Chapter Text
He'd try borrowing, but he's not particularly close with anyone at school. Junpei might help him out with some pocket money given to him by his mother. Although, what is seven thousand yen, compared to ten million that he owed to pay back?
Selling the house wouldn't have solved anything -he'd have no debt, but also no roof over his head. Yuji looks up at the starry sky, melancholy drifting through his body as he fights with the grief ever so present at the back of his mind. Wasuke died weeks ago and Yuji misses him more than he lets on. He wasn't afraid of the debt collectors when he was little -so young and small that he could hide behind Wasuke and peek from behind his legs to get a glimpse of the muscular men that visited them every month.
His grandpa was a good person. The same couldn't be said about his parents, whose marriage brought nothing but trouble to the family. Kaori was careless with money and Jin let her do whatever she pleased with their shared savings. He was good at reassuring Wasuke that he knew what he was doing when marrying a woman with high standards. He promised to pay for everything she wanted, but Kaori spent money faster than any man could ever earn.
Wasuke sold her belongings after her death. They weren't enough, since much of the money disappeared into thin air. She crashed at least two expensive cars, gambled away what she received from the insurance company and damaged the luxury clothing items she bought. Wasuke sold the apartment Jin and Kaori lived in and took Yuji under his wing. He paid as much as he could in monthly installments, however, the interest rose and they got stuck in place.
One step forward, two steps back. Renouncing the inheritance to avoid the debt was not an option when they were borrowing from yakuza. Kaori accepted the gangsters' offer happily, when she found out that she couldn't borrow any more money from the bank, due to her poor credit history. That woman went for every single bad decision possible, with the carefree attitude of someone who was yet to face any serious consequences in their life.
And she didn't. She enjoyed the lavish lifestyle and met no consequences in the end.
Itadori's gaze lingers on the group of people coming out of the nightclub on his left. College students. He can't help the thought that he might not live up to that age if he doesn't pay what he owes. He's been using gambling to double his money, which started when he was in a desperate position and went on when he saw how good he was at it. His luck ran out the other night and he lost the money for the first time ever.
The man dozing off on the stairs to a host club catches his attention. The downtown is littered with those kinds of places and this one is the mildest level of entertainment. Men flirting with women for money sounds like a better deal than women stripping down and dancing or sleeping with men. Unfortunately, he's not popular with the opposite sex. The stranger looks rich, based on his clothes and how well-kept he is. If it wasn't for that, one might confuse him for a homeless person.
Guess Yuji isn't the only one who reached rock bottom tonight. It hasn't ever been this bad for him -bad enough so that he'd sleep on the street on a cold, autumn night. He looks drunk and dizzy.
Itadori walks past him after the shortest, thoughtful pause. What is it to him anyway if this man gets home safely or not? They don't know each other and he doesn't need this side task right now. His priority is arriving home soon and getting some sleep before tomorrow's classes.
Coaxing women into buying expensive bottles of alcohol and drinking it with them is a big part of his job, so it can't be that rare for this guy to get blackout drunk and sleep on the street. Yuji would bet anything on it.
On the other hand, he should stop placing bets. Nothing good comes out of it.
'What if this is the night where he doesn't make it? He might've been fine all the other times, but the temperature is supposed to lower significantly tonight and he has no jacket on. He can't feel the cold because of the alcohol. What about tomorrow morning? You could've helped him, but you didn't.'
He comes right back to the entrance of the host club. The white-haired man is resting his head against the wall, about to slip off the stairs and roll onto the trash lying on the sidewalk.
"Hey, you," Itadori shakes his shoulder to get his attention.
It's like the guy's eyes are stuck together with glue. A few, heavy blinks and he's asleep again, snoring quietly. Yuji holds him in a stable position as he gives it another go and shakes the man again.
"Augh.. s..top," he slurs. "I'm g..nna throw u..p."
The warning works on Yuji. He decides to be more gentle.
"What's your name?"
"Do I know you..?" the man drags the words out in a playful tone.
"No, but I want to help you. Can you get up?"
"Can I..~" he sings under his breath.
His legs are so long. It has to be a combined effort if it's supposed to work out. "Move, please," Yuji grunts, lifting the bigger guy. His fingers are wrapped around the host's wrist, while his other hand is placed firmly on the man's side.
He'd never handled anything or anyone this heavy. It's a suffocating weight and the host is sleeping like a baby, his chin on top of Yuji's head. Looks like he bit more than he can chew with this one.
"My name's Satoru," Yuji hears all of a sudden.
So he's not asleep after all. Lazy prick. Itadori adjusts his hold and gives him a quick heads up: "I can't give you a piggyback ride. Move your legs if you want to get home."
"Y.. don't have to hel..p me."
"I'm doing it for peace of mind. Not for you. Where's your phone?" Yuji searches through the man's pockets. He finds it in seconds, but that's the rest doesn't go as smoothly. "Password?" he asks, flashing the host with the bright screen on his phone.
"No, thanks."
"Give me the password so I can call someone you know to pick you up."
"Nooo... ugh."
"Oh my god," Yuji murmurs. He'll have to give up on this bundle of misfortune if he keeps acting like this. One, last chance. "Where do you live? Can you give me the address?"
"Heading to my place? Ha.. ha!" Satoru laughs at who knows what. The laughing fit ends in a hiccup.
