Amnesiac - Satoru Gojo X Reader

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"Itadakimasu," Gojo claps his hands together at the platter in front of us, I copy him and pick up my chopsticks, breaking them. Gojo scroops some rice and breaks up some of the chicken tempura, putting it into his bowl. He adds a sample from each of the side dishes. I fill my bowl with some of everything. I'm eager to have a true meal and not hospital food. 

Gojo sits patiently, his head tilting towards the window ever so slightly, and I assume he's looking out the window next to us out at the city street. I bring some chicken up to my mouth and admire the initial crunch of the breading in addition to the pleasant flavor. I smile down at my bowl and fight the urge to scarf this all down. I barely glance up, noticing Gojo enjoying his bowl with a gentle smile.

"This is delicious, thank you, Gojo-san." I praise him while smiling across the table at him.

He smiles back, "You introduced me to this restaurant."

I tilt my head slightly and place down my chopsticks, "I did? Well, I have good taste!"

He picks up a pickled radish and tosses it into his bowl, "I thought it might jog a memory or two?"

"Or two? So we hang out often, then?" I ask, while taking a sip from the tea Gojo was adamant I needed to have. It was refreshing yet slightly bitter with a rather sweet aftertaste.

He smiles before leaning back and hooking an arm on the back of the chair, "We do everything together."

"Really?" I can't help but feel suspicious of these claims.

"Of course!" He leans forward, his arm still linked with the chair. His voice is teasing and sarcastic, "We're super good friends."

I smirk and cross my arms, "I get the feeling you're lying."

He unhooks his arm from the chair and holds it over his heart, "You wound me so (Y/n)-chan."

I chuckle at his antics, and he sits up straight before folding his hands together around his teacup and smiling, "To be honest, I don't believe you've ever been the biggest fan of mine."

"I never would have guessed," my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He laughs and holds his cup with his left hand while propping his chin up with his right, "I'm immature, and insufferable, or at least I think those are the words you used." He smirks and looks over the rim of his sunglasses, his voice dips down ever so slightly, and he speaks slower, "But I don't think you ever meant it."

"I don't know," I raise my eyebrows, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of my lips, and pick up the chopsticks I set down, "maybe I did."

He chuckles and drinks some of his tea. I pick up my bowl and return to eating from it. We sit in comfortable silence for a moment before he asks, his voice more sincere than expected, "How are you holding up, I can only imagine how overwhelming this is."

I hum, setting down my bowl before folding my hand into my lap, "It certainly is overwhelming," I turn my head to look out the window at the city street, "I have what feels like millions of questions that seem beyond impossible to answer. I mean, I don't even know myself anymore, you know?"

"I'm somewhat of a genius, I bet I have at least a few answers if you wanna ask me," his voice indicates he's smiling.

I pause thinking over where to even start, "Okay, well, you said I've never liked you, so I guess, what are we?" I stumble over my words and face him with oddly intimate questions.

"All it takes is one lunch date. I gotta say, that's a little fast even for me," the white-haired man in front of me jokes with a teasing smile. 

"That's -" I sigh, "That's not what I meant."