looked behind you, you noticed that Utahime must have made her way somewhere back through the crowd. The parking lot was completely packed. Your concert had to be practically sold out.

"I guess so." You muttered. Damn, you had just got here and she had already lost you. You were going to have to buy a backpack leash for her and Shoko sooner or later.

Mahito then nudged you, eyes wide in realization. "Oh! Chug that real fast! I forgot that I still have my kick drum in the van and I can't get it out myself." He said, pointing back towards the football field. "The van is over by the locker room. Mind meeting me over there?"

"Oh, yeah sure. Give me just a second to slam it, and I'll be on the way." You gave a thumbs up to him, and he flashed one back to you.

You had gotten halfway through your drink in the sea of people when you noticed you were becoming much drunker than you should have been from some piss poor excuse of jungle juice. Your limbs suddenly felt sluggish, like you were treading through water. Your chest burned and your eyes felt heavy. At one point, you began to panic, looking around for anyone you recognized. No one was near, no Nanami, not Shoko, no one. Fuck, were you going to be able to play? What was happening to you?

You stumbled away from the crowd, nearly slipping on a patch of grass, forcing one foot in front of the other. Your thoughts began unraveling into something much more elementary. Get to Mahito. Tell him. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.

When you grew closer to the locker room, you managed to slur out Mahito's name, weaker and quieter than you had intended. On any other occasion, you would have thought you were seven drinks in by now. 

You white knuckled the corner of the locker room building, the van just in sight, but no Mahito. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears as you collapsed to the dirt, knees weak and head swimming.

You had come to terms with the fact that you had been spiked.

But by whom? No one was around you who would have spiked you. You didn't see Geto, and you didn't see any asshole like Naoya Zenin lurking about either. How could this have happened?

The world started to leak into black, and just as you were consumed by whatever drug was in your system, you felt yourself being picked up by two hands from behind.

-

The morning sun struck you down through your car window, neck painfully sore, and eyes burning. Your head began to beat on the back of your cranium the moment you stirred from your original position. God, where were you?

You were greeted with the visual of your steering wheel when you finally gained the courage to open your eyes. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows and sitting up. Still, you could hardly get the car door open before you were spilling the contents of your stomach onto the high school's back parking lot behind the stadium. How did you get here? You remember next to nothing. Were you hungover from the post-party after the show? 

Once you were done emptying everything from your stomach, you felt around for your phone, noticing your purse in the passenger seat, and fished out your phone. It was more charged than you expected it to be. You scrolled down your notifications, and you thought you were going to have to reopen the car door and thrown up nothing but acid after reading all of them.

Puke-una : 7 missed calls

Cho: 3 missed calls

Shoko: 5 missed calls

Multiple texts from Sukuna, all threatening.

Where the fuck are you?

This better be for a damn good reason.

You're chopped meat if you don't show your face soon. I need a presidential-level explanation for this.

You moved onto Choso's, your lip already beading blood from biting down on it.

Are you okay?

I don't care for the reason you skipped, just please let me know you're okay.

Please call me soon. I'm worried.

Guilt slammed into you like a speeding train. Choso hadn’t been angry, just scared. And that hurt worse. Shoko's was even more frantic, but thankfully more informational.

Why did you no-show? The concert is on hold for you.

Dude, Geto is up on this stage. Get your ass over here.

Please call me. Everyone is looking for you. Sukuna is PISSED.

I'm calling campus police in the morning if you're not here by the time I wake up.

Fuck. There was no hiding from that. You didn't want campus police on your ass with this kind of hangover. You still had no idea what had even happened from right before the game ended to right now. 

You dialed for Shoko. It only rang twice when she picked up the phone, voice hopefully calling your name.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm so sorry, what the fuck happened?"

"You're asking me what happened? I was gonna ask you what happened!"

You frowned. So Shoko didn't know either. "Dude, I swear to you all I remember is leaving the football field, and before I know it, I'm waking up in my car. Like I literally just came to ten minutes ago."

"You're in your car? But we checked there before we left." She explained. It sounded like she was making breakfast on the other line. "Sukuna's party was a total bust because of everything that happened to. He was just livid the whole night."

"Yeah, you said Geto took my place?"

"Oh yeah, and Sukuna is not happy about it, but the crowd was going crazy for the nostalgia or the reunion, I guess. I don't know. Everything just felt different, off.. Are you safe? Wait, were you drugged?"

Drugged. You tried to make sense of that, but how would you have been? You don't even remember getting a drink in the first place. "I don't know, dude. I'm safe for now. I'm about to be on my way home. I'm mortified to call Sukuna or Choso. I don't even know if I can show my face at all to anyone but you or Gojo right now."

Shoko seethed on the other end of the line, obviously from the mention of Gojo. "I don't know, steer clear of him too for right now. He thinks this was orchestrated. Geto was taunting him the whole night, and he thinks you were scared to perform in front of that many people. He totally thinks you bent the knee to Geto."

You wanted to laugh, but your mouth just paused, slightly agape at the utter disbelief. "He thinks I orchestrated? With Geto?"

Shoko hummed a 'dunno'. "Feelings are high right now. Just come home and we'll get this sorted out."

You nodded. "Okay, well, I'll just see you at the dorm and we'll try to piece together what happened from there."

"Yeah, see you then." The phone beeped as the line died, and you were left back to the silence that reeked of anxiety and nausea.

You were met yet again with Choso's missed phone calls on your call log. God, how were you going to explain this to him? He probably hated your guts by now, maybe thought you changed your mind and got cold feet when you saw the crowd. What if he thought you got way too drunk and just ditched? You felt sick again. You wanted to vomit, to cry, to wreck, but you just turned your car on. All of the emotions had somehow sewn together to create a void in your chest. You couldn't face him regardless of his feelings.

Now you were going to have to start finding new ways to avoid the new curse upon your life known as Cursed.

Chapter Text

"And you said you were going to meet him at Shrine?" Shoko nibbled on a slice of her pizza, feet propped up on the dorm's couch.

"Yeah. I don't really know why, I just didn't know where else to meet him. Plus, Shrine never gets crazy until ten o'clock. It's dead at eight." You explained, staring at the pizza you had only taken a quarter out of. You didn't have much of an appetite since that morning.

In fact, you had skillfully avoided all of the band members of Cursed. You switched up your work schedule at the cafe downtown, you arrived late to class, and sometimes left early. You just explained to your professors that it was work, and it was easy enough to believe. The only time you were almost cornered was Choso showed up to your dorm, and thankfully Shoko covered your ass and said you went home for the weekend. It broke your heart. He had messaged you a few more times, but it just made you sick to your stomach to even look at.

Are you still on campus?

Please just call me soon. We're not even mad anymore, we're worried.

After that last text, you finally mustered all the courage you had stashed over the coming day and sent a text to Sukuna. 

Can we meet at Shrine tomorrow night at eight? I promise, I'll try to explain everything I can.

He just sent back a thumbs up emoji, which you assumed was better than a "Fuck off I never want to see you again and you're out of the band" text. You didn't want to leave the band; in fact, you wanted anything but, but you also couldn't bring yourself to just stand up. You and Shoko just got Gojo to finally come around and convinced him that none of this was your intention. In fact, Gojo also assumed you had been drugged from what you described.

But being drugged just seemed so unlikely. Who would want to drug you besides Geto? You would have noticed him. Someone would have noticed him.

After trying your best to force down your slice of pizza, you headed out for Shrine. The closer you approached the establishment, the more your hands began to shake and grow clammy. You were still scared Sukuna was going to take a bite out of you, but that was honestly the worst he could do.

You stood outside despite the cold, arms vice gripping the other and staring up at the ink of the sky. You were just mulling over everything you could possibly say, breathing out until all the air had left your body as you built a script of how exactly to explain your situation.

"There you are." You turned your head, and Sukuna was a few feet away. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and pants, annoyed as ever. "Let's get this fucking over with."

In that moment, something possessed you. Heaviness swelled inside of the caverns of your chest. Maybe it was seeing him for the first time after everything had happened, or maybe it was just the fact that you had no other words anymore. The only words you had repeated over and over in your head, louder with each repeat. "It's all my fault."

Tears flowed down your cheeks, and you managed a quiet whimper before crashing into his chest and breaking out into a tantrum of sobs. You had kept a brave face for Shoko, for Gojo, for everyone else, for as long as you possibly could. Something about Sukuna and his air of indifference after basically threatening your life over text after the game was overwhelmingly relieving. He was arguably content with seeing you contrasted to Gojo's initial reluctance when Shoko sat the two of you down for a talk.

"I'm so sorry, it's all my fault." You wailed, choking in between chopped breaths. "It's all my fucking fault, I don't even know what happened. I don't remember anything from homecoming after the football game." 

Sukuna didn’t move. Not at first.

You felt his body tense under your weight, as if deciding whether to push you off or let you fall apart. But slowly, ever so slowly, his arms lifted. He hovered awkwardly at your sides before finally resting on your back, stiff and uncertain.

"Quit your crying, please, it just makes this awkward, plus you're staining my shirt." He muttered, giving gentle but hesitant pats to your back. You didn't respond, not with anything coherent, so he let you ride out your emotions. He didn't know what else he could do in that moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I-I don't know why I reacted like this. I had a speech planned out and everything." You stammered, trying to wipe your eyes and failing. 

"Stop the pity party before Romeo gets here," Sukuna said, holding you by the shoulders to force you to look up at him. "I'm sure he doesn't want to see mascara halfway down your neck."

"What?-" You began, but a car door slamming from one of the parking spots in front of the bar skewed your attention. Your neck practically snapped, and there was Choso, exiting his Miata and almost speed walking towards the two of you.

