Satoru has been pacing up and down the same hallway (y/n) left him in for the past fifteen minutes before Shoko dares to show her face. She stops him from going another round by standing right in his way, her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face.
"What did I tell you over and over again?" she says, and he finally looks at her. "You kept saying she wasn't good at what she's doing. Maybe you were just saying that even though you didn't mean it because you hated her, but every time she came back from a mission, I told you that she took care of all the curses in record time."
Satoru blinks once, twice. He knows this. He knows that weeks ago, even after their first mission together, where he had seen how good she was, he kept bitching to Shoko about (y/n) going on missions alone without him. Maybe, subconsciously, he knew that it wasn't about her lack of abilities but about her not needing him. Maybe he's always known that but didn't want to admit it to himself.
"To be honest, all I kept hearing was how hurt she was when she came back," he replies, and it feels weird to him to hear his voice. It sounds so... empty. God, what has he done? He pulls his sunglasses from his pocket and puts them on, glad to relieve at least one part of his body.
Shoko raises her eyebrows. "And you immediately assumed that's because she isn't capable?"
Satoru sighs and looks away. "I don't know what I was thinking." He sighs again. "Clearly."
Shaking her head with a little smile, Shoko looks up at him, and Satoru wishes that her brown eyes were (y/n)'s. He wishes he could speak to her right now. But maybe Shoko is exactly the right person to speak to. Maybe she can help him get her back.
"What exactly do you feel for her?" She asks the question that makes Satoru's heart beat faster.
He's still not looking back at her but down the empty hallway over her shoulder. What does he feel for (y/n)? It seems like an easy enough question. But what? Does? He? Feel? Suddenly, Satoru isn't aware of anything anymore. Why is it so hard for him to point a finger on this feeling inside of him?
"I don't know," he finally answers, and his eyes meet Shoko's. She raises her eyebrows in surprise, but this isn't what Satoru means. It's not that he doesn't have his feelings figured out. It's that he does, but he can't name them. "I don't know what it's called because I've never felt like this before."
Shoko's expression relaxes. "I'm a doctor. Explain to me what you're feeling, and maybe I can diagnose you."
He laughs, and it feels good to laugh, but then it dies away, and he thinks of all the things he feels. "When I'm with her, it feels like my heart is glowing. And when I'm not with her, everything hurts. I want to be with her all the time, and not just because she's the most beautiful person I've ever seen and can do things you wouldn't believe." He ignores the look on Shoko's face when he's saying this. "I mean because she makes me laugh, and she makes me feel safe, and she makes me everything I ever wanted to be. She doesn't like me because I'm the strongest, she likes me because I'm me. I can tell her everything, and I know she'll keep it forever. When she goes to the bathroom for just five minutes, I miss her. Shoko, I miss her."
Tears crept into his eyes, and he doesn't know what to do with them. Satoru doesn't like to cry. Tears used to be reserved for his best friend. But his best friend never made the promise to come back. He walked away from him, and he took all the color and happiness and laughter from Satoru's life. (Y/n) just... she just went away for an hour. She'll be back. She didn't leave him. Yet.
Shoko breathes out a soft laugh and gets his attention as he dries his eyes. "Doctor Ieiri is hereby formally letting you know that the feeling you are describing is called 'love,' you dumb idiot. You're in love with her."
Satoru stares at her for a few seconds, digging deep inside himself. Yes. This sounds right. This feels right. He doesn't feel misdiagnosed. When he says it in his head over and over again, "I'm in love with her. I'm in love with her," it feels right.
"I'm in love with her," he says out loud. "Why didn't I know this?"
Shoko laughs. She never laughs. But now she's laughing, and Satoru raises his eyebrows. Is she laughing at him? "Because you had a messed-up life, Satoru," she says and falls silent. "Your parents loved you for what you can do, and so did most people in your life. Suguru loved you for you, and he left, so you think being you isn't enough anymore. But you never even thought about me. I love you, too, and I'm still here."
Satoru knows that Shoko doesn't love love him. She loves him the same way he loves her, and now that he thinks about it, it's the same feeling he has for (y/n), only not as strong.
"So what do I do?"
She gives him a pitiful smile. "Are you really that stupid?" she asks, and he scrunches his nose. "You listen to what she has to say, and you apologize." When he's about to protest, Shoko continues, "Don't be an idiot. You are sorry, I know it. Just because you think you're right doesn't mean that you're not sorry for what you did. And then you tell her what you just told me."
