Chapter Text
The bell above the door jingled like a death knell.
Yuji palms were so damp he was afraid his phone would slide right out of his grip. On the screen, the instructions glared back:
Satoro hayashi .Art Gallery Owner, Grey hoodie. 7 PM. Make it clean. $10,000. What the heck, no mention of physical appearance at all. Even a idea of this person's height would be enough but no , nothing. Great. Find a guy with a grey hoodie and pale hair Apparently.
Clean. Right. He was a broke bio-chem major, not a cleaner. This was a terrible idea. But tuition was due yesterday, and his last “good” job, dog walking for a lady who paid in expired food had literally gone to the dogs. So when he saw the ad on some Shaddy looking web, he didn’t hesitate. It seemed easy: take the guy to a stipulated address, get the money, and boom. Yuji won't have to worry about money for next few weeks... Or months if he is careful with it.
So here he was, armed with a water gun in his pocket, a black belt in taekwondo he’d never once used in a real fight, and about three liters of sweat he kept trying to discreetly wipe on his jeans.
He scanned the store which faintly smelled of expensive paper and paint.
And there, by the display of Prussian Blue watercolors, was a man in a soft grey hoodie and black sweats, his back to yuji. He was holding a set of sable brushes like they were made of glass.
That’s him. That’s the guy. Pale hair and grey hoodie, yep definitely has to be satoro hayashi.
Yuji’s heart tried to climb out of his throat. He rehearsed the line he’d been practicing in the mirror: “Come with me. Don’t make a sound.” It had sounded cooler in his bathroom.
He strode over, tapped the man on the shoulder, pushing the water gun against the inside of his pocket for more realism. The man turned.
Oh.
Oh, no.
The description of this man he’d been sent was grainy, of some weaselly-looking guy. This man was… not weaselly. He was all sharp angles and a relaxed posture. And his eyes... ...the most stunning blue eyes are currently blinking in mild curiosity. Soft white hair framing his face perfectly.He was beautiful in a way that felt illegal, like a museum artifact you weren’t allowed to touch.
“Uh,” yuji intelligently began. Trying not to shift awkwardly “ satoro hayashi?”
Satoru gojo’s gaze flickered from yuji's panicked face to the door, where, unbeknownst to satoru, a lean figure in an identical grey hoodie was just exiting, looking at his watch. Then back to the sweaty boy trying to scare him with what was clearly not a real gun pressing through cheap denim.
Interesting, satoru thought, the gears turning silently behind his calm expression. The other syndicate sent this? A puppy with a water pistol? No… he doesn’t move like he knows who I am. And he said satoro hayashi. A slow, intrigued smile spread across his face. It was a private sort of smile, one that didn’t quite reach the cool assessment in his eyes.
“Depends who’s asking,” he said, voice a low, smooth rumble. He didn’t sound scared. He sounded… amused.
“I need you to come with me,” yuji blurted, abandoning his cool line. “Please,” he added, voice dipping into desperation. “Or—I will. Do something?, damn it that comes out as a question rather than a warning. Shit, he is already messing this up,Yuji thought to himself .
The man, satoru looked him up and down. Took in the second-hand jeans, the worn sneakers, the sheer, vibrating aura of “I have never done a crime before.” He tilted his head, a spark of genuine curiosity lighting inside him. Wanting to know more about this puppy..
He’s trying so hard. It’s almost cute. And those eyes… wide like a deer who’s about to be the one hitting the car.
“You’re not very good at this, are you?” satoru asked, almost too kindly.
Yuji’s confidence, already on life support, flatlined. “I’m trying my best,” he muttered, defeated.
Satoru’s smile turned real, transforming his face. It was dazzling, unexpectedly bright. Handsome. Completely, hopelessly handsome and hot. And strangely refreshing.
“You know what? Sure. Let’s go.” He carefully placed the brushes back on the shelf. “But you’re paying for my art supplies if we make it out alive. This was a very important errand you’ve interrupted.”
Yuji's eyes widen more if possible, is this guy for real. He can barely feed himself let alone someone else. Stunned, yuji just nodded. This was going… weirdly well?, well the guy didn't have to know yuji is a broke college student. They won't be meeting again anyway.
Satoru patted his shoulder as he passed,looking excited for someone who is being kidnapped.heading for the door. “Come on, kid. Your getaway car isn’t going to drive itself.” He teasing him. paused, glancing back. “…You do have a getaway car, right?”
Oh shit.
No, no, no how had he not thought about that?
"Euh… actually…" Yuji’s face fell, the picture of dawning horror.
