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girlkisser13 · 2 months ago

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jjk characters college au headcanons

characters: choso kamo, hiromi higuruma, kento nanami, mei mei, ryomen sukuna, satoru gojo, shoko ieiri, suguru geto, takuma ino, toji fushiguro, utahime iori, yuki tsukumo, and yu haibara

CHOSO KAMO

major: psychology

• choso is that mysterious upperclassman people whisper about but don’t really know. he’s always seen alone or with a very small circle, never making unnecessary conversation.

• some people are intimidated by his serious expression, but in reality, he’s just deep in thought most of the time. those who do get to know him realize he’s incredibly kind and protective.

• he’s the kind of student who takes his studies seriously, not because he cares about grades but because he values knowledge. he has an old-school approach to studying— handwritten notes, library research, and a preference for quiet over digital distractions.

• he has a small, quiet off-campus apartment that feels more like a sanctuary than a student’s place. it’s tidy, minimalist, and filled with sentimental objects, like old books, photos, or little things that remind him of his brothers.

• his fridge is always stocked with homemade meals, and he prefers cooking over eating out.

• he spends a lot of time in quiet places— bookstores, parks, or the campus greenhouse. he enjoys activities that keep him grounded, like painting, journaling, or practicing meditation.

• he also has a strong interest in martial arts and trains regularly, though he doesn’t brag about it.

• he’s not one for parties or big social gatherings, but if his closest friends ask, he’ll go— mostly to keep an eye on them.

• he’s the guy who stands off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing but ready to step in if needed. he doesn’t make small talk, but when he speaks, it’s always something insightful or meaningful.

• professors respect him because he’s a serious student, though they wish he participated more. he listens intently in class but rarely raises his hand.

• when he does speak, his answers are so well-thought-out that the entire class goes silent. some professors think he’s intimidating; others recognize that he’s just reserved.

• he has a deep, soothing voice that makes people listen when he speaks.

HIROMI HIGURUMA

major: political science/pre-law

• hiromi is well-respected but not overly social. he’s the guy people go to for advice— whether it’s about legal studies or just life in general.

• some students fear him because of his serious demeanor, but once you actually talk to him, he’s incredibly fair and thoughtful. he’s got that "tough but kind" vibe that makes people trust him immediately.

• he’s always at the top of his class, but not because he wants recognition— he just genuinely believes in what he’s studying. he’s the guy who finishes exams early but sits there, double-checking his answers while everyone else struggles.

• he has a neat, quiet off-campus apartment that looks surprisingly cozy. his space is filled with law books, neatly organized files, and just enough personal touches— probably a few framed photos, a well-stocked liquor cabinet, and an expensive coffee maker.

• his place is never messy, but you can tell when he’s stressed because legal briefs start piling up on his desk

• when he’s not buried in legal cases, he enjoys classical music, fine whiskey, and quiet nights reading. he has a lowkey love for noir films and classic literature.

• he’s the type to stay up late working on a case brief but will still wake up at 6 am sharp the next morning.

• he has a habit of going to bars alone just to sit in a corner, sip his drink, and think about life. if he’s really stressed, he’ll take a long drive at night while listening to jazz or old rock.

• he’s not a party guy. you won’t find him at wild events, but if he does go, he’s the one quietly observing, sipping his drink, and making sharp but insightful comments about people’s behavior.

• he prefers small, intimate gatherings where discussions actually mean something. that said, if someone drags him to a party, he’ll tolerate it— but don’t expect him to dance or do anything ridiculous.

• professors adore him because he’s brilliant, respectful, and actually engages in meaningful discussions. he’s the student they trust to handle debates maturely and lead group discussions without turning them into chaos.

KENTO NANAMI

major: finance

• nanami is respected, not feared or idolized. everyone knows he’s insanely competent, but he doesn’t go out of his way to stand out.

• he’s the guy students ask for help with coursework, but he will not let you copy his work— he believes in earning your grades. professors trust him to lead group projects, and he’s the sole reason some people pass certain classes.

• he definitely tutors struggling students, but only if they’re serious about learning.

• he’s the type of student who has his entire academic career planned out to the letter. he takes meticulous notes, sits in the same spot every class, and actually reads the syllabus.

• his gpa is flawless, but it’s not because he enjoys studying— it’s just efficient to do well.

• he lives off-campus in a clean, well-organized apartment with modern furniture and precisely one personal touch— probably a nice coffee setup or a bookshelf stacked with actually good literature.

• his place is never messy, and he has a strict routine for cleaning. his fridge is full of actual food (no instant ramen here), and he cooks proper meals like a fully functional adult.

• nanami unwinds with quiet hobbies— reading or listening to jazz while drinking real coffee (not the burnt cafeteria sludge).

• he secretly enjoys baking but won’t admit it because it’s "not practical."

• he goes to the gym, but not for fun— just because it’s necessary. he also enjoys quality entertainment— classic films, well-written novels, and actual music, not the overplayed stuff on the radio.

• he’s not anti-social, but he does have a low tolerance for nonsense. he has a small, close-knit group of friends he actually trusts.

• he goes to parties maybe twice a year, and when he does, he immediately regrets it. he’s the guy standing in the corner with a drink, watching chaos unfold, and making scathing remarks under his breath.

• he refuses to drink cheap beer—if he’s drinking, it’s going to be good alcohol.

• professors adore him. he’s the student they wish all their other students were like. he submits assignments early, leads class discussions, and actually cares about learning.

• he’s probably the type to debate professors respectfully when he disagrees with something. if a professor is incompetent, though? he’ll silently judge them for eternity.

MEI MEI

major: business administration

• mei mei is famous on campus. she’s known for being gorgeous, brilliant, and ruthless when it comes to money.

• she never does anything for free— need tutoring? pay up. want a favor? what’s in it for her?

• she’s the type of student who doesn’t waste time with unnecessary coursework. she excels in every class but never overworks herself— she does the bare minimum required to get top grades and makes it look effortless.

• she’s the student who somehow always has the right answers but rarely ever looks like she’s paying attention.

• mei mei lives off-campus in a luxurious apartment that looks straight out of an interior design magazine. everything is sleek, modern, and expensive. she has zero clutter, an actual wine collection (despite still being in college), and a ridiculously comfortable bed.

• she’s never in a rush— her mornings are smooth and aesthetic, and she somehow always arrives places looking flawless.

• her entire mindset is "i have all the time in the world."

• she definitely has side hustles— investing in stocks, flipping designer items for profit, or even casually running a secret gambling ring on campus.

• she enjoys expensive hobbies like high-stakes poker, fine dining, and traveling for no reason. she also loves making money in the easiest way possible— if she can get paid for doing nothing, she will.

• mei mei is always invited to parties, but she only shows up if it benefits her. if she’s at an event, she’s chilling in vip, drinking top-shelf liquor, and watching other people make a mess of themselves.

• she doesn’t actively seek out friends, but people gravitate toward her. she prefers intelligent company— if you bore her, she’ll immediately lose interest.

• professors respect her, but she’s also deeply frustrating because she rarely puts in visible effort. she’s the student who negotiates grades, convinces professors to curve exams in her favor, and somehow always gets extensions without anyone questioning it.

• she never does emotional labor for free— if you’re venting to her, you owe her something later.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

major: history

• sukuna is infamous. everyone knows of him, but few actually know him. some fear him, some admire him, and some want him (even though they know it’s a bad idea).

• he’s the type of guy who walks into a room, and the entire atmosphere shifts. professors loathe him because he’s too smart for his own good, but they can’t technically fail him because he’s always right.

• he’s annoyingly brilliant— aces every class without trying, writes ruthless essays, and argues with professors just to prove them wrong. he rarely takes notes, yet he remembers everything, and if he ever does write something down, it’s probably just to mock the lecture.

• he could charm anyone if he tried, but he enjoys being feared instead.

• he has a sleek, expensive off-campus apartment that looks straight out of a luxury magazine— dark aesthetic, minimalist furniture, and not a single speck of dust. everything in his space is either expensive, dangerous, or both.

• his kitchen? barely used. his bedroom? looks like a villain’s lair. his couch? somehow the most comfortable thing you’ll ever sit on.

• he has expensive hobbies— high-stakes poker, fine whiskey tasting, maybe even fencing just to flex. he’s into classic literature but will never admit it.

• if he’s not reading, he’s either at the gym casually lifting twice his body weight or going on reckless, borderline illegal night drives.

• sukuna does not do small talk. if you’re not interesting, you don��t exist to him. he doesn’t have “friends” in the traditional sense— more like acquaintances he tolerates or people who amuse him.

• if he does like you, though, you’re protected— not because he’s sentimental, but because you’re his, and he doesn’t share.

• he never loses bets. if he does lose, he definitely cheated.

• every professor hates how effortlessly brilliant he is. he corrects them in lectures, ignores deadlines but still submits flawless work, and only participates in discussions to intellectually humiliate someone.

• some fear his presence in their class because they know he’ll challenge them.

• he always smells expensive— think deep, musky cologne with hints of spice.

SATORU GOJO

major: theoretical physics

• gojo is legendary. everyone knows him, whether because of his ridiculous antics, insane intelligence, or sheer charisma.

• he’s ridiculously smart but never takes class seriously. he’s the student who barely shows up, flirts with professors for fun, and still somehow gets top grades. his essays are either brilliant or completely off-topic because he got bored and started rambling.

• if he’s losing an argument, he’ll just switch to a completely different topic to confuse everyone.

• he has a high-end off-campus apartment because there’s no way he’s dealing with dorm life.

• his place is way too nice for a college student— minimalist but stylish, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a fully stocked fridge (except he mostly orders takeout). he has a collection of expensive sunglasses, and his bed is obnoxiously big for no reason.

