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Speedwalking down the crowded aisle of the train station, Ozawa quickly hopped on the first car she saw. She sighed out, relieved, clutching her bag close to her, careful to keep the contents safe. She was really fortunate for the store’s attendant to be so kind when packaging her purchase, at least she wouldn’t be humiliated in public. She had been so excited to pick up this volume, it was the newest one from her favorite artist, and she also was able to pick up some cute stationary to draw on. She couldn’t wait to get home and try it out.
It was at this moment that Itadori Yuuji came into her field of view.
She stopped, realizing that it had been a while since she had seen him. How many months had that been? It was pleasant, they had just chatted, but they forgot to exchange contact information, so he’d gone into the back of her mind. Yuuji didn’t see her—The train was packed tight—but he smiled as he looked up at someone, the flutter of the tracks rummaging through her core.
Where had he gotten those scars? She tried to count the number of months it had been, but she quickly realized that she had lost track. Maybe she had moved on already, but she knew she hadn’t.
Another hand tapped Yuuji on the shoulder and quietly whispered something inaudible. Yuuji smiled, nodding back, and showed them something on his phone. Curious to see what kind of person Yuuji was spending his day off with, Ozawa weaved through the crowd to get a better look.
It was a tall, white-haired man who stood directly to Yuuji’s left. Anyone like that in Japan would be immediately striking, but his clothing was also tailored well, and certainly not cheap. She couldn’t tell if he was purposefully drawing attention to himself or just arrogantly luxurious—It’s not like she could get a good look at his face. The man decided to wear dark sunglasses indoors.
The train shuttered to a stop, and Yuuji nudged the man, motioning for them to get off. Ozawa clutched her bag close. She was only a couple stops away from home, and then she could read her books in peace. This could just be a short detour.
Worried, she looked at the train’s clock. It would only be a couple of minutes. There was another train coming in half an hour. She didn’t know when she would see Yuuji again. It had already been months.
Decisively, Ozawa stepped off the car.
The two got off the train somewhere near Shinjuku. Hesitantly, Ozawa followed them out of the car. It was too late for a disguise, so the least she could do was keep a far enough distance behind them so it wouldn’t be immediately suspicious. If Yuuji spotted her, then she could just pretend that she didn’t notice them, it was easy. She lived here now, after all.
It was a little frustrating that she couldn’t hear them, so she pushed through the crowd, making sure that there were enough people in between her and her target.
“What do you usually get here, sensei?” That was Yuuji’s voice.
Sensei? Was he his schoolteacher? That didn’t seem right, it was a day off, and they were both in casual clothes. Why would a student be out with their teacher on a weekend? A doctor, perhaps? Maybe a family friend. That would explain the high-end clothing.
“Ah, well I only came here once after a mission one time, and it was delightful. They have plenty of options.” His voice was smoother than she expected. A little whiny? She wondered how old he was, he couldn’t be over 25. She didn’t want to interrupt time with a friend, but maybe—Just maybe—In the future she could take Yuuji somewhere like this.
The two turned suddenly, entering a building. Ozawa stared at her own reflection in the glass doors as the two of them got seated in the back by a hostess.
Wait, were they going to a café together?
Whatever. She didn’t care anymore. It was do or die. This might be her one chance to get some private information into Yuuji’s personal life. It was wrong, but she had to know. She had to know what kind of person Yuuji was hanging out with in his free time.
Ozawa very kindly requested a seat in the back, to the right. It was the booth in the sight of her mystery man, but also behind Yuuji, so her cover wouldn’t be blown (at least not yet!), and the backs of the seats were high enough that if he turned around, he wouldn’t see her. When she sat down, she got a glimpse of the man’s eyes, and noticed that he had a handsome face.
In fact, he was quite pretty. Not Ozawa’s type, but definitely conventionally attractive; she could see the girls at her school going crazy over him for sure. She preferred her boys to be a little more boyish.
“God, what’s taking them so long? I want my parfait now.”
And a little sweeter, too.
Did Yuuji get involved with someone dangerous? Where was he living, anyways? His grandfather died, right? Didn’t he have no family? Was he living with this man? Did Yuuji have to put up with this on a day-to-day basis? She hoped he was okay. Where had he gotten those scars?