The man rolled his eyes, pure exasperation written all over his face. " Are you for real, this is how your gonna become a Kidnapper. "
Yuji was going to cry. Literally. The flush of shame climbed his neck as his grand criminal plan unraveled at the second step.
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. Satoru watched the boy’s eyes grow suspiciously shiny and felt a strange, protective pang he hadn’t felt in years. He’s going to get himself killed before sunset if I leave him here. With a long-suffering sigh that was more theatrical than genuine, satoru fished his keys from his pocket and tossed them in a smooth arc toward the cutie.
“We’ll take mine,” he said, the authority in his voice leaving no room for argument. “The black Genesis G80 out front. And try not to crash it. I just had it detailed.”
He strode past a utterly baffled yuji. Care freely leading the way with the light steps out of the store as if he were the one in charge of this doomed operation. Well, satoru mused, a new, playful energy humming under his skin, this is certainly more fun than another board meeting. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure it out.satoru chuckle to himself, he knows the boy is following after him without having to look back. God this kid is interesting, and satoru likes interesting things.
ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ
Satoru’s Genesis was sleek and looked like it cost more than yuji’s entire life savings, student debt included. It beeped cheerfully as yuji fumbled with the key fob.
“Get in,” satoru said with that carefree tone, isn't the guy worried for his car. Any other man would have been.but again yuji thinks this guy isn't like any other man. Gut feeling.sliding gracefully into the passenger seat as if he were being chauffeured. “And for the love of everything holy, check your mirrors.”
Yuji’s hands were clammy on the butter-soft leather steering wheel. He’d only ever driven his brothers beaten-up Hyundai. This felt like piloting a spaceship.
The engine purred to life.
“Okay,” yuji whispered to himself. “You can do this. It’s just kidnapping.” yuji hears a quiet snicker from his side but ignore it.
He lurched out of the parking spot, the tires screeching in protest.
From the corner of his eye, he saw satoru’s hand fly out to brace against the dashboard. “Easy, tiger. The goal is to leave with the car.”
“Sorry,” yuji mumbled, his knuckles white.feeling his cheeks grew hot again.
The drive through Tokyo’s evening traffic was a special kind of torture for both of them. Yuji rode the brakes like they were a rodeo bull. He jerked at every yellow light, swerved nervously around scooters, and once nearly side-swiped a delivery bike because he was too busy checking if his “hostage” was plotting an escape.
Satoru winced when the seatbelt digs into his Abdomen, wow the kid is even worst the shoko when he try to teach her driving and that alone says something
Finally, after a particularly aggressive gear shift that made the whole car shudder, satoru tap yuji's hands that are gripping the steering wheel, knuckles nearly white. Satoru decided to have mercy on him.
“Pull over.”
“W-What?”
“Pull over Now. Before you decimate my suspension and my will to live.” satoru said calmly.
Flushing crimson, yuji swerved toward the curb, earning a furious honk from a taxi. He threw the car into park and slumped in the seat, defeated. “I’m sorry. I’m really not a bad driver, I’m just… stressed.”
“Stressed,” satoru repeated amused. He unclipped his seatbelt. “Switch. I’m driving.”
“You can’t drive! You’re the… you know.” yuji gestured vaguely. “The… captive.”
Satoru leveled him with a look that was both exhausted and deeply amused. “Sweetheart, at this rate, the only thing you’re going to capture is a traffic violation and a lawsuit from my insurance company.” He opened his door. “Come on. Out. And don’t forget your… weapon.” He nodded toward yuji’s pocket with the water gun, a smirk playing on his lips.
Yuji scrambled out, the night air doing little to cool his humiliation. They switched places. As satoru settled into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors with efficient flicks of his wrist, he glanced over.
“Besides,” he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial, playful tone. “Aren’t you supposed to keep me at gunpoint? You can do that just as easily from over there. Probably more effectively, since you won’t be sending us both through the windshield.”
He had a point. A stupid, logical, infuriating point. Yuji slumped into the passenger seat, pulling the water gun from his pocket and holding it awkwardly in his lap. It felt even sillier now.
Satoru merged back into traffic with a smooth, confident ease that made the car feel like it was gliding. The tense silence stretched for a block before he broke it, his eyes on the road.
“So. A kidnapper with a conscience and terrible driving skills. What’s your day job? Or is this it?” His tone was light, curious, not at all accusatory.
“I’m a student,” yuji muttered, staring out the window. “Bio-chem.”
“Ah. Explains the nerves. More comfortable with petri dishes than people, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Another few blocks of comfortable quiet. Then, satoru reached over and tapped the car’s impressive touchscreen. A soft, melodic voice filled the cabin… clear, heartfelt, and instantly recognizable.