• he has an obscene amount of money for a college student, but no one knows why or how.

• he spends his free time causing chaos— pulling pranks, sweet-talking his way out of trouble, and randomly deciding to start new hobbies just to master them effortlessly.

• he’s really into arcade games, expensive desserts, and photography (but he only takes dramatic, artsy pictures of himself and his friends). he’s also weirdly into conspiracy theories— not because he believes them, but because he finds them entertaining.

• he will absolutely buy expensive desserts for his friends "just because."

• gojo is everywhere. he’s at every party, every event, and somehow in every social circle. he’s the type to befriend both the most popular people on campus and the quietest nerd in the library.

• at parties, he’s either dancing on a table, starting a drinking contest, or dramatically announcing his presence like a celebrity. he never gets blackout drunk— he’s always the one causing the chaos, not suffering from it.

• he never waits in lines— he just charms his way to the front.

• professors despise how naturally gifted he is because he never takes anything seriously. he’s the type to argue with them for fun, correct their mistakes, or write an entire essay about how their syllabus is boring. some admire his intellect, while others just want him to shut up for five minutes.

SHOKO IEIRI

major: biology/pre-med

• shoko is the chill but scary smart girl. she’s laid-back, sarcastic, and gives off an effortlessly cool vibe. people know of her but don’t approach unless necessary because she looks perpetually exhausted.

• she’s the go-to person for medical advice— half the student body has probably asked her for help with random injuries or hangovers.

• she’s terrifyingly good at diagnosing people just by looking at them.

• she has a small off-campus apartment that’s mostly clean but has a permanent "organized chaos" vibe—half-empty coffee cups, scattered medical textbooks, and a pile of scrubs that she swears she’s going to fold.

• she has a cat that just showed up at her apartment one day, and now they’re roommates.

• she barely spends time at home since she’s always at the library, the lab, or sleeping in random places on campus.

• if she does have time off, she’s either smoking outside a coffee shop, watching true crime documentaries, or napping.

• she has a morbid sense of humor and enjoys dissecting medical cases like it’s light reading. she also has a soft spot for stray animals and will 100% stop to pet any cat she sees.

• if you text her with a medical question at 3 am, she will answer it correctly but also judge you.

• she barely goes to parties, but when she does, she’s the one holding a drink in one hand and tending to someone’s drunken injury with the other.

• she’s friends with gojo and geto by default but pretends to be exhausted by their antics (even though she secretly enjoys them). she’s the friend who texts "bring water" at 2 am and then disappears for a week.

• she gives the best advice but in the most unserious way possible.

• professors love her intelligence but wish she’d apply herself more. she’s the student who disappears for weeks, then shows up and gets the highest score on the exam.

• she has a reputation for being blunt— if a professor says something dumb, she will call them out, but only if she’s in the mood.

SUGURU GETO

major: theology

• geto is an enigmatic intellectual— the type of person who speaks once in class and leaves everyone rethinking their entire worldview. he’s well-respected but keeps his social circle small.

• some students are lowkey intimidated by him, while others admire his wisdom and composure. he has a quiet but undeniable presence wherever he goes.

• he writes insanely well and can turn in a last-minute paper that sounds like a published thesis.

• he has a minimalist off-campus apartment that’s almost too clean, with shelves full of philosophy books and a neatly arranged tea set. He keeps his space serene, like a personal sanctuary.

• everything is in its place, but there’s a stillness to his apartment that makes people feel like they shouldn’t disturb it.

• he enjoys reading, meditation, and really long walks where he just thinks. he’s deeply interested in different cultures, philosophies, and spiritual practices, and he will have a long discussion with anyone willing to engage.

• he prefers tea over coffee but will graciously accept a high-quality espresso.

• he also enjoys traditional tea ceremonies, calligraphy, and subtly flexing his knowledge of obscure topics.

• he’s not a party person, but he’ll go if the right people invite him. he prefers deep conversations over mindless socializing, so if he’s at an event, he’s in a quiet corner having a profound discussion while sipping tea or whiskey.

• he has a habit of standing on balconies and looking unnecessarily dramatic while lost in thought.

• professors admire his intellect but sometimes feel like he’s too insightful. he’s the student who challenges the class material in a way that makes everyone feel deeply uncomfortable.

• some professors genuinely enjoy his perspective, while others don’t know how to handle his quiet, piercing observations.

• he gives the best advice, but only if he actually thinks you need it.

• he’s a silent but deadly presence in debates— he’ll let others argue, then quietly dismantle their entire point with a single sentence

TAKUMA INO

major: communications

• ino is the underdog everyone loves. he’s friendly, loud, and always trying his best— sometimes too hard. he’s the type of guy who gets involved in everything— sports, clubs, random student events— but never actually commits long-term.

• people like him because he’s genuinely a good guy and is always down to help out (even if he has no idea what he’s doing).

• he’s the guy who tries really hard in class but isn’t necessarily top-tier academically. he takes decent notes, studies at the last minute, and somehow manages to scrape by.

• he’s always determined to do better but gets easily distracted by literally anything more interesting than his textbooks.

• he has a notebook full of terrible pickup lines.

• he definitely shares an on-campus apartment with at least one roommate, and their place is chaotic but functional. there’s always a broken chair, a fridge full of leftover takeout, and a gaming console permanently hooked up to the tv.

• his room? messy but livable— random clothes everywhere, half-drunk energy drinks on his desk, but somehow he knows where everything is.

• he’s obsessed with the gym and probably does some kind of martial arts on the side. if he’s not training, he’s either gaming, watching action movies, or failing miserably at cooking.

• he tries to meal prep but always ends up just eating ramen instead. he also gets way too invested in fantasy football or any kind of competitive game.

• he genuinely believes that protein shakes and energy drinks count as "a real meal."

• ino is the guy you call when you need a last-minute wingman. he’s at every party, every game night, and somehow gets along with everyone.

• he loves being around people, even if they tease him for being a bit of a himbo. he’s the type to hype up his friends, carry drunk people home, and absolutely lose his mind over karaoke.

• he gets way too competitive over dumb things, like rock-paper-scissors.

• professors like him because he participates and actually tries, even if he’s not the best student. he’s the guy who raises his hand to answer a question but gets it slightly wrong— but everyone appreciates the effort.

• some professors pity him because he clearly stresses over exams but never fully prepares.

• if he loses a bet, he fully commits to whatever embarrassing thing he has to do.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

major: business

• toji is that guy— half the school doesn’t believe he’s actually a student, and the other half wants to be him or be with him. he’s the shady upperclassman people whisper about, the guy who never shows up to class but somehow gets credit.

• professors hate him, but there’s nothing they can do because he technically meets the minimum requirements. some suspect he makes money through illegal means— which… they’re not wrong.

• he never studies, barely shows up to class, and still somehow passes— either through luck, bribery, or ridiculous test-taking skills.

• toji refuses to deal with dorm life. he either rents a cheap apartment or crashes with someone when he’s between places. his living space is minimalist by necessity— a mattress on the floor, a mini fridge stocked with beer and takeout, and one chair that’s definitely stolen from campus.

• he doesn’t need a fancy place— he spends most of his time anywhere but home.

• toji always has a hustle— gambling, underground fights, fixing things (for a price), or finding things people lost (also for a price).

• he has a gambling addiction but refuses to admit it.

• if he’s not working the system, he’s at the gym, betting on something shady, or sleeping (because this man is chronically exhausted from his questionable lifestyle).

• he doesn’t have "friends"— he has connections. people know him, people owe him, and people fear him. if he does let someone close, it’s because they’re useful or entertaining.

• he doesn’t go to parties— he runs them. if he does show up, it’s purely to make money, cause trouble, or steal someone’s date.

• professors hate him. he’s smart enough to pass but lazy enough to frustrate every professor who knows he could do better. he never shows up to office hours, barely participates, and has probably gotten into multiple arguments with faculty members.

• the only reason they haven’t kicked him out is because they can’t prove he’s doing anything wrong.

UTAHIME IORI

major: education

• utahime is the reliable upperclassman— the kind of person professors trust and underclassmen go to for advice. she’s well-liked but also has a zero tolerance policy for nonsense.

• she’s the one who tries to keep things orderly in chaotic situations (like when gojo inevitably does something dumb), but it doesn’t always work.

• she’s a hardworking and responsible student who actually studies ahead of time (unlike some of her chaotic friends). she takes meticulous notes, color-codes everything, and is probably the unofficial mom of every group project she’s in.

• she has perfect handwriting, and people always ask to borrow her notes.

• she has a cozy off-campus apartment with a warm aesthetic— think soft lighting, scented candles, and way too many blankets. her place is always tidy, and she’s the type to invite friends over for tea rather than go out to loud parties.

• she has a tea collection that could rival an actual café’s inventory.

• she definitely has a cute little balcony garden where she takes care of plants like they’re her children.

• she loves music and probably plays an instrument (piano or violin, most likely). in her free time, she enjoys reading, visiting cafés, and going to quiet nature spots to relax.

• she’s the type to stress-bake, meaning her friends always have access to homemade treats.

• she also stress-cleans when she’s overwhelmed— if you walk into her apartment and it smells like lemon-scented cleaner, she’s definitely frustrated.

• she’s not a party girl but will attend events only if she trusts the people there. if she does go to a party, she’s the responsible one making sure no one does anything too stupid.

• she’s the friend who remembers everyone’s birthdays and plans thoughtful surprises.

• professors love her because she’s responsible, respectful, and takes her studies seriously. she’s the kind of student who asks insightful questions and actually cares about what she’s learning. if a professor is unfair, though, she will call them out (politely but firmly).

