Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Satoru is halfway inside of the sleek black Mercedes Benz when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He’s tempted to ignore the device, more concerned with convincing (demanding) Ichiji to take him to a bakery before they pick up his trainee. With his newly acquired free time he was finally able to make the commute with the pink haired boy and he wanted to start their day off right.

Hopefully Yuuji would be awake for this car ride, though as he recalls the boy’s sweet face from their last ride together he can’t say he would be upset if the boy used the time to take a much deserved nap. His arm tingles with a phantom sensation as he remembers the gentle grasp it was held in.

He loosely shakes his arm riding it of the feeling and fishes his phone from the confines of fitted slacks, he opens the new message, finger already hovering over the delete button in case it was another aspiring director that somehow found his number and sent him some low effort script.

When he sees who it’s from his finger falters.

Yuukun (7:45 a.m.)
Ichiji didn’t see my text, he must be driving. Can you tell him that I don’t need a ride to the studio today.

His brows furrow at the message. Why didn’t Yuuji need a ride anymore? Was the boy actually sick and couldn’t make it to the studio?

The seconds tick on like hours as he waits for a response, a heavy weight settling like a pit in his stomach. Was Yuuji in his apartment suffering because Satoru didn’t bother to check up on him when he knew something was clearly wrong? He’s overcome by an unfamiliar sense of anxiety.

Yuukun (7:48 a.m.)
Yeah I just wanted to get to the studio earlier so I’m taking the metro

Yuukun (7:49 a.m.)
I didn’t want to bother Ichiji, it’s not a big deal I can get there by myself

Yuukun (7:49 a.m.)
Isn’t he you’re manager, not your driver?

Yuukun (7:51 a.m.)
I think you need to be more considerate to Ichiji, he does a lot for you

He doesn’t get a response to his last message, Satoru tells himself it’s because Yuuji lost signal on the metro and not because he made the conversation too personal with his senseless teasing.

Huffing he feels a frown work its way onto his face, displeasure weighing his lips down. His frown only deepens as the car turns down a familiar road.

“Just head to the studio, you don’t need to pick up Yuuji-kun today.” The words feel bitter on his tongue.

Scrawny fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, shoulders hiking up in surprise. “Is everything okay with Itadori-kun?” The car swerves slightly when Ichiji snaps his head back to look at his employer, it doesn’t take long for the man to whip his gaze back to the road.

He feels one of his brows rising in interest, his manager seemed surprisingly fond of someone he’s only driven around a handful of times. “Everything is fine, it looks like Yuuji-kun just wanted to get to the studio early today is all.”

“What did you do?”

Satoru’s eyes widened in shock, not expecting such a hard tone to come from the highly strung man. Dark eyes meet the inky black satin of his blindfold in the rearview mirror before darting away, a bead of sweat forming on the man’s brow.

That was the response that he was used to, but the question still lingers in the air. The low rumble of tires on asphalt is the only sound that remains in the cabin. He lets the question settle and seep into every corner and divot of the luxury vehicle, sinking into leather seats as he mulls the question over in his mind.

Briefly he wonders why Ichiji even cares, but knowing who this is about, Satoru doesn’t need long to figure out the reason why. Yuuji was exactly the kind of caring and selfless individual that would inspire his typically anxious manager to stand up to him. Ichiji was never the type to argue or disagree with him, but for the teen’s sake his manager would risk his job to question him.

Satoru had to respect that, even if the man in the front seat looked like he desperately wanted to take those words back, still his manager remained silent, a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

He tilts his head back letting out a deep sigh. What did he do? That was the question wasn’t it, for once it wasn’t his shitty personality that was the cause of an interpersonal relationship issue. At least, he didn’t think so. Maybe it would have been easier if it was, but he was sure a certain older brother was to blame for Yuuji’s despondent attitude recently.

The contrite look on Sukuna’s face the previous day plays on a loop in his mind. His fist clenches at his side, carefully maintained nails biting into the meat of his palm. What gave Sukuna the right to look so regretful when it was his fault that Yuuji was suffering.

Relaxing his fists he breathes a long silent breath, trying to reign in his displeasure at the thought of Yuuji’s vexing older brother. His irritation was only making Ichiji more nervous.

“I didn’t do anything.” The belated response to his manager's question hangs heavy in the air. The truth of the statement weighing down on him.

He didn’t do anything. He did nothing as Yuuji left his side at the restaurant and never came back. When he finally reunited with his trainee and saw how exhausted and frail the usually cheery boy was he did nothing.

Worst of all when Yuuji was clearly distraught over losing the challenge he did nothing, he just watched the slight frame vanish from his sight.

He’s replayed that image in his mind more times than he can count. He shouldn’t have let Yuuji leave by himself, that's what started this whole mess in the first place. And with the text he received earlier it just feels like the pink haired boy is trying to isolate himself and Satoru isn’t going to let that happen.

Judging by the signs whipping past them outside of the car, the pair aren’t far from their destination. He drums an impatient pattern on his thigh, he’s eager to get to the studio and see his trainee in person. He’s not going to make the same mistake today.

He won’t let Yuuji run from him.

When he arrives at the studio his first instinct is to look for his pink haired trainee, unfortunately for him he was immediately pulled away by a production assistant.

“The director wants to go over the shoot with you and Ryomen-san.” The crew member starts walking before he can say anything, he frowns and over the crowd of people he see’s Yuuji seated in Nobara’s makeup chair chatting with the stylist. From this distance he can barely make out the purple smudging below the boy’s eyes. He looks back to the PA and they’re halfway across the room. Gritting his teeth he follows the retreating figure, hopefully this won’t take too long.

He weaves through the rigs of cameras and lights, cutting through the dense crowd without blinking an eye. The mass of bodies easily parts for him, a hush follows wherever he goes. Reverent eyes analyzing his every move, cataloging his every action and savoring the brief moment they got to be in the same space as him.

The attention doesn’t faze him, any other day he would be reveling in it, would bask in the adoring, borderline worshiping, devotion to him. But he didn’t have time for that today. He needed to talk to Yuuji, but to do that he had to get through Yaga’s useless ‘mission statement’ or whatever he liked to call it.

The open space of the studio begins to whittle down into narrow branching hallways. The acoustics dampening in the compact space. Noise from the bustling studio quieting to a gentle murmur getting softer as they approach Yaga’s temporary office space.

A slender hand raps on the door in three quick bursts. “Yaga-sensei, I have Gojo-san with me.”

“Send him in.” A deep voice rings out from behind the thick wooden door.

Without any notice the door is pushed open and the production assistant gestures for him to enter the conference room that Yaga is using as his office. He brushes past the assistant and immediately notices that Sukuna and Ertegun are already sitting in the cushioned office chairs that surround the table in the center of the room.

Neither man looks up to greet him. Sukuna is talking in a hushed voice with his manager seated beside him and Ertegun is busy scrolling on his phone, legs propped up on the polished table.

“Take a seat Gojo, we’re waiting for you.” With a snap Yaga closes the large binder that was sitting in front of him and gestures loosely towards one of the dozen of chairs surrounding the table. The director takes up the head of the table, surrounded by comically large stacks of scripts and contracts for the show.

He pulls out a chair across from Sukuna and as he settles into his seat, the other two men bring their attention to the director.

Yaga clears his throat and rifles through a stack of papers next to him, pulling out a moderately sized packet. “Head to Head viewers have been rising consistently over these past few weeks, and our market researchers predict that our mini challenge this episode will perform very well, Mainty seems confident about their investment also.”

Satoru rolls his eyes behind his mask and settles deeper in the plush ergonomic office chair. Great, another useless meeting, he’s surprised the show runners aren’t here along with some pompous executive to tell them how they aren’t selling the show well enough.

“The next portion of our filming might get a little dry since we don’t have a competition attached so try to make things interesting for the audience.” Yaga pulls out another stack and passes it towards Sukuna. “Ryomen, your group especially needs to work on audience engagement. Our editors have made a note that most of your footage is unusable since there is almost no chemistry between you and Fushiguro. Work on that.”

Sukuna scoffs, barely looking at the packet in front of him. “I’m not wasting my time with useless shit like that.” A crimson eye is pointed his way. “I’m training Megumi to be the best, not play into the fantasy’s of whoever is watching.”

A soft tutting fills the air. “Oh Ryomen, you just don’t get it.” Ertegun lowers his feet from the table, finally interested in the conversation. “Catering to the audience isn’t ’useless shit’ as you say. Though I suppose someone with your…” The host gives him a long look. “Talents… It would seem that way.”

The metal head turns his ire on the host, brows pinching in irritation. “Just who is the star and who is the host again? I must have forgotten.”

Thin lips twist. “I’ll have you know I have my own following that tunes in just for me.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna leers. “I didn’t realize the host was such a big draw in an idol competition show.”

“Enough!” Sunglasses are set to the side as a large tan hand is pulled down a deeply tired face. “Just accept the notes and don’t talk back, we don’t have much time before filming. This was supposed to be a quick meeting to discuss details for shooting today, not to devolve into a pissing contest.”

Satoru inwardly cheers, for once he’s glad that Yaga is such a hard ass, as much as he doesn’t want to be here it’s nice watching the two get put into place.

Ertegun shrugs and leans back into his own chair. “Right, well go on.” The host waves his hand motioning for Yaga to continue.

The director takes a deep breath but doesn’t acknowledge the blatant disrespect. “As I was saying, this episode will be focused on creating concept images for your trainee’s debut single. All promotional images will be created during the course of this episode, the CD booklet, photo cards, posters, and a slew of other advertising. So don’t slack on images.”

Yaga then proceeds to grab a loose paper from the top of a stack in front of him. “We’re allowing you one stylist of your choice to compete in the episode alongside you so I want a name now, if you don’t have a preference one will be provided for you.”

Satoru perks up at this, lifting his hand to catch the director's attention. “No need, I have one already. Kugisaki Nobara.” The girl would be ecstatic to be filmed with them, plus it would be beneficial to have another person on their team that would look out for Yuuji.