His black jacket was hanging off his shoulders, and the lavender that usually hung under his eyes had deepened into a darker violet. His hair had just been tied into a singular knot, his boots echoing into the night air the more he closed the distance between you.

"Choso." You tried to speak, but he cut you off by bringing you into a tight hug. You exhaled sharply, tears threatening to spill down to your cheeks once more.

"I thought you fucking died," He whispered into your ear, holding the nape of your neck close to him. His voice trembled, but his face stayed deadpan. He was struggling to keep his usual nonchalant composure. "We thought you were kidnapped, or taken, or just straight up killed."

You immediately wrapped your arms around him, and that's when more tears ensued. You whimpered into his shoulder. "I'm sorry I just- I don't know I thought you all would be so mad at me."

"I was." Sukuna piped up, but Choso's glare caused him to look away once more. He scoffed, walking into the bar. "I'm going to grab a drink. Join me when you quit reenacting Gone With the Wind."

"I don't want you to ever ghost like that again. That was torture." Choso said, his voice firm and cold, but his worry showed through his demeanor. 

"It just hurt. I didn't know what happened and I-I didn't want anyone to be mad. It was a hard night and a hard day. Gojo was mad at me, and that was already enough." You explained, wiping at your eyes. "I can try to explain everything to the best of my ability, but I still don't know everything that happened..."

Choso nodded, his hands on both your shoulders. He resorted to wrapping one around you as you walked in, convening with Sukuna at a booth.

That's where you tried to explain and piece together everything you possibly could. You told him about the homecoming game, about departing from Choso, and after that, there was nothing. Utahime didn't recall anything happening to you, and Mahito said he waited for you for almost ten minutes by the van until he assumed you weren't coming, so the only conclusion anyone could come to was that you were drugged. Still, you wanted to refute that. It was nearly impossible.

"I would have seen," Choso muttered, taking a quiet sip of his Coke. "I stuck to the sidelines of the crowd.. I wanted to keep an eye on you."

"And you didn't lose sight of her the entire time?" Sukuna asked, a beer in hand.

Choso went quiet, looking down at the rickety table. "I did at one point... I needed to get to the stage. I thought you would be fine."

"And I was fine! That's the thing, I don't know what happened." 

Choso and Sukuna glanced at each other, then Sukuna sighed. "Just make sure you're at rehearsal tomorrow. The last thing I want is Geto prancing around the stage again." He muttered, finishing his beer. He stood up from the booth, sliding out. "See you losers then, don't get kidnapped anymore."

You waved at him, a huge sigh of relief escaping you. Okay, so you were back on good terms with Cursed. That was the biggest goal you could have asked for. You were initially mortified that Sukuna had posted your selfie all over campus with "PHONY" written in huge font. 

Once you were alone, Choso finally sighed his own breath of relief. His arm was still around you, and his head leaned back against the booth. "I really thought you were gone, like something out of a fucking Headlines episode."

You chuckled. "Trust me. I was scared of the same thing."

But when you turned to glance at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy as they reflected the neon beer signs on the wall. He chewed on his lips, turning his head away from you. Was he crying? You furrowed your eyebrows, hunching over to get a better look at him. "Cho?"

He took another deep breath, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Sorry."

You scooted closer, dipping your head to meet his downcast eyes. “Are you crying?”

“No!” He shot back, but his voice cracked, betraying him with a tremble that made your stomach knot. “I’m not crying.”

You couldn't help but smile out of pity, rubbing his shoulder gently. "Come on. You don't gotta hide," you whispered, leaning closer to him.

He exhaled through his nose, glancing slightly at you. A tear had escaped from his left eye and trickled down his cheek. “Would you call me desperate if I asked you to come over? Just for a while?”

Your insides exploded with butterflies. Spend the night at Choso's? You didn't even know where he lived, but it was clear he was struggling with something more than just you. "I would never. Could you send me the address?"  

You were sliding out of the booth with him when he texted you the address. It tugged at the strings of guilt in your ribs to see that after a string of worried texts before it, all left unanswered.  

"I'll meet you there, okay?"  

The two of you were parked just a car away, so it was easy to just give him a wave before getting in your car. 

Choso was already there when you arrived, waiting for you at the bottom of the steps.

"Do you have roommates?" You asked, walking up the stairs with him.

"Toji was my roommate, but when he dropped out, they didn't bother to try to find me another roommate. I'm not mad about it." He unlocked the door, opening it up to the living room. 

Inside, it was dark. An LED light strip was wrapped around the circumference of the room and illuminated the black couch and coffee table. A small TV was upheld by a cheap console center with an Xbox and a Switch. The only wall decor was a Radiohead poster above the couch. 

"Sorry, I know it's not much." He muttered, slipping off his shoes and walking towards the bedroom. "The bedroom is a lot more cozy, if uh, if you're comfortable with that."

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded, slipping off your own shoes and following him into the bedroom.

He was right. The bedroom had a lot more of a "Choso" vibe to it. Black bedsheets and a desk with a PC. A beanbag chair leaned against a corner, and a small bookshelf with old college textbooks. There were a few CDs that laid in the floor beside an old boombox, and multiple posters and magazine strips from Pierce the Veil to Deftones littered the wall in skewed fashion. His guitar hung up in the corner of the wall, along with a mini keyboard.

"You know the keys too?" You asked, waiting for him to take a seat to follow suit.

He took a seat on his bed and shrugged. "Only a little. I'm learning so I can teach Itadori." He explained, resting back on his arms.

You took a seat beside him, resting in the same position. "You seem like a good big brother." You smiled, turning on your side.

However, when you uttered those words, his face seemed to fall. He sucked in a breath again like he did at the bar, glancing down at the sheets to avoid your gaze. He didn't know what to say, so he just spoke quietly. "Yeah, I was."

"Were?" Your heart sank, possibilities beginning to fill your head. "What do you mean were?"

His eyes turned glassy again. He closed them in order to avoid the tears. It was the softest, perhaps the weakest, you've ever heard him speak. "I didn't know how to tell you this when we first met, so I wanted to pretend like everything was fine. I was so stupid. I don't know what I thought, as if I could avoid telling you the truth of all people." He muttered, taking in another deep breath to calm himself down. "Two years ago, my two brothers, Kechizu and Eso, were killed. Car wreck. Eso was still learning how to drive, but we didn't have a choice but to have confidence in him since our Grandpa was getting so old and I was in my first year of college. I didn't know how to tell you. I'm sorry." 

You recalled Choso mentioning them, but you hadn't put much thought into it outside of anything. Still, you frowned, hesitantly resting your hand over one of his. It couldn't have been easy for him to open up to you about such a thing, and the fact that you arguably made it worse haunted you. "Cho.. You didn't have to hide it from me. I wouldn't've viewed you any differently." You assured him, but he shook his head.

"A few days ago was the two-year mark, and then you went missing and- and I just didn't know if I could take another tragedy like that. If something had happened to you, and I could've just prevented it by sticking by your side, I would've never been able to live with myself." He rambled, the tears beginning to well up in Choso's eyes. He gripped your hand, forcing himself to take another deep breath. He still refused to look at you.

"I never even let myself grieve back then. I just swallowed the pain so that I could keep going for Itadori. I didn't have any other choice, then you came into my life like this fucking roman candle, and then you disappeared and it was like the grief from all that came crashing down onto me. I froze. I didn't know what to do but just lay here and think about all the things I could've done differently."

God, this just made you feel even worse.

"Hey." You called to him, squeezing his palm. "Look at me."

After a moment of hesitation, he finally raised his head. His eyebags were so evident in the lamplight. A sense of regret tugged at you from every corner for ever avoiding him like this. Tear tracks left a small impression in his skin, shimmering. 

"I'm here, and nothing happened to me. If I had known... I would have contacted you sooner. I was just so scared." You didn't exactly know why you were rehashing to him, but you felt horrible for letting him go through that by himself.

He nodded, bringing your hand up to him. "I can't lose you or anyone like that again. I would've given up the whole band if it meant knowing you were safe."

"Okay, don't get both of us in trouble." You tried to bring some humor to the situation, testing out a smile. "Sukuna would make sure all of us were mincemeat and Geto would have a celebration of the fucking year."

By the grace of God, Choso let out a chuckle. It was more so a choked sigh, but you would take anything to make him happy right now. "Yeah, you should've seen how mad he was at the post-party. I thought for a moment it would've been better off if we didn't find you that night for your own sake."

You both crashed into a fit of giggles, leaning into the black sheets of the bed before the noises faded into silence. Choso turned to look at you, and you did the same. He was so pretty. You don't know what you would have done without him, or if anyone in Cursed would have forgiven you. Well, you wouldn't have ended up in Cursed in the first place without him.

"I wanted to say thanks again for coming over." He whispered after a while. A piece of his hair fell into his face from his bun, slowly coming unraveled.

"I wanted to." You replied.

The silence that followed was something you knew would lead to more. Choso was staring down your lips, then would flicker back up to your eyes. Your chest came undone like a ribbon as he inched closer to you and hesitantly took the corner of your jaw into his hands. He wanted to be respectful so bad. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

"You haven't had anything to drink, right?" He teased.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not a drop."

Choso smiled, and after giving you a thousand chances to pull away, his lips finally interlocked with yours. Your hand found its home at the dip of his shoulder, pulling him even closer to you. Each kiss was full, his lips soft despite his roughened demeanor. He tasted like a familiar cocktail of cigarette smoke and Coke. Did he even smoke? You don't think you ever saw him smoke. You wished you could stay like this forever, intertwined with him and tasting one another, but after a few more solid kisses, he pulled away from you. 

You spent the next few moments trying to gain back your breath, choppy from how fast your heart was stuttering. 

"Did you like that?" He finally whispered, massaging his thumb over your cheek.