YUKI TSUKUMO

major: anthropology

• yuki is that upperclassman— legendary, unpredictable, and impossible to pin down. she’s known for showing up to class once every two weeks but still acing everything.

• if there’s a student protest, she’s leading it. some people worship her, others think she’s too much, but everyone knows her name.

• she’s banned from certain campus events for stirring up too much chaos.

• she’s insanely smart but does not follow traditional academic rules. she’s the type to write a brilliant essay at the last second while sipping a drink at a bar.

• she has a loft-style off-campus apartment that looks like it belongs to an eccentric genius— random books scattered everywhere, half-finished projects lying around, and somehow, it all works.

• her fridge is mostly empty except for beer, instant ramen, and one healthy thing she forgot about weeks ago.

• she’s always traveling, hiking, or getting involved in some wild adventure. she’s the type to randomly disappear for a weekend trip without telling anyone.

• she loves motorcycles and probably works on one in her free time. if she’s not outside, she’s either deep-diving into conspiracy theories or passionately debating something over drinks.

• she will offer people rides on her motorcycle just to freak them out.

• yuki has zero social anxiety and can talk to anyone. she’s the type to crash a random group’s table at a café and somehow leave with three new friends.

• she’s always at the center of fun, whether it’s an underground party, a debate club event, or a spontaneous road trip. if you hang out with her, expect chaos.

• she always has the best stories, like "that one time i accidentally joined a secret rave in another country."

• most professors are deeply frustrated by her because she refuses to conform to their academic expectations. others recognize her genius and just let her do whatever she wants.

• she’s the student who writes an entire research paper challenging the class material and somehow gets an a.

• she’s impossible to beat in a debate— she thrives on proving people wrong.

• if she calls you at 2 am, it’s either for a life-changing conversation or because she’s about to drag you into something ridiculous.

YU HAIBARA

major: kinesiology

• haibara is the social butterfly of campus. he’s friends with everyone—from professors to the random guy who sits in the back of the lecture hall.

• he’s the type to remember baristas’ names, help people move their stuff, and always have an extra pen for classmates. people love him because he radiates warmth and positivity.

• he’s the kind of student who genuinely enjoys learning and makes class fun for everyone. he’s not a straight-a student, but he tries his best and makes up for it with enthusiasm.

• he’s the guy who shows up to class with a coffee, a big smile, and zero notes, yet still somehow manages to pass.

• he always has gum, snacks, or a spare charger on him.

• he shares a lively on-campus apartment with at least one roommate— his place always has something going on, whether it’s a game night, random people stopping by, or just music playing in the background.

• his room is messy in a controlled chaos way— laundry in a pile, books scattered, but he swears he knows where everything is.

• he’s super active and probably part of multiple clubs— sports teams, volunteer organizations, or even student government (not because he’s super political but because he likes people).

• he has zero sense of direction but refuses to admit it, so he always gets lost on campus.

• he’s the type to randomly drag his friends on outdoor adventures, like hiking or spontaneous road trips. he also definitely watches dumb reality tv and gets way too emotionally invested.

• haibara is the life of the party— he’ll drag you onto the dance floor, challenge someone to a friendly drinking game, and somehow make friends with everyone by the end of the night.

• he’s the guy who hypes you up at karaoke and makes sure no one feels left out. he sings horribly but will still belt out songs with full confidence.

• if you text him "i’m sad," he will show up at your door with snacks and bad jokes.

• professors love him because he’s genuinely engaged in class. even if he’s not the best student, he makes discussions fun and actually cares about learning.

• he’s the one who gets participation points just for making the class laugh. some professors wish he took things a little more seriously, but they can’t dislike him.

• he gives the best pep talks and hypes up his friends constantly.

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bbmsxlene · 1 year ago

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in which: y/n, a common and unpopular girl falls in love with Suguru Geto, the most popular guy on campus. She always knew he was out of reach, so why does she keep trying? And why does it hurt so much?

GROUPS :1. hot moms club. 2. alvin and the chipmunks 3. extras

“EMO“

“QUEEN ELIZABETH ”

“CHALLENGED”

“TATTOOS: 2 BITCHES: 0”

“BYE GF”

“SWEET”

“BIRTHDAY”

“REJECTION”

“UWU”

“REALLY?”

“FUNCTIONAL, NOT UNIQUE”

“JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY !”

“LUCAS”

“SO TENSE”

“THE START OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL”

“I LOVE YOU”

“WHAT ARE WE?”

“CASUAL?”

A/N : do not expect me to update daily because i can’t PHYSICALLY do it i’m so sorry </3

(20/50) TAGLIST : @conan-hearts-u @mixzimtwo @shotovhs @polarbvnny @h3r-litt1e-w0rld @nahoye @satoryaa @bladesoap @lylovw @legbouk @zoaqttz @reiluvr @raechu11 @arysbruv @rykuunas @tojirin @ich1koko @iamhasuya @r0ckst4rjk @rixo-19 @satanloveseveryone @luvlybeom

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lixmooon · 1 year ago

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10000/10 EPISODE 🛐

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luvvictoria · 4 months ago

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# A GATE TO HELL ! GETO SUGURU X READER/ GOJO SATORU X READER, SERIES MATERIALIST

introduction | material list | series materialist

#WARNING : unstable mental health, discussions or metaphors related to depression, anxiety, or feelings of hopelessness. internal struggle, references to isolation or being consumed by dark thoughts , possible imagery or mentions of self-harm or self-destructive behaviors, metaphorical language that could evoke feelings of dread or loss of control, themes related to existential despair or questioning the purpose of life, mentions of emotional pain, betrayal, or the aftermath of a broken relationship, drug and alchool abuse, sex scenes, mature content , verbal abuse, manipulation.

#AUTHORS NOTE : Hey there 🫶🏽 This story is heavily inspired by the song "E O Poartă C��tre Iad" ( a gate to hell ) by Oscar. The haunting metaphors and raw emotions in the lyrics felt like the perfect backdrop for a Jujutsu Kaisen story. Just like the song, this fanfic dives into themes of inner turmoil, despair, and finding strength in the darkness :)) I hope you enjoy this blend of music and anime inspiration! Let me know your thoughts in the comments or feel free to share your interpretations.

— chapters

- The Price of Power

- Through Fire and Void

- Whispers of the Abyss

- A Dance with Despair

- The Weight of Choices

- Shattered Salvation

- Blood-Stained Bonds

- A gate to hell

#THEMES EXPLORED BY THE STORY : Existential Pain, the story likely reflects the universal human struggle with meaninglessness and overwhelming emotions. Touching words on isolation, regret, or longing for relief. Relationships as Catalysts, the story involves references to love, friendship, the "gate to hell" symbolize heartbreak, betrayal, and toxic dynamics. Emotional connections often magnify feelings of despair when they fall apart, leaving one questioning their worth or direction. Societal Pressure and Alienation, the story may critique societal expectations, exploring how they push individuals into states of mental or emotional exhaustion. Struggle with Self-Identity, the story could be also addressing feelings of self-doubt, inadequacy, or disconnection from his true self. The "gate" might represent moments when one feels forced to confront uncomfortable truths about who they are.

#ALSO : Right now, my family is going through a difficult time — my dad’s company is shutting down in six months. If you’ve enjoyed my stories or want to help, your support on Ko-fi would mean the world to us. Every tip or commission helps cover essentials like bills and groceries during this uncertain time. Thank you for your kindness and for being part of my journey! 💕

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bornfreakdraws · 8 months ago

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Nanami voted most kissable kouhai at the smooch court

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a-slut-for-smut · 2 years ago

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#her energy....it FEEDS me #mei mei #jjk mei mei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk 0 movie #jjk 0 #jjk s2 #jjk season 2 #basically nanamis thoughts hehe #nanamei #nanami x mei mei

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gingerteawrites · 4 months ago

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BY THE HEARTH: SHATTER

A/N: For some reason this chapter felt SO DIFFICULT to write, whew. But here we finally are. Thank you all so much for your comments on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one as well! Previous part here.

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~5.3K words

Banner by: @cafekitsune

ACT X

The past couple of weeks since the king had returned had been… Well… interesting. The whole castle was on edge. The usual excited chatter between maids as they completed their duties had been reduced to rushed whispers. Guards on duty did not even dare to exchange pleasantries.

The king was mad.

No one had ever seen him in such a state of disarray. His hair was still pristinely styled and his steps measured to perfection. But the energy had noticeably shifted. He had no polite smile to spare to anyone, and even less pleasantries for the aristocrats he had the duty of meeting with. His mask of passivity was replaced by one of annoyance. An ever-present twitch in his brow.

While none of the servants had ever been subject to the king’s ire, they certainly did not want to test the waters. Every task was carried out neatly. Ever order was followed to perfection.

You were very much aware of this shift in mood, but carried on with a seemingly astounding lack of consideration. Thank heavens the prince had fully recovered, and your casual time together had thus resumed. Reading until sunset, archery classes that you had grown to excel at. A way to get rid of pent up emotions. And even gardening time in the warm summer days.

Except you no longer attended the regular dinners, sending the child away before privately dining in your personal quarters. You put on your own mask of indifference every time you caught a glimpse of the king, and it was quite literally eating him up from the inside.

Nanami’s thoughts were a spiraling, tumultuous mess. The monopoly you had taken over his thoughts. And your simple refusal to acknowledge him drove him to quiet insanity. No, that would not be entirely accurate. You still bowed to greet him every time you happened to be in a shared space. But the smile was gone from your face, tucked away from his sight. The gleeful tune of your laugh was no longer heard. You general candor now kept under wraps. And all of that was tantamount to not having you at all. And the king missed you. So very badly.