The director jots the name down with a slight hum and turns his attention towards the other competitor in the room. The pink haired man just shrugs, a disinterested look on his face. With a short nod Yaga motions for the production assistant that hasn’t left the room. “Go inform Kugisaki of the changes and find a suitable stylist for Ryomen’s team. Also make sure they are made aware of what is required for the contestants to wear at the start of filming.” With a quick nod the assistant darts out of the room.

“Now that is taken care of.” Yaga grabs a binder, a collage of cutesy stickers covering the plastic, and starts shuffling some documents around. “We have a couple more things to discuss before filming begins.”

Satoru barely holds back a groan, the impatient tapping of his foot is muted by carpet but he’s certain his displeasure could be read easily on his face. They were set to start shooting in twenty minutes and at this rate he wouldn’t get a chance to speak with Yuuji before filming started.

“All clothes have been provided by Une Prise for today’s shoot, so Ertegun be sure to name drop the brand. Mainty’s has generously agreed to lend us their photographers for the rest of the shoot but because of that we don’t have clearance to get any exterior shots.” Satoru grits his teeth at the news, most of his ideas revolve around capturing Yuuji outside. Stagnant sets didn’t suit his bright and cheerful trainee at all. “We know how limited that can be so additional backdrops have been built around the studio for the purpose of this episode.”

As the time passes and Yaga continues to ramble about his timeline for today’s shoot, Satoru can feel a headache fast approaching. He wanted to talk to Yuuji about what happened yesterday but as the director continued to drone on about useless information he knew he was out of luck. He could only hope that Nobara was able to cheer up the boy in his absence.

With a heavy thud the large binder in front of Yaga was slammed shut, the man pushed himself from the table and stood gathering the file and other loose papers in his hands. “That should be it for now.”

Already halfway out of his seat when the other man was gathering his papers. He ignores the looks from everyone else in the room and breezes past the director. He doesn’t have long until the others make it back to the main stage and he still hasn’t spoken to Yuuji since their text conversation earlier. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay before the dove straight into filming.

His long legs easily carry him through the twisting corridors that make up the back office space and through the prebuilt sets for the other shows the studio was tasked with filming. As he approaches the main stage he keeps his senses open, searching for any sign of his pink haired trainee. A peel of laughter rings out and his heart starts at the joyous sound.

Without even needing to think about it his attention is immediately drawn to the source of the tittering sound. From behind a dark shroud his eyes latch onto the sunny expression of his trainee. Pink lips are spread into a wide smile as he strikes an exaggerated pose for Nobara to snap a picture of. Even covered head to toe in the basic dark clothing required for the establishing shots of the episode, Yuuji's appearance is blinding, a splitting smile and flushed cheeks as he poses for Nobara’s amusement.

Satoru finds himself locked in place as he takes in the sight, while the ringing laughter is a welcomed sound he can’t forget the dark stains he saw under the boy’s eyes when he first entered the studio. The bruised skin was nowhere to be seen now and he couldn't help but wonder what else was being concealed under the boy’s carefully constructed mask and Nobara’s skillful layer of paint.

He hesitates, feet rooted to the ground as he observes the pair. He wanted to talk about what happened last night, to make sure that Yuuji knew it wasn’t his fault they lost the challenge. But as he stood across the easy joy displayed on his trainee’s face he couldn’t bring himself to take another step closer, apprehension weighing him down.

As he watches the pair strike increasingly outrageous poses in the full body mirror a quiet voice whispers in the back of his mind not to take this away from Yuuji. Nothing good will come from him interrupting and dragging up negative feelings from yesterday’s loss. Maybe Yuuji truly just needed some time to cool off.

Something still doesn’t feel right about that thought, but Satoru realizes that minutes before they begin filming isn’t an appropriate time to bring up his concerns.

“Places!” A loud voice cuts through the air.

He watches as Yuuji jolts from the noise, pink hair whipping around as honey brown eyes scan the room searching for something. He’s only slightly surprised when those large brown eyes lock onto him, relief painting across the boy’s features as he locates his mentor. Nobara follows the line of sight and gently pats Yuuji’s back before heading towards the stage to be fitted with a mic.

It doesn’t take long for him to cross the distance between them and plant himself at his trainee’s side. “Are you ready?” He carefully looks over the boy beside him.

Yuuji is dressed head to toe in Une Prise, a loose fitting dark collared shirt with silver brooches on the collar and delicate jeweled chains draping from his shoulders. Identical jewels could be found decorating the shirts pockets, catching the light and glittering with the wearers every breath. Slim wrists peek out from wide sleeves and reach up to fiddle with the straps of the leather belt harness that hugs his frame. Dark sooty lashes flutter hiding honey brown eyes from him as the boy looks down.

A frown pulls at his lips when he sees how unsure the boy is. “Hey,” His voice is soft as he nudges the boy lightly with his arm. He waits for warm brown eyes to meet his gaze before he continues. “There’s no need to worry, we’re just taking pictures. And you already have one thing over Megumi.”

Honey brown eyes go wide as a disbelieving look takes over the boy’s face. “I do?” His tone is hesitant with a tinge of what felt like hope taking over the edges.

Satoru is slightly surprised by the vulnerable sound but he nods sagely. A smile threatens to pull at the corner of his lips as the boy unconsciously leans closer to him, desperate to hear his next words. He basks in the closeness between them before he leans down to the boy’s height, he glances around them dramatically, making sure no one was around to overhear their conversation.

“The one thing Megumi could never hope to compete with,” He trails off, delighting in the boy’s full attention. He can’t fight it anymore and lets out a wide grin. “Your smile!”

Pink brows furrowed in confusion as the words are slowly digested. “My, smile?”

“Of course! Your smile is one of your best qualities. I think I would be blind by now if it wasn’t for this.” He pulls at his blindfold, light taking over his vision, and for a split second he could see Yuuji in full detail with the beginnings of a sweet smile pulling at his lips. “That’s the one.”

Those pink lips curl even higher revealing a bright grin. “You think so?”

Satoru allows himself to breathe easier as Yuuji’s natural cheer begins to return. “Of course! Are you doubting your sensei? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Megumi smile like that and a good smile like yours is an idol's bread and butter.”

Yuuji’s grin turns bashful but the boy seems pleased with the compliment. He automatically reaches for pink locks to ruffle the soft curls but hesitates. When Yuuji doesn’t pull away he gently drops his hand into the pink cloud and delights in the downy tresses. The fluffy waves feel like heaven under his fingers and Satoru finds himself getting lost in the sensation that he’s been deprived of for so long.

His fingers prickle as he brushes them through pink locks, he might be imagining things but the hair feels slightly brittle under his gentle touch. He continues to stroke the pink fringe, occasionally brushing past the shorn portion of his nape. For a brief moment it feels like cottony curls are pushed deeper into his palm but he doesn’t draw attention to it and continues his gentle caress.

He doesn’t know how long they stood there but Satoru knew that they needed to start heading to the main stage before a crew member was sent to look for them. His hand feels weighed down by lead when he tries to remove it, it takes more effort than he would like to admit for him to remove his hand.

“Come on, let’s go before Yaga sends a missing person unit after us.” He says as he begins to lead the way to the main stage, the hand that rested in Yuuji’s hair hanging heavy at his side. The boy is quick to match his pace and soon enough the pair have reached the main stage.

Sukuna and Megumi are already waiting on the raised platform and he isn’t too surprised, considering the detour he took. While he is being outfitted with a mic pack he pointedly ignores the heavy glare pointed in his direction. Yaga should expect him to be late by now.

As the mentor and trainee pair ascend the steps to the stage Satoru notes that Megumi is wearing a nearly identical outfit to the boy beside him. That must be the baseline Yaga was talking about in their meeting earlier. It feels a bit malicious to have the two boys in the exact same outfit, but he isn’t too surprised, this is Head to Head after all.

The pair are quick to find their marks and Satoru is quick to tune everything out after that. He was already made aware of what was going to happen this episode so there was no need to pay attention to Ertegun’s grating voice as he regurgitated the same information in his forced chipper tone. Instead he let his blindfold act like a shield as he took in his surroundings.

The stage surrounding them has barely changed so he doubted filming would take place here, he wondered why Yaga insisted on recording all opening dialogues on the stage they used so infrequently but he didn’t care enough to ask. The boy next to him was watching Ertegun with his usual rapt attention, his youthful face a microcosm of expression as his cherubic features twist and shift with each announcement from the host.

He spends a good portion of his time just watching the boy’s expressive face before he manages to drag his eyes away. It seems he wasn’t the only one captivated by Yuuji’s charm as when he looks over to his supposed rival he sees the man’s eyes dart for a brief moment towards his mirror image across the stage.

Satoru feels his own eyes narrow at this, he takes a slight step forward making it look like he was just adjusting his weight but he effectively blocks his trainee from Sukuna’s view. With all the cameras pointed at them the pink haired man can’t be as obvious in his displeasure as Satoru knows the man wants to be and he takes great joy in that.

The host doesn’t notice the pair's silent war as he drones on about the rules. “Our contestants will have two full days to create as much promotional material as they wish.”

Satoru tunes back in at the right time to catch that piece of information, two days? The host is making it seem like that more than enough time but real shoots like this normally take weeks, sometimes even months. He knew they were never going to have that amount of time, but two days was pushing it.

He’s certain that the time limit was due to Mainty’s contract with the studio. The brand was lending their highly skilled photographers for the shoot but with that came the drawback of a strict time limit. Once again he’s confronted with the fact that the execs of Head to Head are putting them at a disadvantage by collaborating with brands that are far beyond their reach.

Ertegun’s voice picks up as he addresses the cameras in a flourish, the man gestures to a dark corner of the studio beyond the stage. He just barely notices the additional cameras in the distance before bright overhead lights flicker on one by one.

As each light cuts on a new portion of the back of the giant warehouse they call a studio is illuminated. With each new light elaborate themed backdrops are revealed to the contestants and audience alike.

The miniature photography studios contain dozens of different scenic tableaus. Beachside boardwalks, classroom interiors, chic cafe settings, and so much more. Satoru has to admit, the set designer and prop department really outdid themselves with this one. None of this was here the night before, he didn’t envy the poor souls who had to work overtime to get this ready for today’s shoot.