"I loved that." You answered.

He smiled, a genuine one. One that you don't think you've seen on him before. He raised up, allowing the bed to creak beneath him. "I don't want to keep you trapped here, I know we probably both have classes tomorrow."

"Are you kicking me out?" You smirked, nudging him.

"No, I'm saying I don't need to distract you more than I already have."

"I like when you distract me."

"Oh really?" He hummed, cocking his head to the side. "Would you tolerate me distracting you all night?"

You were screaming on the inside at how he said it. Damnit, he was so hot! He had a different glimmer in his eyes now, one of mischief. You wanted to play along and fall into his web for as long as he would let you. "If you're lucky, I might even tolerate more." 

He laughed, closing in on you to give you another warm kiss on the lips. "Then let's get you a shirt to sleep in." 

Choso stood from the bed, stretching slightly as the hem of his shirt lifted just enough to show the carved lines of his waist. You bit back a smile and looked away, like you hadn’t just been kissing him breathless minutes ago. He rummaged around in one of his drawers, pulling out an oversized shirt even for him. It was acid-washed, words scrawled across the shirt in some chicken scratch letters of what you assumed was a more underground band you hadn't heard of.

You caught it as he threw it at you, and you looked over at him with an arched brow. 

"Oh, right, the bathroom is a door over. You can change in there."

You grinned, slipping off the sweater you were wearing and then standing up to shuck off your jeans. Thank God you had decided to wear a matching set today. You purposefully avoided eye contact with him the entire time, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over your head. When you surfaced from the giant neck hole, Choso's entire face, all down to his neck, was dyed a blood red. His mouth was softly agape, and his fists clenched.

"What?" You purred, picking up your original clothes and resting them on the drawers beside him to approach him closer.

You could have sworn you heard him whimper, hands fidgeting. "I thought you were shy."

"And I thought you were nonchalant."

He growled in faux annoyance, giving in to his whims and grabbing you by the waist to promptly throw you into the cradle of the bed. You yelped, giggling like a maniac on the way there. You were silenced by his lips again once your bum hit the sheets, more heated and rushed this time. Your teeth almost clashed together, but Choso used that chance to instead nibble on your bottom lip. His arms caged you in front of him, slowly climbing up onto the bed to pin you entirely.

You moan softly into his mouth, and he takes that as his permission to begin his blazing hot trail of kisses from your lips all the way down to your neck, threatening the neckline of his shirt. 

"Fuck Cho-" You breathed. His free strands of hair tickled your neck, and you took the liberty of freeing his hair from the bun he shoved it in earlier. He grunted back, pushing you further into the bed. It was like your words caused something to snap in him, or maybe he was trying to replace all of his negative feelings with the positive ones he felt for you.

When he finally looked up from you, he was out of breath, and so were you. The room must have been ten degrees hotter from how red you both were, and Choso looked like he didn't want to stop, but deep down, he was still your sweet and respectful Choso. "I got carried away." He whispered, frowning slightly.

"And I liked it." 

He blinked, stunned. For a heartbeat, he looked like he couldn’t quite believe what you’d said. But then he exhaled a rough laugh and collapsed beside you with a dramatic sigh. "You’re evil. You must be."

You laughed with him, getting under the covers. "Not evil, just enthralled by the thought of you."

"Save the poetry for the morning." He wrapped an arm around your waist. You had to admit, you were bummed that it just stopped there, but you also knew that Choso wasn't the type to go fast. When he wanted you, he would make sure you could have him one hundred percent.

It had to have been almost midnight by now, and you did have an early class tomorrow morning. "Yeah, I'll save it for waking you up." You rested your head on his bicep.

Choso made his chin a home in your hair, breathing in once. He spoke your name, gentle as ever. "Have sweet dreams."

You smiled, closing your eyes to take in the scent of him. "Sweet dreams, Cho."

Chapter Text

"Well, I'll see you next Thursday, Miwa." You waved to your classmate, giving her a smile.

"You mean you'll see me at the beach Saturday for the show!" She exclaimed back, snapping her fingers. "I'm gonna be there! Put on your best bathing suit!"

You took most of the class period explaining to her what went wrong at the homecoming show, and as Miwa did, she took almost everything you said at surface level. "Yeah. I gotcha." Thankfully, Miwa was the last of your semi-immediate friends on the checklist of telling everyone what went down. You had called Nanami, who left you with silence before saying, "Yeah, just be more careful." Along with Haibara in the background of the phone, barely making it through to the microphone. "We'll see you Saturday!"

So everything was temporarily right in the world. Better even. You recalled this morning, waking up with Choso's warmth around you. Your alarm had gone off, waking both of you up from your peaceful slumber. Choso, despite not wanting you to miss class, brought you in closer once he realized what the noise meant. You patted his back, traced your hand up to the nape of his neck, and scratched around his hairline. "Cho, I gotta get up." You rasped.

He whined, rolling you onto your back so he could make a home on your chest, resting his chin just below the dip of your ribcage. He peeked a sleepy eye open. "Five more minutes?"

Ugh, that voice alone could have convinced you of anything. "Only five. After the snooze goes off, I have to get up, or Miwa will double have my head." 

Choso purred a hum in satisfaction, resting his head back down. Was he crushing you? Absolutely, but you didn't mind one bit. In fact, you relished in it before you had to do the inevitable, and unfortunately, get up for your class.

The good news was that you both agreed to grab a drink together after the show. You really couldn't care less about rehearsal right now, you just cared about seeing Choso again, feeling his lips again, perhaps feeling more after the fact. 

But your daydream was shattered by the sudden, violent yank on your wrist. You barely managed a gasp before you were stumbling, dragged sideways through a doorway, and slammed hard against the back of a cold door. The lock clicked. You were trapped.

When you looked up, your face paled to see Geto standing above you. It chilled you to the bone even more to see his expression more level-headed than malicious. He seemed to always be so sure of himself when he was plotting. You recalled Gojo's retelling of their breakup and how cold and heartless he was about it, almost coy. Gojo sulked about it for days, Geto disappeared for the same, and that's what led up to this entire mess.

"Dude! Get the fuck off of me." You shoved Geto's hand from your wrist. Your heartbeat was out of control from the initial spook, not to mention he dragged you into the men's bathroom, of all places.

"Still dramatic as ever." Geto's hands were shoved in his pockets, the smirk on his face unwavering. "Didn't I tell you I'd be getting my place in the band back sooner or later?"

This again. You thought that maybe you had finally gotten rid of Geto after the party at Sukuna's. You grimaced, taking a step back towards the door. "Grow a fucking pair, Geto. I'm not playing these games with you."

"That's no way to talk to someone who saved you." Geto quipped, his grin widening. "Don't you remember? Oh, who am I kidding, of course you didn't. You were blasted out of your mind. I thought I told you to be more careful back at Sukuna's."

Your stomach lurched. Could he be talking about the homecoming game? No way. There was no fucking way. Someone would have noticed.

"Did you fucking drug me?" You spat outright, taking a step forward this time.

Geto's hand flew from his pockets, raising them in surrender. His phone was in his right hand, waving around like he had a toy you were too small to grab. "Heavens no! I'm not a monster, but I am a strategist, and it would have been stupid of me not to take advantage of the opportunity that was given to me." He said, his phone flickering on. He unlocked it, scrolling through his gallery to then swiping through a carousel of pictures of you somewhere on the ground, shirt pulled up to expose yourself. You were obviously passed out, but the more he scrolled, the worse the pictures got. Oh God, you felt sick.

"Now, I'm being very generous here with you," Geto spoke your name, as if he were a parent scolding a child while your mind swam with all the possibilities of what he was about to lay on you. "Drop out of the band by next Thursday and let me take my rightful position, and none of these will see the light of day. However, even speak of these to anyone, including your little knight in shining armor, and I'll make sure every single face on this campus sees just what you were doing when you skipped out on the biggest show of the year."

You were having to fight back tears as Geto's phone fell asleep, and he promptly shoved it back into his pocket. The silence was suffocating. What were you even to say in a situation like this? Strike a deal? Feign indifference? You had to swallow down the stomach acid bubbling at the top of your throat, significantly drier than five minutes ago. "This isn't fair, you plotted against me you- you waited until I was vulnerable, and this is illegal." You tried to defend yourself, still shoved against the wooden door of the bathroom.

"Maybe so, but a delete button exists as far as evidence goes. Those images will be burned into people's brains forever, and dignity isn't something that can be easily repaired." Geto responded, pressing you closer. "I'm being fair." He gritted your name, staring bullets through you. "I'm even letting you perform the fucking beach show. Do you know how much of a comeback I could have if I played that as my first official comeback performance? Be grateful." 

His words stabbed through you, venomous and cunning as ever. You bit your lip to keep it from trembling, taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to speak. "I'll quit by next Thursday, but you have to make a deal with me." You muttered, crossing your arms. "Keep Choso out of this. Don't antagonize him, don't tell him, just keep the entire band away from this event, like it never happened." 

Geto shrugged. "Usually, I would tell you that you have no room to be scheming such deals, but it's simple enough." He smiled, and that made your stomach churn even more as he held out his hand. "I guess I'll be seeing you soon, that is if you decide to keep up the whole thing with that arrogant sob show." 

You gritted your teeth, gripping his hand tightly and giving it a shake. "Keep up your end of the fucking deal." 

"You as well." He finally let go of his suffocating presence around you, unlocking the bathroom door and opening it for you. It was insulting how casual he was about the entire thing, holding the damn door open for you as if he didn't just threaten your entire college existence. Was it even true? Did he not drug you and just take advantage of the opportunity at hand? You didn't know what to believe anymore, and Choso, oh God Choso, how were you going to drop out after you both just started to have such a good thing going? He would never forgive you. He would feel used. You used him. 

