⸻

Satoru doesnt know how long it has been since he started giggling and blushing on the coach in thoughts of you flooding his mind. Maybe 2? or was it 3 hours? He’s not sure. His mirror is surely fed up with him saying those stupid lines in order for you to dance with him. And guess what? He’s still saying them. Over and over and over again. 

Suguru wasn’t wrong when he called Satoru lovesick. Satoru was—apparently—in love, to the point where he was sick whenever you were out of his sight.

Last night when you left, he let out what was called the biggest breath any human could hold, and then fell helplessly against the coach where he started blushing and blabbering nonsense about how there was this butterfly garden inside him that's throwing a party. 

Nanami called him doomed. Choso called him cute. And Suguru called him lovesick. But behind all those teasing and mockery, they knew this was a good sign. His name stopped entering girl’s conversations when he fell for you, and he whatsoever has no attempt of going to any bars anymore. Honestly, it was the first time they saw this side of Satoru. The side where he’s vulnerable, raw, sincere and it was the first time they saw him deeply in love. 

She’s the one, he would say reapeatedly that night. God, they were probably grossed out because of the amount of times your name came up in their conversation. And when he opened his photo gallery, oh god. It was a heaven of pictures. Not of him, but you. Hell, he didn’t even remember taking that much pictures of you last night. There were even pictures of you and him dancing. Did his friends take those pictures? He wasn’t sure, nor does he care, because the only thing he cared about right now, was how you looked gorgeous in every photo. 

So now this is him the day after. Kicking his feet like an excited 12 year old speaking to their crush for the first time at your pictures and reciting everything from last night’s events. 

“She’s soooo pretty…” he mumbles into his pillow he was hogging before continueing to giggle. If you saw him right now, you would’ve bursted into laughter at his state. But who were you to be talking when you were in the same fate as him?

None of you were sane enough at this point to be picking on each other.

On your side, just a wall apart, you had notes spread out all over the table, the house you were in was clean and tidy. Floors sparkling, windows shining, table dusted. Everything spotlessly cleaned.

That was all an attempt to stop thinking about what was done and said last night.

Please, dance with me?

“No.” bang. “No.” bang. “No.” bang. 

Yep, that was you, for the (you counted) 38th time you have been head-banging the table in order to shoo your thoughts on him away. It must've left a bruise at this point.

But you couldn't help but remember the way his shirt showed his toned muscles underneath, his chest was so sturdy when you waltzed with him, his–

“NO!” you shot your head up, you were pretty sure that shout was louder than you expected it to be. Maybe he heard? You didn’t know. You couldn't make yourself care for anything else. Your brain was now occupied, but not by your own will.

This state of yours, whatever it was called, was brand new. You didn’t do boys. As in, you didn’t do the loving and liking and fucking, whatever. But right now, maybe you’re trying something new. Truth to be told, you hate it, but also like it at the same time. God you were messed up. Mentally and physically. There goes your life long promise of never letting a boy wreck your mind this easily. 

Your hair was already a mess (although he always loved your messy buns), eye bags heavy, glasses slipping down your nose. You were trying so hard to get him off your mind; too late—he’s already living there rent-free.

It's 9:44 in the morning, and you're just sitting here, unable to function properly. Your mom would've slapped you on the spot if she knew how you became like this. But it feels like you're forgetting something. Something... important. 

It was scary actually, of all the things you could've remembered, you chose to remember as much details as you can remember from last night. Like the way his hands were warm, his eyes were soft, his body heat, his–

Ring Ring!

Thank god that stopped you from thinking about him any further. It was your daily alarm. A reminder you had class in–

“SHIT! I HAVE CLASS IN 15 MINUTES.”

God you were too busy daydreaming and didn’t even realise you had class. Usually, there wasn't supposed to be this lesson today, but since today was the day groups started to present their presentations, the professor decided to make everyone present for a short period. Yours was the day after, not today (thankfully). 

You moved like clockwork after that. Hoodie changed into a green sweater, bang slung over your shoulders, hair combed and loose again, water bottle in hand, you headed straight for the door.

And the moment you opened it, you regretted it. There he was. The boy you were trying so hard not to think about. 3 steps away from you, also at his door.

“Oh.” you both said at the same time.

And yes, oh god was his heart beating fast too. He was twinning with you somehow, stuck in a daydream of you and is now running late to class too — the class you both shared together.

How great the timing was.

“Late for class too?” he scratched the back of his head.

You nodded. You wouldn’t be dumb enough to trust your voice at this moment.

You walked side by side toward the bus stop, a careful half-step apart. Not touching. Not looking. The air between you felt thick, electric, like one wrong movement would set it off. You felt him stealing little glances, like wanting to say something. But you didn’t want to acknowledge it, knowing that if you did, this would take another devastating turn.

Luckily, the bus arrived just in time to your arrival, although it did seem like the universe was laughing at you at this point, because it was packed. You and Satoru managed to wiggle through the sea of students, fabrics brushing together and bodies being compressed. Only to find what you call a universal joke. There were only 2 seats left. And by all means, this was straight out of a novel. The part when the male lead would catch the female lead mid fall when the bus was stopping or something? Ring any bells? Yeah, you’d be sure not to let that happen. He already caught you once and left you spiralling enough, you wouldn’t need a second to double up the damage.

“You sit.” he offered, standing beside your seat.

He was also thinking about the same thing. What if you fell and he gets the honor of catching you again? That had him pressing his lips together tight. He wouldn't want to be some weirdo smiling all of a sudden.

You managed to mumble a small ‘thanks’ before sitting down. To your surprise, the bus was full of students from your class, all running late. Oh so that’s why it’s filled. You thought to yourself. It was as if they were waiting for some kind of scene that was happening.

For the entire ride, you can’t help but feel Satoru fidgeting while standing next to you.

Should you ask him? Maybe not. But what if you made him uncomfortable? Okay. This is bad. Why would you care? You were supposed to be his rival. You shouldn’t be sitting around, caring for people’s comfort.