It didn't take long before the whole back of the studio was illuminated. Ertegun drops from the stage and motions for the group behind him to follow. The contestants are led to the massive collection of photo backdrops and from here Satoru can tell that each room is nearly the size of an office cubicle but the detailed scenery and strategic placement of props makes each section appear much larger than it actually is.

The host guides them to what appears to be another boutique set up, but this time instead of being confined in temporary walls this display of clothing has a more open concept. Standing racks hold swatches of designer clothing and key pieces are even displayed on faceless mannequins. As they approach the pop up stand for Une Prise he notes that the two photographers from yesterday and the studio's own stylists are standing in front of the collection.

It takes the group a moment to adjust themselves to Yaga’s liking inside his camera's view frame but when they’re given the okay to keep rolling Ertegun doesn’t miss a beat. “As you can see we have created a plethora of options for our contestants to choose from.” He gestures to the abundance of backdrops and grins. “I better not see the same image more than once, now begin!”

With no timer to set the pace, Satoru approaches the collection of clothing at a moderate pace. Yuuji bounces at his side nervously but matches his stride. He raises a halfhearted hand to wave at their photographer from the previous day but is shocked when his arm is grabbed by manicured fingers.

He lets himself be pulled to the side, when they are far enough from the other mentor and trainee pair Nobara drops his arm. The girl levels him with a fierce look. “What’s the game plan?”

A smile makes its way to his face at the stylist’s eagerness, he decides to have a bit of fun. “Hm, game plan? Dress Yuuji-kun in a bunch of cute clothes and profit.” The keen look on the girl's face drips into one of distaste as she looks him over. ‘You can’t be serious’ is written all over her face.

A copper eye twitches as the girl's delicate features settle into deep lines of irritation. “Clothing tells a story, you can’t just throw on whatever you think is best and call it a day.” A heeled foot stomps on the ground. “Themes for promotional images are important, especially for an idol.” She turns her gaze on the boy beside him. “What kind of idol are you trying to be? Natural, poppy, lovely, cool? These things matter.”

Satoru finds himself agreeing with the girl, figuring out what style suited Yuuji would be beneficial. He always pictured Yuuji as the youthful and cheerful type. Nature elements suited the boy best in his opinion, particularly anything that had to do with summer. Loose school uniforms, hanging out with friends in front of convenience stores, or beach bonfires. He could see Yuuji flourishing in those types of settings.

He knew the boy came from a small town located in the backroads of Sendai, perhaps they could play into that. He imagines that Yuuji would get a deep tan in the summer, considering how much the boy liked to be outside. His mind gets caught on the idea of Yuuji wearing loose tank tops and ill fitted shorts, the band of his shirt falling down a toned arm revealing a strip of skin untouched by the sun’s harsh rays, the contrast of pale skin against golden brown leaving a dry feeling in his throat. He almost feels like he’s in the harsh heat himself with how dry his mouth suddenly feels.

“Disgusting.”

He’s ripped from his wandering thoughts by Nobara’s muttered admonishment, a dismayed look on her face. He doesn’t let the girl's judgment affect him, but he also pushes the countryside Yuuji imagery from his mind. It would be best to steer clear of such distractions for now.

Sensing his lack of shame Nobara turns her attention towards Yuuji who remains unaware of his deluded fantasies.

The girl considers Yuuji for a moment, taking in his form and seemingly running through a mental checklist in her mind. With a huff the stylist comes to a conclusion. “As much as it pains me to admit it, you're definitely the lovely type.” She points her finger almost accusingly at the boy.

“Eh? Lovely type, what’s that supposed to mean?” Pink lips fall into a pout as the boy whines. “I want to be the cool type!”

Nobara levels the boy with a flat look that the pink haired boy fidgets under. Tawny hair sways as the girl gestures sharply towards the dark haired teen picking through racks of clothing, face set in an unbothered line.

“That’s what the cool type looks like, and you’re nowhere near that.”

The boy’s pout pushes even further as honey brown eyes take in Megumi’s lanky frame. For some reason Satoru is the next target of his pitiful (adorable) stare. He watches as pink brows pinch and pouty full lips straighten into a determined line.

“I can be the cool type too!”

Satoru watches as honey brown eyes are obscured by thick lashes, pink brows relaxing into a steady line. Yuuji’s face goes from being completely open to a blank slate. There’s a foreboding feeling in his gut as he watches the emotions drain from the boy’s usually sunny expression.

This new countenance isn’t too different from the defeated look that consumed his trainee’s features yesterday and Satoru hates it.

A manicured hand invades his vision for a split second as a harsh flick is delivered to Yuuji’s forehead. “Don’t do that with your face, you’re not suited to being the cool type.”

Wide eyes blink rapidly, expression morphing into one of confusion and Satoru is grateful for the distraction, he doesn’t want to see that look on Yuuji’s face ever again.

The stylist continues. “There’s nothing wrong with being the lovely type, don’t freak out just because of the name, it describes kind, nice, happy people just like you.” A pointed nail is pressed into a dark shirt, poking the firm muscle with each descriptor.

Satoru hums drawing the boy’s attention and nods along with Nobara’s explanation. “I think it suits Yuuji-kun.” He never had to worry about idol types or classifications, he just did what he wanted to and didn’t bother to market himself to the public, but he couldn’t deny that ‘lovely’ suited Yuuji perfectly.

The boy whips his head between the two but settles on his mentor. “What would Sensei prefer?”

He wasn’t expecting that question, it shouldn’t matter what he prefers but he can’t deny that a small part of him is happy that Yuuji wants to cater to him. Realistically he knows that he’s being asked because of his experience in the industry but he can’t deny that the thought of Yuuji styling himself to Satoru’s preference isn’t appealing.

Though another larger part of himself knows that the boy is best as himself, and Satoru wants to encourage that over anything else. “Sensei likes Yuuji just the way he is, it doesn’t matter what type of idol you are because Yuuji is Yuuji.”

The boy looks content with his answer, a soft smile taking over his face. He nods his head and pink curls bounce with the movement, Yuuji then turns to Nobara, “I trust you, I’m in your skilled hands Kugisaki.”

The stylist doesn’t need any more approval than that and dives towards the collection of clothes with a new found passion, completely in her element.

Satoru watches as the girl’s short frame disappears behind a clothing rack, the only indication the girl was there was the forceful way the garments were shifted through. Small deft hands sift through dozens of pieces, holding elaborate designs up for her keen copper eyes to study. He loses the girl for a moment in the maze of clothing racks but it doesn’t take long for the stylist to return from her hunt.

There’s a bundle of fabric draped over her arm and a triumphant grin on her face as she returns with her collection. She walks past the mentor and trainee pair with large confident steps and calls over her shoulder, “This way!”

Satoru and Yuuji share a look but follow the girl without complaint. He watches as the stylist leads them past the Une Prise collection and to a moderately sized vanity that has been set up for the stylists to use.

Nobara is quick to deposit her haul onto a nearby table and pulls a few key pieces out with she hands to Yuuji. “There should be a changing room nearby, get dressed and come right back!” She barks out with a fierce look. She gets a salute in return and Yuuji takes off carrying the bundle of fabric in his arms towards the direction that Nobara pointed out.

With Yuuji gone to get dressed he watches the girl start digging through the drawers around the vanity, rifling through makeup palettes, brushes, and various other cosmetics. The drawer is shut with a slight growl. He doesn’t say anything and watches as Nobara surveys the space, muttering softly under her breath.

Satoru lets her be and turns to consider the backdrops that have been prepared for their use today. Capturing an image for the album art should be their main priority, so he needed to figure out what theme would work best with Yuuji’s single.

Even though he didn’t know the full story he knew the song was deeply personal to his trainee, and had a lot to do with his relationship with Sukuna. He finds himself tensing with irritation, gripping his fists into a tight ball beside him. He knew from the very beginning that Yuuji only agreed to help him because he wanted to fix his crumbling bond with his older brother, but the more Satoru learned about the pair the more he wanted to keep Yuuji for himself.

His so called rival didn’t deserve Yuuji, didn’t deserve the lengths that his trainee pushed himself to just to reestablish a connection that the man didn’t look like he wanted to acknowledge in the first place.

With a deep breath he releases his closed fist, stretching the tense fingers. Unfortunately it didn’t matter what he thought, he promised the boy that he would help and he wasn’t going to go back on his word anytime soon, no matter how much he thought Sukuna didn’t deserve Yuuji.

Observing the different sets, Satoru already had a handful of ideas but he would need to see Nobara’s styling before he made any final decisions.

A triumphant cheer breaks him from his thoughts and his head snaps to Nobara who is holding a fistful of colorful ribbons. “Finally!” The girl cheers, brandishing the ribbons like the spoils from a hard fought battle.

He blinks but doesn’t have much longer to predict Nobara’s plan before Yuuji comes back pulling at the sleeves of his shirt uncomfortably. “Kugisaki, you don’t think this is too much white?”

Satoru turns his attention to his trainee, the boy wasn’t wrong, he was covered head to toe in white garments. The total opposite of what he was wearing earlier.

“No this is perfect! But let me just fix-” The girl trails off as drops her handful of ribbons and helps Yuuji adjust his clothing. Skillful hands deftly fold long sleeves into the cuff of a cropped white jacket, while she is doing so he nudges the boy to tuck the ends of his loose shirt into the hem of matching white flared shorts.

The pair make quick work of adjusting his outfit and when they are done Yuuji inspects himself in the full length mirror. “It doesn’t look as awkward now but I still think it’s a lot of white, aren’t you worried I might spill something on it.”

“Don’t eat while you’re wearing it then dumbass.” Nobara quips while grabbing her bundle of ribbons and bringing them to Yuuji in front of the mirror. “Besides this is a perfectly iconic idol look.” She brings a purple strand to the boy and drapes it across his shoulder before quickly tossing it.

Nobara gets through a few more colors before Yuuji finally questions her. “What are you doing?”

“Ah.” Satoru hums, catching on to the stylists intent. “I probably should have thought of this sooner.”

“Thought of what?” The boy questions as a green strip of fabric is pressed against his form, the girl drops it.

“I’m sure you’re aware that an idols main draw is their personality, but most idols take it a step further with ways to distinguish themselves. Things like a color that is associated with them or a certain animal, anything to make them stand out.”