When you properly entered the hallway, everything sounded like it was underwater. You were almost dizzy from all of the information you were having to process, and you were having to go to rehearsal tonight? Were you just supposed to face everyone and pretend like it was all normal? What were you going to blame for the reason you were dropping out? Grades? Sukuna would never forgive you. Choso would never forgive you. Mahito might forgive you, but what does that matter? Your dignity sounded like it was going to be ruined, regardless of how much you mulled over it.

You could hear Geto walking the other direction behind you. He was humming. Humming. As if he hadn't just pressed a double-edged sword into your palm and smiled the whole while doing it. 

Your stomach churned and protested, the stomach acid from an empty stomach pressing down on your heart to beat heavier. You held the base of your throat, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. You finally made it to the stairwell of the building, making that your temporary home to get your emotions out before you went back to your dorm for lunch. Who were you kidding? There was no way you could eat lunch now. You choked back a sob, crouched down under the stairs, and held your backpack close to you. Cursed really did ruin your life, and even the one good thing that came of it was at risk of being ruined as well.

Shoko's voice behind you caused your shoulders to bristle, your name spoken, uncertain and worried. You refused to face her, so she took to grabbing your shoulder and repeating your name. "That's you, right?" 

She finally got you turned around, and the worry was evident on her face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" 

You felt pathetic. You could never remember in your entire life crying or throwing up this much in such a short span of time. Sukuna had to endure it, Choso had to endure it, and now Shoko was having to endure it. Everyone you cared about was having to put up with your self-inflicted pity party. Still, you leaned into Shoko's embrace when she pulled you closer, muffling all of your sobs with the cloth of her sweater.

"Dude, did you get a bad grade or something? Did something happen with Choso? Come on, you gotta tell me something." She whispered, keeping you shielded from all of the stray passerby students exiting and entering the stairs.

That was it. You could just blame it on your grades. 

You pulled away from Shoko's embrace, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. "It's my grades. I'm failing one of my core classes. I thought I was doing fine, but some of the grades were just updated, and I bombed on two exams. I won't even be able to get it up to a C if I don't completely lock in." You lied, your chest crunching the more you had to explain yourself.

Shoko's look was one of sympathy, of pity, pushing a few strands of hair back behind your ear that stuck to your cheeks from the tears. "Let's get you back to the dorms and talk about it over a smoke. The last thing we need is Zenin or Geto seeing you like this." 

Even Geto's name caused your lip to tremble more, allowing Shoko to help you up and guide you down the hall, skillfully avoiding students. Shoko was a master at that, always escaping without anyone batting an eye from any sort of situation. It came in handy at a time like this.

Once back at the dorm, Shoko sat you down on the chest of drawers that was shoved up against her window, a perfect place to open the window and smoke out of. She was the first to land a cigarette between her lips, fiddling around with her lighter before inhaling a deep puff. She handed it to you, exhaling smoke so she could speak. "So tell me about your grades, what happened?"

You took the stick from her, taking a puff before answering. You rarely ever smoked, but this would have to be one of the few exceptions. "I had skipped a few classes in favor of making sure I had all of the chords down for the shows, and I didn't really think it would be that big of a deal." You began, slow and calculated. If you blamed the band, that would soften the reason you quit. "But then the second exam came along, and nothing I studied was on there, and the essay for that chapter was even worse. I'm not very good at science anyway, so it was a recipe for disaster. I don't know what I was thinking." 

Shoko nodded along with your explanation, passing the cigarette back and forth between the two of you. Birds chirped to take the place of your voices, and you worried she thought of you differently now. What if she just saw you as stupid now? It was a core science; anyone should be able to ace that.

"So now that I've let you think about it, are you gonna tell me the truth now about what's wrong?" She asked, startling you from your gaze on the half-spent cigarette.

When you didn't respond, she just snorted and threw her hands up. "Come on, dude. You're the smartest person I know at this college. Sure, you might have taken a hit, maybe worse, but I know that was not the level of reaction to just a bad grade." She elaborated, passing the final draw back to you before crossing her arms. "Now, are you gonna tell me what really happened?"

Your stomach curdled at the thought. If Shoko even hinted that she knew anything about what happened, it would eventually find its way to Geto. Kaisen University had that habit. Once one person knew drama, everyone knew drama. You couldn't look at her when you answered. "It's really, really sensitive Sho. I just don't know if I'm ready to tell you yet, but... I am leaving the band after this weekend's show. I changed my mind." 

For whatever reason, you initially expected some bravado and dramatic response from her, maybe even trying to convince you not to quit. None of that came. She took the cigarette from you and snubbed it out in her ashtray on the windowsill instead, and then rested her hand on your shoulder. "Whenever you do, I'll support you. I know nobody else will take it softly, so you deserve someone who will." 

In all your years of knowing Shoko, of being her roommate, all the bickers and gossip, you had never felt more thankful for her than you did right now. You smiled and nudged her shoulder, softer tears dribbling at your waterline. "I owe you a coffee or something, for being the best roommate and friend ever."

She laughed, nudging you back. "Just keep making sure the dorm is clean, and we'll call it even."

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You didn't know if your heart should drop to your ass or not yet, so you slowly fished it out and turned it on to make that gamble. 

It was Choso, and the rehearsal was twenty minutes from now.

"Want coffee for rehearsal? I'll bring it to you and pick you up."

"If you want me to." 

You took a deep breath, exhaling it with what felt like all the hope for the potential of this relationship. There was no way Choso would take this whole loop well. Shoko must have sensed your anxiety and tapped the top of your phone with her nail.

"It's okay to be a little selfish and enjoy it while it lasts." She whispered.

You nodded to her, pressing your fingers to the pad.

"Yeah, coffee sounds great. See you in ten."

Chapter Text

The beach two hours away from KU was nowhere near any weather appropriate enough for swimming at the beginning of October, but it was just warm enough to wear a bikini top and shorts and not be chattering your ass off. 

So that's what you showed up in at the band van. A bikini top and a pair of shorts. You wore the bathing suit bottom as well to create a whale tail as the advice of Shoko, but all in all, you just felt like a Walmart summer collection model. You carried your electric guitar with you, well, technically Choso's. Your hair was done up all cute and summery despite the contradicting weather, but Sukuna insisted that the beach show was a must have and he wasn't going to do it sweating his ass off in the spring semester.

Sukuna, Mahito, and Choso were in their own appropriate swimwear, loading up the back of the van with amps and other equipment. 

Choso was the first to look up, and boy, did he notice what you were wearing. You think you saw the whites of his eyes for the first time, mouth slightly parted, and hair hanging from his pigtails. A dusting of coral spread across his cheeks, his eyes raking over and taking in every inch. 

"Miss me?" You teased, walking up closer to him,

"Finally, princess is here, was scared you were gonna juke us again," Sukuna said, as if he had seen you dressed like this countless times, when really Choso had been the only one to see you anymore bare than you already were right now. "I'm chucking the last amp in the car, and then we're headed on the way."

You gave him a thumbs up before turning back to Choso, who was promptly putting your guitar in the back before turning back to you.

When he approached you, he had that rare crooked smile on his lips. The one that you knew, whatever came out of his mouth next would make you melt. "You look like you did Wednesday night."

Bingo.

You chuckled, hopping into the backseat with him. Sukuna took the driver's seat, and Mahito named himself shotgun. Choso made it a point to sit closer to you than usual. You continued the conversation. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Only when it's people other than me that are getting to see it." He whispered it low enough that Sukuna and Mahito couldn't hear, practically having to press his lips to your ears to achieve it.

Your face heated, turning to look at him. He still kept his smirk, so full of himself all of a sudden. You knew it was going to be a long car ride, and with Sukuna's gritty metal music blaring, you decided to just go all out and make your head a home in Choso's lap. 

He welcomed you, tracing a careful hand through your hair while the other rested on your stomach. It felt so domestic, for a moment, you had to remind yourself that it was potentially all over soon for you. You had until next practice, but what was the use of waiting that long? You should just tell them after the show.

Shoko's words argued back in your head. "It's okay to be a little selfish and enjoy it while it lasts." 

But you still felt your morals tugging back at you, remembering that if you waited until Thursday, it would leave them without a proper rehearsal. Sure, Geto would swoop in and save the day once more, but wouldn't that be too on the nose? It would surely seem planned then, which, this time, it was. You ruminated heavily over your options. Would the band truly believe that Geto just randomly had nudes of you? Well, they have seen you more than drunk plenty of times. Besides, even if the band believed you, the entire University wouldn't. Your dignity is down the drain, regardless.

"What's with the grimace?" Choso snapped you from your thoughts, peering up at him. "My hair brushing skills that bad?" 

You let yourself grin, shaking your head. "You just reminded me that I am indeed going to be up there in a bikini top now. Shoko insisted it was a good idea, though."

"You look great. I didn't mean to make you nervous." 

"God, you two are gonna make me vomit," Sukuna called from the driver's seat, turning up the music. Mahito didn't seem to mind, but he also had his own headphones on and was munching down on Takis with one foot dangling out the window. 

You both turned to look back at each other, chuckling like smitten schoolkids. "Alright, let's stop poking the bear." You whispered to Choso, and he nodded. It was an opportunity for you to shove in a nap before your last show.

Last show.

It didn't seem real. Not even when Sukuna jerked the van into park beside the makeshift stage near the bar on the beach. Not even when you began to unload and Choso performed his usual due diligence of taking everything out of your arms before you even made it halfway to the stage. Not even when Gojo and Shoko showed up extra early, and Shoko pulled you to the side of everyone to talk at the outside bar.

You took a seat at the barstool beside her, feeling the breeze dance on your bare shoulders. "Are you about to get all sappy on me?" 

