Chapter Text
~Prologue~
"Alright. Truth or dare?"
Nothing but candlelight filled the dark room of Suguru Geto's dorm. The second year students of Jujutsu Tech all remained gathered around the floor as if they were summoning every spirit the underworld contained...
But, tonight, the only thing devious around here was Satoru Gojo's usual weekend antics, looking at his classmates with a mischievous glimmer. He always loved a good game.
"Heh, this is easy." The white haired boy leaned back on his hands with a chuckle, looking at is classmate, Emi, over the dark shades of his glasses. "I already know what she's gonna pick."
She was the moon and stars, Emi Hasegawa. Or, at least, she was Satoru's moon and stars. Not in the romantic sense, or that's what he'd tell you. Nahhh, no way. He wasn't into pesky, little weaklings like her. Blegh!
The weak were soooo high maintenance, and having to protect people like her just wasted his time. She just had an interesting look to her, and the two had history—once again, not in the romantic sense. Just, you knowww, history. And, for someone like Satoru, he can't say that for many people in his life.
Emi's mismatched eyes met his with a spark of their own. It's funny, she didn't care that he was one of the strongest, or the honored one, or whatever it was that everyone yapped at him all day long. Hell, she actually seemed to respect him less for it somehow, and ohhhh, it pushed the dusty buttons in Satoru's chest. Man, it really did. And she always flipped her midnight colored hair off her shoulder like that, flashing a smile brighter than the milky clouds as if she knew a secret he didn't.
"Oh yeah? And what am I gonna pick, Satoru?" She mocked him, feeding the flames he loved so much.
She was weak, but somehow, she kept him on his toes. He didn't really know how that worked, and he didn't care. Because she was Emi. She was a second year like him, but barely good enough to even be here. It wasn't even her choice to be here, and if she had it her way, she'd probably be doing something boring like the normies do—like accounting, or whatever. Yikes, can you imagine? It's basically criminal.
But, no he was her mentor, and he has been for the last year. It gave them plenty of time to get to know each other, and if Satoru had to say something about it, he'd say she's boring.
Shoko had lost interest in the truth or dare game—not that she ever really had it in the first place, more focused on lighting a cigarette that had Suguru groaning as he got up to open the window to his dorm room.
A sweaty, stressed Utahime acted as a poor chaperone, sitting in the corner with an impatient tap of her foot. She wouldn't allow the girls to be alone with the boys in a room this late at night. It's not that she didn't trust Gojo and Geto—well, actually it was—and it was more Gojo than Geto that she didn't trust...
Satoru took a heavy drink from his soda can, keeping his competitive eyes on Emi as the two remained sitting across from each other on the floor. The aura of high school was in the air, and Satoru was in no hurry to speed up these precious moments. Even living in the present time began to feel nostalgic, for he dreaded the day their warm summer would finally turn cold.
The more his chest swelled like a balloon, the more he picked his mentee, Emi, apart, trying to slow whatever rise continued in his body. Like....like how he trains her to the bone everyday and she still doesn't have any muscles on her. Yeah. Yeah, that's so crazy, right?
Like, if it weren't for him, she'd be dead already from how many times she's gotten herself into sticky situations with curses. And she doesn't even thank him for that, fyi!
"Well, you're too much of a scaredy cat to pick dare." Satoru egged her on, but he knew that wasn't true.
Because even if Emi was weak—or, weaker than him—she was never scared. Even being in the mouth of that special grade the other night didn't have her begging or crying. And Satoru wouldn't be lying if he said he waited an extra, like, three....ehhh, maybe ten seconds before saving her to see if she would cry.
Hah!—ahem, look, look, it's totally not funny, and he wasn't gonna actually let her die, alright?! He just wanted to scare her a little, you know? See when she tapped out and begged for him...for his help and all.
But, she didn't, and she never does. It had Satoru wondering if she even had a breaking point, and if she did, he really wanted to see it. Does that make him an asshole? Maybe, but so what? You can afford to be an asshole when you're him.