Satoru can see the confusion still lingering behind the boy’s eyes so he steps in. “What color do you think would be associated with me?”

Honey brown eyes light up as a grin takes over his face. “Blue!” The boy answers excitedly with a slight bounce in his step.

A matching grin takes over his face as he lowers his blindfold just enough to reveal a glittering blue eye and winks at the boy. “Correct!”

A considering look crosses the boy’s features and Satoru watches that honey brown gaze drift to the Une Prise collection where Sukuna and Megumi are still gathering clothes for their own photoshoot.

Sensing the train of thought, Satoru answers the boy’s silent question. “Sukuna has one too, as much as he hates being associated with idol culture. Sometimes fans assign colors and it’s beyond an artist's control. Can you guess his color?”

“Oh that makes sense, it’s red right?”

He snaps his fingers. “Correct again! That’s why it’s important to decide these things for yourself before the fans get a chance to. You don’t want to be stuck with something you don’t like.” Satoru himself didn’t care for what color his fans decided thought would work with him best, but sometimes he does think blue might have been a basic choice. He would maybe go with purple if he had a chance now.

“If Sukuna is smart about it they’ll pick green for Megumi.” Nobara chimes in, shuffling through her remaining ribbon colors.

A dismayed expression engulfs Yuuji’s face. “Does that mean my color should be brown?”

“What makes you say that?” Satoru asks, surprise taking over his voice.

Narrow shoulders shrug as the boy looks off to the side. “Well it seems like everyone’s colors are based on their eyes, and mine are brown.” He mumbles, white sneakers scuffing against the floor as he fidgets under his mentor's gaze.

He doesn’t like the implication that Yuuji doesn’t like his eyes, Satoru thought the honey brown irises were beautiful, he constantly found himself lost in the warm depths. He found himself wondering if this is how his fans felt about his own eyes.

Nobara is quick to chime in while he’s lost in thought. “People who pick their accent colors based on their eyes are lazy. Especially when most of Japan’s population has brown eyes, you don’t see idols out where with brown light sticks do you? Picking accent colors started in large groups to differentiate the members, so things like personality is also a huge factor.”

“Think of it like sentai ranger colors!” Satoru cheers.

The stylist whips her head to the idol with a harsh glare. “It’s not like that at all!” She picks a black ribbon from her collection and holds it up. “If I had to pick a color for myself it would be black, since it shows how fashionable and mysterious I am.”

Yuuji nods enthusiastically. “Black suits you Kugisaki! You would definitely be the ranger they call in for all the tough bosses the normal team can’t beat!”

Satoru holds back a laugh, it seems his sentai comparison stuck. Nobara looks like she wants to say something trying hard to keep an annoyed expression on her face but it’s clear to Satoru that the stylist is visibly pleased with being compared to someone so cool.

“If I get to pick then I want to be the red ranger!” The boy cheers, grabbing a discarded red ribbon and displaying it proudly.

This snaps Nobara out of her daze. “I said it was not like that!” She grabs the strip of fabric from Yuuji’s hand and the two begin arguing over sentai rangers and idols.

He can’t help the pleased expression that washes over his face, of course Yuuji would want to be the typical protagonist that wanted to save the world. He would make the perfect shonen protagonist that Satoru was sure of, but he also can’t help but think that Yuuji asked to be the same color as his older brother. It seems like no matter how harshly the boy is treated it would be impossible for him to throw away that bond.

Just imagining Yuuji draped in Sukuna’s signature colors irritates him. He cuts in before Yuuji can steal the ribbon back from the stylist's grasp. “While I think Yuuji would make a cute red ranger, it wouldn’t be smart to have two people with the same identifying color on the show.”

Yuuji pouts but acquiesces, falling back to his side, breaths slightly unsteady from the struggle with Nobara. His brows furrow at his trainee’s stuttering breathing, a slight scuffle like this shouldn’t have tired him out.

“That only leaves us with yellow, orange, and pink.” Nobara cuts through his thoughts and Satoru has a hard time dragging his gaze away from Yuuji to the colors in question.

The two seem stuck trying to decide the right color but Satoru has already chosen. He takes the silk ribbon from the girl’s loose hold and approaches his trainee. With gentle hands he tilts a sharp chin up and wraps the ribbon around the slender column of Yuuji’s neck. Wide eyes consider him as his deft fingers tie a knot with the delicate ribbon, a flush climbing up the tips of his ears.

“Pink looks best on Yuuji.”

Nobara hums appreciatively and begins digging around multiple drawers for more pops of color to add to Yuuji’s outfit now that his accent color has been decided. He lets that noise fade to the background as his gaze focuses on the boy in front of him.

His eyes drink in the slight form in front of him, wide unblinking eyes unknowingly meeting his own from behind the blindfold. His hand is still gently holding the ribbon that hangs from the boy’s neck. A small part of himself wants to kiss the strip of fabric connected to the steady line of the boy’s pulse, he’s interrupted by Nobara eagerly approaching them with an armful of accessories before he can even get a chance. The pink ribbon slips from his hold as Yuuji jumps back, looking anywhere but at his mentor.

He lets Yuuji have some space, heart pounding in his chest. What was that?

Satoru knew he had questionable morals, he’s never been one to care for society's rules if they didn’t benefit him, but this might be going a bit far. Even if it was just the ribbon, Satoru considered kissing his fifteen year old trainee. He knows he should feel disgusted, repulsed that he had such thoughts, but the only thing he can feel is annoyed that Nobara interrupted him.

Not wanting to face those thoughts right now he pushes them to the back of his mind, they have a competition to focus on. Satoru is not going to let his questionable feelings get in the way of that right now.

It doesn’t take long for Nobara to add the finishing touches to Yuuji’s outfit, a pink belt wrapped around a slim waist, pink buttons and jewels clipped to his crisp white jacket and she even stuck pastel pink band aids to his toned legs.

The boy does a turn in front of the full length mirror, inspecting himself. “Wow, I really look like an idol!”

“Of course you do!” Nobara puffs her chest out with pride. “Did you expect anything else from me?” Yuuji shakes his head and Nobara preens. “Now let’s start taking some pictures, we need to start documenting my hard work!”

“I don’t think that's why we’re taking pictures.” The boy mutters playfully under his breath but follows his stylist nonetheless.

Satoru is stalking behind the pair silently, content to watch them jump from backdrop to backdrop. He watches as the two race through the web of miniature sceneries with a slight smile on his face, making his own mental tally of tableaus that would work best with Yuuji’s single. For now he’s satisfied watching the teens have fun.

“Oh Itadori, over here! And bring the photographer!” Nobara’s voice calls out from behind a couple rows of backdrops.

The photographer in question is quick to scurry over, professional grade camera gripped tight in his hands. Satoru follows the source of the voice at a leisurely pace and is greeted with a setup covered in fake cherry blossoms, the narrow space is entirely covered in tiny blooms. Nobara stands in the center arranging wired branches and motioning for Yuuji to join her.

Satoru watches as the small girl barks directions a mile a minute bringing her vision to life. He made the right choice, bringing Nobara into this, she has a keen eye for design and the poses she guides Yuuji through bring out all of his best qualities. After this show is over he’ll have to bring her into his own team.

Suddenly the small designer is standing in front of him motioning for him to hold out his palms. He doesn’t question it and follows the girls orders with an easy going smile gracing his features, eager to see what she has planned.

Dozens of small blossoms are placed in his outstretched hands. “We need some petals in motion, make yourself useful.” With that the girl stomps off and Satoru can’t hold back the chuckle that works its way past his lips. Looking towards Yuuji who caught the whole interaction it seems the boy can’t help from laughing either.

He makes sure to pout and act like it’s the hardest task in the world drawing peels of laughter from the pink haired boy. He tosses the petals as instructed and they get plenty of pictures of Yuuji amongst the flowers. Satoru can’t help but admire the boy, he truly looks best with a smile on his face, and even though the flowers are fake it feels like they too are drawn to the boy’s sunny disposition.

Before long Nobara has deemed this area done with and leads the group to the next backdrop. Yuuji tries to brush all the lingering blossoms from himself but the petals are stubborn, clinging to the only glimpse of warmth in this studio.

Satoru tries to reach out and help the boy but it seems like Yuuji has gone back to avoiding him, he ducks from his reach and roughly shakes his head, petals scattering in every direction with the movement. The boy’s next steps are uncoordinated, dizzy from the harsh motion but he’s quick to catch himself. Satoru makes sure to watch the boy’s next steps carefully in case he has to steady him.

They arrive at the next backdrop Nobara decided to use not too long after that. This one resembles a busy street corner and he’s impressed with the amount of detail that is crammed into one space.

They continue like that with little variation. Nobara directs Yuuji through a multitude of different poses and concepts, taking him through various backdrops and sceneries. Yuuji is eager to work with the girl’s vision but Satoru can’t help but notice how occasionally his hands would shake or sometimes he would blink tightly as if staving off a headache. Satoru frowns as he watches this and Nobara must notice it as well since she leads them back to the vanity before long.

As the group approaches the area Yuuji’s confusion is nearly palpable. “Why are we back here?”

Nobara leads the weary boy to the makeup chair and has him sit down. “We can’t take all the pictures in the same outfit stupid, we need some variety.”

While her words are harsh, Satoru see’s them for what they really are, an excuse for a break. The stylist isn’t wrong, changing outfits during a shoot is important but he knows the girl must have chosen now to change the boy’s clothes because even she could tell that Yuuji was beginning to get tired. Yuuji must not realize as he settles back into the chair without another word and Nobara disappears into the racks to grab more clothing.

Satoru can tell that Nobara is taking longer than normal and he’s grateful that the girl was perceptive enough to allow the boy a chance to relax without telling him, with the way Yuuji has been acting recently he wouldn’t be shocked if denied having a break.

Something isn’t right, while taking photos for hours on end was more intensive than the average person realized it wasn’t something that Yuuji couldn’t handle. This was the boy that danced for hours on end without breaking a sweat, but now he was nearly falling asleep in the uncomfortable makeup chair.

Too soon for his liking the girl returns with a new outfit under her arm and Yuuji rushes to get dressed and get back to work.