She barked a laugh and rolled her eyes. "Not my style." She replied, ordering both of you a shot of liquor. "For your nerves tonight, I know this won't be easy." 

You watched as the shot glass was set in front of you, no chaser. Maybe that was a good thing. You followed Shoko's lead and picked up your glass, clinking it with hers before throwing it back. "You're right. My entire body is in knots just thinking about it."

"It's one and done. You'll never have to worry about it again." 

"Yeah, besides all the parties, the hallways, the dorms. Y'know, just a chip on my shoulder." You snorted back, sarcasm laced.

Shoko scoffed, lighting up a cigarette. "Alright, negative Nancy." 

You were numb to the notion that all of this was happening out of blackmail by now. Geto kept lingering around in your mind, but nothing compared to the way it kept you up last night. This wasn't even to mention you could be giving up your spot in Cursed, and he could just leak your nudes anyway. You groaned to yourself, pushing your face into your hands.

You were about to complain to Shoko again when your name was called, interrupting you. You turned to see Sukuna, waving you over with his own personal shot tray of Jameson. "Twenty minutes 'til set! Get your ass over here!"

You sighed, glancing at Shoko. "I guess I'll see you after the damage is done." 

"Kill it one last time," Shoko called as you trekked your way along the sand towards the group behind the stage.

Sukuna passed your shot to you, everyone holding their respective ones. "To a kickass show, with kickass bandmates... Sometimes." He muttered, clinking glasses.

Everyone made a noise of agreement, yet after downing the shot, you couldn't help but cringe and grimace, not only at the mixing of liquors but the fact that everything was the way it was supposed to be again, and you were about to ruin it... again. 

You took a deep breath and let the words leave your mouth fast. "I've changed my mind."

The whole band seemed to pause, post shot, and each other their faces a different kind of confused, shocked, or both. You thought Sukuna would be the first to speak, but it was Choso with his eyebrows creased. "What do you mean, changed your mind?"

You swallowed hard, taking a step back. "You all- uh.. You all have every right to be pissed at me, belligerent even, but have that whole drugged schpeel has been really overwhelming me, not to mention I'm failing one of my classes. We have shows lined up every weekend until winter break, and I just- I can't afford to lose my scholarships. I'm on my own out here, and the coffee shop only covers so much. I'm really, really sorry. I should've just let Geto come through and retake his place again. I'm stupid, I know. I'm a liar, I know. But once we get this show over with, you can slander my name all you want and rag on me at every single show from here on out. I... I'm really sorry."

Razor blades settled at the bottom of your throat, every swallow painful and dry. You don't know what you expected. For Sukuna to blow up, for Choso to melt down, for everyone to begin calling you every single name under the sun. Mahito was eerily quiet himself.

"Then let's get the fucking show over with and you out of here so you can fuck yourself with homework for the rest of the semester," Sukuna replied, his voice uncannily steady and monotone. He flicked out his cigarette onto the sand, and the last song before the band went on began playing. "That's what you want, right?"

You turned your eyes away, focusing on the spent cigarette now half buried. The air was suddenly much colder now. "That's not what I want. It's what I have to do in order to get through college."

Choso's mouth was still partly open, probably trying to register everything you just said. It had to have been an entire loop for him. You didn't blame him for being grossly taken aback. Nothing else needed to be said, you all began to take the stage, Choso lingering behind to have a moment to himself.

You couldn't bear to look at him anymore, footsteps heavier than lead when you made your way up the stairs and slid the guitar around your shoulder. Would Choso ask for it back now? You would pay out all your savings to keep it if he would let you. Just to have something to remember when everything was halfway going well for you. 

Sukuna gave his usual speech before the band, and part of you had expected him to call you out and shame you in front of everyone, but he didn't. It was business as usual to him, and you didn't know if that should relieve or terrify you.

The set started, and your hands were on autopilot. Every note was second nature, muscle memory stitched into your bones. You kept your eyes down or out toward the crowd, never behind you. Not where Choso stood. Not where you might crumble. Still, the show ran with minimal errors. You got a little bit of butter fingers towards the toss for Bull in the Bronx, but you still managed to catch it, and the crowd went wild, per usual. 

It was gut-wrenching in a way to see everyone carrying on while you were crumbling on the inside. Tears were threatening your waterline, wiping them away with the ball of your shoulder to keep the chord progression up. When the last strum hit, there was nothing left but a numbness. You didn't know if you could properly face them after this, or if they even wanted to. You didn't think you wanted to find out.

Once the crowd died down from cheering, you set the guitar back into its case and rather hastily made your way down the stairs off the backstage area, where Shoko was already waiting with Gojo, falling into her arms. You were scared that Gojo was going to relapse and fall into anger with you again, but instead, he was holding one of your favorite drinks. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but he was smiling all the same. "I'm not gonna be mad at you. You deserve a break." As if he read your mind. He assured with your name, gesturing to the drink.

You tried to speak, to thank him, to tell them both that you didn’t deserve even a sliver of their kindness. But all that came out was a choked laugh, and then more tears.

Shoko held you tighter.

Gojo stayed silent, letting you breathe.

"Let's get you somewhere before the band comes down," Shoko whispered into the curtains of your hair, pulling you along the beach and more towards where the crowds were. 

Random club music from a DJ was now playing from the stage to keep the party going for everyone else. Shoko and Gojo let you finish your drink out of precaution before entering the crowd, thanking them before wedging yourself in between Nanami and Kirara. You were letting Nanami spin you before he spoke up. "So what happened up there?" 

You sighed, properly buzzed from the back-to-back shot and downing of the drink. It wouldn't hurt to tell someone like Namami. "Quit the band because of grades, was it that obvious?'

"Oh, I had no idea. Choso was crying."

You paused your dancing, frozen in place among the sea of people. He was crying? For you? You put your arms up to the other, eyebrows knitting together. "Like, the whole set?" You had tried avoiding even looking at him the entire show to keep yourself from crying. How could you be so selfish? You were acting like you hadn't just spent the night with him and then spent the whole car ride flirting just to throw him that curveball. God, you were a shit person right now. Here you were, trying to dance in the crowd like you hadn't just put the band in a sore spot again.

But you had no choice.

"I uh- I hadn't realized." You muttered, too quietly for Nanami to hear. Still, he held his hand out to you. 

"Let's get you away from the crowd, can be pretty overstimulating." He said, nonchalant as ever. You nodded to him, letting him take you away from the crowd almost as soon as you were in it. Surely Shoko and Gojo would understand. Really, you just wanted to go home, and now you would have to find a completely new ride back to the University. Maybe Gojo drove, and you wouldn't have to worry about it.

Nanami sat down with you closer to the shore, just a foot or two away from where the waves curled and whispered to the air. The breeze was much more present here, causing you to shiver with more than just the chill. It was the fact that you made Choso cry haunting your consciousness already. The pitch black of the horizon didn't help.

You didn't expect Nanami to be this tender with you of all people, but he was sitting here beside you on the sand like you two had known each other since diapers. He was always so logical, so pragmatic. Sure, Nanami was a good friend, but nothing to warrant this kind of attention. "Thanks for getting me away from the crowd. You're right, it would've become overwhelming after a minute. I need to be drunker." You joked, tracing shapes in the sand.

"It's not a problem. I knew someone like Gojo wasn't going to help you out." His tone carried something more than you expected from him. Annoyance, maybe? You weren't aware that Nanami might not like Gojo, seeing how the white haired man was always elated to see him in contrast. He continued on. "You were a really good guitarist for Cursed. Better than anything Geto ever was." He was trying to be somewhat of a beacon of solace, but right now, the only thing you wanted was silence. The other thing you wanted was Choso's arms, and you don't think you'll ever get to experience that again. 

"That should make me feel better." You whispered, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your chin on your caps. "But I still feel like shit."

"You're grieving." Nanami pointed out, about to say more, before something behind him caught his eye instead. He just exhaled through his nose, raising to his feet. "I'll leave you two to it."

At first, you were confused by what he meant by that, but after turning around, you could make the outline of Choso out from the backlights of the stage in the distance. You already felt like you were choking just by looking at him. How were you supposed to talk to him? What were you supposed to say? Would he see through your lie as easily as Shoko did?

Choso took Nanami's place, waiting for him to leave earshot. You felt sick. He was just sitting here, no meltdown, no crying, just sitting here with you in your presence. He was supposed to hate you.

"Are you okay?" Choso finally broke the silence, but didn't meet your eyes. You couldn't face him either.

"Not really." You whispered, focusing on the sand to keep yourself from crying. 

"Why'd you do it?" 

"I had no choice."

"If you had told me, I would've helped."

"I didn't know it was getting this bad."

More silence. The waves were deafening now, not the usual peaceful lull that kept your nerves calm, but instead sharp and loud. You hated yourself. You hated that you couldn't tell Choso and make everything better again.

And the worst part of it all was that he knew it. Just like you predicted.

"You're not telling me everything." He finally said, turning his head to look at you.

You finally took a deep breath and met eyes with him. "I will when I can, but I can't right now."

"Why can't you? I want you to be happy, and something is obviously going on that's destroying you." He pointed on, his face contorted in a cocktail of hurt and frustration.

"I'll be fine in due time."

"Are you in danger? Is someone hurting you?"

"Lay off of it."

He spoke your name, solid and firm. "I absolutely won't if someone's hurting you."

You rolled your eyes. "I have to handle it on my own, Choso. This isn't something I can tell just anyone." 

"Not even me?"

You blinked. He was closer now than he originally was. You could see now where his tears smudged his Sharpie marks down his cheeks. His hair was out of its pigtails and messy along his neck. He was torn up just as much as you were, and yet you couldn't tell him. It would ruin your life, and maybe even his. 