The king knew that what had transpired during your last conversation was the direct origin of his current predicament. But the stubborn part of his heart was unrelenting. I did not do anything wrong. I needed to establish that boundary. I’m doing it for Yuuji.

So he went on, trying to focus on the crisis his nation was faced with instead, fighting an upward battle to rid his thoughts of you. A battle he lost time and time again.

In the depths of the night, when he had no energy left to push away his longing, the king found himself wandering to the royal kitchens. Not at all hungry for bread, but hoping. Hoping he would find a certain someone in the cool of the room. Maybe sitting at the table, basking in the candle light. Night dress clinging onto your body delicately, eyes shining with questions and stories.

He rubbed a hand over his face. The room was empty, cold. Like every night since his return.

You did the right thing, Kento. You did it for Yuuji.

The mantra was starting to sound old, even to his own ears.

You were crouched by the flowers, watching Yuuji gently trace the petals of a blooming peony. The small garden that you considered yours had been in full bloom for the past couple of weeks. Having entirely missed the festivities of the flower festival because of his illness, Yuuji jumped excitedly when you suggested making him a flower crown. So you watched with an earnest smile as he walked around with a serious air, examining every blossom he wanted on his crown. So far, he had picked a sunflower, dahlias, marigolds. As well as bright orange lilies, germanium and roses.

This is certainly going to be quite the assortment. You chuckled to yourself, watching him head for yarrow bush. From the corner of your eye you noticed the king, walking through the nearby corridor. You felt the holes his eyes practically burned at the back of your neck, but did not turn around. Upon noticing his father’s fleeting presence, Yuuji waved excitedly. Nanami waved back and walked away without a word.

The boy then brought you the last of his picks, and you carried the rainbow of colors to the small tea table, keen on showing the young prince how to make his own crown. So he could make one for the whoever he deemed deserving of the gesture. Sometimes you wondered about who Yuuji kept as friends. He seldom had other children to play with, a staunch contrast to your upbringing in a big family. But you kept the thoughts to yourself, focusing on being there for him as much as you could.

“So, you turn the stem this way, so that it wraps around the other flow-” you were in the middle of demonstrating when you were interrupted by small hands covering yours.

“Mama,” he had taken to calling you that. And you simply did not have it in your heart to deny the child. In fact, the words delighted you. A testament to at least one secure attachment you had forged in this place.

“Yes, Yuuji? Is everything alright?” You looked at him curiously. Was he perhaps hungry? It was almost time for lunch.

“Are you and papa fighting?” Your brows furrowed. You had tried not to make it obvious to the child. He did not deserve to get caught up in between you two. But he was so smart, so perceptive. While not always keen on other cues, Yuuji was able to read people’s emotions with almost frightening accuracy.

You let go of the flower crown, watching it unravel slowly away from your guiding hands, and held the boy’s hand firmly. You leaned in, offering the most reassuring smile you could muster. “Don’t you worry about a thing, dear,” you shook his hand gently, earning you a light giggle from the boy. “Sometimes… grown ups need to have tough conversations. But that has nothing to do with you.”

“So you’ll still be my mama?” you felt your heart squeeze at the sentence, resting your hand on his cheek. “Of course, Yuuji. As long as I can!” he nuzzled into your touch.

“Awesome!” He beamed, attention returning to the flowers. “Because I love you and papa veeeeeeery much,” the smile was back on his lips but yours faltered a bit.

As long as you were allowed to be. You were the queen, but the title felt more and more like a farce. If the king did not acknowledge you as such, you did not know what you were allowed to keep. How much longer you could hold onto this connection. After all, he had said it himself. Yuuji was his son.

Haibara walked through the palace halls, sword heavy on his hip. After officially returning with the king from their trip down South, he had been assigned various tasks in the capital including gathering intel and placing informants in important places. He had not worked this hard since the trials of squirehood, and he was frankly exhausted. Fighting campaigns were predictable, and sometimes even fun. He found excitement in the madness. Away from the prying eyes of the aristocracy.

But elucidating what seemed to constitute high treason brought not an ounce of reprieve. Still, he was one of the few the king trusted enough to grant the task.

Unfortunately, with the king’s worsening temperament, he almost wished he was not entering his study to deliver a report. Nanami looked up through the glasses perched across his nose, acknowledging Haibara with a hum that sounded more like a grunt, before returning his attention to the documents before him. The knight bowed, greeting the king, but then looked up with a frown. He crossed his arms over this chest, the metal of his armor clanking at the action.

“Okay, so what on God’s green earth is going on?” The knight questioned, and the king fully looked up, tension evident in his strong brow.

“What do you mean by that? We are investigating possible treason and I am expecting information from you regarding your progress.”

Questioning the prisoners had unfortunately yielded little fruit. The person inciting the conflict had clearly been careful to never appear in person to those doing the fighting. There was no way to trace back directly to them. The description of the one who relayed this mastermind’s orders was limited to a “tall man with dark hair.”

But the financial records of the Southern city had at least highlighted three main families as possible suspects:

The Gojos, in view of their significant investments in the South and their history of power hunger (but why would their heir even offer help in that case? As a distraction?). The Zenins, with their solidly established duchy. They were known for their unscrupulous manners and had been under previous investigation for hiring militia. The thought of talking to Duke Naoya irritated the king to no end. That man was a stain on manhood. And finally, the Kamos. Though their Marquess was by no measure a honest man, Yuuji was still his grandson of sorts. Such a flagrant attack on the crown seemed maybe too ambitious, even for him. The king was at a loss about the situation.

But that was not the head knight’s current focus.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” the knight approached, shaking his head lightly. “Listen, Kento, I’m not sure exactly what is bothering you so deeply. But you have to figure that out before you can efficiently tackle anything else.” Haibara’s words were decisive, his gaze sharp as he looked at his king. But most importantly his friend. Who looked like his mind was actively imploding.

Nanami let out a breath. He truly hated how Haibara was able to see through him. To be fair, he had not been doing a grand job at hiding what bothered him anyway. In the grand scheme of things, his feelings should have been entirely unimportant. They had always been. The last thing to be considered when decisions were to be made.

But that did not stop the issue from infiltrating every corner of his being and souring his thoughts. The knight took slow steps until he sat in the chair facing the king, sighing at the sight in front of him.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” He asked, and Nanami’s eyes shot up to meet his friend’s, who took that as confirmation with a shake of his head. “Okay, so what did you do?”

“I?” Nanami sounded offended. Here it was, that stubbornness again. That pride.

“Yes, Kento, you. What happened?”

What sorcery did you possess to get everybody on your side. Though he was certain you had not said anything, everybody rallied to your defense. Yuuji had sulked for a whole week when Nanami had told him you were not to stay at his bedside anymore. And even the ever-charming Alma gave him disapproving looks.

Nanami sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. In defeat, he gave an overview of what had transpired between the two of you on the day he returned. He watched Haibara give himself the biggest facepalm, cursing under his breath at the words that left the king’s mouth.

“Now that was pretty fucking stupid of you,” Haibara said pointedly, and Nanami’s lips parted, about to protest when he continued. “And before you give any bullshit excuse, listen to yourself, Kento. Yuuji is your son, that is not up for question. But your insecurities about that are yours to deal with. You can’t just push her away because you feel inadequate and expect everything to be rosy. Do you not have one clue about how to treat women?” the knight rubbed at his temples, closing his eyes.

Nanami looked back at him, lips drawn into a thin line. He hated how he felt at the moment. How he knew that the man in front of him was right. His own pride had stopped him from acknowledging his faults because it felt easier. Somehow it felt easier to put himself through all this turmoil than face his fears of the unknown. Of the unfamiliar feelings that insistently crept and blossomed in his chest. Consuming his whole being and unfurling in a messy tango.

Nanami could not ask anything from you. Especially not the kind of love you freely gave to Yuuji. Wait, why was he even considering love? What did he know about love?

He knew devotion, he knew duty, but what had love taught him outside of his son? Hurt and pain. And absolute chaos. Chaos that he had spent his whole life fighting. Carefully ironing out every wrinkle in his being. Compartmentalizing every emotion into carefully crafted boxes.

But he knew Haibara was right. He had known for a while that things could not go on like this. Finding some sort of peace with you would be the only way to bring him any sort of respite. Even if you decided to not show him the openness you had before. Even if he had burned that bridge to the ground.

“I understand, Haibara,” Nanami sighed, taking off his glasses and resting them against the table. “I will fix it.”

Garden parties could often be a tedious affair. But after weeks of unanswered invitations, it was high time you made another appearance in high society. Even if just to appease the aristocracy. But as your carriage pulled into the royal gardens where the event was to be held, you were astounded by the grandiosity of it all. Everything you encountered in this kingdom truly reminded you of how small your home had been.

You stepped off the carriage, aided by a footman and walked leisurely as you were guided inside. Alma had insisted on you dressing as regal as possible for the occasion.

“High born ladies use these events to showcase their statute. You should wear something befitting their queen,” her tone was kind as she called for the other servants.

Your white dress's corset hugged your figure perfectly, its delicate lace collar resting across your shoulders. Golden lace gloves peeked from beneath the large sleeves, while the dress's white skirts cascaded down in layers, revealing glimpses of your golden petticoat beneath. The ensemble was finished with matching gold jewelry that, though somewhat heavy, you endured.

You reached the large greenhouse that stood tall at the center of the gardens, and braced yourself as you entered. As soon as they caught glimpse of you, the entire room halted. All the ladies and few gentlemen present bowed deeply in greeting, and you smiled to ease the atmosphere. They returned to their chatter, and you took a look around the room. Light food circulated in platters held by pristinely-dressed servants, and glasses of bubbling alcohol flowed as freely as the tea.