Fine. Okay curiosity, you win.

“You okay? You’re fidgeting a lot.” You looked up, meeting his gaze.

“Sorry— I–Uhm. Was I bothering you?” he asked sheepishly. 

“No, no, just wondering if there’s something on your mind.” You asked, completely oblivious of the hurricane that he was going through.

You were on his mind. Your ivory satin dress, the way your waist fitted so well with his hands, the way your arms draped so perfectly ontop of his broad shoulders, the way your head rested against his chest, the way he might be able to experience it again, the way—

“Satoru?” you quirked a brow at his sudden zone out.

“huh? Oh, uhm, no, just a little tired I guess.” he blinked, suddenly being dragged back into reality. He was definitely not tired. It was you running laps in his head, wearing him down one intrusive thought at a time.

As if on cue, the bus slowed, brakes squealing as it approached your stop. You stood up carefully, one hand gripping the pole, bag slung securely over your shoulder. You will not fall,you reminded youurself, this won’t become a novel or movie scene. You’re a functioning adult, you can handle getting on and off the bus just fine.

The universe, apparently, disagreed.

The bus jerked violently as someone shoved past near the front, and your balance was gone in an instant. Your foot slipped, body tilting forward—

And there it was again.

Warm. Solid. Familiar.

Satoru’s hand snapped to your waist without hesitation like he was waiting for it to happen (he has), steadying you before your brain could even register the fall. His other hand braced against the seat, caging you in just for a second too long.

Again.

This feeling, the one you just registered last night, was all here again. The breath catching, butterflies fluttering feeling. And for a moment, the world stopped again. It was only your widended eyes with his. Your hitched breath with his eyes drifting towards your lips. For a second, everyone in the bus stopped moving too, every student stopped, all heads turning towards you. Part of you needed him to let go, the other begging his hand to stay.

“Oh yeah, they’re definitly dating now.” a student whispered way too loud.

Satoru must've gotten slapped by reality at that. Because the next second, his brain suddenly short circuited, and before he could even comprehend what he was doing, his hands had immediately dropped you before you could even stabilize yourself. And yes, infront of around 30 students. You fell. Tumbled down the bus floor.

Thud.

“Ow…” You rubbed your butt, sitting up slightly. Heat crawling up your neck.

Satoru only realized what he has done after hearing the loud thud. Poor you had turned into a tomato at this point. 

“Oh— Oh my god, Im so–god–so sorry.” He aplogized, scrambling for your hand, in which you took without much hesitation. Bad idea. The contact was so electric, it burned. And it was you who ripped your hand away. Resulting in you dropping down. Again.

Another thud.

Damn you static electricity. Damn you.

The bus can sit and have popcorns at this Temu Kdrama at this point. Actually, they already are. Invitations were no longer necessary, this scene was that entertaining after all.

“No no, I’m fine, I can stand up on my own.” You huffed, rejecting Satoru’s hand and apology for the 2nd time. “I’m a grown woman, I can stand up.” you brushed your shoulders and stood up abruptly.

God, even the bus driver swiped back for a look, and when the bus doors finally open and the heads finally turn away, you were able to dash straight out there.

What a way to start your morning…

⸻

You remembered being raised by a very wealthy, polished family. Which meant things like falling repeatedly on public transport simply did not happen. Ever. It was undignified. Unrespectable. And now? The entire class was whispering about you and satoru like last night’s events didn’t haunt you enough. You’re not mentally nor physically prepared for the mass spreading rumors that were bound to come, but prior to your experiences, you were quite sure it won’t end well on your side.

Today was the day people were supposed to present about their researched disease, and the audience is supposed to take notes. But no. Your brain seems to have other plans. Every once in a few seconds, it happens again.

Please, dance with me?

Hell, you even had to slap yourself awake a few times to make sure you caught on with what the presenters were saying. The notes in your book didn’t even make sense anymore—half sentences, arrows pointing to nothing, random underlined words with no context. And sometimes, you’d find yourself writing his name while half listening to the presenter. Which obviously, made your spine straighten on instinct and dive for the eraser before anyone next to you can see what you’ve written. 

God, it was embarrassing. To be fumbling this hard over a boy. You were going to be a doctor in five years, for fuck’s sake—and here you were, throwing logic out the window because of him.

An absolute joke.

You had always asked yourself: What's Harder than Biology? 

The answer was clear now, it was: Trying to focus in class when all you can think of in your mind is Gojo Satoru.

You're not doing good.

A few rows back, Satoru wasn’t doing any better. Instead of taking notes, his eyes were trained on you. Fingers gripping his pen with ever so much focus, someone must’ve thought he’ll invent a new way of breaking plastic. But no. His focus was perfectly reserved for sketching. Sketching your sitting figure on his notebook. Capturing the way you look from behind, the slope of your shoulders, the fall of your hair and the occasional side profile he’ll get a glimpse of. But as he was sketching, his gaze so taunting, the professor had to check in.

“Satoru?” the professor called. “Is Y/N’s hair looking extra nice today, or is there another reason you’ve been staring?”

The class erupted in mild laughter. Every eye in the room finding it’s way to Satoru who had now had his pen frozen mid-stroke in his deafening grip. You eye was now wondering over to him too, just in time to see his eyes shut tight in embarrasment while yours were blown apart. Ears refusing to believe what you just heard.

Today had to be world embarrasment day. There was simply no logical explanation for this many humiliating incidents happening in such a short span of time. It felt unreal.

“No, miss,” Satoru said quickly, scrambling. “I was just… zoning out.”

“In the middle of a well-prepared presentation?” she hummed. “Well, Satoru, I’d expect nothing less from you and your partner. But if you like sketching her so much, I’m sure she’d be happy to sit with you.”

Your professor was quite known around the campus, to the point where they called her Miss Insight. Why? Because of times like this. When she knows the insights by just looking. Hell, maybe she knew even more than you do just by looking (she does). And the thing is, she won’t be afraid to point it out nor comment on it. A reason why you like and dislike her so much. 