"And that will work?"
Shoko rolls her eyes, then grins at him as if she knows something he doesn't. Which, to be fair, she probably does. "Yes. That will work."
Satoru throws a look at the clock. It's the middle of the night. Only half an hour has passed since she left. What now? Does he go after her? Or does he wait the other half an hour for her to get back?
"I want to go," he tells Shoko. "I don't want to wait. I want her to know what I'm feeling, and I don't want it to wait for another half an hour."
Shoko's grin widens. "Go, then."
But before Satoru can take a single step, Ijichi comes running around the corner, panting. "Satoru!" he shouts, making the man turn around. "Where's (y/n)?"
Satoru and Shoko look at each other, then back at Ijichi. "She left half an hour ago," Satoru answers. "Why? What's wrong?"
----
I've been walking around aimlessly for fifteen minutes. What do I do? Why am I so worked up about this? I shouldn't care what Gojo is thinking, right? I shouldn't... I need to sit down somewhere. Where do I go? What do i do?
I finally reached the edge of the forest, and this is just one massive deja-vu. Only this time, Gojo didn't leave me, I left him. This feels so wrong. But the steps I'm walking are familiar. I know the way to Tokyo, and I could probably find to the hotel with closed eyes. The hotel! That's where I'm going. I've been wondering where my feet are carrying me. But there's not a chance I'll make it there and back in an hour. Because I will be back in an hour no matter what. I don't want to walk away from this. I just need some time to cool off.
The first cab I see takes me right to the front of the hotel, and I'm happy to find it open around the clock. The familiarity of the bar is a comfort I didn't think I'd find in a place like this. I would have thought the only comfort I'd find from now on is in Gojo's arms.
"What can I get you?" The bartender pulls me out of my thoughts.
When I look up at him, I'm a bit disappointed that it's not the same one who worked here when I was here with Gojo. "A vodka martini," I order my favorite drink. The bartender nods and is about to turn away when I say, "Actually, can I have a scotch on the rocks?"
He nods again, smiles, and gets to work. So. Where was I? Gojo, of course. Right, so why exactly am I so annoyed about this? I know he just meant well. I know he'd never hurt me, and that's exactly why he did this. Because he doesn't want anything to hurt me. I guess it just annoys me that he can't admit that what he did feels awful to me. He just needs to admit that.
But really, what is going on? I'm annoyed a lot. He annoys me a lot. So what's different this time? Why do I need to walk away this time? It shouldn't even be that important to me. He's Gojo. He's a bother and a pain in the ass. In my first three weeks, he did nothing but make my life harder than it needed to be. He apparently doesn't believe in me and still let me do our first mission together completely on my own. But he's Gojo. He makes me laugh harder than anyone ever did, and he makes me feel more important than anyone in the world. For the past week, he did nothing but make my life better than it ever was.
The bartender slides me my drink, and when I look up to thank him, my eye falls on the clock behind him. It's the middle of the night, and I've been gone for half an hour. I have just enough time to figure this out until my drink is empty, and then I have to go back. I want to go back.
Maybe Gojo does believe in me, and my own insecurities just never wanted me to see that. On our mission in the hospital, I was pushing him away and had my mind set on splitting up. Because I wanted to prove myself. But what if I didn't even need to? What if he'd seen how good I was on our first mission together, but he just didn't want me to get hurt like I always do? Like I did at the hospital, too? And after I got hurt, when he took me back here to this hotel and healed me, he didn't tell me, "I told you so." He said, ''You did good."
A lot of people didn't believe in me growing up. My own mother, for starters. She knew my sister was better than me, and every day of my teenage life, I worked hard to prove her wrong until one day, I realized that my worth doesn't come from my mother's or anyone else's approval. So why was it so agonizing to think about Gojo not believing in me? Why does his opinion matter so much to me? Because he's the strongest? Because I know that his opinion is the only one that counts in the sorcerer society? Or because -
Hold on. Am I... in love with him? Did I fall in love with Gojo Satoru? Yep, that's it. Oh, shit, that's it. When the hell did that happen? How? Why? What do I do now? I can't keep sitting here, knowing this. I have to tell him. Oh my God, I have to tell him. What if I come back and he says he doesn't want me back? What if he doesn't forgive me for walking away?
I don't care. My glass is still half full. But time's up. In one swig, I empty the glass and put it on the counter with my money. As I slide off the stool, the bartender gives me a smile. I'm just turning around when the double door to the bar flies open.