Soon enough, you were approached by Mei Mei, host of the whole ordeal. You bowed to each other in greeting, and she wrapped and arm around yours, behaving in a manner that suggested greater closeness between the two of you that was true. Still you let her, walking alongside to the main table.

“You look regal as always, your majesty,” she complimented, but you could tell the words were mere small talk. If anything, she was appraising the value of your golden embellishments.

“Thank you, though it is quite the challenge to look as opulent as you, Mei,” amusement cracked on her face at your reply, and she directed you to a seat next to hers at the table closest to the water fountain.

In your experience, garden parties were naught but gossip mills. As you sat down, you set your intentions. Spending as little time there as was socially acceptable, and keep your mouth shut. 5 months in this kingdom and all asking questions had ultimately amounted to was reproach. You had had enough. But that did not stop you from listening, the ladies around you certainly did not mince their words. You heard of a countess’ affair, of a marquess going broke and of new silks coming from the east. The stream of information flowed endlessly, to the point that you slowly checked out mentally. Tired, you looked around.

You saw Shoko and Utahime from the corner of your eye conversing over some pastries. They offered you warm smiles, which you returned. Clearly Mei Mei did not consider them of enough value to her to have them sat at the main table. Your returned your attention on the hostess, her white hair tumbling endlessly over her shoulders. But something was odd. The usually composed woman seemed rather on edge. And after prompting from the other ladies, she cracked.

“Those Zenins…” she scoffed. “Can you imagine the duke tried to pressure me into inviting him? Without offering a price at that, how dare he?” You remembered the rather haughty duke from the night of your first ball a few months back. He did not seem like the type to want to entertain such an event. So why was he interested?

“My queen, you have been so quiet,” your thoughts were interrupted by the lady to your left. “Are quite alright?”

“Oh, no need to worry.” you forced a chuckle and shook your head. “I am just a bit tired, that is all” The lady drew closer, attempting to speak in a hushed tone, but still loud enough to be heard by those around. “Is the king perhaps the reason for this fatigue?”

The words flustered you, and the rest of the ladies around erupted in a fit of giggles. The last time you had entertained any such thoughts were on your wedding night. And they were promptly shut down. If only they knew what was going on. The commenter excused herself for a bit, and the other ladies were still chuckling and chiding each other when someone approached the table.

“Well, can I join in on the fun, ladies?” Everyone’s head snapped to the intruder, the group seeming to immediately melt into a puddle. Your eyes too, found the mystery man.

“Duke Gojo,” they arose as a chorus and he greeted them with a bow.

Moving to kiss Mei on the cheek “Cousin,” he greeted casually before heading for the only empty seat where the Countess who was sitting beside you had just excused herself from.

“Your majesty,” he kneeled before you, making a show of kissing your hand. His appearance was striking indeed. The snow hair and sky blue eyes were compelling enough. But coupled with his blue Suit and golden buttons, you understood why most of the women’s eyes were on him. You bowed your head as greeting when he finally stood to sit beside you.

“Duke Gojo, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, my queen,” he picked up a glass of pearly champagne from passing servant. “I have been quite eager to meet you,” he smiled as he took a sip from the flute, eyes never leaving yours.

The insistence of his look was enough to fluster anyone, but you responded with a simple smile. You had grown used to the king’s stares and the authority behind his amber eyes. You feared nothing could ever intimidate you anymore. “I do hope I lived up to your expectations, then,” you entertained the small talk.

“Way beyond them, you truly are a sight for sore eyes. I see why the king is so enamored,” you wanted to laugh in his face. Enamored? Yeah, right. You wouldn’t have believed him for anything. You instead picked up your teacup, taking a long sip from the warm hibiscus tea.

The ladies at your table proceeded to ask the duke a flurry of questions about his absence, how he had been, how he was enjoying the season, if he was going to participate in the upcoming hunt and so on and so forth. The whole thing honestly made you a bit dizzy. But putting down your third cup of tea, you decided it was time to leave. You wanted to spend some time in the library before sunset.

You turned to Mei to announce your departure, and she responded with an open invitation for the next event. Before you could even get up, the duke stood and offered a hand.

“Please allow me to escort you back to your carriage, your majesty,” the words rolled smoothly from his lips, coupled with a dazzling smile. “It would be unbecoming of me to let you walk unaccompanied.”

“Thank you,” You took his hand, letting him guide you out of the greenhouse and into the courtyard’s warm air. His pace was slower than you would have preferred, but you did not rush him, giving occasional smiles and greetings to other people who had now spread out across the yard, smoking, playing games and chatting away.

“So how do you like our kingdom so far, your majesty?” the duke asked, and you looked up at him.

“Very diverting,” you replied curtly.

He laughed, turning towards you. “Very diverting indeed. Though with the king’s recent trip down South, I imagine there might be some troubles.”

Trip down South? Is that where Nanami had gone? You remembered the gossip about instability in the South. Of how it had driven up the price of pearls and imported stones. Is that why Nanami was so on edge? But how did the duke know, if even you had not been made aware.

You are just a help

Right, why would someone like you be privy to that sort of information.

Gojo noticed your silence, and chuckled again. “I apologize if that came off as rude,” he said, his smile turning sheepish.

“No, no, I am not offended,” You shook your head. “I appreciate your concerns but you do not have to worry about my situation,” you were finally a few paces away from the carriage, and the footman opened the door for you.

Gojo stopped, turning to face you before bringing your hand to his lips again. “It was a pleasure to be in your company today, my queen.”

“Mine as well, duke Gojo” you nodded.

“And please, call me Satoru,” the smile he flashed at you was dazzling indeed

You finally boarded the carriage. The coach driver set the vehicle in motion, and you felt it rock gently as it advanced. Standing where you had left him, the duke’s face held a sly smile.

Interesting. Quite interesting indeed.

The sky was painted in strokes of scarlet and amber as the sun dipped below the horizon. You had been in the library, by the large windows for the better half of an hour, but your efforts at reading the book that laid in your lap were in vain. You had told yourself you would stop thinking about it. That you would accept the position that you were so strongly reminded of and stop thinking about the damn man. But the words from the garden party about the king stuck with you.

Nanami had gone down South, most likely to deal with the crisis. But that information was kept private. The secrecy of the matter piqued your interest beyond belief. Was there someone the king was hoping to catch? And would his foul mood be evidence of lack of success in this endeavor? You breathed in deeply. To be truthful these were just distractions. To not dwell on the hurt that knocked you out when you thought of his rejection. Yes, it had felt like a rejection. Even though you had never even expressed your wishes for something more. You bottled up the hope and the hurt and all of your emotions and locked them away. You had to focus on finding fulfillment in this place. In the things you could do, rather than dreaming of the impossible.

You registered the sound of steps headed your direction. Too heavy to be a child’s, too precise to be anyone but one person’s.

“Your majesty,” you bowed your head in greeting even before you had to look up to see him.

Before you stood the king, imposing as always. But decidedly different than he had been before. More tired. And somehow less guarded. He stopped a couple feet away from your chair, not saying anything for a few moments. You finally looked up, waiting for him to make known the reason for his presence. He certainly did not come just to watch you read.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” he began, walking to sit on the cream sofa across from you. There he was again, calling you by your name and not your title. But it brought no feeling of warmth for you. Instead, you sat, guarded. Bracing yourself for whatever was coming this time.

“How can I be of service to you today, your majesty?” you spoke monotone, closing the book in your lap. He sighed, clasping his hands tightly. He knew he deserved every ounce of attitude from you. Of coldness. But still, part of him had hoped for a warmer reception. He sighed, prepping himself for what he had prepared to do.

“Two weeks ago,” he spoke slowly, voice grave, “I was returning from an investigation in the Southern port city, that was where I had been,” he figured he would answer the first question you had asked that day.

“I appreciate your sudden… openness. But I have already been informed of that,” his brow raised at your reply.

“How, if I may ask?” He had explicitly instructed Ichiji to keep everything secret and Haibara would not be one to go spread information pertaining to national security.

“Duke Gojo.” You said plainly, and you noticed the way the king’s jaw visibly tensed.

“Duke Gojo, huh?” he repeated the words, contempt heavy in his voice. “I did not know you two had such a friendly rapport,” he was getting distracted. He knew it but he could not contain the feeling that burned through him. Foreign but distinct. Jealousy. That was a man who knew how to treat a woman. He had even showed interest in you. That was more than enough to put the king on edge.

You did not reply to the words, seeing them as provocatory. Instead your silence requested the king to go on. To get to the point of this meeting. Why was he telling you this now? Did he feel bad? That did not matter, because his words now did not change what he had said and done. You waited for a few more moments in the tense silence but eventually sighed, standing up.

“If that is all, I will retire to my quarters now,” you turned away, but he stood faster than you could even register, and his hand closed around your wrist.

"Wait—just... wait." His voice was low, almost pleading, as he drew closer, your breaths mingling in the charged space between you. His hand lingered on your arm, pulling you near enough that your chest nearly brushed his. Your breath hitched, and pulse quickened, breaking through the mask of indifference you clung to like armor. You loathed the way your body reacted to him. The way your mind secretly rejoiced at the proximity. How long had it been since he had touched you in any way?

"What can I do to fix this?" His words wavered, raw and desperate. "Tell me, Y/N. Name your price. Is it a gift you want? Gold, diamonds... land?" His gaze flickered, searching yours for something he couldn’t name. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted across your cheek.

"Or perhaps..." His tone hardened, a bitter edge creeping in as he narrowed his eyes. "A lover? That fellow Satoru—would he suffice?"

Your gasp sliced through the tension. You tore your arm free from his grasp, retreating a step as fury and hurt flashed in your eyes.

