his overbearing nature led to your relationship with him being twisted to competitive love from the very beginning. you didn't understand how getou and shoko could put up with his condescending smirk, eyes looking down at you with a permanent sneer, the ease in which he could click his fingers and the enemies around you would drop dead, his face when he waits for you to beat that, or better yet, to praise him
"yeah whatever, good job, gojo."
"can you say that again? i didn't start recording yet."
competitions upon competitions, every small thing becomes a heated battle. who can get up earlier, who can throw a slice of bread into the toaster from behind this line, who can get shoko to smile first, who can steal getou's pen without getting caught, who can draw on yaga's face without getting detention, who can hit double-digit completed missions in one day, race you to the classroom!
but despite the insults you both exchange, you find yourself comfortably depending on him when the time calls, and vice versa. bodies thrown into a dance upon a battlefield, backs to one another holding down the forte with only trust communicated behind closed mouths.
and when the loss of a friend haunts closed eyes, you find yourself in gojo's rare silence, drinking in the moonlight and the what if's. he'll let you in without a word, without a single utterance of confirmation, simply letting you cry out your broken heart in his finite embrace
𓃠 › getou
you could be fooled by his nonchalant attitude and carefree posture, thinking him first to be a rather distant friend but discovering later that he was the most observant of the trio. whether it be the casual drop of your favourite movie or the mention of a pet, getou seems to remember every small detail. he'll be the first to offer you his jacket when the slightest shiver overcomes you, but also the first to tease you when tears fill your lashline during a sad movie
which is most likely why you and him were in charge of every birthday party, taking small dates to your local supermarket and picking apart every purchase, finding fun behind halloween masks and easter bunny headbands. sometimes, you'll find yourselves thrown out of the shop despite getou's attempts to woo the manager. eventually though, they'll fall for his caring charm like they all do, whilst you roll your eyes at his facade
"getou, i'm dead."
"put that skeleton back before we get kicked out again."
watching a cruel smile take over getou's face, you're unnerved at how unlike himself he seemed. no wait, perhaps you should be more concerned at how your dead friend was standing before you now, patient like how you knew him, but painted in unfamiliarity with the blood of friends. he doesn't immediately find himself at your side when his eyes search your figure and find the gaping wound at your hip, he wasn't there to cover you when curses had leapt at your vulnerable stance, no, instead he was the perpetrator
this wasn't the getou you knew
𓃠 › shoko
with your dorms right next to each other, its easy for you both to sneak into each other's rooms. muffled giggles behind trembling palms, walking on your toes, fearing the creak of wooden boards or the clatter of slamming doors. bated breaths lay dormant in your mouths and sometimes when your eyes catch in the filtering moonlight, they'll release in giggles
on the days you return from missions early, and the silence of the corridors feed the brewing uncertainties in your stomach, you'll find purchase in her room, comfort in the familiarity of cigarette smoke and fresh laundry. when she finds you curled up in her bed, it isn’t the words of disgust that leaves her mouth and instead, she simply asks if you want to watch a horror movie
it’s therapeutic, screaming away your worries in darkness, her face, usually expressionless now alit with mild fear and the glow from the screen, just enough to ground you in the present. the feeling of her hand in yours, holding on like she’s your lifeline, though she never gives up the opportunity to keep you on the edge.
“... BOO!”
“shoko, what the fuck?”
and when the sun rolls over to kiss the skies, you’ll realise you spent another sleepless night in shoko’s room. while you trudge to class, the lack of sleep catching up, shoko will appear as functional and sane as ever. she may watch and snicker, joining in on the teasing, but she’ll help keep you awake by picking up a pen and doodling on your arm, sometimes silly caricatures of gojo and getou, or outlandish comics and other shenanigans that’ll cause you to accidentally laugh out loud, and land you both in detention. but by then, your nighttime terrors will seem like only a blurry memory
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