And right now, Satoru had already stuffed his face in his arms. Head bended down in such a sharp angle he knew his neck would hurt after. Oh how he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Because if sketching you was a crime, Satoru would already be serving a life sentence. 

But no surprise to anyone, it’s not like you’ll ever know about it.

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur. You found it nearly impossible to focus, eyes betraying you every few minutes as they drifted back toward him on instinct alone. Sometimes, when you looked, he was already looking.

And every single time your gazes met, it felt like misstepping in the middle of a dance — sudden, jarring, humiliating.

Your neck snapped forward again immediately, heat crawling up your face. You pretended very hard to be fascinated by your notes. The same notes you hadn’t actually written anything useful in for the past twenty minutes.

"Ok, thank you presenters," she gestured towards the 2 students in the front. "That'll be all for today. Class dismissed." Your professor announced, leaving the classroom with her coffee cup.

Your brain somehow managed to come up with a plan after all that. A safe plan. Wait till everyone leaves, then leave. Slowly and quietly. Why? Because going slow meant no mistakes, and mistakes meant, well, hands on waists and whispered rumors.

Satoru would be dumb if he said you weren't acting weird all day. He could tell he messed with your little brain for the amount of times he had caught you like that. Not going to lie, he wasn't regretting those experiences. Again, it wouldn't be fair if he was the only one left to spiral around.

You were planning something. He knew that. Usually, you'd be leaving class just as fast as the rest was. It was only him who's this slow on a daily basis. Hey, he had sketches to keep. And he noticed you were turning back to him way more often than you would ever. On normal days, it would be him looking at you and that only. You never even blinked in his direction, but today? You were stealing glances repeatedly.

All these actions were so foreign to you. Were you mad at him? Pray to heavens you weren't. He didn't mean to let go like that earlier. If only that student didn't speak, he would've wish to hold on forever. God knows how long he had been crushing on you like this. But maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to have some hope. He messed with you for a reason after all. When it comes to you, everything seems reasonable. So maybe, you liking him back would be reasonable too.

But right now, he had a problem. You weren't leaving class. And that was not good. He was guessing you're mad? Well, who wouldn't be if they fell like that?

"Hey," he called out to you, making you flinch.

You turned your head back, "Hm?"

“I wanted to ask if you’re, you know,” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay after that?”

You froze.

Out of anything, you wouldn't expect that from him. 

For a second you didn't answer. Not that you didn't hear him. No. It was just that, you'd expected teasing, not this. This was new. The Satoru you knew just a week ago would never have done anything like this.

"Im fine." You shrugged, "Just a little embarrassed, I guess."

He hummed, "I figured." A pause. "But I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have done that– I mean, well... I panicked. So yeah, I guess that's all on me."

You nodded eyes drifting around the now empty lecture hall. The silence settled between you, this time heavier. Awkward. Silence so heavy, you could hear how Satoru's breath changed.

"I uh, I have another class soon, I should—" 

“We do,” he cut in. “We share classes, remember?” A grin tugged at his lips. “Wanna walk together? Bet you’ll get lost.”He teased.

There he was. The Satoru you were used to. The one you’d almost missed.

“Tch. You’ve been here just as long as I have,” you scoffed, pushing his shoulder. “If anyone’s getting lost, it’s you. Actually—go first. I don’t wanna make another scene.”

His lips twitched. "Right, cause that wasn't nearly dramatic enough."

You shot him a look right at that. The side-eye landing as something funny rather than threatening like you wanted it to be. 

For a moment, his grinned widened. He was enjoying this too much. And you caught the way his stupid little grin lingered as he walked out first, hand giving a lazy wave behind his back as he left, leaving you there, still thinking how duality this man has. It's crazy actually. From sheepish loverboy Satoru to the idiot annoying Satoru. You never know what to expect from him, and yet, even with all those reasons, you still found one to walk out of the lecture hall with a smile.

Maybe he wasn't the one with a little duality.

⸻

Surprisingly, for the rest of the day, you found yourself having the superhuman ability to focus again. Was it because of the little conversation last class you had? Probably. But not that it matters anyway. What matters was that you were back at it now. Mind on autopilot again once all your classes were over.

You created yourself a masterplan. You needed to leave before he does. Maybe even walk home, let the sweat drag your thoughts out of you. You hope it would. You'd be pretty damned if it doesn't.

You were his rival weren't you? Academic rivals. And academic rivals aren't supposed to be like this. Whatever this is called, you were quite certain from your previous schooling years that rivals weren't supposed to think about each other in this way anyways.

But what you didn't know was how intentional all of it had been, how hard he was trying, just to get you thinking. 

God knows how much he tries. Trust him when he says he has zero awards from high school. He was coasting his entire way through — until senior year, where he started seriously locking in, and thanks to his extra curricular efforts, he was able to slide a slot in at Harvard. That alone was enough to inflate his ego.

But when he saw you? He knew that coasting wouldn't be an option. Because as he sat and think about it, the shortest and most effective way of him wiggling his way into your mind was to earn his way in. Because if there was one thing he knew about you, it was this: you noticed competence. Effort. Consistency. 

It was simple to think about. He just needed to chase you where you couldn't ignore him. Get the best grades possible and your attention will automatically shift to him.

Truth to be told, it was actually really hard to keep up. But for the sake of you and only you, he had to. Late nights. Perfect scores. Ranking beside you, then above you. Because below would mean nothing, and nothing would mean no you. But through all the exhaustion, yeah, he still found it reasonable. 

If studying harder made you look at him twice, that was reasonable.

Reasonable had to be his motto by now.

And yeah—that was how it was for him. Everything, no matter how unhinged it sounded, was reasonable.

You were already half way down the hall, legs working extra hard to not look like you're running, but also going fast enough to succeed in your clean escape masterplan.

The doors were in front of you, just one push–

"Y/N," 

Oh fuck.