"I did not know His Majesty held me in such low regard," you spoke, voice unsteady. Was this what he thought you were after? Some sort of recompense? "Do you think me so shallow, so vain, that I would be appeased by your trinkets? And a lover?" Your voice cracked, not from weakness but indignation. "I want none of it—least of all him."

A beat of silence passed in the room.

“I apologize,” his eyes met the floor. Part of him knew that you sought none of these things he had offered. But that was all the currency he knew. Kaori had been happy to be lavished with riches. Her romantic pursuits after she gave birth to Yuuji had been enough to put even some of the most audacious flirts to shame. That was the language she had spoken to him. But you were not her.

You are not her. So simple yet so hard to unlearn. You can’t just push her away, Haibara’s words sounded in his mind. All he had been doing was keeping you at arm’s length. And that only brought more turmoil to his own heart. He needed to face the facts. He needed to admit the truth. To himself and to you.

“I do not think of you as such,” his eyes returned to yours, brimming with emotion. You could decipher hesitation, maybe fear, but he pushed on. “In fact, I hold you in much higher regard than even I thought possible.” His hands fell to his side, “Y/N I apologize for the way I have acted. You being in Yuuji’s life. You being in my life has been nothing short of a blessing,” he sighed, “And I let myself be blinded by fear and insecurity and acted in a way unbecoming of a king. I sincerely did not mean to hurt or insult you”

Your lips were drawn into a thin line. There it was, an apology. But was this truly permission to go back to doing things the way they were before? Did you even want to go back to the way things were before?

“Kento,” your voice had calmed down. His first name felt unfamiliar on your tongue, but he looked up at you, almost startled. You stepped closer. “You need to tell me what it is you want from me.” your voice was firm. “If there is a line I am not to cross, please draw it right now. So that I will know to stay behind it.”

He took a deep breath in. Here was his chance, to finally get what he thought he had wanted from the beginning. To have you know that this was all a ploy. To let you know where you stood in his home. As a placeholder queen, a placeholder mother. At least that was what he had intended in the beginning. But you broke through that mold he had created in his mind. The people considered you their queen. His son considered you his mother. And him, what did you mean to him?

He took a hold of your hands. Gentle, this time. Almost afraid you would pull away once more. “I do not know where to draw that line anymore,” his deep voice held raw honesty. “I seem to have lost control entirely.” His thumbs caressed the back of your hand and your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. “How about you draw it this time. Please tell me where to stand.”

Push him away and he would never dare to approach again.

Draw him close, and he would risk losing himself entirely in you.

The ball is in the reader's court. What will she do???

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

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silentscrying · 5 months ago

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🏀 buzzer beater | chapter ELEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, slight unwanted advances, mahito in general, fangirl todo. || sfw. 5.3k words.

THE NEXT DAY, the Curses take the series against the Foxes. It’s official: the Sorcerers-Curses rivalry will come to a head in the NBA championships, starting on Friday in San Diego.

The team went harder than ever at practice today, not only drilling but talking strategy and getting into the nitty-gritty of the psychological impact of the rivalry. Yaga knows Mei Mei and the Curses don’t go easy, or fair. They’re ready.

As you pull out the keys to your apartment, you frown at the package on your welcome mat, a weird cylindrical shape with no return address. After you make it to the kitchen, you open it and find a rolled-up sheet of glossy paper. What?

You spread it out on your countertop and see an official signed poster of Satoru, in full uniform, palming a basketball in one hand with a huge smirk on his face. With the photo’s professional editing, his eyes look even more blue than usual, and you may or may not stare at them a second too long.

“Jesus fuck,” you say.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes.

six: did you get my gift?? you: is this for target practice? how sweet six: :( you: baby six: oh it’s like that😏 you: that was an insult

When your phone goes off again after you’ve relegated the rolled-up poster to an end table, you assume it’s Satoru responding. But instead, you find a text from Geto.

suguru geto: Thought about my offer at all?

Great. He waited until the Curses made the championships and just thought he’d try again? You screenshot the text and send it to Satoru.

you: what if i turn on read receipts just for this

six: HAHAHAHA

You won’t, because you’re still planning on taking Geto by surprise on Friday when he realizes you and Satoru are actually together. Your phone rings, and your brow furrows as you realize you don’t recognize the number or the area code.

“Sorcerers management,” you greet, and a high-pitched voice comes through the speaker.

“Hi there! This is Takada with the Reggie Star Show.” You hesitate for a moment. Reggie’s show is kind of a huge deal, and Takada has become something of a personality herself, although you’ve always found her a bit over the top.

“Uh, how can I help you?” you ask finally.

“So! Reggie would love to invite Satoru Gojo onto the show before the NBA championships.” You stand stock-still in your kitchen.

What the fuck, you mouth silently to yourself. It’s not like Reggie never has athletes on the show. But only Satoru?

“Not the rest of the team?” you clarify, and Takada laughs, a high, kind of shrill sound that has you holding your phone a bit away from your ear.

“Well, you see, we’re hoping to promote the series a bit by pulling the centers from both teams! Mr. Geto has already agreed, so we’d love to interview him and Mr. Gojo together.”

Oh, Jesus.

You are 100% certain this is Mei Mei’s doing. You instinctively want to reject her now, but this isn’t really your call.

“Let me run this by Gojo and the coaches, and I can get back to you, Takada,” you say, hoping that tides her over for now.

“No problem. Thank you!” she chirps, and the line goes dead. You groan, staring at the ceiling. This is not worth the hassle. You swipe to Satoru’s contact and call him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” he drawls, and you roll your eyes.

“Asshole. So, guess who just called me?”

“If you say Suguru I’m flying to San Diego early and cornering him in an alley.”

You laugh. “Okay, Jesus. No. Uh, the Reggie Star Show?”

“What?” Satoru screeches.

“They have Geto coming on before championships,” you sigh, “and they want you too. To ‘promote the series’ or whatever. Drama on screen.”

“Mei Mei’s idea?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“I don’t really think I have time, considering… it’s championships and we’re training every day? Yaga would be pissed, probably. Not much of a publicity guy.”

Something in your chest loosens at his words. Truthfully, you really don’t want him to go, to be in a situation where he and Geto can only verbally spar through a guise of political politeness.

“Also, I just… don’t want to?” he says. You grin.

“Good. I was hoping.”

“Aw, don’t want me to launch my television career?” You sink onto your couch as he keeps talking. “That could be a great return on investment for you, you know. You have my autograph now.”

“Shut up. And don’t tell Nobara about this. She’d be so mad at you.”

“Scaryyy,” he says, and he’s not joking. “Come over for dinner?” The change in topic has you smiling as you kick your feet up on the coffee table. “Miki and Gumi are coming. And Yuji.”

“And the dogs?”

“Am I not enough for you?” he scoffs, and you grin.

“Not even close.”

“Yes, the dogs, you heathen.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you say innocently, and hang up on him.

—

Tsumiki meets you at Satoru’s door with a massive grin on her face and immediately pulls you into a hug.

“Hi!” she says excitedly, ushering you inside.

“Hey, Tsumiki,” you smile, and then there’s a rapid pitter-patter of the dogs rounding the corner into the entryway, and you fall into a pile of fur and kisses. “Hi, buddies! Hi!” Shiro shoves her nose into your face and Kuro plops himself down in your lap right as Satoru rounds the corner.

“Stealing my girlfriend,” he whines.

“Dumbass,” you say, and let him help you up. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and you blush against your will.

“C’mon. Pasta’s ready.” You follow Satoru into the kitchen and find Yuji and Megumi putting plates on the small table. You raise a brow.

“Whose cooking?”

“Whose do you think?” Tsumiki asks.

“I helped!” Yuji insists, pointing to the oven. “I’m making garlic bread!”

Tsumiki pats him on the shoulder and says, “Yes, Yuji, you did a great job.”

You fire off a quick message to Yaga to confirm that it’s okay to reject Takada’s offer, and he responds within two minutes, Please do.

You step out to make the call, and when you come back into the kitchen, Yuji and Tsumiki are giggling at something.

“What are you two on about?” you ask, and Tsumiki, still snickering, hands you her phone. It’s open to a tweet of a grainy computer screenshot, and it says SOMEONE LOOK AT ME THE WAY SATORU GOJO LOOKS AT THE SORCERERS MANAGER PLS PLSPLS

That’s not even the part that gets you. First of all, it’s not from the most recent game—it’s from before you were together. You’re wearing the Limitless shirt.

Second, Kasumi retweeted it.

“Jesus,” you say, and Satoru appears at your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You swat at him without looking and then pull out your phone to text Kasumi. “I need to tell her before she finds out somewhere else.”

As if on cue, your phone lights up with her name. Your first thought is that she somehow already knows and is FaceTiming you to scream at you. You swipe and her face materializes in front of you, a massive grin on her face and—has she been crying?

“Kasumi! Are you okay?”

“Yes!” she practically screams. And then she holds up her hand, and you stare for a long moment before realizing she’s wearing a ring.

“Holy shit!” you screech. “Kasumi!” The grin splits across your face, and she’s laugh-crying on the other end of the phone, and then she abruptly freezes.

And you realize Satoru’s very much visible in the frame behind you.

“Alley-oop,” she says. “You motherf—Alley. Is that—”

You can see the tips of your ears going pink in the camera in the corner of the screen. “Surprise?”

“To you, maybe!” she laughs. “Holy shit. Holy shit! This is the best day of my life.”

Muta appears beside Kasumi, squinting at the screen. “Tell me it’s because we’re getting married and not because she and Gojo finally banged.” Megumi wrinkles his nose at the other end of the table.

“Kokichi,” Kasumi scolds, but Satoru cracks up behind you and you can’t help but follow suit.

