I give myself two seconds to stand there at the front of the lecture hall in absolute humiliation before I lift my chin and scope out the room for somewhere to sit.
My shoes make the most horrific squelching noise as I walk and I meet the eyes of a few people who are staring at me with their mouths wide open. I hear someone say "yikes" under their breath when I walk past.
Of course, the only open seats are the ones at the front of the room. Just perfect.
The professor has begun to speak again and I silently thank him for it.
I slump into a seat in the front row and the girl next to me subtly shifts away from me. I mean, come on, hasn't anyone ever seen a little water and mud before?
Truthfully, my mood is darker than the storm clouds outside. Mostly because of Sukuna, obviously, but also because of the dipshit who picked me up. The only dipshit I'd ever trust to pick me up, actually.
The thing about my drug addict older brother is that he's surprisingly reliable. I know he feels indebted to me because I've let him crash with me more times than I can count, maybe that's why he always picks up when I call. Maybe it's the cash that I shove into his hand every time he leaves me again. Or, maybe it's the face I make when I give it to him, silently begging him to use it for necessities, not drugs. I think he knows that he owes me a lot for putting me through all his shit.
But also, I'm his little sister. He's fucked up his own life, but he still cares about mine. He screamed at me the whole way back to campus about how irresponsible I am for getting in the car with Sukuna, for ever being with Sukuna, for not telling him I'd be seeing Sukuna again. Gosh, I got an earful.
By the time he dropped me off outside of my hall, I was so pissed that I didn't accept the dry, warm sweatshirt he offered me. He cursed at me, I slammed the door, and he sped off.
I silently seethe at the whole world as I yank my (thankfully waterproof) backpack open, and grab my laptop. I pull up my university's site and find the link to the class's syllabus that we're currently going over. I skim over it, the things I missed.
Seems like it'll be a pretty basic English literature class.
I mean, it is objectively a pretty basic English literature class because it's one of the general education courses that we need to graduate. I have no doubt that most of the people in this class are freshmen. Ugh.
I'm not sure why I put off this class for so long exactly. I want to say it's because I got so caught up in the coursework for my major that I just happened to forget about it until senior year, but I know that's not really the case. I think that deep down, I wanted to take a class senior year that I truly loved. I was saving this course because I knew I would end up enjoying it. And it'd be an easy A, of course.
I have always been obsessed with literature and reading. I feel like I've been able to experience all sorts of lives through the books I read and I cling to that feeling with everything I've got. Even my asshole brother gets me a book for my birthday every year.
I scroll through the syllabus and down to the required book list. A smile pulls at my lips. Lots of classics. Books I've already read before. Books that I've been wanting to read.
I'm typing some of the titles into Amazon, checking out prices and not even listening to the professor, when I feel someone looking at me. An odd chill runs down my neck and I shiver. Then again, maybe that's because I'm still freezing to the bone.
Looking up, I make eye contact with the TA, who's sitting, well lounging, in a chair to the right of the professor, directly in front of me. His appearance gives me a pause.
It's...interesting.
His hair is white. Straight up white, not blonde. The strangest thing is that it doesn't even look bleached, it looks natural. Maybe he has albinism?
The color of his hair suits him though. It compliments his fair skin and absolutely electrifies his bright blue eyes. Wow, his eyes are a bit scary. They seem bottomless and somehow omniscient, like he knows something the rest of us don't. We stare at each other as he sits there, leaned back in his chair, tapping his black pen lightly on his (of course) frustratingly straight and stunningly white teeth. Gosh, somehow they suit him too. He raises an eyebrow at me, amusement dancing in those unsettling eyes, and I look away.
He's probably having a hayday with my outfit right now. Man, fuck him too.
I huff and go back to perusing around online for my books.
Class ends anticlimactically, or as soon as the professor finishes reading the syllabus. I mean, all the better for me since the mud on my knees has dried and is beginning to crack off and fall on the ground with each movement I make.
Why did I not at least rub some of this off in my brother's car? I wonder to myself. Well, maybe because he was screaming at me and drives more than a handful miles per hour over the limit. It felt like a quick drive.
I stand up with the rest of the class, slinging my damp bag over my shoulder, ready to get back to my apartment. Only one more class this aftenoo--
"Miss? You there with the.......white shirt and black jeans?"
I swing around, recognizing the professor as the one who's talking to me. I walk up to his desk, where he's hurriedly shoving things into a messenger bag. Kind of a frazzled type of guy.
"Yeah?" I ask, seeing White Hair staring at me out of the corner of my eye, still lounging comfortably.
"Could you please talk to our TA, Gojo Satoru, for a second? You came in quite late" disapproving look "and I want to make sure you didn't miss anything important. I have a meeting that I need to get to, but Gojo will fill you in on everything you missed."