"Y/N," the voice called, louder this time.

It wouldn't be a problem if you couldn't recognize the voice, but the thing is, you recognized it instantly the moment you heard the very first syllable.

You halt. A long dramatic sigh escaping your lips. And hesitatingly, painfully slowly, you turned your head back.

And there he is. The boy you were dreaming about one class ago, but now miraculously managed to shove him out of your mind for a solid hour, was here ready to haunt you all over again.

Please, dance with me?

"Oh my god," you dragged your hands down your face, "Not again," you groaned.

You see, this is how your brain functions when it sees him. Like a broken record, it just churns and turns until the same familiar line comes up again. Hell, you're going to get a headache, nonetheless.

"That hyped to see me?" He bent down to your level a little, smug smile playing on his face. "Honestly, I'm flattered. And wouldn't you be so rude to leave without me, aren't we still project partners?" He grinned.

"Spare me, Satoru," you rolled your eyes, "If there's any reaction I'll give you, it'll be anything but hyped."

He hummed, pretending to think, then smirked, "So… love is still on the table, then?”

Okay. 

Now, what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"You wish," you scoffed. You could've said yes. The annoying part of you wanted to. But you weren't reckless enough to drain the entire pond just because you're thirsty.

You knew better than to check in and out of someone's heart like that.

"Relax," he said lightly, "Annoying you is just on my daily agenda, that's all."

That was a lie. Both of you knew that. But at this stage, both of you knew something—but neither any of you wanted to admit it.

Satoru glanced at you from the corner of his eye. You were gripping that bag strap of yours till it ripped. You were nervous. Obviously.

Cute.

"So," he started casually, placing his palms behind his head—purposely letting his muscles flex. "Are you always running a beeline escape after class like that, or am I just that special?"

You shot him a sharp glare. “If ‘special’ means you’re the reason I need to escape, then yes. I’ll agree with you.”

A smile tugged on his lips, "Ouch," he clutched his chest, feigning hurt. "And here I thought I was charming."

"No lie..." You muttered a little too loud before you could stop yourself. Hand flying immediately to your mouth as you snapped your head down.

Too late.

He heard it. Every. Syllable.

And of course, he froze. Like a kid seeing how steep the rollercoaster climb really was, this is the part where the ride went up up up. The brief breathless moment when it stuttered a stop at the top before dropping down. Nothing feels better than being at the top. 

And that was exactly how he was feeling.

Being at the top. Not grades, not competitions. No. Just you and your little words, that was all it took to bring him up up up.

Slowly, he grinned from ear to ear. Something strange bubbling in his chest.

"See?" He teased, "Reasonable."

You hated that you could feel the heat from just your palms resting on your cheeks alone. As a student studying to become a doctor, this was surely an unhealthy amount of blood rushing to your face.

"Sh–shut up. Th–that was nothing." You managed.

But if this was what nothing felt like, you're terrified of what something would do to you.

"You do you," he sing-songed. "But just a reminder, we have our presentations coming up." He glanced at your contracted figure, "Better get those mirrors bored of our lines."

His mirror was already bored. He didn't need to overstimulate it.

"I know." You huffed. "Not looking forward to it whatsoever."

He hummed, "You'll do well."

If someone had six eyes, they'd probably see the prodigious amount of honestly pouring out of him.

That surprised you. Hell, you thought it was sarcasm for a second.

"...Hopefully." You breathed, "Then I can finally relax."

"Sure will."

"Alright Einstein, I'll see you tomorrow, I'm heading for a detour." You halted, facing him.

"Yeah, but go light on the caffeine." He started walking away slowly, head still turning slightly towards you to finish what he has to say. "Those extra whipped cream less ice lattes of yours will give you high sugar and blood pressure rather than fuel you for your lines."

You blinked.

You didn't know what surprised you more. His honesty or him knowing your usual order. Was he a spy? More like a stalker. But right now, he was more like a stunner. Stunning you on the spot as he left campus. Figure casting shadows as he walked towards the sunset. You always knew he was beautiful. But maybe you'll even consider his personality beautiful.

Maybe just maybe. 

And if reasonable was his motto, maybe would be yours.

Because you weren't sure of anything, nor do you care about it anymore. This you was new. The old you always wanted certainty. But the new you seem to like a little maybe.

And if you were being honest, you didn't dislike this idea of new you. Maybe you were ready for a little change. Maybe even a little challenge.

a/n: not proofread so don't be shy to point out any mistakes!!

tag list: @cynosure-gaze @happyyya

Bully

General HCs

Main Trio

Jimmy, Gary and Pete as older/younger siblings

Greasers

Greasers with a little/younger sibling

Character x Fem!Reader HCs

Main Trio

Pete x Badass!GF Reader

Nerds

Beatrice & Earnest x Badass!GF Reader

Preppies

Tom Gurney x Fem!Reader x Parker Ogilvie

Bullies

Tom Gurney x Fem!Reader x Parker Ogilvie

Ethan Robinson x motherly, doting GF!Reader

Greasers

Hal Esposito x motherly, doting GF!Reader

Character x Masc!Reader HCs

Preppies

Preppies x Punk!BF Reader

Character x GN!Reader HCs

Jimmy Hopkins as your BF

Agere HCs

Main Trio

Gary, Pete, and Jimmy as regressor/caregiver

Jimmy, Pete, and Gary as regressor/caregiver when sad or acting out

Preppies

Regressor!Tad Spencer x Caregiver!Reader Headcanons

Greasers

Caregiver!Hal Esposito & Lucky De Luca x Regressor!Reader

Nerds

Regressor!Beatrice Trudeau x Caregiver!Reader

Jocks

Caregiver!Ted Thompson x Regressor!Reader

Townies

Regressor!Leon x Caregiver!Reader

Character x Character HCs

Preppies

Justin Vandervelde x Bif Taylor

Works in Progress/TBA

(to keep track of current requests)

Main Trio

Jimmy, Gary, Pete x Reader who asks to be in a poly relationship

Jimmy, Gary, Pete x Headmaster's Kid!Reader

Jimmy & Gary x AFAB!Reader who dresses and acts masculine

Bullies

None!

