the hallway outside satoru’s apartment always felt a little too bright.
the fluorescent light above his door flickered softly, like it was tired of doing its job, and the stairwell carried the faint echo of other students moving in and out of their own lives—distant footsteps, a door closing somewhere below, a muffled laugh that disappeared almost as soon as it appeared.
you adjusted the paper bag in your hands and knocked.
the door opened just enough for you to see him first.
satoru stood there like he had been arguing with time itself and was losing.
his white hair was messier than usual, pushed back in uneven sections like he’d run his hands through it too many times. dark circles sat faintly under his eyes, and his hoodie looked like it had been worn for at least two days straight without complaint. one sleeve was slightly rolled up, the other wasn’t. his glasses sat a little crooked on his nose.
“…hi,” he said, like he wasn’t entirely sure you were real.
you lifted the bag slightly. “you forgot how to function again, didn’t you?”
a small exhale. almost a laugh. he stepped aside quickly, letting you in like the idea of you disappearing might actually be a problem he couldn’t solve.
“i didn’t forget,” he said, closing the door behind you with a soft click. “i’m just… midterm-adjacent nonfunctional.”
you kicked off your shoes near the entrance, already familiar with the layout of his apartment in that quiet, domestic way that still felt slightly unreal sometimes. books were scattered across his coffee table in uneven stacks, sticky notes peeking out from every angle. a laptop sat open on the couch, paused on a lecture video that looked like it had been replayed three times without absorbing anything.
satoru followed you into the room like he was still half-processing your presence.
you held up the bag again. “i brought food.”
his eyes dropped immediately to it.
then his shoulders dropped like something inside him finally gave up resisting.
you snorted. “you say that every time i bring you food.”
“because every time you bring me food, i experience joy and briefly understand the meaning of life.”
you set the bag down on the coffee table, carefully pushing aside a stack of notes labeled quantum something something i will cry later. satoru had already moved closer, peeking inside like a very tall, very exhausted cat discovering dinner.
you watched him for a second.
this version of him was still strange to you sometimes.
not the confident, loud version people described in passing.
the one who forgot to eat when he studied too long. the one who got stressed so deeply it showed up in the way his shoulders stayed tense even when he was sitting down. the one who looked at you like you were the only thing that didn’t require equations to understand.
“you’ve been studying all day again,” you said.
he sighed, already caught, and dropped onto the couch with a soft thud, leaning his head back against it. “okay, fine. i’ve been studying aggressively.”
you sat beside him, pulling the container of pho out of the bag. the steam curled upward immediately, warm and fragrant, filling the small apartment with something that made everything feel softer.
satoru turned his head slightly toward you. “you didn’t have to come over.”
you handed him chopsticks.
he took them carefully, like there was still something new about being given things by you.
then, almost hesitantly, he asked, “are you… busy?”
that seemed to settle something in him.
he nodded once, then reached for his laptop. “movie?”
you smiled slightly. “sure.”
he opened it, clicking through tabs with the focused intensity of someone defusing a bomb. after a moment of indecision, he turned the screen toward you.
“okay,” he said seriously. “this one has good ratings.”
“i don’t know yet. i haven’t watched it.”
“it’s the only answer i have.”
you laughed quietly as he finally hit play.
and immediately, satoru started talking.
“that’s not how that works,” he said within the first five minutes, pointing at the screen with his chopsticks like he was teaching a class. “physically speaking, if that system collapses like that, the—okay wait, pause—”
you nudged him lightly with your shoulder. “just watch it.”
“i am watching it,” he said seriously. “and correcting it.”
“im enhancing your understanding.”
he looked at you like that was the highest compliment.
you opened your mouth, then closed it because unfortunately, he was right. he did this all the time. talked through movies, pointed out facts no one asked for, explained things that didn't ned explaining. and somehow, instead of being annoying, it felt like… him.
like letting you sit inside of his brain for a while.
you leaned back slightly, still eating your pho, listening as he continued breaking down the plot like it was a case study.
and then, gradually, he slowed down. not because the movie got better, but because he did. his shoulders loosened at first. then his voice softened. then his explanations turned into half-finished comments between his bites of food.
by the time you were both halfway through your bowls, his head has started to tilt toward you.
"you're tired." you said quietly.
"i'm not," he mumbled automatically, then paused. "…okay. maybe a little." you shifted on the couch, adjusting the blanket draped over the back. "come here."
satoru hesitated for half a second like his brain had to process the instruction.
like he wasn't entirely sure he was allowed. he rested his head against your shoulder first, then—after another moment—let his arm slide around your waist, pulling himself closer in a way that was awkward at first, then gradually more natural as he settled.
you adjusted automatically, letting him fit into you instead of the other way around.
the movie kept playing in the background, but neither of you were really watching it anymore. satoru's voice came out softer now. "i think i'm going to fail one of them."
you glanced down at him. his eyes were half-lidded now, exhaustion finally catching up to him in full. the tension in his face had eased completely, replaced by something quieter. something that looked a lot like trust.
"because you panic every midterm season," you said, brushing your fingers lightly over his hair, "and then you get your grades back and act like you weren't losing your mind the whole time."
he made a small sound that might've been a laugh. "you pay too much attention to me."
"you're my boyfriend." you said simply.
that made him go quiet. like he didn't fully understand how he got here.
how someone like you—calm, steady, always knowing what to do—ended up choosing him in the middle of all his chaos.
after a moment, he shifted. tightening his arm around you just a little.
"…I like that." he admitted.
"when you say it like that."
you hummed softly. "like what?"
your fingers slowed in his hair.
"…it is obvious," you say gently.
satoru didn't respond right away. instead, he just leaned further into you, like that answer had finally turned something off inside his brain.
the movie kept playing quietly. huh breathing evened out slowly against your shoulder. and at some point, his voice dropped into something almost asleep.
"don't leave," he mumbled.
you looked down at him again. his eyes were closed now, completely relaxed and safe. "I'm right here," you say softly. his grip on your waist tightened, like his body was making sure of it even in sleep.
and a few minutes later, satoru gojo—who could solve equations that made other students cry, but still didn't know how to be in love properly—fell asleep on your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