"Oh, it's really okay! I read through the beginning of the syllabus already, I think I should be good--"
"Nonsense! Gojo will be happy to help! You need to tell him your name as well, for attendance purposes," the professor says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"I mean, why don't I just tell you my name real quick and save us all some time--"
"Gojo. He'll be happy to help you. I have to leave, I'm already late..." With that, my professor practically runs out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.
"Great," I mutter under my breath, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder and turning to face "Gojo".
He just studies me for a second, taking a long look at the state I'm in. My hair is tangled, my white shirt, I'm sure, is somewhat see-through, and I'm leaving a trail of crumbly mud wherever I walk.
"Hi. My name is Y/n. I read the syllabus already. Is it cool if I just go?" I ask. He looks back up at my eyes and damn, the eye contact is intense. I want to look away. I raise my chin and stare right at him.
"Cute. I'll let you go if you tell me what happened to you," he stands, stretching his arms behind his head languidly and groaning in reaction. I swallow. He's so much taller than Sukuna.
"That's not--Why? Does it matter? Just laugh at me and let me go clean myself off. Obviously, I haven't had a chance to yet," I spit. Well, my temper is still there. I should probably bite my tongue.
"I'm not trying to insult you, I'm curious. I should actually thank you. I almost fell asleep and your little entrance woke me right up. I'd look like a shit TA if I fell asleep on the first day," he laughs conspiratorially, the sound deep and rich. It makes my lip curl.
"Oh, I'm so glad. Can I go now?" I deadpan. Why won't this guy just let me leave? Gosh, I really need to go process this morning in peace.
"What happened?" He asks again. His eyes flick up and down my body again. There's something calculating in those eyes.
I stay silent for a moment, weighing my options. I don't really give a shit about this Gojo guy, but I can't necessarily make him hate me because he'll probably be the one grading my assignments this semester. I need good grades.
"I was running from my ex," I say, enjoying the way his eyes widen slightly, the only show of his surprise.
"You mean...literally running from him?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.
"Yeah."
"Is he here now?" Gojo asks. I see his eyes flick briefly to the door at the back of the room.
"I don't know where he is," I reply, crossing my arms. I'm getting bored of this interrogation.
"Do you need...help?" He asks, finally acting a little bit serious.
Oh, he thinks that I'm in trouble. It's almost laughable, but I guess it does look that way. I'm so used to bad situations, I almost have a hard time recognizing them as such now.
I manage to keep a straight face. I might act like a bitch sometimes, but it's nice of him to offer help and I'm not going to laugh in his face for it.
"No, no, it's all good. It looks worse than it is," I tell Gojo, gesturing down at myself. "Really though, I should get going."
He takes a step closer and I raise my eyebrows at him. He sticks his hand out to me.
"I'm Gojo Satoru. Second-year graduate student. Studying literature. Sorry you thought I was making fun of you, I promise I wasn't." He shakes his hand a little and I roll my eyes and grasp it with my own. It completely envelops mine.
"I'm Y/n, like I said. Fourth year undergrad student. Studying business management. I don't care if you were making fun of me, it doesn't bother me." I say, looking up at him, my hand still in his.
There's a small smile on his lips as he nods.
"Cool, cool. Well, you're free to go. I'll mark your name down and I'll see you in class on Wednesday," he drops my hand and walks over to the desk to make a note of my attendance.
I book it to the door, finally free.
~~~~~~~~~~
I don't make it too far.
When I get to the front doors of building, I see that the pouring rain has now been joined with black clouds and frequent flashes of lightening and claps of thunder.
Fuck.
I swing my bag around and open it, praying that I somehow have an umbrella inside.
I'm not all that surprised to realize that I don't.
"Shit, shit, shit," I mutter to myself, squinting at the storm outside. I could probably make it if I ran or walked really fast. It's about a twenty minute walk back home. I could get it down to fifteen minutes today, maybe.
I'm already covered in mud anyways.
In the end though, I decide to give it another ten minutes. I can't quite work myself up enough to go out there right now. I'm tired. I'm hoping that the rain slows down a little.
Finding an empty bench next to the door, I plop down and pull out my phone. There are fifty-seven missed calls, one hundred and twelve missed text messages, and four missed facetime calls from Sukuna. Man...
I block his contact.
He'll show up to my apartment at some point if he's not there already. I don't need to deal with him right now.
I press my head to the wall behind me and close my eyes, letting out a big breath. I already feel so tired. Not the type of tired that comes from a lack of sleep, but rather the type of tired that comes from constant stress.
"Y/n?"
I'm not sure how much time has passed by the time I open my eyes again, but I open them to see Gojo and those long, long legs standing in front of me, coffee tumbler in hand.