Preppies

Preppies x Greaser!Reader

Derby Harrington x Headmaster's Kid!Reader

Greasers

Greasers x Prep!Reader

Johnny Vincent x Reader with anxiety

How Greasers feel about PDA

Johnny Vincent x Headmaster's Kid!Reader

Greasers x Reader who owns a lot of plushies

Jocks

Jocks x Buff!Reader who can lift them

Mandy Wiles x Headmaster's Kid!Reader

Townies

⸻

2 weeks into the project

“Why not come to my house? We’re neighbours anyways,” he says casually. 

He’s not serious is he? For him, it’ll be so easy to get invite someone to his house that he’s now so casual about it. But you definitely weren’t on the same page as him.

“Are you kidding? No. Why would I?” You continued, “I know a person like you could lure those chicks in easily, but nope. Not me. Not doing it.” You planted your feet at your doorstep.

“Seriously, are we going to crash the playground again? Those kids probably never saw real words in their life and we're just sitting there, showing them hell?” He groaned. 

“Being considerate? That’s new.” You rolled your eyes.

He shot you a glare right at that. It probably took another 15 minutes of persuading for you to actually step 2 steps towards his door. And when he opened with a ‘God, finally…’ you were quite amused.

His house was neat. Neater than you expected. You always thought it would be a war-zone of socks under the bed, dirty clothes on unmade beds. Couch and living room heavy with trash. 

But no. It was neat. 

Couch cozy and dusted. Living room smelled of some woody cologne. Bedroom- Nah, you don’t know about that. His living room and kitchen was as far as you managed. And all those places were dusted and cleaned. Not a single misplaced item. Did this guy have OCD? You’re not sure.

“You look like you stepped onto mars. C’mon. Shoes there, bag on the couch and just sit on the chairs next to the counter. I’ll get you some tea or water, whatever.” He instructed, pointing here and there.

You nodded slowly, you were still thinking about the orientation of his house. It’s like he was flipping your mind upside down. He has layers, surprisingly.

“Are you an onion?” You blurted out before you can stop yourself and regretted it immediately.

“Why? ‘Cause you think I stink?” He raised a brow, clearly taken back by your sudden inquiry.

“No,” you replied quickly, still shocked you actually asked that, “It’s just… damn… you’re a neat person.” You slid into the seat near the counter, watching him pull out mugs.

He surprised you with a quick and short laugh, “The bar was that low huh?” He slipped a mug of tea towards you, “well, you’re not one to blame. I do seem kinda, just kinda, homeless in public. But yes, excuse you, I do have layers.”

You chuckled.

And that noise repeated several times that evening. It was comfy, that time. So you shall agree to repeat it, again.

⸻

You did. For 4 consecutive weeks.

Your half dead soul showed up at his door again today like habit. 

“Oh look who’s early today? Excited for the last week aren’t ya?” he opened the door, smile smug.

“Spare me satoru. It’s too gloomy for your energy at this hour.” You pushed past him to get inside. Yeah, this was clearly your place now.

He chuckled and rounded in. Books were already on the table, spread out and organised.

You paused. Now this is new.

“…Did you set this up before I even got here?”

He glanced back at you, feigning innocence. “What? Can’t I be productive?”

“That’s illegal,” you muttered, dropping your bag next to the chair you’d claimed weeks ago without realizing it. Same spot. Same angle. Same stupid sense of familiarity.

“So,” he said, sliding into the chair opposite you, chin resting on his palm, “last week.”

“Yeah, yeah, the infections and whatever. Didn’t we finish that yesterday?” You cut in, “Today, I’m planning to start checking everything through, we did do everything there is to do.”

He hummed, eyes flicking briefly to the neatly stacked papers before returning to you. “Wow. Listen to you. Confident. Prepared. Almost scary.”

“Don’t start,” you warned, already opening your laptop. “I’m serious. I want to catch mistakes before the professor does. I refuse to lose marks over formatting or a citation from 2012.”

“Ouch,” he said, clicking his tongue. “She really traumatized you, huh?”

“She graded you once and you’re still alive. I’m the one who got a paragraph circled in red with ‘too vague’ written like a threat.” You rolled your eyes.

He laughed at that, rolling his chair closer to the counter. “Okay, okay. Lead the way, Miss Perfection.”

You shot him a look but didn’t miss the way he’d actually focused, attention fully on you now. No phone. No wandering eyes. Just full on focus.

You started going through the document line by line. Slowly. The kind of careful rereading that made your eyes blur and sometimes lose track of what’s on the outside world.

“This part,” you said, pointing, “the mechanism feels weak. We explain what happens but not enough why.”

He leaned over, shoulder brushing yours as he read. “Hmm. Yeah. We could add the gene expression pathway here.”

You blinked. “You remembered that? Woah, mister forget remembers!”

He smirked. “I don’t forget things that matter.” He looked at you for a moment - which made your chest ache - but then the smirk arrives again. “And also, yes. Im a parfait. Layers, I have those.” He said proudly.

You snorted, ignoring that strange feeling that's crawling up. “Hah, more like an onion.”

He chuckled and started typing, fingers moving fast. You watched him for a second longer than necessary. It was annoying how good he was at this. How seamlessly he matched your pace now (in which he always did). No competition. No ego. Just… balance.

Equilibrium, you thought bitterly.

“You’re quiet,” he said without looking up.

“I’m working.”

“Mmm,” he murmured. “That’s not your working face.”

You scoffed. “You don’t know my working face.”

“Oh, I do,” he said casually. “You bite your lip when you’re stressed. And your leg starts bouncing when you’re tired.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Since when do you—”

He finally looked at you then. Straight at you. Unapologetic. And weirdly honest.

“…Since we started working together.”

Silence.