"Especially not you."

It was enough to stun him so you could get away. Maybe it was better to cut him off and try your damnest to never see him again. You would just not go to the parties, you wouldn't go anywhere but your dorm and Gojo's. You might go to Void since none of the Cursed guys ever went there, but aside from the dorm, Void, and classes, it would be easy to avoid them. It would be easier to get over. Guess you weren't keeping that guitar after all.

Your name echoed from behind you, and that's when you picked up the pace to get to the slowly dispersing crowd. You could make out Gojo and Shoko conversing with one another and with Nanami. Could they be talking about you? You needed to get home.

Your name repeated, closer this time. You ran faster, kicking up sand in your wake, praying the adrenaline would keep you from crying for the umpteenth time today. Gojo was the first to notice you, and he held out his arms to let you grab onto them. You didn't hear your name anymore, and you didn't dare turn back to see if Choso was still following. "Get me home." That was all you said, and like Gojo knew, he was already guiding you to the car with Shoko and Nanami.

Cramming into Gojo's white Camaro, you slip into the backseat with Nanami, finally taking a deep breath. Gojo locked the doors as if Choso would even try to break in, but after looking out the back window, he was nowhere in sight. You felt sick to your stomach, heavy with guilt, ridden with exhaustion. You could drop out of college now and call it a fucking day.

"Talk didn't go well?" Nanami leaned back in the backseat. Gojo revved up the engine and sped off back down the county roads to get back to the University, Shoko playing some hyper club music to try and boost the mood. Not even meeting your celebrity crush right now could get you out of a rut like this. All you could think about was the hurt in Choso's eyes when they finally met yours.

You sighed, pressing your head against the cool glass of the backseat window to try and forget about it. "Not exactly."

Chapter Text

You wished you could say life continued on as usual after that night, that the band left you alone, and your definition of a night out was ranting with Shoko and Goko on the couch about your current reality TV show you were binge-watching over pizza and a bottle of cheap wine. 

But whatever thing that was up in the sky never particularly liked you happy.

The first weekend was brutal. Seeing everyone's Snapchat story at the band's weekend performance, having a grand time, sent you right back into the depressive rut you had dug yourself. You slept in, you skipped classes, you called out of work. You did everything you could just to be able to avoid everyone but Shoko and Gojo at all costs. 

Choso had knocked on the door Wednesday night, and thankfully, you managed to convince Shoko to bail you out. She claimed you went home to recover, that your professors allowed you to have online work this week, but Choso's jaw ticked at the excuse.

"Her car's in the parking lot." You heard him mutter from behind the couch, crouched down just out of eyesight.

Shoko swallowed hard, glancing off. "She's still not home... She's with Gojo at a movie right now."

Deafening silence followed, your heartbeat reverberating out of your chest before footsteps could be heard echoing outside of the door, fading down the stairs. Shoko shut the door with an exhale.

"You can come out now."

You lifted yourself up from the couch, tears already running down your cheeks. How could he want to see you after all of that? After you basically spat in his face and ran away? Surely he just wanted to make sure he got the last laugh or something. It couldn't be that he still cared. You wouldn't let yourself believe it.

So here you were, a Monday later, rotting in your bed and doom-scrolling TikTok before you inevitably knew you would have to drag yourself to work. You promised yourself you would today. It would be the easiest shift you could possibly ask for on a Monday. Just work the fucking shift.

But the thoughts of Choso never went away, no matter how much you drank yourself silly some nights. No matter how much you would cry into Shoko or Gojo's chest. It would always loop back around to Choso at the end of the day, and just how badly you fucked up. Even as you pulled on your shirt and jeans for work, his face haunted you. Something that was barely even a relationship gnawed you to the bone. How could you let yourself end up like this?

You should never have auditioned for that fucking band.

It was particularly bad on a Thursday night, shoved in between Gojo and Shoko while watching a movie with a movie-sized bag of popcorn in your lap. It was meant to be shared, but you had become a little territorial over it. Two bottles of cheap wine from the convenience store down the street, both half drunk, Shoko's cigarettes resting by the open window. It had been meant as a night to finally pull you out of your rut. 

Of all the movies?

Brokeback Mountain.

You don't remember how the movie was chosen, maybe it was meant to be a tease where you could laugh about the horribly edited sex scene, or maybe something to show that you were cornily persevering this. Whatever it may have been, the ending scene was rolling, and silent tears were already streaming down your cheeks. God, why couldn't you get Choso out of your head?

Credits were rolling, and both Shoko and Gojo perked up when you finally caved and had to sniffle to clear the snot from your nose. You were on the brink of sobbing. Gojo gasped, quickly holding your shoulder and bringing you close. "What?! What's wrong?!" Shoko darted towards the bathroom to presumably get tissues.

"Why can't I stop missing him?!" You finally wailed. You had done such a good job of keeping it in, of just meekly breathing out whispers of a cry at night once Shoko had gone to bed. Now? At all times when you were in front of both of your closest friends, who, mind you, still had no true idea of what you were also battling with Geto.

"Oh, you're going to miss him for a while." Gojo horribly attempted to comfort you. You could hear the sound of a hand coming to swat his head before tissues appeared in your peripheral vision from Shoko.

"Don't listen to him. You'll be over this hump soon." Shoko circled the couch to come back and sit beside you.

"Don't lie to her," Gojo muttered, bringing you closer. "It's not like I'm over Geto still... Not by a long shot."

"That's because you like to sulk," Shoko argued.

"Not like he does!" He argued, momentarily taking his hand from your arms to gesture at Shoko. "Doesn't help that he's back in the fucking band... All high and mighty..."

You splintered further. You knew Gojo didn't mean it any kind of way, but in this state, the only thing you could think about was just how badly you had fucked everything up for everyone. You shoved your hands to your face, bringing your knees up to your chest on the couch and crying into them further. You let everyone down. You always did. You let Gojo down, you let Sukuna down, you let Choso down. You let all of the University down who didn't want that dickhead back up on that stage.

In your wine blitzed state, you muttered into your hands. "This would have never happened if I didn't go to that fucking tailgate."

Even with the credit soundtrack playing, it seemed the room had fallen to silence. An uncomfortable one.

Shoko shattered it, speaking your name. "What do you mean by that?"

You hiccupped, remembering the words you had just said, and bit your lip so hard it bled. "GOD, CAN I NOT JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE SECOND!" You yelled, grabbing at your hair and gearing up to pull before Gojo clutched them, firm, and brought them to his chest to help ground you. You took a shaky breath, blurred by tears. Gojo had taken his glasses off, kneeling down on the floor to meet you at your level.

"What happened at the tailgate?" All of the teasing had left his tone.

"Nothing, it's nothing, I promise." You seethed through your teeth, trying and failing to catch up on your breathing.

Shoko came and sat by Gojo, making sure you were looking at both of them. "You never mentioned anything about a tailgate, and we were all there. So what happened?"

Silence followed. You couldn't tell them. Gojo would burn down the whole university if he found out. Shoko would probably hide the body. Everything would totally fall into flames if you told them, but what else were you supposed to do? They had a lead now, and if you didn't tell them, they would investigate. It would circulate to Geto, and then he would know you spilled, and then there go your nudes all over campus.

You took in a deep breath, shifting in your position on the couch before looking back and forth at the two of them.

"If I tell you this, you cannot tell anyone else. Not Utahime, not Nanami, not Choso, no one. This stays right here in this apartment, and nothing will be done about it, do you understand?"

Shoko glanced at Gojo, gauging his response, but Gojo was deadpan. He simply nodded. Shoko followed suit.

"When I went to the homecoming tailgate, everything was really crazy. I got stuck talking to Mahito in the crowd, and I guess I just thought I could let my guard down with a bandmate around, but we both must not have seen it... I ended up getting drugged. I still don't remember much after talking to Mahito. Some pieces have come back to me very fuzzily. Like I was picked up at some point, but I don't remember by who, and I remember being back by the fieldhouse, but I don't remember why. The last thing I remember is just waking up in my car." You explained, but here came the hard part.

"I tried to brush it off and not think much of it. Just pray to God that maybe a good Samaritan who knew my car got me back, y'know? But a few days later Geto cornered me in the communications bathroom and showed me where he had taken nudes of me... He blackmailed me into dropping the band so he could get back in, and it's been eating me alive. He told me if I told anyone what happened he would post it all around campus. I can't face any of them, and they're all more than pissed because they think I just up and ditched them right after I agreed to get back in."

You were choking up again between words, tears pooling at the peak of your chin. Gojo and Shoko were sitting in front of you, mouths slightly agape.

"Holy shit." Shoko finally reacted, reaching up to rest a hand on your knee. "Are you... Are you okay?"

You shook your head. "Hell no. I lost everything but you guys."

Gojo went to stand up, red climbing up to his ears like vines. "I'll kill him-No!" You shrieked! Heart scampering to a palpitation. "You can't say anything! That's what he wants! If you say something, he'll know and then my nudes will be everywhere!"

"So what? We're just supposed to let you live out the rest of your college career like a fucking hermit because of my stupid ass, sulky, cunt of an ex? I knew Geto was reaching a low, but this is putting the bar in fucking hell. He can't get away with this! I won't let him! For both your and my sake!" Gojo ranted, going to pace around the back of the couch. "Stupid fucking- stupid cunt. Stupid fucking cunt." 

Shoko finally interjected, standing up from the floor. "But if he even gets the hint that we know it'll ruin her." She pointed out. "What can we do? Sure, we could maybe pay Toji to beat the shit out of him." It was meant to be a 'obviously we're not going to do that' sentence, even a joke, but Gojo froze in his tracks.

"Toji." He muttered, then spun around and pointed at Shoko. "Yes! We pay Toji to beat his ass!"