From then on Nobara is smart with how she goes about directing the boy, she’s careful to make sure they aren’t overwhelming him and makes the boy take frequent breaks under the guise of outfit changes. But as the hours tick by, Satoru notices that Yuuji is clearly out of it.

The boy is unsteady on his feet, stumbling through even the simplest of poses. Yuuji has a hard time paying attention, directions need to be stated multiple times before he can even begin to follow them. Satoru can tell his trainee is trying to hide how worn out he is but nothing can escape his eyes.

On their way to the next backdrop Satoru notices from the corner of his eyes how the boy next to him falters, sooty lashes flutter rapidly honey brown eyes darting wildly trying to find someone to latch onto. Before he knows it Yuuji is tripping over his next step and nearly crashes into the small girl in front of him if it wasn’t for Satoru’s strong arm reflexively reaching out to catch him.

Yuuji blinks slowly as if he doesn’t realize what’s happening and Nobara has turned back with a shocked expression. He keeps his arm out to steady the boy beside him, glancing to the side he notices that the backdrop they are in front of has an elaborate throne centered in the middle of the floor.

He gently guides the boy to sit on the chair and instructs the photographer to grab a bottle of water for his trainee, leaving the three alone. The only noise that fills the air is Yuuji’s jagged breaths that he tries to keep as quiet as possible.

A frown pulls at his lips as he’s forced to listen to Yuuji struggle to catch his breath. “We’re done.”

Wide brown eyes snap towards him immediately. “I can keep going!”

Satoru grits his teeth at the response. It was clear something was wrong with Yuuji and the boy didn’t care and was pushing himself beyond his limits for a useless competition show. He initially just wanted to stop for an extended break but he realizes now it won’t be enough. “There’s no point in continuing if you can’t concentrate.” He ends up snapping without meaning to.

Yuuji doesn’t let that deter him and Satoru can see how the boy wants to argue with him, he doesn’t give him a chance. “What do you think the photos would look like if we continued now and you’re dead on your feet? Do you think that's fair to me or Nobara? To yourself?” He forces himself to take a deep breath. “We can try again tomorrow after you get some proper rest.”

“But we only have two days!” The boy cries out, nearly begging to continue. Honey brown eyes look to Nobara for help but the girl’s face is set in a hard line, she agrees with Satoru. The hopeful look on his face drops as he realizes that he won’t be able keep going.

Satoru forces his gaze away from the boy, he won’t be able to stay true to his word if he keeps looking at the distraught boy. He already wants to apologize for causing him anguish but he won’t because he knows he’s making the right call. He knew Yuuji wouldn’t be able to handle shooting for the rest of the day, so he needed to send him home.

He pulls his phone from his pocket to message Ichiji but a shuffle of movement draws his attention. Yuuji is standing on shaky legs, a desperate look on his face. “Don’t bother Ichiji, I’ll find my own way home.” The boy nearly pleads and Satoru can’t figure out why the boy is so opposed to others helping him when he would easily go out of his way to help a stranger on the street.

“No.” He denies immediately, crowding into Yuuji’s space forcing the boy to take small steps backwards until his foot hits the front leg of the throne and he stumbles into the cushioned seat. “Ichiji will be driving you home no exceptions.” He won’t make the same mistake as last time, and the boy is in no condition to be navigating the metro by himself.

“I don’t want to inconvenience him, he probably has better things to do.”

“Ichiji does what I tell him to do.” He almost doesn’t recognize his own tone, he’s never spoken like this in front of Yuuji before. But he can’t stand how the other downplays himself, Yuuji means so much to him and it hurts to see the boy disregard his own suffering.

He leaves before he can hurt the boy anymore. As he passes the stylist who is watching Yuuji with concern deep in her eyes he tells the girl not to let Yuuji out of her sight. He wouldn’t put it past the boy to run away while no one was looking. Nobara’s face sets in a hard line as she agrees. “You better take care of this old man.”

With a short nod he agrees and leaves the two while he still has a chance, every fiber of his being his yelling at him to go back and watch over the boy to make sure nothing else happens but he knows there’s nothing else he can do for Yuuji right now besides getting him a ride home.

He shoots a quick text off to his manager.

Ichiji 🤓(2:48 p.m.)
Oh no! I’m not far from the studio, I should be there in 15 mins

He’s grateful to his manager's timely response, it allows him to breathe a bit easier knowing that Yuuji won’t have to be here much longer. With that taken care of he pockets his phone, now he just needs to inform Yaga that his trainee will be leaving early today. It wasn't a typical procedure but he didn’t care about that.

It doesn’t take him long to locate the director seated behind the wall of cameras pointed towards the network of backdrops. The man has his attention focused on a monitor in front of him taking notes on a beat up notebook of timestamps he wants the editing team to focus on. As he approaches the man glances up, expecting him.

“Save me the dramatic Gojo and get that boy home.” Comes the rough voice as he looks up from his notes. The man must have seen what happened on the relay monitor. He forgot how kind Yaga was for this industry, he shot the man a grateful smile. “Get out of here, I expect you two back bright and early tomorrow, no more being late!”

“Aw, I always knew you were a big softy!” He cheers, watching as the man’s forehead creases with annoyance but the director doesn’t say anything else, shooing him away with a quick wave of his hand.

Satoru grins and turns back to hurry to his trainee’s side, that is until he feels someone fall in line with his steps. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that it’s the host following his path.

“I happened to overhear what happened with your little trainee.” The older man starts. “I’m not surprised that countryside nobody doesn’t have what it takes, but going home now is the same as quitting.” Ertegun says haughtily.

His muscles strain with how hard he is holding himself back, jaw set in a tight line as he listens to the host ramble on beside him, the older man unaware of his thinning patience.

“It doesn’t matter what Yaga says, if Itadori wants to make it in this world he needs to be able to push himself and keep filming.”

He stops in his tracks. “You know I’m getting real tired of your attitude.” The air fills with tension as the host also slows to a stop, mouth parted as if to say something, Satoru doesn’t give him a chance. “Maybe I should have you replaced.” He wonders aloud, watching as the host stiffens at this tone.

“You can’t-“

“Oh but I can, what do you think the execs will do if I say I refuse to participate anymore unless we get a new host.” He watches as the crows feet in the corner of the old man’s eyes deepen with shock. The host finally begins to understand the power he holds over him. If Satoru even hinted that he was trying to leave the entire studio would be falling over themselves to cater to his every whim.

Satoru turns back and continues his pace back to his trainee, the host left motionless behind him.

As he approaches the temporary setup for this week’s filming he sees that Nobara managed to get Yuuji to change out of the stiff uncomfortable clothing into the loose shorts and hoodie he must have arrived in. The boy is nursing a bottle of water in shaky hands and Satoru could not feel more grateful that Nobara was looking out for him.

There’s a vibration from his back pocket, Ichiji must be here. He doesn’t bother to check his phone and waves for the stylist's attention. The girl’s copper eyes snap towards him and nods, she then begins to guide Yuuji towards the exit where his manager was waiting for him.

It doesn’t take long to get Yuuji into the plush backseat, the boy carefully averting his eyes from his mentor. Satoru tries not to let it bother him, he knew Yuuji would be upset with him for not letting him finish the rest of the shoot, but this was for his own benefit.

When the door is closed and he’s sure the boy can’t hear him he turns his attention to his manager that is nervously glancing between the car and his employer, visibly concerned for the boy’s well being.

Satoru drops a hand on the man’s frail shoulder. “I’m trusting him with you Ichiji, take good care of him and don’t listen if he tells you to stop.”

Weary eyes take him in. “Are you not riding back with us?”

“No.” He says softly, eyes drifting to the back seat where Yuuji has curled away from the window. “I don’t think Yuuji wants to be near me right now.”

He forces down the bitter feeling and plasters a fake grin on his face. “I’m leaving him in your expert hands, if anything happens to him I’ll kill you.” The last part doesn’t feel like the joke it’s meant to be.

His manager nods with more resolve than he expected and enters the car driving the boy back home. As he watches the vehicle disappear down the road he can only hope that tomorrow is better.

It didn’t get better at all, Satoru thinks as he watches Yuuji agonizingly force himself through another set of poses in front of the camera.

Earlier that day Satoru had Ichiji wait at the boy’s apartment since six in the morning so Yuuji wouldn’t be able to take the metro without them knowing. He was only slightly shocked when the man didn’t complain about waking up earlier than normal. But considering how deeply Yuuji inspired others to care for him, it wasn’t surprising at all.

When Ichiji texted him that morning that Yuuji wasn’t looking well he rushed to the studio in order to beat the pair there. He wanted to see Yuuji for himself before Nobara could work her magic and hide anything from him.

He was already at the studio when the pair arrived, he had started driving as soon as he got the text from Ichiji and he might have broken a few traffic laws to get here before his manager. When Yuuji walked in and his worst fears were confirmed, the boy looked worse than the last two days combined. Pallid skin and deep purple bruises under his eyes, it looked like he didn’t get any sleep at all.

The boy was drenched in an oversized black hoodie and dark sweats yet he still looked cold, arms crossed and holding the soft fabric to himself. It was the middle of summer, even if they were in an air conditioned building there was no need for the boy to be shivering right now.

Satoru is quick to join his trainee’s side, a question dying on the tip of his tongue as the boy blows past him. He’s paralyzed for a moment before he’s able to gather his thoughts and watch Yuuji head straight back to the costuming department where Nobara is lounging on a makeup chair feet propped up on the vanity as she devours a donut. The girl startles when Yuuji reaches her side, a deep frown on her face.

He can’t make out the words from here but he can tell that the girl is scolding Yuuji for not taking care of himself. Even though her face is set in a stern line she gives up her seat and begins prepping the boy for makeup.

Yuuji didn’t talk to him at all until filming began.

Which led him to where he was now, watching Yuuji balance on top of a school desk in a backdrop that was made to look like a high school. The boy was styled in a preppy outfit that resembled a school uniform but played into the idol elements, a pink tie hung from his neck that he was lifting and adjusting as the photographer took dozens of photos.

Satoru can’t deny that Yuuji is trying his best, the boy follows Nobara’s instructions carefully and doesn’t zone out as much as he was the previous day, but that doesn’t hide the fact that he looks worse than the day before.