"I'm sorry, were you not here for the Yaga prank call I just did five minutes ago? Utahime, you certainly have a wicked bone in your body for suggesting that one. Who knew." Emi rolled her heterochromatic eyes, glancing over at the second grade sorcerer in the corner.
"Ah, so what?" Satoru waved off. "That's just easy stuff. I mean, Utahime picked it, so obviously it's boring."
"Boring??" The second grade sorcerer gawked, rising from her chair in a heated fury. "Have some respect, Gojo!! I was trying to pick something safe and not dangerous because you-"
"Yeah, like we haven't even gotten to the fun stuff. My stuff." Satoru tuned out Utahime's nagging, turning to his best friend when he plopped down next to him again. "Tell her, Suguru. Right? Righttt?"
Suguru gave Satoru a deadpan look as the white haired menace rested his head atop his shoulder with that typical 'Gojo' grin. He shook his head and puffed a breath of amusement past his nostrils, jerking his shoulder to propel Satoru's head back up.
"Why are you always trying to make Emi explode?" The brown-haired voice of reason spoke in his ear, causing Satoru to chuckle like a child.
Like he said, he always did love game night.
"Mmmm, 'cause it's fun!" He snickered, turning back to his mentee a little more eagerly. "So, what do ya say, Emi. Brave enough to take on my dare, or what? I don't think you are."
The mysterious girl barely contemplated for a second before she swiped Satoru's drink out of his hand, maintaining eye contact as she drank the rest of his soda boldly. See? This is what he's talking about. Right here.
She's so...Emi. She doesn't take his shit. They're equals, even if her strength doesn't compare. Because that's how she sees them, and it doesn't leave room for Satoru to think any other way about it. Suguru's the only other person who ever treated him like that. And Suguru was his best friend because of that.
Satoru let out a breathy laugh as Emi crinkled his empty drink can and lightly tossed it back at his chest, causing him to bite down on his lip as she said...
"Do your worst."
Oh ho, his 'worst.' She couldn't handle his worst. Heh.
The next words came from his mouth without a thought. Maybe it's because a certain conversation he had earlier that day with a certain someone still remained embedded in his head. Maybe it's because the candlelights were hitting Emi's face in all the right places. Maybe it's because that swell in his chest hasn't stopped rising like this for over an entire year, muddling his brain and taking over when he blurted out something he never thought he would...
"Alright. I dare you to kiss me." He said.
Satoru being Satoru, you'd never know he didn't mean to say it as his cocky face remained stagnant on his features. He only blinked a few extra times when he caught Suguru's eyes glowering at him in his peripheral vision. But, he couldn't find it in himself to care, not when he couldn't read Emi's unbothered face.
Part of him wanted her to blush and fluster, but she's never been a ditz—and the other part of him has never been interested in ditzes—or, really, most people—so he's glad for it. His heart practically stalled as her poker face and three seconds of silence felt more like hours. He let out a trapped breath he didn't know had gotten stuck when she broke out into a laugh.
"Uhhh, barf." The girl retorted playfully, shooting Satoru a cheeky smirk. "You can't be serious."
If Satoru had a dime for every time someone reacted like that when he asked them for a kiss—well—he'd be broke as shit because literally no one does that! Have you seen him?
'Oh, Emi. Emi, Emi, Emiii. Why do ya do me like that...' He mused to himself almost longingly, but then again that's probably not a word one uses to describe a friend, right?
"Heh, please. 'Barf,'" Satoru pretended to throw up mockingly. "You're a liar. Everyone else wants to. Really, I'd just be doing you a service, putting you at the front of the line. Isn't that generous?" He winked.
"Don't let him force you into anything, Emi." Suguru butted in, subtly nudging Satoru's shoulder with his own. "It's just a game and he's being stupid-"
"A game?! Hah! Says the guy who almost ripped my head off on the basketball court yesterday after I scored a three pointer!" Satoru cackled a little too loud, lugging a heavy arm around his best friend. "C'mon, Sugu-buddy, what happened to that all-American competitive spirit of yours, huh?"