“Congrats, you guys,” you say. “I’m so happy for you. Does Akari know?”

“She’s next on the list,” Kasumi grins.

“We’ll let you go, then,” you say, and take a moment to just appreciate how fucking happy your friend looks. Her blue hair is a mess and her eyes are rimmed red, but she’s glowing. This has been a long time coming. You couldn’t be happier for her, honestly.

When she hangs up, Satoru grins and says, “Aw, basketball romance.” Then he looks pointedly at Yuji and Megumi.

“I suddenly feel like a fifth wheel,” Tsumiki announces. Then she looks at Shiro and Kuro, curled up together on the couch. “Seventh wheel?”

You plop into the chair next to Tsumiki and wrap your arm around her. “Nah, Satoru’s seventh wheeling. I’m here for you.”

She grins, and Satoru falls to his knees and dramatically fakes his own death. The dogs leap off the couch to investigate, and soon he’s laughing as Shiro slobbers all over him while Kuro decides to lay across his legs.

In truth, you don’t remember the last time you felt this content. It’s a nice feeling, warm.

And then a smell hits you, like something burning, and you furrow your brows and turn toward the kitchen. “Is something—”

“Oh my god!” Yuji screeches, practically falling out of his chair and bolting for the kitchen. “The garlic bread!”

—

The results of turning down the Reggie Star offer have, quite possibly, the funniest results of all time.

You’re curled up on Satoru’s couch two days later with your feet on his lap and Tsumiki on your other side, Megumi and Yuji sprawled with the dogs on the floor. On the TV, Todo walks on stage to a cheering studio audience and locks eyes with Takada, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he just passed out right now.

“Simp,” Satoru says. You look at him incredulously. “Okay, hey, I did not say I wasn’t also.” He plants a kiss on your temple and Megumi pretends to gag.

You swear Todo literally has physical stars in his eyes when he looks at her. He shakes her hand with both of his and does a weird half-bow and says, “It’s such an honor, Ms. Ta—“

“Oh, please,” Takada giggles. “Just call me Takada.” Todo goes red again, stammering out a response.

“This is the most painful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Megumi says. He’s only watching this because Yuji wants to.

“Mr. Aoi Todo,” Reggie Star says grandly, throwing an arm around him like they’re already best buds. “Take a seat, take a seat. Thanks again for joining us on such short notice!”

Todo takes his place on the couch while Reggie and Takada sit in opposing armchairs, the background flashing the Reggie Star Show logo as the theme music peters out. Reggie grills Todo with questions about the Samurai-Sorcerers series, playing against Yuji after playing with him in college, all the connections the team has with half of the championship bracket. And throughout, Todo just can’t tear his gaze away from Takada.

By the time it’s over you’re nearly falling off the couch, laughing yourself halfway to tears.

“Guys, it’s cute! He has a crush!” Yuji exclaims, and you all laugh harder. Tsumiki collapses into you, her hair spreading out over the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing—one of Satoru’s, blue and black and smelling like him.

After the commercial break, which consisted of an actually absurd amount of Takada promoting various useless products, Todo is nowhere to be found. Geto sits on the couch in his place with a press-worthy smile and a crisp, navy blue suit.

“And here we’ve got the starting center of one of the two NBA teams gunning for the championship title, Mr. Suguru Geto,” Reggie introduces, and the studio audience whoops and cheers as Geto waves them off, smiling modestly. You kind of want to slap him.

“Now, let’s not beat around the bush here, Suguru—you’re going up against the Sorcerers the day after tomorrow, and that means you’re coming face to face with your old teammate, Satoru ‘Six-Eyes’ Gojo.” Reggie looks pointedly out at the crowd, like they’re in on some big secret, and turns back to Geto. “How do you feel about this match-up, two starting centers with a lengthy history on the court with stakes this high?”

Geto sighs and leans forward a bit in his seat, one elbow on the armrest. “Well, Reggie, Satoru and I go back a long time.” You wrinkle your nose at the sound of his first name in Geto’s mouth. You feel weirdly defensive about it. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we went to high school together and then college, so we’ve been playing basketball together since our early teens.”

Takada chimes in, “That’s quite the bond, going through the most formative parts of your careers together!” You can’t take her seriously, because in your head she’s still winking at the camera and waxing poetic about the merits of some new Japanese skincare line.

Reggie nods, encouraging Geto to go on. “I’ve gotta say, I am looking forward to seeing him again. He’s a hard man to get ahold of these days. It’ll be good to see him, albeit on opposite sides of the court.”

“No, it will not,” Satoru says with a false cheer in his voice, pointing a finger gun at the TV.

“And how do you think your odds are looking for this series?”

“Well,” Geto laughs, “the Sorcerers are talented, I’ll give them that. Clearly, they’ve made it this far. But I will say that the Curses are first seed with home court advantage.” He shrugs. “So do with that what you will.”

Takada glances at Reggie, as if asking permission for something, and he nods. “If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Geto, there’s another familiar face on the other side of things as well, a former manager of the Curses.”

Geto nods, a wide smile crossing his face, and you feel Satoru tense up beside you. “Oh, we miss her a lot, yes. She’s great at what she does. I keep telling her she should make her way back to San Diego if she feels so inclined.” He laughs, like this is some great ongoing joke.

“Oh, so you two still speak regularly, then?” Reggie asks, intrigued. Your jaw clenches, and Satoru’s hand encloses yours before it can become a fist.

“I just recently paid her a visit out east.” Oh my god. Oh my god.

“That fucker,” Satoru growls. Your phone buzzes with a message from Ieiri.

my wife: this little man bun bitch

my wife: what if i commit murder. what then

You’re seething, and even Tsumiki is frowning, the lines creasing her face, turning the corners of her mouth down. Paid you a visit? As if you’re friends and he came to catch up with you over coffee, not dropped in on your street in the dark to harass you about a job you don’t want?

“Well, sounds like it’ll be quite the reunion,” Reggie is saying by the time the smoke clears out of your ears enough for you to hear again.

Tsumiki reaches across you to ruffle Satoru’s hair. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him.”

You shoot a quick message back to Ieiri.

you: tbh i’d pay a lot of money to see y’all in a cage match

Reggie and Takada shift to broader questions about the series and you tune out most of the remainder of the segment, irritated when Geto answers one too many questions with Satoru’s name, subtly suggesting that the Sorcerers have none of the grit and discipline the Curses do.

“They’re a fun bunch,” he says at one point. “Like a barrel of monkeys. They just have a good time.” The tone is all fake, smoothed-out public relations, and it makes your blood boil. You know what he’s really implying, that it’s an insult. That the Sorcerers spend all their time hanging off hoops instead of drilling themselves into the ground. You know it’s not true. You’ve watched them work their asses off all year.

“God forbid we know how to have fun,” Satoru snorts, and you feel the tension easing from your shoulders just at the sound of his voice.

“You don’t,” you say teasingly, flipping yourself around on the couch so your head lands in his lap. “That’s entirely Kento.”

Satoru gasps and looks down at you. “You take that back. Nanami is the most unfun—“

“Not a word,” Tsumiki says helpfully.

“Everyone in this house hates me! Slander under my own roof!” He digs his fingers into your sides and starts tickling you, and you squirm out of his grasp and onto the ground, but he follows you. Soon it’s a mess of Shiro and Kuro frantically pouncing on both of you as you squeal for Satoru to let you go, and Tsumiki is definitely filming this whole thing, and it’s all so incredibly domestic and unserious and right that your heart swells in your chest.

Fuck Geto. He can’t get to you here, and he can’t take you away from the team you love.

—

Being in San Diego again is strange. The facilities are familiar, the gyms, the locker rooms, but you’re walking them a different person than you left them, experiencing the same setting in a new context that makes you feel like you’re living in one prolonged moment of déjà vu.

Nobara walks alongside you, bouncing between social media notifications and ranting about the way Geto made the Sorcerers sound on national television last night. Ieiri’s setting up in the training room down the hall, and Yaga’s pulled the guys into the locker room for a quick meeting before they launch into their last practice before the next day’s match.

You keep thinking about Yaga pulling you aside this morning, murmuring a quick warning in your ear. “If you see Mei Mei, no you don’t. Not worth the time. Just slip away.”

So far there’s been no sign of the other manager, and you’re glad for it.

Nobara’s phone starts ringing and she nods at you and peels off, pressing it to her ear and slipping deeper into the building. You lean against the wall, checking your own phone, making sure you don’t have any missed calls or emails.

The side doors open loudly, metal scraping across the floor, and you look up.

Fuck.

It seems Mei Mei doesn’t do her own damn dirty work.

“Oh, hello!” Mahito crows, making his way over to you. You didn’t like him when you worked for the Curses and you don’t like him now, his leering grin too wide for his face, hair tied into three sections behind his back. Him, you know—but you haven’t yet met the man beside him, a lanky, tall guy with oddly wide eyes and a long blond ponytail weirdly off-center on his head.

Of course, you know who he is. You’ve done your research, you’ve seen the roster. Haruta Shigemo.

“I hoped you’d be here.” Mahito comes to a stop in front of you as you push off the wall, crossing your arms.

“Mahito.” Your voice is cold, flat.

He frowns, an exaggerated, off-putting gesture. “Thought it’d be a happier reunion,” he says. He holds his arms out toward Shigemo with a flourish. “I’d like you to meet Haruta. He, ah, was something of a replacement for your Six-Eyes.”

Shigemo stares at you, unblinking, a small, close-lipped smile sending a shiver down your spine. You’re suddenly aware of how close these two men are to you, that your back is to the wall, that you’re alone in the hallway.

