Old Beats | Gojo Satoru x Reader

Epilogue

September 2005

The track at Tokyo Metropolitan Magic Technical College was scorching. The sun had been beating down all afternoon, so if you put the palm of your hand on the surface, you'd likely get a burn. It was far from pleasant.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed as you fell to the ground again.

You quickly got up and dusted off your legs, wishing you were wearing long pants instead of the skirt that came with your new uniform, despite the heat. Besides the impact, every time you were knocked down, the asphalt burned your skin.

"Okay, start over," Yaga announced, supervising your practice fights.

Shoko resumed a defensive position, and you mimicked her, unsure of how to proceed. You had never fought before and were losing miserably.

A bit removed from the scene, the rest of the class was attentively watching what was happening on the track.

"Pathetic," whispered a white-haired boy, almost inaudibly, unable to take his eyes off the fight happening a few yards away.

But his new friend had heard him, and his eyes were fixed on him instead. They had just met the day before and, despite everything, had gotten along quite well. "Everything" being that Gojo Satoru made a terrible first impression.

Despite seeming conceited, arrogant, and practically narcissistic, Suguru Geto didn't think the guy was really that bad. He was just a bit lost. You'd think it was the first time he'd interacted with kids his age.

Geto had been watching him all afternoon, and a question had been on his mind for a while.

"Hey, do you like y/n?" he finally said.

Gojo turned to him as if he'd just slapped him.

"What?!" he exclaimed, grimacing. "What are you talking about?"

"It's just a question, calm down," the dark-haired boy excused himself, raising his hands as if Gojo was about to attack him.

The other boy snorted haughtily.

"You're wrong!" he declared, looking down his nose at him with a bored expression, which Geto thought seemed forced. "I would never be interested in someone like her."

Geto refrained from pointing out that Gojo hadn't taken his eyes off you all afternoon; they weren't close enough yet to tease each other. There would be time for that.

"I found her pleasant," he commented, in a peaceful tone. "I like her."

Now Gojo's reaction was even worse. He snorted even louder, and Geto watched him with a wrinkled nose, wondering what the hell had happened for you two to hate each other so much. You'd only been at the school for one day.

"What, do you like her?" Gojo said, grumpy.

Geto tilted his head, puzzled.

"Is that why you're asking?" the albino insisted. "You want to know if the coast is clear?"

Geto burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, nothing," Geto replied, wiping away a small tear at the corner of his eye. "You're very funny."

Gojo wasn't entirely convinced, but it made sense. He knew he was funny, although he usually realized it when he made a good joke.

September 2018

Thirteen Years Later

The track at Tokyo Metropolitan Magic Technical College is scorching hot.