The two exchanged an unreadable look that made the air thick with a tension Emi didn't understand before Satoru was the one to break it first, ignoring whatever silent words his best friend was trying to scold him with as he turned back to the girls.
"Well? Gonna back out? Or what?" He asked.
"So desperate." Emi huffed in light exasperation, stalling in a way that had Satoru curious. "If you wanna date me, you hoe, all you have to do is say so."
"Date,' she says. How innocent. How adorable are you that you think kissing is the gateway to marriage." He wiped his eyes with a condescending sigh of satisfaction. "I'm sorry—should I propose before I hold the door open for you, too? Or-"
His words were cut off as his collar was suddenly gripped and he was pushed forward into the middle of the little makeshift circle the three of them had made on the floor. He stumbled a bit on his hands until he was face to face with Emi. She smelled like warm lavender, and suddenly he wished he didn't need to wear his glasses to make the details of the world quiet down, for seeing her up close with a naked eye seemed so much more desirable.
Utahime gasped and began to protest in the background, but it was just white noise to Satoru—even more than usual as he looked down at Emi. His mentee, the weak second year who was so utterly boring.
"Don't lie. You're not enough of a gentleman to hold a door open." Her voice simmered low and sure, acting as if she was the honored one and he was just....just....
Human.
He hummed musingly, flashing a toothy grin as the tips of their noses brushed together. "Heh. Always did see right through me, Em-i." He enunciated her name the way he always did, feeling his mouth starting to wet as her lips came closer. "Now go on. Give it your best shot—if you think you can handle it."
He was wanted by everyone, but suddenly his six eyes narrowed down into this one single moment as she closed the distance, pulling him in by his collar and pressing their lips together surely. It wasn't Satoru's first kiss, but his lips stalled anyways, surprised she actually did it.
He was expecting a quick peck because there wasn't any reason to give anything else. But when her lips lingered against his own, Satoru's eyes barely creaked open, looking at her through the concealment of his glasses because he was curious.
Her eyes were still closed and their distance remained the same. Her dewy breath puffed from her nostrils and tickled his own. It fogged up his glasses—and, god, her mouth was so fucking soft. She was human, but for a second, he didn't actually believe it.
Without thinking, he slid a hand to the back of her neck and kissed her again, more firm than she'd done to him. More intimate and less 'Gojo.' And once again, she reciprocated, and Satoru's veins were going to burst. Because right now, he was sixteen—just sixteen years old and in high school like one of those normies he finds so annoying.
He was greedy, and selfish, and he took more as his best friend glared daggers into the back of his head, with Satoru nudging Emi's top lip with his own.
He mentored her through the kiss just like he did with everything else, parting his mouth against her own and smirking a bit when she followed his lead. Then he anchored his hand more securely on the back of her neck and kissed her for a third time, less about the dare now and more about figuring out her taste, gliding his tongue out of his mouth until it brushed the roof of her own, swallowing her soft gasp of surprise before anyone else could hear it.
They'd shared chopsticks, and straws, and other things, but Satoru hadn't ever tasted her like this. Hints of lemon and lime from the soda they shared danced inside his mouth. God, her tongue was so hot as it circled his own in a way that showed her inexperience.
But, hey, she wasn't a chicken, trying to keep up with Satoru like she always does, and he encouraged her for it. Yeah, he encouraged her alright, gliding his thumb along the nape of her neck and accidentally letting a human breath of his own puff into her mouth, going in for another kiss because he wouldn't be able to think straight if he didn't.
Just when his empty hands were itching for more, the searing soft warmth on his mouth vanished, leaving his lips parted and lost as cold air replaced them. His lungs exhaled the air that he stole from her own, feeling a velvety sweetness that didn't belong to him leave his body when it happened.
His eyes opened and suddenly he was back in Suguru's dorm, only settling back into his place next to his best friend when Emi's hand lightly pushed him there.