Even Nobara’s expertly applied makeup couldn’t mask it for long, foundation separating with the boy’s sweat making his face look cakey, the bags under his eyes only highlighted by the harsh lighting of the fill lights surrounding them. The only thing that clings to the boy’s face is the fake smile plastered across his lips, the one that doesn’t reach his tired eyes no matter how hard he tries.

A frown pulls at his lips as he watches the boy fumble to get off the desk as Nobara guides him through a new pose. His eyes are locked onto shaky hands and unsteady feet when Nobara softly calls out.

“Itadori?”

His gaze snaps to Yuuji’s face, the boy has a far away look in his eyes, lips parted as if to say something but not a single sound comes out. The boy grips the desk with a trembling hand and tries to take a step forward.

Without warning the boy drops to the floor in a heavy thud.

No one makes a sound and Satoru feels frozen in place before it all comes rushing to him in a burst. Nobara gasps and the photographer curses under his breath but Satoru is already halfway across the set before anyone can move.

He pushes the desk out of his way with a loud clatter, the noise barely registers as he’s dropping to his knees in front of prone form. He gathers the boy in his arms, surprised by how hot his skin felt under his touch. He brings a hand to push sweaty pink locks away from the boy’s face, his heart stopping as blood runs sluggishly down the side of the boy’s face.

“Yuuji,” His voice is soft as if trying to gently rouse the boy from sleep. There’s a quiet groan from the boy as dark lashes flutter revealing hazy brown eyes. “Yuuji!” He calls louder, caressing the side of the boy’s face rubbing his thumb along the delicate skin under his eyes. “Stay with me Yuuji, you’re going to be alright.”

He loops one arm around the boy’s small back and the other under the curve of his knees lifting him carefully in his arms. He needs to get to the infirmary immediately.

When he rises to his full height and looks around he immediately notices that he’s surrounded by cameras on all sides. Loud voices echoing around him that he doesn’t bother to listen to. His grip on Yuuji tightens and curls the boy closer to himself protectively, the whole studio must have rushed over when they heard that Yuuji collapsed. He tries to take a step forward but his path is blocked off by a man shoving a camera in the way, trying to get a good angle of the boy in his arms.

Rage builds, blood beginning to boil as the crew won’t let him past. When an extended lens almost hits the boy in his arms he snaps, snarling at the man closest to him and shoulder checks the man to the side. He pushes past before the gap can close and rushes Yuuji to the infirmary on site.

From the corner of his eye he sees the towering frame of Sukuna storm past him, a distraught look on his face. Satoru doesn’t have time to think about that, he’s just grateful the man is holding back the predatory cameramen desperate for anything sensational they could broadcast on the show.

The next moments pass in a blur as Satoru carries the boy through winding hallways to the on site medic. Soft murmurs the only thing that’s keeping him grounded as he presses the boy close to his chest just to feel his stuttering breaths against his own skin. He nearly kicks open the door startling the old woman sitting at her desk. He brushes past her without a word, delicately placing Yuuji on the empty cot in the room.

His heart hammers in chest as he takes in the boy’s small frame, the blood running from the cut on his brow has developed into a steady stream. He runs his thumb gently across the boy’s face trying to clear his skin of the substance. He watches detached as the blood gathers on his thumb staining his finger a matching shade of red.

Weathered hands nudge him out of the way and he nearly snaps until he notices it’s the medic. With a bit of effort he removes himself from Yuuji’s side and steps out into the hall, a shrill ringing in his ears.

Yaga is already outside waiting for him, he pushes past the man and slumps into a chair beside the infirmary, he pulls out his phone and begins dialing.

“That’s not necessary, you know, we have a fully trained medical team.”

Satoru ignores him and waits for Shoko to pick up on the other end, eyes locked on to the blood that's already flaking on his thumb. The director just lets out a sigh. “I’ll leave you alone for now, the crew won’t bother you anymore.” With that the man leaves.

He doesn’t care what Yaga says, he wants an expert to look over Yuuji, not whoever Head to Head happened to have on payroll. He needs someone he trusts to look after his trainee, and there was no one he trusted more than Shoko.

It doesn’t take long to convince the woman to abandon her own shoot nearby to check over his trainee, the woman has been dying to meet Yuuji in person for a while now. Though he wished it was under better circumstances.

Time passes at a crawl, he doesn’t know how long he’s been waiting outside the infirmary. All he knows is that the on site medic completed her examination and Satoru detested the results. He’s grateful when Shoko arrives, long hair tied back in a low ponytail and still dressed in the scrubs from the medical drama she starred in.

Silently he points to the infirmary, he can’t bring himself to look at Yuuji right now. Shoko scoffs as he rolls her eyes, he doesn’t let it bother him, he keeps his silent vigil out in the hall making sure that no one with a camera tries to intrude on his trainee.

His foot taps nervously beside him as he hears muffled voices coming from the room beside him. He can’t hear what is being said but he lets the thought that Yuuji is up and talking bring him comfort.

The murmurs fade after a few minutes and the door opens, Satoru snaps his head up towards his friend. “How is he?”

Shoko unties her hair to let the dark tresses free from their previous constraints. “He’s asleep right now, getting some much needed rest.” She takes a seat next to him and lets out a deep sigh. Satoru can feel his muscles begin to tense as the air surrounding the pair weighs on him heavily.

The woman next to him tells him the exact thing he didn’t want to hear, the same thing the on site medic said.

“Itadori passed out due to a combination of lack of nutrition and dehydration, it appears he’s been practicing a popular selective diet for idols these days.” She runs her hand through her hair. “It’s also apparent that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep, it seems like he’s trying to work himself into an early grave.”

Satoru bites his lip so hard it bleeds. How could this happen? When did this begin?

Shoko answers his question as if reading his mind. “Don’t work yourself up too much, by my estimate this couldn’t have been going on for longer than a week. That being said, eating less than eight hundred calories a day and excessively working out isn’t a good combination for any span of time, add to that the lack of sleep and I’m surprised he didn’t collapse sooner.”

The woman’s words ring in his mind, Yuuji was going through all of that? And he didn’t even realize? He knew something was wrong but not like this. Copper wells at the tip of his tongue where he was biting into his lip.

“He’ll be fine as long as he gets some proper rest and follows a steady diet.” Shoko leans back in her chair and considers the man next to her. “You care more for him than I thought you would.”

Memories of his time together with Yuuji floods his mind. The sweets they shared on their first outing together, the way Yuuji lashes fluttered closed as he allowed Satoru to feed him from his own spoon. The blinding smile Yuuji easily gave him at every opportunity, the one that lit a fire in Satoru’s chest and made him thankful he stuck around the industry long enough to meet the boy.

And most recently the memory playing on loop in his head was the surprised flushed look on the boy’s face when Satoru gently tied a ribbon around his neck. The delicate strip of fabric suspended in his grasp, quivering from the boy’s rapid pulse. Wide honey brown eyes hazing softly and pink lips parted.

A dark grin pulls at his lips. “He’s mine.”

“Scary.” Shoko mutters under her breath, but otherwise does nothing.

The two sit in silence for a moment before just appreciating the other’s company before Shoko breaks it. She stands up with a sigh. “My lunch break is just about over and I need to get back to set.” She pulls a slip of paper from her pocket and hands it to him. “You look happier now, he’s good for you. Don’t let him go.” With that she takes off down the hall, heels clacking on the tiled floor.

Satoru unfolds the note in his hand and sees it contains a diet plan for Yuuji, he smiles and tucks the note in his pocket. Shoko didn’t need to tell him, he’s already made up his mind.

Before he knows it he’s on his feet and entering the infirmary. He makes sure to close the door gently so he doesn’t disturb his trainee’s rest. The room is visibly empty besides the boy sleeping on the cot, his small frame was tucked under thin covers and all traces of makeup wiped from his face. That was probably Shoko’s doing, the woman could be considerate when she wanted to.

He takes a seat beside the boy, removing his blindfold so he could watch the slight rise and fall of the boy’s chest in full detail. The boy murmurs softly and shifts a clammy hand reaching out for the man beside him. Satoru takes the hand without thinking, rubbing gentle circles into the boy’s chilled skin.

Yuuji huffs quietly and a small smile pulls at his lips as if sensing he was safe with the man next to him. Satoru keeps caressing his hands to encourage that thought, he’s never going to let a mistake like this happen again, Yuuji will always be safe by his side.

Yuuji wakes up with a throbbing sensation behind his eyes and his body feeling sore and heavy. He tries blinking his eyes open but the harsh fluorescent lighting forces them closed again. Taking a deep breath he tries to gather his disjointed thoughts.

The last thing he remembered was sitting on a desk in class? No, he was posing for a photoshoot. That’s right, they were in the middle of shooting for Head to Head. Then what happened?

He remembers bright lights and sweat dripping down his back, his heart was hammering in his chest and he could barely see a foot in front of him, his whole body focused on posing for the camera. At one point Kugisaki called for him to change positions and he got off the desk, but when his foot touched the ground his body was enveloped in a hot flash, his vision went spotty and…

He must have passed out! His eyes fly open as he jerks forward with the realization, he doesn’t get far before his muscles start screaming in protest. He lets out a shaky sigh and settles back against the bed, eyes blearily scanning his surroundings.

The space is small, there’s only one bed which he is currently occupying, to his right there is a desk in the corner of the room and some cabinets holding basic medical supplies lining the walls. His gaze shifts to the left and startles at the sight.

A chair has been pulled to his bedside and his sensei’s form was hunched over, white lashes gently caressing the highs of his cheeks. His breath catches in his lungs as he takes in the sleeping figure beside him, how did he not notice the man before? Has he been here the whole time?

Yuuji worries about his bottom lip between his teeth, how long has it been out? Were they still filming, today was the last chance they had to get images for their promotion material! He grits his teeth in frustration, he is holding Gojo back yet again.

A flare of pain stings above his eye, with a hiss he tries to feel for a cut but realizes he can’t move his hand. His gaze shifts down and he can barely process what he’s seeing, his clammy hand in the much larger grasp of his mentor. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice before but now he’s keenly aware of every inch of his skin that's touching Gojo’s calloused hands. Without thinking he tries to pull his hand back, but the man’s hold doesn’t falter.