You forced your gaze back to the screen, heart suddenly beating too loud. “Focus, Gojo.”

“I am,” he replied.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a strange loop. Less talking. More secret glances. The kind where neither of you said what was actually sitting at the tip of your tongues.

When you finally closed your laptop, the sun was out of sight, replaced by the big round moon that had already surfaced.

“…We’re done,” you said in victory. Arms stretching back so far until your bones cracked.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling. “Yeah. We are.”

Your eyes suddenly drifted its way towards the clock. Oh shit. You totally lost track of the time.

You froze for half a second.

9:32 PM.

“…Oh,” you muttered, suddenly very aware of how quiet his house had become. No pages flipping. No keyboard clacking. Just the low hum of the lights and the faint sound of traffic outside.

You dropped your arms, rubbing the back of your neck. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“Time flies when you’re suffering together,” he teased,

You scoffed and started packing up on instinct. Laptop closed. Notes stacked. Pen capped. “I should head back before I pass out on your counter.”

“Wow,” he deadpanned. “And here I was about to offer you my extremely comfortable couch.”

“Hard pass.” You laughed,

He snorted, standing as well. “Suit yourself.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder and turned toward the door, fingers already reaching for the handle when his voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

Your head turned back.

“You coming to that party?” He asked, though his voice had a drip of nervousness.

“Party? Im not a party person.” You shrugged.

“The end of year waltz that Harvard is hosting. Heard everyone’s going.” He replied. “Nah,” you replied easily. “I’ll stay home. Way better than loud music and sweaty strangers.”

He hummed, eyes flicking away for a moment before returning to you.

“I think you’ll be pretty if you went.” 

The words landed wrong.

Or maybe too right.

For a second, your brain completely shut off.

“…What?” You stopped, body facing him completely.

Your heart was now working overtime. You swore the neighbourhood can hear it boxing inside of you.

The wormhole you were barely able to crawl out of has eaten you completely this time. Swallowing you whole. Because no, you’ve never dressed up anywhere. Your closet only had 1 thing - hoodies. Old, grey and dark ones. Nothing flashy. And makeup? It was a foreign thing. Just you and you. Originality, you liked it that way. But him - The campus’s it-boy - Looking at you like that. Yeah, you may not know this yet, but you were just as doomed and he was.

“Meh—never mind,” he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “Scratch that. You can skip it if you want. It’s fine.” A pause. Then, quieter, “I was just hoping you’d show up. Y’know. Surprise everyone. Maybe wear a dress or something.”

You swallowed that lump in your throat.

“Noted.” You say with your lips pressed tight.

His face flashed with something you didn’t quite see before. Regret? Embarrassment maybe? Or was it shyness? God you weren’t sure. It was like this was an open invitation for you to take your time and think about this. Because this was too sudden. From you just crushing on his looks to him calling you for being pretty. It was all new. You were just project partners that became friends. Neighbours that had interests.

But at this moment, your brain somehow can only think of 4 words. I’m falling for you. Is your heart doing a magic trick? Or was it you actually speeding the lengths of this story up? You didn’t know. Hell, you felt like you didn’t know anything at this point. And maybe you actually didn’t.

As you walked back to your house, keys cold in your hand, his words echoed louder than they should have.

I think you’d look pretty.

And for the first time since you’d arrived at Harvard, you found yourself standing in front of your closet later that night—hoodies pushed aside—wondering if there was something more hidden behind them.

Something else.

Something dangerous.

Something that looked a lot like trouble.

⸻

You were overreacting that day weren’t you? Obviously you were, because no one would get flared up just by being called pretty. But bonus point: being called pretty by the campus’s it-boy hits different.

And now you’re just standing here, bass pumping in your veins, already regretting all your shameless and immature thoughts from 2 days ago. You haven’t seen Satoru for 2 days. It’s not that you were avoiding him. No, it’s just… you were thinking. But as it seems right now, you were already regretting it all.

That afternoon—the one that had you spirraling—you managed to find something in your closet. It was in the bottom shelf. Dusted, but not ripped nor worn out. In fact you never actually wore that before. It was a birthday gift. A birthday gift meant for your prom night. A prom you never went to. It was an ivory satin gown with an off-shoulder, halter neckline, and draped sleeves that shimmered under your bedroom light.

Wear it to prom — Love, Mom.

The note was still there, folded neatly like it had been the first time you received the gift.

Funny. You thought, for any special occasions you could’ve saved this for, you chose this event, because of something someone said. 

God, since when had you become so easy to fold? 

Yeah—now the regret was hitting you. Hard. Because again, you were more of a party pooper. You didn’t like the noisy ambiance of parties. It felt like it was too much. And it has, just 30 minutes in and you were already considering going home.

So you were just standing here, stuffed in a corner.

Your eyes drifted across the dance floor, watching familiar faces sway to the music. Laughing. Carefree. Your gaze travelled further to the couches, the bar counter. That’s when you spotted her.

Chelsea. Your seatmate.

With a loud sigh, you decided to battle boredom and come up to her, despite the urge of going home.

“Hey girl, looks like fun over here. May I join?” You waltz over, eyes scanning her face for any signs of rejection.

“Heck yeah—and damn, you’re gorgeous,” Chelsea grinned, bumping your shoulder. “Never knew the infamous Y/N was into waltzes and parties.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “I was about to call it off. But they’re serving mocktails, not alcohol—safer that way. Thought I’d at least see what all the hype was about.”

“Figures,” she laughed. “Sit down, princess. You look like an absolute angel tonight.”

“Don’t start the flattery, you look like one too, nonetheless.” You nodded towards her as you sat down.

“Oh hey, about the project thing, y’all done?” She asked casually.

“Hm? Oh, that one with the disease? Yeah, we’re done. Why? You need an extra hand?”

“Nah,” she replied, eyes flicking past you for a split second. “Just checking.”

You nodded slowly, humming. "How's your process, finished yet?"

"Almost, just checking and stuff. You know this last part takes a while." She groaned.