“You and I, in the memories that are fading…”
Yuji’s head snapped toward the stereo. “Is this… “Through the Night”?” excitement shining in his eyes.
Satoru glanced at him, a genuine surprise lifting his brow. “You know it?”
“Know it? It’s IU! Of course I know it!” The words burst out of him, fueled by a lifetime of fervent fandom. “This is from the Palette album! The vocal control in the second verse is literally insane, she uses this really subtle breath technique that—” He caught himself, clamping his mouth shut. He was gushing about vocal range to his kidnapping victim. Get it together, itadori ' yuji scolded himself mentally.
But satoru was smiling a real, warm, crinkle-eyed smile. “You’re a fan.”
“The biggest,” yuji admitted, nodding his head , shoulders relaxing a fraction. “I’ve been to three concerts. I have all her limited edition vinyls. Well… the ones I could afford.” yuji finished sheepishly at last , looking away.
Interesting, satoru thought, stealing a longer look at the boy now animated with passion. Eyes bright, hands gesturing, the fear completely forgotten. He’s cute when he’s not terrified.
“ she has a sweet voice ” satoru said softly, turning his attention back to the road. “It heals something. I listen when… when things get too messy. I wasn't much of the fan of music before, I guess time really changes people sometimes. "Satoru said honestly, he really doesn't know why he share that with this boy. Sure satoru finds the boy interesting and cute .. But he never felt comfortable enough to talk about himself to someone.
The admission was quiet, vulnerable in a way that didn’t fit the man in the expensive car, the man who should be fearing for his life. It made yuji’s brain short-circuit again. Why was this guy so calm? So… normal? He was discussing IU’s discography while being kidnapped!
“Why aren’t you scared?” The question fell from yuji’s lips before he could stop it.
Satoru was silent for a moment, the city lights washing over his sharp profile. “Maybe I am,” he said finally, his voice a low murmur. “Maybe this is just how I deal with it. Or maybe…” He let the sentence hang, a mysterious smile touching his lips as he glanced at the water gun in yuji's lap. “…Maybe I just have a good feeling about this.”
He increased the volume just a little, IU’s voice wrapping around them in the dark cabin of the car. Yuji leaned back in his seat, the weapon forgotten in his hand, utterly and completely confused. He was being driven to his own house by his own hostage, who was apparently a fellow Uaena.
The song faded into the next, the easy silence now filled with a comfortable hum. They’d cycled through three of IU’s ballads, satoru's soft humming, he wasn't much fan of singing but he likes humming to songs. softly on the choruses, yuji eventually joining in after a while.his voice filling the space with a surprising, sweet clarity. For twenty minutes, the Genesis was less a getaway car and more a moving karaoke booth.
As the final chords of “Friday” ended, satoru smoothly lowered the volume. He glanced over at yuji, who was now slightly slumped in the seat, looking more like a friend on a late-night drive than a criminal mastermind.
“You have a decent voice, kid,” satoru remarked, a note of approval in his tone.
Yuji blinked, as if suddenly remembering the entire situation. “Oh. Thanks. I, uh… used to sing a lot with my friends "
“Makes sense.” satoru nodded, then let the quiet stretch for a beat. The city lights began to thin out, turning from the bright neon of downtown to the dimmer, residential glow of the neighborhoods. He cleared his throat lightly.
So,” he said, his tone shifting back to that blend of amusement. “As delightful as this drive has been… you never actually told me where we’re going.”
Yuji froze.
Shit.
In the whirlwind of terrible driving, switching seats, and impromptu IU appreciation, he had completely, utterly forgotten to give directions.
“It’s, um.” He sat up straight, fumbling for his phone. The address was buried in the same thread as the job listing. “It’s in… Mapo-gu. Near the university. I’ll put it in the GPS.”
Satoru watched him scramble, a slow smile spreading. He forgot he was kidnapping me. I’m being kidnapped by a golden retriever with a water gun and the voice of an angel.
“Take your time,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “We’re in no rush. The night is young, and my art supplies aren’t going anywhere.”
Yuji finally got the navigation up, his cheeks pink. “It says… turn left at the next light.”
“Left it is,” satoru said, signaling smoothly. “Lead the way, little tiger" Yuji feels his ears turn red from the sudden Nick name.
As the automated voice began its instructions, satoru turned the music back up just a little and settled into the drive, a strange, warm feeling settling in his chest. This was, without question, the most interesting thing to happen to him in years
To be continue...