“Come on, come on, Gojo-sensei.” Gojo! So that’s his name. “Sometimes it’s best to take some time after a mission to just relax and take things in.”
Mission? Yuuji did mention that he went to some kind of ‘special’ school, so maybe it was related to that. Did he have some sort of class project? This wasn’t his teacher, was it? That sounded like something out of her daydreams, not like real life. She was probably just reading into things that weren’t there.
Ozawa was taken out of her daydream when the waitress asked for her order, and in a faked, scruffy voice, she got a latte of some sort. It didn’t really matter, that wasn’t her main objective here, anyways. She got a bit distracted, and when the waitress sat her drink down, she burned her tongue on the hot coffee.
“Hey!” Yuuji shouted from behind her, obviously startled by something. “Don’t do that in public,” he said, hushed now.
Do what in public?
“What? I was just getting a bit of cream off your face. It’s not like I’m just making out with you willy-nilly in front of everyone,” Gojo joked. His laugh felt condescending, somehow. “I could, though. I don’t think anyone would stop me.”
Beads of sweat started to roll down Ozawa’s spine. Who was this Gojo guy, exactly? Yuuji’s sensei? Clearly not, with statements like that. Making out? Was she missing something? Was there some other way to interpret that? Make-up artist? She didn’t know. There was literally no other way to interpret this.
Was Yuuji in danger? Did she need to help him? She’d do it. She’d help Yuuji if he needed it. She knew he was too kind at times. She knew he let people walk over him sometimes, what he was like. (Unfortunately, that was the part of him she liked.)
Instead, Yuuji just laughed. He laughed with that warm smile of his—Without seeing, Ozawa just knew it. She had that smile forever cauterized on the inside of her brain.
“Who could stop you? We can do it later, anyways.”
Later!? Making out? Making out as in kissing? That’s what they were doing? Yuuji was okay with it? Yuuji wanted it.
For a brief moment, Ozawa thought about Yuuji’s lips on Gojo’s, and her face went so red, she dropped her spoon and forcibly fought back a scream. She could imagine it so easily. How far would they go? Who was the uke and who was the seme? Did they switch? People from the table across her stared just a bit. Panicking, she wiped away the splatter and waved to the other guests to tell them she was fine. Stop imagining things like this outside of characters! Now embarrassed, Ozawa quickly chugged the rest of her latte, the hot coffee burning slightly down her throat. Whatever. It didn’t burn as much as her ears did right now. How scandalous, if they really were teacher and student. They certainly suited each other…Well! Nothing was confirmed, she should just get out of her head. Maybe they were just joking around and getting a bite together.
Trying to distract herself, she flicked out her phone, noticing a bunch of messages from one of her friends at school. They were trying to set up a time to hang out later, asking about the books that she had bought this morning and of course she was excited to share. They had expected her to be home by now, so they clamored for some photos. Completely lost in trying to hash out the details to just show them in person, Ozawa didn’t even notice as the tables next to her swapped with completely new people.
Carefully, she took a peek behind her to see how the two were doing, and she saw them putting their coats back on, just about to leave. Gojo’s sunglasses rode down his nose, and he made direct eye-contact with her. She didn’t realize what was happening until he smiled, those blisteringly blue irises dead-locked on her face.
Ozawa pulled her body back behind the booth, her adrenaline spiking up once again, as if it had never left. She waited a bit for them to get up and head to the front, and then she quickly put some money on the table, grabbed her belongings, and rushed to catch up. She really hoped not to lose them before she had a chance to learn more.
After this, they went to an arcade. Then a sweets shop, then a clothing store, then a—It was a full day out, that was for certain. Honestly, by this point, Ozawa was beat. She had gotten up early today for the book sale, and now she’d been dragged around town by Yuuji and god knows who.
Honestly, she didn’t know what to make of him. He was selfish, he was childish, he liked to ramble about technical things that she didn’t understand. Of course, she knew it wasn’t her place to get nosy into Yuuji’s personal life, but she really cared about him.
She knew Yuuji was capable of handling himself, but more than that was if Yuuji truly reciprocated his feelings. She couldn’t get close enough to actually be able to tell, because she couldn’t bear Yuuji knowing that she had tailed them all this way but—She had to know. She had to know if Yuuji loved him. That was the one thing she hadn’t been convinced of just yet.