You chuckled, patting her shoulder. "At least you get a decent partner, gosh look at mines." You sighed loudly.

"You've got to be kidding me." Chelsea deadpanned, "You, specifically you, got paired with THE guy. THE Gojo Satoru. And girl, you're complaining?" She spoke in disbelief.

You shrugged, "Well, he's quite a pain in the ass sometimes for finding study spots,"

"Well... fair." Chelsea nodded.

You hummed, about to change the topic, when suddenly—

“Oh my god! Is that Gojo!?”

Your stomach dropped.

You haven’t seen him in 2 days. Did you look too flashy? You overdid yourself a little too much today didn't you? You came when you shouldn’t have and- Oh my god. 

Is your brain speeding? It shouldn’t be. ‘Cause why in the world would you be nervous? It just doesn’t make sense. As if your body reacts on its own when it senses him near or something. Because just a second later, your eyes trailed right after where Chelsea was pointing to. Him.

Gojo Satoru. Campus’s favourite. Standing right at the entrance. His white hair was a little messy, collar loose, the first button of his black shirt already undone. Sleeves pushed past his elbows, revealing veiny forearms that had been hiding beneath hoodies for far too long. Tall frame relaxed. God he looked illegal in the best way possible.

You ripped your eyes away immediately. Head snapping straight back to Chelsea, as if that would save you from some kind of attack.

“Holy shit-” Chelsea grabbed your shoulders, shaking you excitedly. “He looks even hotter today!”

You groaned, face-palming yourself. “Please don’t say that.”

And as if on cue, Satoru’s azure eyes scanned the crowd in a swift motion and landing straight on you. And oh god, if it wasn’t for the noise, Satoru swore he could’ve just fainted on the spot.

You have been avoiding him for what seems like an eternity. Is it because of something he said? 

Obviously, but not that he’d ever know about it. 

Truth was, he wasn’t any better off than you. God like what? 50 times? At least 50 times where he rehearsed in front of the mirror to say that one line I think you’d look pretty if you went. And when you did show up, his heart ran a fucking marathon. Pulse striking an easy 200.

You looked effortlessly beautiful. Standing there in ivory satin, like something unreal. Like you’d stepped out of a dream he didn’t remember having but suddenly couldn’t wake up from. Your hair fell perfectly around your shoulders, your features glowing under the lights, the dress fitting you so well it felt criminal. 

Trust him when he says he’s far more gone than you were. Simple reason: he actually is.

“Sup dude,” a hand slung over his shoulder. “Eyeing someone for t’night already?”

He reluctantly peeled his eyes away from you, “Tch, you assume things too fast Suguru.”

Suguru hummed, unimpressed. “Do I? ‘Cause you were definitely checking out that doomed crush of yours just now.” His gaze flicked toward you before returning to Satoru. “Just go talk to her, dude. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this shit a hundred times by now.”

Satoru scoffed lightly as they walked toward an empty table, hands slipping into his pockets. “Meh. Don’t wanna drag her into any scandals.”

Suguru snorted. “Since when have you cared about that?”

“Dunno,” Satoru paused, brows furrowing slightly. “Besides, I’m not even sure she’s interested.”

Suguru blinked.

Then laughed.

“Oh my god,” he said, “Are you serious? Aren’t girls basically lining up for you these days?”

Satoru shrugged, eyes drifting back to you. “Not her. She’s… different.”

Suguru winced dramatically. “Wow. That line alone sounds like a whole K-drama episode.”

Suddenly, Suguru stood abruptly, grabbing him by the arm. "But I have been far too tired being your listener victim." He sighed, “Now go on superman, go say your stupid line.” He teased him, pushing Satoru towards you.

He stumbled a few beats, eyes already wandering back to Suguru questioning his decision. With the mouthed signal 'Go ahead' given. He wasn't quite sure where the smug part of his personality went.

Right now, he was just this shy blob of hopeless romantic standing amongst the crowd, eyeing at a girl that everyone seems to have eyes on right now. You.

You noticed him before he even came. And just like before, your breath gets caught. Dead in your throat. 

He's approaching. He's approaching. He's approaching. 

Okok, what do I do. What do I say? Do I say hi? Or hey? Or-

"You came."

Chelsea probably did something embarrassing next to you, because you were quite sure Satoru's eyes drifted towards her with a small frown.

"Just to test the hype I guess." You replied easily, though your heart was beating mess. "Uhm, oh right, let me introduce my friend-"

"Hi. Im Chelsea, easily Y/N's favorite girl on campus." Chelsea cuts in smoothly. Planting a hand in your shoulder. This girl really knows how to socialize. 

"But she's gotta have to live the night without me, I'm hopping to a different table for a quick talk." she winked as she floated away.

Leaving you and Satoru in the most awkward and uncomfortable situation ever.

Great.

Her little intro and smooth escape... and that little situation she left... 

She must've been the wind, of course, of course, how could you forget the wind?

"So uhm, surprised you've made it past 30 minutes." He broke the silence.

You snapped back to reality, "Well, can't be talking too soon, but yeah, surprisingly." You shrugged.

He chuckled, and if you weren't wrong with how you're reading his eyes, he was eyeing you up and down. 

God, you weren’t sure. You were only sure of two things right now: 1. You were blushing badly because he was checking you out, and 2. You needed to go home before you make a complete fool of yourself.

"Damn, you got me doing a double take there," he flirted, seeing how you reacted to him checking you out.

You waved a hand. "Oh please, spare me, theres like what, another hundred craving that more than me?" 

"Not really," he did a quick glance around, "Nah, I wouldn't say a hundred."

You raised a brow. "So like what? A thousand? 'Cause obviously less than a hundred wouldn't mean us studying at random places before." 

He choked on a laugh. “Right. About that—my bad. Didn’t know looks could kill.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes hard. A sigh leaving your mouth.

"You got a watch?" You asked suddenly.

"Need the time?" He was already pulling out his phone. "19:47. Already slotting your leave?" He smirked.