Shoko scoffed, waving her hand. "We can't actually do that, Gojo. What if he assumes it's because people know? We would need a good point that Toji leaves him with, something unrelated."

Gojo snorted. "What, give him some piss poor reason like bad stage presence?"

Shoko sighed. "It wouldn't be the worst excuse, but maybe we can have them run into each other at a bar?"

All of this was beginning to sound ridiculous within itself to you. "This is too fucking risky." You muttered, pinching your temples. "We can't have Toji fucking Fushiguro just show up to somewhere like Malevolent Shrine and just randomly beat Geto's ass."

"Why not?"

"You forget Toji and Sukuna practically suck each other off when they're not busying themselves with other things." You mentioned, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. You wish you could melt into them right now. "It would take a lot more than just money to get into Toji's good favor, and I'm not digging myself a deeper hole by prostituting myself out to that dick."

Shoko and Gojo paced while you stared at the ceiling, void of any thoughts. Maybe you should try getting high again.

"I know what we need to do..." Gojo's voice trailed off, as if he hated to say it. You sat up, turning around to look at him.

"What?"

He sighed, running a hand through his snow hair. "I have to let my ass get beat, too."

Both you and Shoko blinked, stupefied by his proposition. "What? Why?" You almost said it in unison.

Gojo began gesturing wildly, aggravated. "The douchebag beat both me and Geto at that mock trial that sent Geto spiraling. If I offer Toji money, as well as letting him beat my ass. Not only will that satisfy him enough to beat up Geto, but it also throws off the scent that it was targeted. It just looks like Toji came back for seconds."

"Gojo, I'm not going to have you get your ass beat just for Toji to give Geto a black eye."

"I'll be fine! I heal fast."

Shoko sighed, lighting up a cigarette by the window. "I mean, it's not an entirely bad idea. But how much?"

"For someone like him, even a hundred dollars would be enough." You muttered, taking a sip of your warm wine on the coffee table.

"Okay, you both give fifty since I'm the one getting my ass beat." He chuckled, looping back around to sit on the couch with you.

"This still doesn't solve the problem of Geto having her nudes, though." Shoko said through the filter of the cigarette in her mouth. "We're just giving him a beating, and sure it'll feel good, but the threat will still be there."

Gojo nodded, raising a finger. "This is just plan A for now. Plan B will be taking care of the nudes. Plan C will be getting her back into the band."

Shoko snubbed out her cigarette, rejoining the two of you on the couch. "I hate the cartoon logic, but it might just work." She said, propping her feet up against the wood as she fished the remote out of the abyss of the couch.

You sank into the two of them, feeling lighter now that some of that was finally off your chest. Someone knew, and while that was terrifying, it was also relieving. You weren't just trudging this alone anymore. Still, what were you going to do about Choso? This wasn't something he would get to know. He wouldn't take it so easily like Gojo or Shoko. If Choso knew, he would rip Geto limb from limb and then hang his guts up on the flag pole.

But that was something you were desperately trying not to concern yourself with right now. Instead, you leaned your head on Shoko's shoulder, settling in for another movie.

Gojo gasped, pointing at the screen. "Ooo! Let's watch Lalaland next!"

"No." You both answered in unison.

-

"Alright, stay in the car. Duck down in the backseat. I don't want to risk Toji seeing you, but I also want you to see me get beat up." Gojo snorted, pulling into the alleyway behind Void. Shoko was in the passenger seat, a hundred bucks in hand.

"He's already late." Shoko sighed, leaning against the door. "He said ten o'clock."

"It's Toji, did you really expect him not to show up just late enough that it looks cool?" Gojo sighed, stretching in the driver's seat.

But it was almost like that summoned him. He stepped out from behind one of the dumpsters, obviously slightly buzzed. He departed from the back door of Void, standing in a man spread. He looked intimidating even from afar. How did Choso put up with him as a roommate? The ink of his hair shown bright off the street lights, his black compression shirt and grey sweatpants stained from something indiscernible. To be from such a rich family, Toji acted and dressed like a fucking bum.

"Well, here goes nothin'." Gojo grabbed the money from Shoko and stepped out of the car. You made a point to duck your head despite the tinted windows, bringing your knees back to your chest in the seat.

There were some obviously exchanged words. Toji laughed. Gojo held up a "two" sign with his hand. He must be giving him two minutes to do whatever the hell he has cooked up. Toji nodded and then shook his hand. If this were anywhere other than the back of a bar, you would think they're helping each other file for insurance.

But that notion quickly diminished the minute Toji reared his scar-scratched fist back and landed a nasty hook to Gojo's left cheek that made even Shoko gasp ahead of you. You clutched both of your hands to your chest, watching your best friend take an absolute pummeling for you. Toji towered over him, landing another hit to his head before straddling him and landing one more. You couldn't watch past that, pressing the palms of your hands to your eyes.

You didn't let go of your stance until you heard the driver's side door open, and Shoko barely managed to say "Ohmygodyourface" before Gojo was laughing.

"Shit, it hurts to smile." He said, and when you looked up, it looked like he had lost a fight with a bear. His nose might have been broken, bleeding from both nostrils. His left eye was already beginning to flush purple, and his shirt and pants were ripped and dirtied from being thrown to the ground.

"Jesus Christ, you could've told him to go easy on the goods," Shoko muttered. "You might need an ER trip."

"Nah, just patch me up when we get back." He insisted, shifting the car into drive before taking off back to your and Shoko's dorm. 

"You truly are like, the bestest friend ever, Gojo." You finally spoke, looking up at him through the rearview mirror.

Gojo's icy irises met yours, squinting in a smile. "Ah, this ain't nothin'. I got worse beatings in the football locker room back in middle school."

Back at your dorm, Shoko managed to give Gojo a homemade stitch on his eyebrow from where it had split open and an ice pack, running through a quick concussion check-up before deciding he needed to spend the night just in case.

So now Gojo was lounging on Shoko's bed, flipping through a school newspaper, icepack on his forehead and glasses on in place of his contacts.

"So, when is Toji beating Geto's ass?" Shoko asked, lounging by the window to smoke a bowl.

"I paid him an extra fifty dollars to do it at the next show tomorrow." Gojo smirked, peering over at you. "Figure if we're doing this and it falls through, he at least deserves to be embarrassed." 

You blinked, sitting up on the top of Shoko's bed. "And Sukuna won't be mad?"

Gojo shrugged. "I asked about that. Toji said he's already heard enough about how pissed off he is at Geto just from the two weeks he's been back. If anything, I think this is going to be a welcome event for the band." 

You shouldn't, but that made you smile. You knew Choso would take pleasure in it, but to have Sukuna take some out of it, too? That was a different story.

"Well, I still hate that you had to basically get mauled for it to happen." You muttered, returning to your phone to send a text to Nanami about coffee. Ever since that night on the beach, Nanami had been doing some therapist-like check-ins with you, which all had been left on read until now.

"Nah." Gojo scoffed, toothy grin showcasing one of his chipped canines he would now have to get fixed.

"Geto is gonna look much worse after this weekend, anyway."

Chapter Text

You were pulling off your apron, stretching your legs out from a long day as you locked up the front of the shop, turning out the lights. You hated that the manager always made you close by yourself, especially since walking home after a long shift was always killer, but you guess you deserved it this time. You had called out or traded your shifts the past two weeks, the least you could do was close, but you wished Momo would at least walk you out before she left.

The entire month was a blitz of numbness. Even after Gojo made you feel a little better last week by getting his shit rocked by Toji to have him avenge you. You were still skipping classes, skipping work, and more importantly, skipping time with your friends.

You would just have to learn to live your life quietly.

Choso hadn't come around since the thing with Toji, and you wondered if he somehow caught wind of Geto imminent beat down, but you doubted it. Toji would stitch his lips together if it meant some extra cash.

The dark parking lot was empty except for your car and another across the way. You couldn't really make it out, but it's not like you paid any mind to it anyway. You were searching for Shoko's speed dial when the sound of footsteps behind you caused your ears to prick. Pausing, you didn't know if you should dare yourself to turn around or not. Your mind immediately twisted and went to Geto. What could he possibly want now? Has your misery not fed him enough?

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

Choso's voice. Your breath hitched, and you finally focused your eyes on the car across the parking lot now. A black Mazda. Of course.

You swallowed the nails now growing in your throat, still not turning around. You don't know if you could physically handle seeing him right now.

"I haven't been avoiding you on purpose."

"You're a really bad liar."

You exhaled, finally turning to face him. He wasn't crying, but the purple under his eyes had deepened, his hair was greasy and tied into a pitiful knot, and the sweatshirt he wore was wrinkled. It was obvious he hadn't been taking care of himself.

"Why do you still even care?" You gritted out, an iron grip on your tote bag. "All I've done is hurt you."

"Because I know that isn't you." Choso insisted, taking one step closer at a time until you had been backed into the brick of the cafe wall. "Something is happening, and you're not telling me. You're not telling any of us. Do you think I'm the only one? Even Sukuna eventually admitted he knew something was wrong, that it was more than just grades. Everyone around you is worried sick."

"They don't have to be. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. Stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying!" You exclaimed, and that's when the tears began to spill over. "I'm just tired. I'm burnt out!"

Silence followed, and only the sound of your trembling breath filled your ears. Your heartbeat thumping between the thorny vines of your chest. Your wrists shaking.

"You have As and Bs. in everything, and you have all year." He said, deadpanned. He knew he had you checkmated with that one. "Nanami showed me your grades."

Fuck. How could you forget Nanami worked as an advisor aide? You could get him in major trouble for that. What were you to say now?