"I'm almost offended that you wanted to get away from me so badly just so you could take a nap right here in the same hallway."
I rub a hand over my eyes, trying to orient myself.
"How long has it been since class?" I ask, my voice a little hoarse.
"It's been thirty minutes since I talked to you," he says.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, getting up to look out the window. The storm is still going crazy. It hasn't slowed down at all. "Fuck."
"All good?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I just don't have an umbrella and," I gesture outside. "I guess it's going to be a shower au naturel today."
Gojo checks his watch, a black, sleek thing. Expensive looking. He looks back down to me and I shift on the bench. Suddenly, the embarrassment of my appearance and my first class and everything else hits me. He probably thinks I'm so stupid. It's also embarrassing that I'm even thinking about what he thinks.
"I have a little time before my next class. Technically, I'm on lunch break right now. Do you want me to drive you to wherever you're headed?" He asks me, completely sincere. Just by looking at him, I can tell that he's the type of guy to joke around a lot. But he's not joking right now.
Not liking the panicky, uneasy feeling growing in me, I shake my head. I throw my bag over my shoulder and stand.
"No, no, don't worry about it. I'm fine. It, uh, probably won't be so bad," I say just as a huge boom of thunder shakes the building.
Bad timing, nature. Bad timing.
He looks at me incredulously. "Why not? I'm headed out anyways to grab something for lunch. Just tell me where you're headed and I'll drop you off real quick. Campus isn't big, it will just take a second."
"Why do you even care?" It comes out sort of like a laugh, sort of like a scoff.
He laughs too, but it's just as humorless.
"I'm not trying to be weird. You've clearly had a shit day and I don't want to watch you head out into a thunderstorm without any protection. Especially when I'm going to my car anyways."
I look at his coffee tumbler and lack of rain coat pointedly. "You're heading out there like that?"
He huffs out another laugh, but this one lights up his face, blue eyes bright. "No, I'm not like you, I actually do prepare for the weather. I've just got to grab a few things from my office. Stay here, I'll be right back."
With that, he turns and heads back down the hallways, not giving me an opportunity to say no. Damn he has some long strides. Damn he has some long legs. Damn.
I know I still could leave right now, before he comes back. I could brave the storm, save myself from the humility of having my TA drive me home. I could do it.
I don't.
I stay right here like he told me to.
He's back in less than two minutes. He doesn't have the coffee tumbler now, but he has a raincoat and umbrella in hand. He holds the coat out to me.
"Here, put this on," Gojo tells me.
I take the coat, studying it's a dark navy color. When I don't put it on immediately he raises his eyebrows at me.
"I'm...covered in mud," I say, sheepishly. "I don't want to ruin your coat."
"It's fine, just put in on. I don't care," he assures me, walking to the door and holding it open for me.
I shrug the coat on as I walk through the door. It's soft, smells clean and a little citrusy. Mmmm.
We walk in silence to a white SUV sitting in the parking lot around the back of the building as the storm whips around us. Well, the rain is so loud that Gojo could have said something and I wouldn't have even heard him.
Slipping into the passenger seat as Gojo slides into the driver's, I wrap my arms around myself. The coat kept my body dry from the rain, but I'm getting a little PTSD from earlier. My bones are still chilled.
"Where are we headed?" He asks, cranking up the heat and turning on some indie radio station.
I tell him my address and we're on our way.
I can feel him glancing at me as he drives, but neither of us say anything. I don't know what to say anyways. I don't even know the guy. Instead, I watch the students outside hurriedly running to class or home or wherever.
I wave of gratitude for this ride hits me.
"Thank you for driving me," I say, quietly.
"I told you, it's no problem," he says, in a joking voice that is underlined with true sincerity.
"Is this it?" Gojo asks after a few more minutes, pulling into the lot of my somewhat shitty somewhat underwhelming apartment complex. I cringe.
"Yeah, don't be jealous," I say sarcastically, grabbing my bag as he expertly backs into spot and kills the engine.
"No, no, I am jealous," he says, laughing. "The...architecture...is beautiful. Very avant garde."
The building was built half a century ago. It's safe to say he's lying.
"Well, thank you again for the ride. Truly appreciate it. I guess I'll see you in class in a few days?" I say the last part hesitantly. I keep forgetting he's my TA.
"Yeah, see you then, Y/n. Enjoy the rest of your day," he gives me a little wave as I pull my hood up and step out of the car.
Of course, it's only drizzling outside now. I sigh as I make my way to the front door of the building. I think I'm just going to sleep the day away. Already, my mind is tapping out and so I'm rewarding myself respite. I can't wait to just curl up in my bed—
"Hey! Y/n!"
Fuck.
I turn, and there he is.
Sukuna.