"Maybe, it's getting boring honestly. Don't know what's the hype on parties are all about." You shrugged.

He snorted. "Yeah 'cause this isn't a party, it's a waltz. As in you're supposed to dance."

You shook your head, "Not really my thing,"

"Not mines either. Guess we'll both try?" He raised a hand out at you.

Your mind short-circuited. Dance? Ok, you do dance. A lot actually, but it was more like short routines and trending choreographies online. Not this type of slow dance and waltzing. 

And especially him. The person asking you isn't just any guy, it's Satoru.

Your heart did a painful flip.

"I'm not quite sure about that," you said quietly.

He scanned your face for a brief moment. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but you were never sure about anything today in the first place." His gaze never left yours, hand still up for you to take.

Now when did you two speed up? From rivals to what, friends with blurry boundaries? Excuse yourself, you used to hate him. All the mockery, smug smile, tease. Where did those go? Instead, it was replaced by this unnamed feeling that was haunting you like a ghost. 

You already knew, this wouldn't go well if you were to take his hand.

But what was there to lose? You've already made up your mind of going right? So wouldn't that be the whole point? Dance? Waltz? Another mass spreading rumor might be the consequences, but you handled 2, you can do 1 more.

"Please, dance with me?" Satoru lowered himself a little bit. Cerulean eyes pouring into yours.

Your hands hesitated, itching at your side. Reluctantly, you lift it, and slowly placed into his hand.

He smirked. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you being unsure," he took your hand in his as he lead you slowly onto the dance floor, "but relax, we're all first timers y'know." He winked at you, making your cheeks go impossibly redder.

As if on cue, the music turned into this slow, jazzy, waltz-able music. With a blink, couples of all kind merge themselves into the dance floor, already swaying.

"Shall we?" Satoru look at you, eyes seeking your permission.

You nodded. Stepping onto the space along with his lead.

"And now excuse me," he said before placing a hand on your waist and a hand on your back. "You can toss your hands on my shoulders." He instructed.

You hummed in response as you do as he says.

Compared to you, Satoru was really tall. A giraffe next to an ant. You only realized the embarrassing difference once you're this close to him. Head barely reaching his broad shoulders.

Out of nowhere, he pulled closer, your head now resting on his chest.

"Relax," he murmured. "It's a waltz remember?"

You hummed as response. Trying to hide your tomato cheeks.

But outside the dance area was something both of you didn't know about. His idiot friends.

"Dudeeee, he's actually doing it!" Suguru laughed loudly, eyes looking straight at you and Satoru.

"Hm, took him long enough." Nanami added, sipping his drink.

"He does look like he'll crumble at any moment though." Chuckled Choso.

There was a deep sigh before Suguru spoke again, "I need to add more fuel to this fire. Gentleman, is it time we help our guy a hand?" 

"To do what? Push their heads together to make them kiss?" Choso raised a brow.

"Not necessarily, we could..." Suguru drifted into deep thought as Nanami slowly sigh.

"We could bump her on accident, make her go off balance and then he'll catch her! That's it!" Choso cuts through the silence.

"I don't think I trust Satoru with that much of a possibility." Nanami added quietly. Rubbing his temple.

Back to the dance floor, both of you were still oblivious of the 2 snickering idiots suspiciously moving closer to you, whose definitely not dancing, but hopping, just to find the right moment to do the right thing.

The you from 4 months ago would never believe what's happening. Dancing? With your rival? Which also counts as your enemy? Yeah, a lot have changed way too fast. 

You were deep thought, having to have completely melted against him. He has too, as it seems. But surprisingly, none of you were uncomfortable.

And suddenly-

Bump.

A "couple" bumped towards your side, rolling you out rhythm and tripping on Satoru's feet. Sending you toppling over.

You closed your eyes, a quiet yelp escaping you as you prepared for the impact.

But nope. Life (or some idiots) had different plans for you. Before you knew it, sturdy arms wrapped around you, one on your waist, one handling your back.

It was Satoru.

And suddenly his face was way too close to yours. Both your eyes had widened. His nose inches away from yours. Breathe already fanning your face.

For a moment you two just held it there. Breathe uneven. His eyes flicked towards your lips for a brief moment, hands gripping your waist a fraction tighter.

The moment suddenly ignited into sparks—until you broke it first.

"Uh, uhm. I- I think I should leave." You said abruptly.

"Right, right- sorry about that. I-"

"No, no. You caught from slamming my face to the ground, that's thanks to you." You assured him. Slowly lifting yourself up from his hold.

"Let me at least lead you out. I insist." His eyes softened as he spoke.

You nodded as you headed for the exit.

"You're not heading back as well?" You asked as you called a cab. The cold air outside making your spine shiver.

"Nah, I'm gonna hang with my friends for another while." He shrugged.

You only nodded.

You spun around aimlessly as you waited the arrival of your cab. The awkward silence wrapping you both.

"So, uh, did I do well on the waltz?" He suddenly asked shyly.

"I really shouldn't be the one judging." You laughed softly.

He chuckled. Eyes finding yours.

For a moment, you were waiting for his response but he was just looking. Gazing deep into your eyes.

"You know, I don't I've said this at all tonight, but you look really pretty tonight." He said softly.

Your eyes widened at that. Throat going dry.

"Thanks, I could say the same about you." You smiled shyly.

"See? Told you you'd look pretty." He gave you the last smirk before your cab arrived.

He opened the door for you as he murmured a little 'goodnight'. 

Your heart was beating so fast, you couldn't even describe it anymore. For the whole ride back, the night repeated in your head over and over again. You were just smiling like an idiot as this point. Maybe you can be called brainless even.

How did you two get this far? Honestly, it happened so fast, you didn't get to keep up. You only had a theory for now — a Collision Theory.

a/n: poured my heart and soul into this at 2am, so it's not proofread 😭. But hope yall enjoyyy!!

tag list: @cynosure-gaze @happyyya