“Look, I really have a lot to get done—”

“Oh, we don’t mean to bother you!” Mahito laughs, high-pitched and manic. “We just wanted to welcome you back home, you know. Make sure you settled in to the old stomping grounds.” He leans in, breath smelling like some odd combination of fruity gum and stale crackers. You shudder involuntarily. “I hope you don’t take it too hard when they lose,” he whispers, too close to your face. “Should you need an out, remember we’re in your corner.”

Shigemo holds a hand up as you’re about to retort, tilting his head and studying you. “If he’s not your type,” he giggles, nodding at Mahito, “I’ve got some time on my hands tonight.”

Your face flushes deep red with anger, fists going white-knuckled at your side. “I do not need—”

“Excuse me,” says a cool, familiar voice, and the tension in your muscles goes slack as Kento comes to stand directly between you and your newfound nuisances. “I believe we’ve already taken care of any business that needed tending to before the match tomorrow, yes? Is there anything else I can help you with? We’re just about to kick off practice, and I’m afraid our time is limited.”

Mahito steps back, holding his arms up in false surrender. “Nanami! Hello!” He grins widely. “We’re representatives, of a sort. Just making sure the bunch of you are settled in.” Shigemo nods and looks Kento up and down, calculating.

“We are just fine,” he says flatly, nudging you with a hand behind his back. You nod at the two Curses players and storm down the hallway toward the gym, heart racing in your chest. Behind you, you hear Kento still talking. “Do tell Mei Mei her… thoughtfulness is noted.”

In the gym, the guys are warming up, and your eyes immediately lock on Megumi, angrily slamming an innocent basketball against the wall, over and over. Yuji dribbles between his knees without looking at his ball, watching Megumi intently.

You don’t see Satoru, and for a moment you’re worried, feeling a little off-balance, until you feel hands on your shoulders, spinning you around. “Well, hello,” he says, and you laugh, dropping your head into his chest.

“Fuck is up with Megumi?” you ask, nodding toward him, and Satoru frowns. You notice now the tension in him, the slight anger in his eyes, an energy like impatience and frustration all around his edges.

“Suguru was fucking with him. Saying shit about Tsumiki. I was dealing with him.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, considering as he looks over your shoulder at Yuji drawing Megumi back onto the court. “He’s such a dick.”

Kento walks in then, making his way straight over to you. “You okay?” he asks, and Satoru’s brows knit together.

“What? Why wouldn’t she—” He turns to you. “Why wouldn’t you be okay? What happened?”

“Mahito,” you say. “Shigemo, too. Fucking pricks.”

Satoru breathes in sharply, his grip on your shoulder tightening protectively. “If they put their fucking hands on you—”

“Toru,” you say, the nickname slipping out without your permission. It seems to calm him down a little, makes him look at you steadily. “Kento got them out of the way. And they won’t do anything to me. They’re just doing Mei Mei’s bidding, same as Geto, probably.” You grab his hands in yours, nodding at Kento to say you’ll be okay. He inclines his head and walks away, gathering the rest of the team in the center of the gym.

“They want to get under your skin. Don’t let them."

Your voice is steady and calm, coated with a reassurance you don’t feel. Your nerves are still on high alert, Mahito’s breathing down your neck, Shigemo’s unsettling scrutiny lingering in your mind. But you know they’re not after you. You’re a conduit for them, a way to fuck with Satoru. And you will not let them.

“Don’t let them,” he echoes, sighing, pulling you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Remember, flagrantly disgusting display of public affection. Imagine their faces.”

He laughs, loud and bright, and something warm blooms in you at the sound. “God, you’re the best.”

“I know.” You pull back and shove him in the direction of the team. “Now go practice so I can watch you kick their asses.”

He grins at you, does a little half-bow, snapping back into his untouchable, unbothered self. “Anything for you.”

—

There's really no reason for you to have the clipboard in your hands. Every note you’ve taken is committed to memory. You know both team’s rosters inside and out, know every detail of the schedule, what a win or a loss means for the schedule, score projections, all of it. But you need something to do with your hands, so you hold onto it, clicking and unclicking your pen, scribbling in the margins of old brackets, trying to contain all your nervous energy into a manageable space.

And you’re not the only one overflowing with energy. The stadium is alive. The lights are bright, the crowd raucous, the massive hanging scoreboard broadcasting CHAMPIONSHIP SHOWDOWN SPONSORED BY KFC. You don’t think you could eat right now even if someone shoved a bucket of fried chicken into your hands.

“That’s just mean,” Satoru mutters under his breath, gazing up at the advertisement.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothin’.”

He glances down at you and then across the court, where Geto has been tracking the two of you with searching eyes. Mei Mei hides behind a clipboard as well, though you notice her eyes flickering back and forth, studying Satoru, you, Yaga. You pointedly avoid looking at Mahito and Shigemo. Pricks.

The NBA championship series. Sorcerers versus Curses. It all comes to a head here, an endless rivalry for a championship title.

“So, I’m thinking now or never,” Satoru says, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. When you realize what he means, it takes everything in you not to glance across the court at Geto. A smirk spreads across your face, and you grab Satoru’s jersey and pull him toward you.

“Good luck,” you say, and then you kiss him, hard and long and intentional, and you know Geto sees you.

“I think,” Satoru says, pulling back a little breathlessly, “we should do that every game.” He grins and you swat him away, making your way over to Ieiri and Nobara in the far corner, and you can’t wipe the smile from your own face. On the way there you chance a look across the court. Geto isn’t looking at you, but he’s looking at Satoru, talking lowly out of the corner of his mouth to Mei Mei.

Point for me, you think.

“You’re actually nauseating,” Nobara says when you reach her. You know she’s not serious. She knew the plan. She loved the plan.

“I’m making a point,” you say anyway. She follows your tilted head toward Geto and Mei Mei, and you watch the slow, shit-eating grin spread across her face.

“Oh, so worth it,” she murmurs.

You tug the headset on and listen to the unfamiliar announcers, wishing it was Zenin and Panda in your ears but settling for the new, faceless voices instead. They’re not the same guys who usually commentated on the home court when you worked for the Curses, and you’re oddly glad about it, that there’s not another reminder of the loaded history here right in your ears.

“Charles Bernard here with Rika Orimoto,” the new voice says, “ready to watch this long-time rivalry play out in real time.”

When she speaks up, Rika’s voice is bright and younger than you expected, animated where Bernard is entirely deadpan. Interesting partnership.

As the starters take their positions, you’re surprised to see that Satoru’s not the one taking the tip-off.

Kento is. And in front of him, eye-to-eye with a sardonic smile, is Mahito.

Ah, shit.

The ref’s expression is flat and unaffected, but his eyes dart between the two shooting guards as they face off in the center of the court. You wish you could hear what they’re saying.

“An unusual choice for both teams here as we kick off this final series,” Bernard says. “Neither of our centers taking the tip-off today.”

Kento shows no emotion as the ref lets go of the ball, and Mahito leaps, but he’s not fast enough.

“Number thirty-seven Kento Nanami swipes the tip-off without hesitation!” Rika announces. “Back to number six, the Sorcerers' Satoru Gojo, and a fantastic pass up to Fushiguro.”

The Curses' hulking point guard, Jogo, is right up in Megumi’s face with a massive hand reaching out to block, but Yuji grabs the rebound and pounds it through the hoop in seconds.

“And the Sorcerers take the lead just sixteen seconds in,” Bernard says. You look over at Ieiri and Nobara, grinning, and then back to where Mei Mei stands with a stony expression across the court.

You feel good about this.

Back and forth, back and forth. Ino is giving Jogo a run for his money, using his speed to dart around the massive point guard before he even sees what’s coming. In his breakaways Yuji keeps finding himself pitted against Mahito, and it seems like it’s always a fifty-fifty whether the block is successful.

“Some subs as we enter the second quarter. On San Diego's side we have Haruta Shigemo on for Fumihiko Takaba.”

“Yuta Okkotsu on for the Sorcerers!” Rika says, a little too excitedly, before she catches herself and calms down.

“Someone has a fangirl,” Nobara snorts beside you, holding just one side of the headset to her ear.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Satoru and Geto as they go up and down the court, always on each other’s heels, breathing hard. It’s personal, and everyone can see it. If they’re saying anything you can’t make it out.

Both teams are going all-out right now, and the fans feel it too. Megumi’s guarding Naoya Zenin like a shadow, something in the air around them tense and constant. You don’t see Yuji’s uncle but you can certainly hear him, somewhere behind you on the visitors’ side, screaming, “HELL YEAH! SHOW THEM WHAT A WIN REALLY MEANS! THESE FUCKERS WOULDN’T KNOW FIRE IF IT LIT UNDER THEIR ASSES!”

You give it two minutes before he’s kicked out.

Inumaki goes on, then Hakari, and at some point the Curses swap Jogo out for Dagon, and it’s go, go, go. You can barely catch your own breath by the half, the game wrapping around you like you’re the one playing it, and Satoru’s drenched in sweat as the team files back to the locker room. He reaches out and pinches you in the side and you stick your tongue out at him, like the mature adult you are.

“Gross,” Nobara says.

The rest of the game goes by in a similar blur of shots and blocks and heated matchups, Toge nailing a few free throws, Takaba coming back on and managing to slip past Megumi only once. The scoreboard never reads more than a six-point deficit.

You almost don’t hear the buzzer when it’s finally over, players skidding to a stop on the court, their heads turned up toward the scoreboard.

“Holy shit,” Ieiri breathes beside you. “We won. We actually fucking won.”

You rip off the headset, the grin overtaking you, relief and pride flooding your veins like a drug, and the rest of the team floods the court in celebration. They beat a first seed team on their home court.

Satoru catches your eye over the mass of people and smiles, and you wave back.

And this is only the beginning.

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