Maybe it was time. Maybe she should just reveal herself and get this done with. Maybe if she was a stronger person, she would have done that from the start. Maybe she would have introduced herself to Gojo, and thoroughly questioned him, as if that was her place. It wasn’t busy here, it was just them going down this side road. Taking a deep breath, Ozawa clutched her bag close to her side, and started to shout, running to catch up to them. It wouldn’t be too late, she could still do the right th—
That was when the back of her heel caught the sidewalk, and she plummeted down into the street. She made eye-contact with Yuuji as she fell, seeing those golden ambers brighten up with surprise.
A hand clasped around her wrist, and there wasn’t much aside from the sound of her bag hitting the pavement.
“Are you okay?” Gojo asked, holding her there in the air. She looked up at him, and he seemed curious more than anything. She looked down at her books, scattered across the sidewalk. He didn’t have to catch her. It was a nice gesture.
“Ozawa!” Yuuji shouted, running over to her, and pulling her up. “Wow, imagine seeing you here! How are you?”
“I’m doing—”
Oh god, Gojo was picking up her books. No, no, no! Ozawa broke free from Yuuji’s grasp, rushing over and trying to grab them all before either of them could get a good look. Some of the covers made it obvious what she had been buying, and your former crush finding out that you were carrying around r18 BL doujins after you had been stalking him all day was a bad, bad look.
She desperately reached out to take one out of Gojo’s hand, but using his height to his advantage, he kept it out of her reach. He flicked open one of the pages, and eyed a boy that looked just like Yuuji. Then, he cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking. “Oh, I get it.”
Ozawa was petrified.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she shouted out, desperately.
“Sorry for what?” Yuuji asked, handing her bag back to her. Her face singed red, she snatched it from him as gracefully as she could (which admittedly, wasn’t much), and shoved every book she had currently right back in. Yuuji then looked around at her body, wiping off a bit of dirt that had gotten on her fleece sweater. “You okay? Looks like you didn’t get hurt!”
“I’m—I’m fine,” Ozawa stammered out, gaping at him awkwardly. God, a part of her would never move on from him, she knew that. Was she just mistaken about all this? So what if they were dating? What if Yuuji loved him back? What if there was nothing wrong with this, what if she had just been reading into this the whole time?
It was at this point that Gojo moved behind Yuuji, and he wrapped his arm around him, pulling him nice and close. Yuuji looked up at him, but it didn’t appear to be a look of concern, he just seemed curious.
“Sorry honey, this one’s taken,” he said, his smile as thin as the blade of a knife.
Yuuji jumped with a squeak, before smacking him not so lightly on the arm. Did he just squeeze his ass?
Using his free hand, he passed her back her last doujin. “Here’s your porn.”
Ozawa was horrified.
“I-I—It’s not porn!” she shouted, maybe just a little too loudly. Quickly, she covered her face, trying to mitigate any remaining damage.
Yuuji then took the book from Gojo and flipped through it. He seemed a little shocked from what he saw, but he had a smile on his face. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of stuff, Ozawa!”
“It’s-It’s just a hobby of mine. My favorite artist put out a new volume today, so I went to get it along with a couple other books of theirs and I…ended up buying too much. And a couple of art supplies, too…”
“Oh, you draw?” Yuuji asked, completely earnestly. Ozawa could drown in those eyes. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”
“Well, I’m just learning,” she tried to defend.
“You always had such delicate and precise penmanship. It doesn’t surprise me one bit! I really admire people who are passionate like you. Keep it up!”
Gojo looked down at him, finally relaxing his grip. “Oh, so she’s a former classmate of yours. Why didn’t you say so? I’m Gojo Satoru, I’m Yuuji’s teach—”
Interrupting him, Yuuji promptly grabbed Gojo’s hand. Even Gojo seemed to be surprised at this sudden show of bluntness. Ozawa just knew by the way he looked at him. “This is Gojo Satoru, he’s my boyfriend.”
This was love.
Gojo stood there for a moment, looking dumbfounded. It was as if he’d never heard those words before, as if he had never heard that statement come out of Yuuji’s mouth. They were cute. That was all that Ozawa could think.
Ozawa’s heart trembled, but mostly, it was a warm, good feeling. She nodded, smiling back at his introduction. “Ozawa Yuko. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”