He’s too concerned with freeing himself that he doesn’t notice the man’s feathery lashes flutter open, crystalline blue eyes unfocused for just a moment before they widen.

“Yuuji!”

Using that moment of surprise he slips his hand out of his mentor's hold and grips the thin blanket covering him nervously, worried with how the man will act. Will he be mad that Yuuji ruined their chances at winning, he wouldn’t blame the man if that was the case.

“How are you feeling? Are you thirsty, hungry, sick? Do you want me to call the medic back?” The man practically yells as he crowds Yuuji’s space, practically falling out of his chair to question him. His head reels with the onslaught of questions, but with the man’s eyes on full display he can see how distraught the man is and it makes him feel even worse for thinking so lowly of his mentor.

Of course the man would be concerned with his well being, that's why he tried so hard to keep his new training regiment away from the man. He knew Gojo wouldn’t approve of his methods, but the man didn’t understand that he needed to work himself so hard because he wasn’t anywhere close to the idol’s level.

His eyes jolted down, suddenly he’s unable to look into those piercing blue eyes, he feels too exposed, like the other man can see his every flaw and imperfection.

“What are you doing here?” The question comes out harsher than he intended.

“What am I doing here?” Comes the incredulous voice beside him. “I’m here because you passed out on set!” Gojo’s fully out of his chair now, a large frame towering above him as the man breathes heavily.

Yuuji flinches at the sharp tone, hands balling white blankets into his fists, looking anywhere but at the man next to him. The hum of the air conditioner creates a layer of white noise that mirrors the static ringing in his ears, he swallows trying to distract himself from the overbearing silence but his mouth is too dry and he only ends up coughing.

There’s a rush of movement on his left followed by a plastic bottle entering his vision, it takes him a moment to process what is happening but the burning of his throat figures it out for him. With hands that won’t stop shaking he takes the bottle from his mentor’s grasp. He slowly uncaps the bottle and drinks his fill, the chilled water is heaven to his exhausted senses and he barely notices that Gojo has settled back in the chair next to him.

All too soon he’s drained the contents of the bottle and he has nothing to distract himself from the man that is watching him intently. He sets the empty bottle aside and can’t help but wonder why Gojo is still here.

As if reading his mind the man lets out a deep sigh, the sudden noise draws his attention and he’s met with a pinched expression and pleading blue eyes. “Why,” The man starts, his voice achingly soft. “Why were you overworking yourself?”

He tries to keep his expression under control but he can feel his eyes widen in shock and his body begin to tense. Did Gojo know? He tries reading the man’s expression but he falters when he sees the vast blue is clouded with displeasure. He ducks his head down immediately, Gojo definitely knows.

“What made you think you needed to do this? Did I make you feel like you weren’t enough?” Yuuji is surprised by the devastation in the man’s tone, the slight shake to the usually smooth voice was almost impossible to believe.

“No!” His heart pounds in his chest, he never wanted Gojo to think that this was his fault, it was all Yuuji’s. “I didn’t want to burden you! You’ve done so much for me, but I still kept losing. I wanted to pull my own weight so I would stop holding you back.” The words tumble from his mouth in a rush.

There’s a sharp intake of breath. “A burden? Why would you think that?” The man’s voice is so distraught that he feels like he has no choice but to answer honestly.

“I know I wasn’t your first choice for a trainee.” The words are bitter on his tongue, he knew that going into this but now it’s like a strike to his heart. “But you picked me anyway and you gave me the chance to get close with Sukuna again, something I never thought I would be able to do. You’ve been helping me in so many ways, I’ll never be able to repay your kindness. So I wanted to work hard and prove that you made the right decision in choosing me!”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “But I keep failing, any time we lose it’s always my fault. I can’t help but feel like I’m preventing you from the win you deserve, my effort is useless. I’m not cut out for this.” His voice begins to waver. “Someone as talentless as me shouldn’t be with you.”

There’s a thunderous slam beside him, he can’t help but flinching at the noise, eyes trailing to his bedside table where Gojo’s fist connected with. He follows the tense line of his arm to the absolutely enraged look on his mentor's face. For a moment he worries the anger is directed towards him.

“Who?” The word barely makes it past gritted teeth. The closed fist is trembling with barely concealed rage. “Who put those ideas in your head?”

He’s so surprised to see such an incensed look on his normally jovial mentor’s face that he answers without thinking.

“It was Sukuna.” His eyes widened as the words passed his lips, he didn’t mean to say that!

The endless blue begins to ice over, the man beside him going still with the information. He startles at the sudden quiet taking over the man’s frame. “Don’t be mad!” He hurries to say, trying to sit up with some effort. “Sukuna was just telling me what I needed to hear!”

That wasn’t the right thing to say, judging by how that icy storm was turned on him.

“What you needed to hear!?” The man snaps, large hands gripping the railing framing the bed so hard it begins to creek. “None of that is true!” The raging storm in the man’s eyes begins to calm, the icy stare thawing as the hard line of Gojo’s face softens into something more open. “You’re the perfect trainee, I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

His breath hitches at the man’s sincere tone, but his mentor doesn’t stop there.

“Even though you know nothing about being an idol you give your all to anything set in front of you, you’re kind and selfless. You have a natural charm that any idol would kill for. Talentless? No, you worked hard to be here, even harder than you need to.”

Yuuji feels his face beginning to burn from the sincere compliments, his heart beating rapidly in his chest at the words of his mentor. The man keeps going but he doesn’t think he can handle it anymore. “Stop! I get it.” He cries, face on fire.

The man quiets his soft look fading into something more somber, Yuuji’s breath hitches as the light air around them thickens.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Yuuji is surprised the man doesn’t just ask immediately but he nods anyway, he doesn’t want to keep anything from his mentor any longer.

“Why are you trying to fix your relationship with Sukuna anyways, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. Wouldn’t you be better off without a guy like that in your life?” The man’s tone is bitter but Yuuji can’t blame him, his brother had a way of getting under people’s skin.

The question hurts but only because he knows how true it is, he knows now more than ever that Sukuna doesn’t want him in his life. He sinks further into the stuff mat of the hospital bed, rubbing thin sheets between his fingers as he really thinks. The man lets him gather his thoughts.

“You know, being sick like this reminds me of when I was younger.” He starts, his mind shifting back to when he was just a little kid still living with his grandfather and Sukuna. “I don’t remember much but I was really sick, I couldn’t do much but lie in bed. Jii-chan was out working so Sukuna had to look after me.”

“Something tells me Sukuna wouldn’t make a good bedside nurse.” Gojo chimes in.

He laughs softly at the mental image but shakes his head. “Mm, I remember being in so much pain I could barely think but Sukuna was always right at my side. He was just a kid at that point, he didn’t know how to make my sickness go away.” He vaguely remembers the worried expression on his older brother’s face, how Sukuna would wipe away his sweat and watch over him anxiously.

“So he did the only thing he knew how to do, he started singing for me.” He smiles softly at his fondest memory of his brother. The way Sukuna pet his hair and sang for him so sweetly just to distract the boy from his pain, he can almost feel the phantom touch now. “When Sukuna began singing I suddenly felt so much better, being there with him, it was like nothing could hurt me at all. That’s what really inspired me to create music, I wanted to help people forget about their pain even for a moment, just like Sukuna did for me.”

“I got over my sickness soon after that, it wasn’t anything too serious, but Sukuna and I never had a lot of chances to be close like that again. But I’ll never forget how he cared for me, even if we weren’t close we had our moments.” He falters, “But Sukuna’s not like that anymore, sometimes I can’t even recognize him because he’s so different.”

Heat pricks behind his eyes, he breathes deeply willing the impending tears away. “I just miss my brother.” He can’t help but let out, the words heavy on his tongue. Tears begin rolling down his cheeks at the admission.

He tries to wipe them away but his mentor’s thumb is already wiping a soothing line under his eye. His cheeks begin to burn and he tries to pull his head back but Gojo’s strong hand keeps him in place. He’s embarrassed but he can’t help but feel content in the man’s steady grasp, he feels guilty for enjoying the comfort.

“I’m sorry.”

A thumb brushes softly against his cheek. “Why?” The man’s voice is soft and doesn’t reveal anything.

He swallows and presses on. “You must regret picking-“

Gojo stops him with both hands coming to his face so he can’t look away from the man’s piercing gaze. “Stop, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but stop it.” He removes his hands when it’s clear Yuuji won’t move. “I don’t want to train anyone other than Yuuji. I asked you to become mine and you did, you’ve done so much for me, things I never even asks of you.” The man’s full lips twist into a frown, but it doesn’t stay long. “I should have said it before but I’m telling you now.” Gojo’s voice carries an impossible weight, heavy with importance like he wants Yuuji to understand his next words no matter what.

“I’m yours.”

Yuuji’s breath catches, eyes locked onto an unearthly blue. “Stop worrying about what other people say, especially that man, my opinion is the only one that matters. You don’t need to try so hard, start relying on me.”

“But the show! I can’t just-” Yuuji starts, already halfway sitting up.

Gojo cuts him off before he can say anything else. “This might be a competition show between me and Sukuna but I can’t do this without you, so it’s your victory as well. In fact it’s even more important for you since you’re trying to deliver an important message, right?”

He gasps, eyes widening.

“Not that I agree, I don’t think Sukuna deserves your effort, but if this is what Yuuji wants I’ll help you. We’re a team after all.” The man grins at his surprised face, a gentle hand on his shoulder pushing him back into the mattress. “Now get some rest, we’re going to do this the right way from now on. No more secrets, no more Yuuji working on his own.”

More tears build at the corner of his eyes but Gojo is right there before they can even fall, Yuuji exhausted from the lack of sleep catching up to him and the mental exhaustion doesn’t have the strength to stop himself from grabbing his mentor’s hand and pushing himself further into the man’s comforting palm. The weight is comforting against his skin and he can feel his eyelids begin to grow heavier with each passing second.

“Thank you.” He manages to get out, the words a soft whisper. He’s unable to keep his eyes open any longer and the last thing he sees before he succumbs to sleep is a bittersweet smile on his mentor's face.