The air held counteracting vibes between the dark silence of his best friend, and the bedroom eyes of Emi, pulling Satoru in two different directions as he tried to gather himself.
"Well?" Emi mocked him, wiping her lips and giggling as Utahime fainted to the floor.
But, Satoru didn't wipe his lips. Instead, he licked them, gliding his tongue along the bottom seam with vacant, luminescent eyes. He felt the gaze of Suguru searing into him, and the growing pit in his stomach knew what he'd done, but didn't want to admit why he'd done it.
What could he say? He's always been that guy, you know. More interested in beating everyone at their own game than being nice. More interested in satisfying his own ego at the expense of others. But, right now, his flawed selfishness couldn't find the empathy to care.
His brain was muddled, and it was only then that his immaturity shone through. Yes, it was Satoru who was everyone's dream. But, only until they finally woke up.
Because once they woke up and reality knocked them off that hill of isolation Satoru sat on above everyone else, it was always Suguru who was better at this stuff. Because Suguru was more approachable. Suguru was less intimidating and more attainable. Suguru was his equal, but almost better. Because he had substance and knows what it's like to experience the world. He didn't grow up on this untouchable, lonely pedestal like Satoru did.
But, not right now. Because Emi kissed him and she didn't give a fuck. Satoru's eyes told him that she already moved on. He was just a little piece of nothing to her, and it wasn't in a bad way. Nah, for some reason it actually felt good...
It...it felt....good.
And he couldn't say any of that. Because he was Satoru Gojo and she was Emi. Just Emi. His weak, little mentee who was sooo boring. He wasn't good at this stuff, and he didn't really care to be. He didn't need to be. Not when he's so good at everything else. Right?
His clouded eyes blinked back to the present time, thankful his dark shades concealed whatever look he was unintentionally sporting. His gaze fluttered back at Emi to see she was looking at him expectantly, causing him to clear his throat and teasingly stroke his chin.
"Hmph. On a scale of Utahime to ten, I'd give it, like, a three." He downplayed the moment, trying to smooth over the crack that threatened to break his voice.
He studied Emi closely to see what her reaction would be to his insult. He was a button pusher by trade, but knew her well enough to know she wouldn't pull an Utahime and buzz at him like a hornet.
But, is it bad that part of him kind of wanted that? Maybe he was just looking for something. Any type of reaction to the kiss. Something that would fluff up Satoru's ego into the highest heavens, because oh, he really needed that.
Not that her opinion mattered anyways. She's Emi, remember? Just Emi.
Her reaction came soon enough and it intrigued Satoru from how quick it was, watching Emi wave him off without a care. "Coming from the man who I caught tonguing a thirty year old last week behind the school gym. I don't think your standards are reliable." She mused, slowly rising up to standing.
Suguru had gone quiet after the encounter, and still, Satoru selfishly ignored what he knew, throwing his head back when Emi lightly tugged his hair on her way to the bathroom. He looked at her upside down, eyeing the way her school stockings hugged the meat of her upper thighs. Ah, sneaky girl. Fighting the dead everyday certainly left a little leniency for uniform protocol, he supposed. If her skirt went any higher, Satoru was positive he might see something else.
"Just say you're jealous and confess to me, Em-i." He enunciated the rhyme of her name one last time, flashing his white teeth with a mischievous grin as she tossed Suguru's sleeping pillow at his face.
Emi snorted at Shoko who nodded as she puffed her cigarette smoke out of Suguru's cracked window. "Sorry-not-sorry, Satoru. But, unlike 'everyone else,' as you say, you're not my type." The mysterious girl said, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door before he could say another word.
Emi didn't allow herself to breathe until she heard Satoru and Suguru continuing the game, huffing heavily past her lips before grazing them with her fingers.
Satoru Gojo was her first kiss.
And if she had the ability to see into the future and know everything that would happen because of it, Emi would have taken it back in an instant.
*
Next Chapter Title: The Year 2008.