"Listen. There's a lot of stuff going on much deeper than anyone would like to believe. I'm not going to get you involved in that. I never will. This is something I have to go at alone, and I've already accepted that's what I have to do for the rest of my college years."

"Who hurt you?" Choso asked, taking another step closer. You were only a foot apart now. "Or better yet, who's hurting you?"

"No one is hurting me, back the fuck off." You gritted. You didn't want to be mean to him. You wanted to be anything but mean to him, but he was cornering you. Your eyes were beady, and sweat was already lacing your hairline. It was painfully obvious you were, in fact, lying.

"What's been going on then? What's with the avoiding? Why won't you talk to me?" His voice cracked, tears rimming his right eye. Oh my god, was he about to cry? Was he really about to cry over you?

"A lot has been going on that I just don't think you're ready to know yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready."

"We haven't spoken a single word to each other in two weeks. We used to talk every single day. You've been talking to Nanami, to Gojo, to Shoko. I don't understand. Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'll tell you later." You finally choked out the words.

He croaked your name, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong! Choso Kamo, I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong. It's me being my stupid ass self and getting myself into deep shit for stupid reasons and- and-" You choked yourself up, tears threatening to spill as you ran a hand over your eye. "I've been isolating myself because it's so hard right now! Everything is fucked! I was doing so good and we were so good. I loved having you around. Everything was so great and now it's fucked and it's all because of m-" You were about to continue blabbering on before Choso took you by the nape of the neck with one hand, leaning over and smashing his lips into your own.

Your breath caught in your throat, causing you to partially choke into his mouth before quietly, slowly melting into his kiss. It had been so long since you felt your lips on his. They were so soft, so gentle, even if they demanded your touch. You had been craving him day and night in his absence, feeling the chill of the sheets beside you and reliving that night you had spent in his bed since the day after the beach show.

Now he was here, begging for you to kiss him back in the middle of the parking lot at your job two weeks later.

The two of you were just short of suffocating before you finally released from the other, panting into each other's mouths. You had wrapped your arms around his neck, grated against the wall behind you.

Choso swallowed his breath, bringing your head into his chest to envelop you in a bear hug. "I knew it. I knew something was wrong." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Christ, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." His warmth was unmatched. Like a void that had been consuming you whole was finally filled to the brim again. You were so busy writhing in your own pity that you hadn't realized how much you could be hurting everyone around you. This was hurting everyone around you. Gojo got beaten up, the band was stuck with Geto, and Choso was left without you. Everyone was left without you during this. It was like you didn't even exist.

But how could you possibly come clean to him and keep him from burning down everything for you?

You took both of his hands into yours. He was ice cold, but the nights were turning winter, and it was sure to snow soon. "Choso, if I tell you what's going on, you can't tell anyone. Okay? You can't do anything about it either. You have to promise me. No, you have to swear to me."

Choso swallowed, blinking away his own tears. He couldn't stop staring at your hands holding his own, as if he was in disbelief you were back in front of him and touching him again. His eyes finally flickered back up to yours, slowly nodding his head. "I swear."

You took a deep breath. Damnit, you were still out in the middle of public. Everything had you paranoid. "Do you think we could go to mine or yours before I tell you? It's just super sensitive." You whispered, running your fingers along his sleeved arm.

"Uh, let's go to yours." He muttered, pouting. "Uh, my place doesn't look the best- right now.. But we can take my car."

"Mine doesn't either, but sure, we can go to mine in your car."

The ride to your apartment was almost silent. You could see Choso glancing at you at almost every red light from your peripherals, but you just couldn't find it in you to stare at him just yet. The car reeked of awkwardness. You wished it were more like the movies. Where you kissed and everything was happy again, but guilt clung to you like a ball and chain. How could he possibly just forgive you like this? To crawl back to you like some kicked puppy?

You opened the door to Gojo and Shoko arguing over what to order from some cheap fast food joint, but their bickering immediately paused at the sight of Choso lingering behind you when you walked through the door. You could see how they tried to contain their shock, but Gojo dropping his phone and then muttering a slew of curses under his breath had your fingers twitching to pull your hair out. All of this was your own personal made circle of hell.

"Uhm, Choso and I are gonna be in my room." You finally said, slowly making your way over to your door.

"Uh, okay! Sounds good!" Shoko tried to smile, but it was painfully fake. That look in her eyes screamed 'we'll talk later', and you knew you would.

Choso was beside you, pointing to his left eye. "Uh, Gojo?"

Gojo's face was still healing from his pummeling. Purple hues still clustered around his left eye and a band-aid over his nose. He wore his sunglasses almost all the time for the time being. He just waved his hand, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine. You should see the other guy."

'Nice save' You thought, opening the door to your cave of a bedroom.

It was true, your room wasn't in the best shape. Clothes from work and school littered the floor, a Chinese takeout box that Shoko offered you two days ago was lying open on your nightstand, along with an entire choir of half-drunk sodas and wine. Damn, it was worse than you remembered. "Sorry for the mess. Uh, I haven't been doing so well myself." You still took an awkward seat on the side of the bed, patting the space beside you. "I get it if you'd rather do this talk like, on the stairs or something."

"No, I get it. It's been rough for both of us." He assured, sitting beside you.

You nodded, shifting to make yourself more comfortable on the bed. "Okay, Choso.. I know this is going to seem really crazy, and maybe even like I'm lying, but my story is straight."

He sat attentively, eyes staring like you hung the moon and maybe even sprinkled the stars. It killed you just how much he adored you still. "You remember that night that I missed the homecoming show?" You took another breath, blinking rapidly to keep your grounding. "Uh, and I got drugged after that... I know that now, but I don't know who, but I do know what happened."

Choso took your hands into his own again, thumb rubbing against your own. You tried to keep yourself calm, but remembering the night made you tremble. "Geto.. Geto took pictures of me. I couldn't see where, but it was definitely while I was drugged- He took off my clothes, and uh- and he has all those pictures of me now.." You had to keep your eyes off of him, but his hands alone were a vice against yours as you continued. "He cornered me in the bathroom a few days later and showed me, and said if I didn't drop the band, he would basically make sure they followed me forever."

God, this was torture. You had to look up at Choso now, and when you did, his face was red up to his ears. Not out of fluster, but out of pure rage. You could see it in the way his pupils were dilated, but he was trying, rather failing, to keep his calm for you. "And you're asking me to sit here and do nothing?"

You sighed. "This is exactly why I did everything I could to not tell you."

Choso stood up from your bed, pacing to try and outrun some of his anger, shaking out the urge to punch a hole through your poor drywall. You were sure that if Geto were to run into him in the next few months, maybe even years, he would do much worse. You wouldn't even do so much as gasp if Geto were found dead somewhere in a ditch. And he was going to have to see him this weekend to play with him. At least if Toji kept his word, he would already be pretty black and blue.

He ran his hands through his hair, rubbing them down to the back of his neck before finally turning to you with his arms out, defeated. His hair was pulled from his half-bun, draping his face. He was so pretty like this. "I can't face this piece of shit without punching his face in now, and you know it."

"Toji is gonna take care of that." You muttered, pointing to your bedroom door where Gojo was outside. "He kind of made a deal with him."

"So they know? Who else knows?" Choso finally took an actual breath, coming to sit back down by the bed.

"They're the only two, and the only reason they know is because I slipped up when I was drunk."

Choso's eyes circled the circumference of your body, examining to see if there was any sign of Geto putting his hands on you. When there were none, he brought a hand up to your nape, pulling it close to kiss your forehead. "I guess I do get why now you felt you needed to keep this from me, because if I found that out as it happened, my face would be the last thing that dick ever sees."

You nodded along. "Yeah, I figured. I'm sorry."

He hummed, nodding to your apology. "Uh, and sorry if I stink- or if you wanna be left alone. And sorry that I kind of stalked you. I just couldn't take not knowing what I did wrong anymore."

You shook your hand, running your fingers along his hair. It was a little greasy, but he didn't stink. He still smelt of his cologne and just a hint of cigarette smoke. You wondered if he smoked more while you were gone. "You smell fine, Cho. Probably better than me."

He huffed a weak laugh, shaking his head. "Smells like flowers to me."

And that's when you laughed. A real laugh. It almost came as a shock to you. You hadn't genuinely laughed in weeks. In fact, you would argue you haven't truly laughed since the laugh time you saw Choso. He had somehow become everything to you, and it was obviously you had been everything to him for a long time now.

It was when the room drew to a quiet that you really got a chance to admire each other.

After a moment of leaning into each other's aura, Choso finally spoke. "Could I maybe snag another kiss before I leave?"

You smiled, thanking whatever God that may be out there that Choso was the man that he was. That he could forgive you after you were the most uncommunicative and emotionally constipated person on Earth. You wouldn't say he loved you just yet, but it was approaching something of that nature. "You don't have to ask." You whispered, leaning in and connecting your lips with his. It was much softer this time. Something that was methodical instead of hasty, like the kiss from the parking lot.

Nothing could keep you from him. You were sure of that now. Geto could hang your entire life above your head, and you would let him if it meant keeping Choso at your side. That just made you want him even more, sliding your tongue along his lips.

Choso readily accepted your offer, bringing your face closer before shooting his hands down to your hips. What was supposed to be a sweet goodnight kiss had melted into the yearning the two of you had bottled up for almost the past month now. Your hands were in his hair, and he was using his grasp on your hips to pull you into his lap.

You were straddling him when you pulled away, a small string of spit flowing from your lips.

"Stay the night." Your breath fanned against his lips, eyes half-lidded. 

Choso smiled. Something you thought you would never get to see again. Geto still had you under his thumb, but you were beginning to understand that nothing would take Choso away from you. Maybe now you could stop running from him and start running to him. He would prove that to you. Over and over again.

"I was hoping you'd say that."