Satoru run’s his hand through soft pink tresses, eyes locked onto the sleeping form of his trainee. Their previous conversation played on a loop in his head, the frustration that was splayed across the boy’s face and the desperation in his voice. He didn’t realize that Yuuji had felt so inferior this whole time.

His perfect adorable trainee thought that he wasn’t enough for Satoru. He frowns and his hand continues to run a comforting pattern in the boy’s hair, a soft murmur breaks through as pink tresses are pushed further into his hand. Satoru smiles softly even though his heart feels like it’s about to break.

His eyes trail across the boy’s gentle sleeping face, the natural flush of his cheeks has started to return but the dark bruises still stain the delicate skin beneath sooty lashes. The skin around the boy’s eyes is puffy and red, irritated from the tears that were shed not too long ago. Satoru grits his teeth as he brings a thumb to caress the discoloration softly, a ghost of a touch just barely kissing the skin. He never wants to see Yuuji cry again.

Watching the tears pour down his trainee’s face was a stab to his heart, each drop reminding him that he wasn’t there for Yuuji like he promised.

There’s no denying his feelings now, he’s in love with Yuuji, he probably has been for a while. He can’t bring himself to care about the morality of it. He’s never been one to hold back on what he wants, and he wants Yuuji. He wants the boy more than he could possibly imagine.

He wants to see Yuuji smile and laugh, and have fun with his friends. He wants to see the boy happy and living out his dreams. And more than anything he wants to be the one that gives Yuuji everything he wants.

With one last lingering look towards his trainee he gets out of his seat, he doesn’t want to leave but he needs to talk with Yaga about extending their time for shooting. He doesn’t know if continuing the show is the best choice for Yuuji but he knows how much the boy wants it, and Satoru could never deny him anything.

He runs his hand through pink curls one last time and is unable to stop himself from leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead. It takes considerable effort to walk away from the sleeping boy but he resolves to return before the boy wakes and leaves the room.

Entering the hallway he’s greeted with the hulking frame of Sukuna leaned against the wall, arms crossed and face tilted down. The man doesn’t seem to notice his appearance. Satoru closes the door in one swift motion, not wanting the man to see Yuuji even for a second.

As Satoru is confronted with bulging muscles and dark tattoos he can’t help but recall what Yuuji said. How the boy claimed he was a burden and useless, his soft voice shaking with hurt as he parroted the words of the very man standing in front of him.

This was all Sukuna’s doing. Yuuji was lying in that hospital bed because of his older brother. Yuuji distanced and overworked himself all because of the cruel words of this man. If Satoru thought he disliked Sukuna before, he absolutely despises him now.

His anger builds the longer he looks at the man, Sukuna has no right to look so distraught standing outside of the infirmary when he was the one that put Yuuji there in the first place. “What are you doing here?” He bites out, voice dangerous as it echoes down the hall.

Crimson eyes snap towards his direction and thick black lines pinch and curl as the man sneers at him but he doesn’t respond to Satoru’s question. That just pisses him off even more.

“You’re a selfish piece of shit you know?” He takes a step forward crowding into Sukuna’s face. “This is all your fault.” He delights in the way the man’s face drops, devastation flashing across hardened features. He doesn’t stop there, his voice is low, more a warning growl than words when he says, “Stay away from Yuuji.”

That’s what snaps the man into action as broad shoulders tense, hackles raised. Sukuna matches the tone with a snarl of his own. “You don’t get to tell me to stay away from my brother!” A heavy boot steps forward, a thick finger is pressed to his chest. “You have a lot of nerve saying that when you’re the one stringing the brat along, playing with his feelings because you want to get back at me for taking Megumi from you.”

Satoru grits his teeth, jaw clenched so hard he can feel the muscles pulsing under his skin. Is that what Sukuna told Yuuji, that he was using his affections to manipulate him, that he didn’t care for his trainee?

Confronted with the man that ruined Yuuji’s self esteem he can’t hold himself back any longer. In a flash of movement too quick to follow he reels his fist back and sends it flying towards Sukuna’s smug face, soft tissue and tendons under his hand.

There’s a loud crack as his fist connects with the man’s cheek. Sukuna isn’t expecting it and goes careening back into the wall. He shakes his hand out and grins, feeling viciously pleased at the shocked and enraged look on Sukuna’s face.

The man is quick to gather himself, rubbing the back of his hand along his bruising cheek and spitting out a mix of blood and saliva onto the tiled floor by Satoru’s foot. He doesn’t budge.

Crimson eyes narrow as the lock onto his frame, confusion evident on his features. Sukuna cracks his neck, a tanned hand grips the back of a strong neck rubbing the skin there as he loosens his muscles preparing for a fight. “Why are you so pissed off old man, I’m just telling the truth.”

Satoru listens with a detached sort of interest expecting the man to retaliate soon. What he doesn’t expect is for Sukuna’s face to suddenly go blank as he carefully considers the man in front of him as if seeing him for the first time.

Red eyes light with an instant realization and that blank expression twists into an enraged snarl. The level of anger momentarily shocks him, he wasn’t expecting this amount of pure unbridled fury to come from the man.

Sukuna drops his head, shadows covering his features and abruptly slams the back of his fist into the wall behind him, punching a hole clean into the drywall, he doesn’t flinch as blood begins to sluggishly run down his split knuckles. “You actually like him back.” The man mutters under his breath but Satoru is too confused by the sudden turn of events to really think about what the man is saying.

He tenses when Sukuna’s head snaps up red eyes piercing Satoru’s. “That’s my little brother!”

His eyes narrow watching the trembling frame of the man before him, expecting the man to jump at any moment, but that doesn’t stop him from being an asshole either. “I’m aware. I’m surprised you remembered, considering how horribly you treat him.”

Sukuna doesn’t take the bait.

“He’s fifteen.” The look on the man’s face is deranged.

A sudden calm washes over him as he realizes what’s happening. Sukuna is surprisingly observant for being such a meat head, but he could never beat Satoru when it came to reading people. He considers the raging man before him with a new sense of understanding, a part of him thinks he should be disgusted but he isn’t. It almost isn’t a surprise at all that Sukuna is in love with his own brother.

“That hasn’t stopped you, nii-san.” He taunts.

Sukuna comes flying at him just like he expected, murder in his eyes and a fist flying towards his face. Satoru is quick to grab the man’s arm and redirect the charging bull into the wall with a loud slam. Sukuna barely notices, teeth bared and rushing at him once more.

Satoru lets his own anger take over, this was the man that abandoned Yuuji for years, the one that constantly put down the only person on earth who could care for the selfish man, there was no way Satoru wasn’t taking this opportunity to beat the shit out of him.

He ducks past another fist rocketing towards his face and unleashes his own towards Sukuna’s unguarded side. There’s a sharp cough and Satoru know’s he’s knocked the wind out of the man’s lungs.

There's a murmur that gathers into a loud roar at the end of the hall and Satoru knows he doesn’t have long until someone tries to intervene. Yuuji’s small frame laying in that bleak room flashes behind his eyes. He grabs Sukuna’s head and slams it into the wall grinning darkly when he hears a sickening crunch.

Sukuna struggles in his grasp but Satoru doesn’t let up, he pushes the man further into the wall holding him there so he can’t retaliate. He can feel his hand vibrate, the massive form under his grasp shaking and snarling like some kind of rabid animal, he just pushes the man into the wall harder.

Thunderous footsteps come pounding down the hall and Satoru knows his time is up, with his last moment alone with Sukuna he leans into the man’s face, whispering in his ear so no one else can overhear him. “I don’t care about your feelings for your brother, as I’m not much different.” The man struggles in his grip, going as far trying to bite him, Satoru just tightens his hold. “But I’m not a coward like you, I’m going to take what I want, and you’re going to watch me.”

“Gojo!” Yaga’s voice drowns out whatever response the man beneath him had.

Satoru abruptly lets go of Sukuna and takes great pleasure in watching him fumble trying to get to his feet. A crimson glare is burning a hole through his head but Sukuna can’t do anything as the director and a swarm of security has arrived in the narrow hall outside the infirmary.

“Just what the hell is going on here!?” The director yells looking between the two men, security cautiously eyeing them.

Satoru shrugs, hiding his scraped knuckles in the pockets of his slacks. “Sorry Yaga, me and Sukuna were just having a conversation that got a little heated. But we’re all good now.” He grins.

The director's dark eyes scan the area, the hole in the wall and the blood running down Sukuna’s face and dripping onto the floor. Satoru smirks viciously and silently daring Yaga to say something, knowing the man couldn’t kick him off of the show no matter what he did, Satoru was too valuable to lose.

The director huffs, realizing he’s stuck. Since the two aren’t fighting anymore he can’t do anything. “You’re too old for this kind of shit Gojo.” The director sighs, running a hand down his face. “And Ryomen, you better watch yourself or we might have to take you off the show.”

Sukuna scowls, red eyes dipping to the door where Yuuji is resting behind. He nods stiffly and brushes past the two men with a scowl on his face.

Yaga lets out a bone deep sigh. “I’m retiring after this.” The director waves off the security team and tells the crew peeking down the corner of the hall to get back to work.Just as the man is about to leave Satoru calls out stopping the man halfway down the hall.

“Hey, give me and Yuuji extra time tomorrow to finish shooting.” He demands.

Yaga turns back with a fierce glare on his face but it quickly shifts into resigned expression. “Fine, who am I to stop you, I’m just the director.” He scowls. “You’ll have to take all your own photos Mainty’s photographers are leaving today to matter what.”

Satoru waves him off, uncaring about the details, he’s just happy to secure some extra time for his trainee. Yaga leaves before he can demand anything else and Satoru finds himself back in the infirmary sitting at Yuuji’s bedside.

He grabs the boy’s small hand peeking out from under the covers, a smile crossing his face as Yuuji shifts closer to him with a soft hum.

He learned a lot more today than he was expecting to, now that he understands Sukuna’s feelings towards the boy in front of him, he realizes that Sukuna’s attitude towards Yuuji must be his twisted way of trying to push the boy away. He still isn’t sure why. But the reason doesn’t matter to him, Sukuna is hurting his trainee and Satoru refuses to let anything hurt Yuuji ever again.