Yuji checks Satoru's belongings again, looking for keys. The action elicits a hum out of the guy. He hovers over Yuji, while the boy digs deep into the pockets of his pants. He hasn't looked there before, expecting this exact reaction.
"Dunno if it's gonna stand up," he mumbles, all wobbly.
Itadori looks him straight in the eyes. "Make sure it doesn't."
He finds a wallet too, which the man snatches from him in a drunken haze. He pulls some money out and waves it in front of Yuji. "Buy yourself something nice."
Itadori takes it. They need money for the cab. He put too much energy into this to abandon the guy now. Yuji presses him against the brick wall, cups his face and demands: "Address."
"Whaaat?" Satoru asks, like it's the first time he hears this word.
"What do I say to the taxi driver?"
"I'll tell you if you solve my riddle," he manages to say, clearer than before. "What's white now.. and gonna be green in a min..ute."
"..."
"Me. I'm gonna throw u-"
Satoru bends in half and does as he just said. Yuji steps aside and pats his back. "Yeah, yeah. Let it out."
His puke is just this see-through, yellow liquid. He hasn't eaten in hours. One good thing that comes out of this, is that he somewhat sobers up and tells Yuji the address. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his suit as they enter the car.
He doesn't live too far away. The place Satoru informed him about is a hotel, so they have to pass by a receptionist and other staff on their way to the room. Satoru talks loudly and sings ballads, drawing so much attention that Yuji considers elbowing him in the stomach and telling him to shut up. He has no patience for drunk, obnoxious people, but it's mostly the hunger that makes him irritable.
His money lasts to pay the bills and satisfy the debt collectors, and that's still generous. Running away any time he sees a suspicious, buff man has become an impulse. They're trying to squeeze more cash out of him and it's like twisting a dry rag and expecting water to drip out of it. He has nothing more to give. Nothing. Junpei shares his food with him when he's too broke to afford a meal.
The hotel room is as gorgeous as the lobby's design promised. Everything, from the exterior to the inside of the building screams wealth.
Yuji shrugs Satoru off, and the man settles on the bed, his limbs moving as flowy as water. His furrow softened and he looks like he's feeling better in the comfort of his hotel room. This is all Yuji wanted to see. It makes up for all the energy it took him to bring the drunkard home. He'd like someone to do the same for him if he ever reached a point where he couldn't walk on his own anymore.
His irritation with Satoru dissolves. He finds a blanket and covers the man, then pours water into a tall glass that he leaves on the nightstand. The chances that they'll meet again are slim, and the man is sleeping so deeply that he probably can't hear him, but Yuji feels like he needs to say something before he leaves. He looks down at Satoru's sleeping face and realizes how sorry he is for him.
"Take care of yourself, Satoru-san."
He let his guard down, having associated yakuza with a specific appearance. Those students almost got him.
It's a black-haired teen with serious eye bags and a younger girl with a mole on her chin. They're chasing him down the hill leading to his high school and if Yuji's eyes didn't betray him, the boy was holding a katana.
Is this an assassination mission? Has he fucked up this badly? He's late with the other month's payment and it's not the first time that he has put it off, but come on! Have some imagination, people.
He expects no special treatment just because they're peers and he'd plead when them if only they stopped to listen. Adrenaline makes it hard for him to think. Those men they sent after him before were a piece of cake -old meatheads he'd lose in the crowd in two minutes. He didn't know what fear was before he met his new debt collectors.
Yuji does anything to lose them, disappear from their sight for even a second to lift his chances of escaping. The black-haired is on his tail the whole time, practically breathing on his neck. They won't kill him in broad daylight, right? He's breathing hard, partly due to the stress of having to make quick decisions. Would it be safe to blend into the crowd or choose one of the back alleys? And where is the girl that he saw not too long ago?
He's bumping into people and getting yelled at at every step. Someone spilled their drink on themselves at the impact and looked like they wanted to rip his head off.
"I'm sorry!" Yuji apologizes on the run.
The mole girl materializes in front of him and his reflex lets him escape her by disappearing in the darkness between the two, nearest buildings.
It smells like mold and spider webs. Yuji runs towards the dead end, jumps on the trash container and leaps onto the freedom on the other side of the wall. He lands on grass, quickly analyzes his surroundings -the hum of water and distant honking. Yuji stops for what feels like a millisecond, but costs him the tiny distance he created between himself and the teens.
His eyes water and the stinging pain spreads through the right side of his face at the speed of light -faster than he registers getting punched. Yuji assumes his attacker to be the guy, but he arrives later than the girl he meets eyes with. She has the sweetest voice and the raw strength of a man.
"Nice to meet you, Yuji-kun," she chirps.
His gums and tongue are bleeding, but thankfully, his teeth are intact. The gap between his and their experience is metaphorically and literally painful. It's the very reason why she caught up to him and landed an effortless, yet powerful punch. Yuji covers his mouth with his hand.
"Hold him for me, Rika."
His skin prickles at the coldness of the blade against his neck. It's positioned above his Adam's apple and Yuji doesn't fight it, reminding himself that it'd take Rika one, swift move to end his life.
"Don't do it," he lets out, though gritted teeth. The guy's eyes look crazy and Yuji has no hope that he could talk any sense to him.
He hears a quiet giggle and then a whisper. "Yuta.. he's shivering."
It's true. It's a surprise to Yuji himself -one of two, actually. The other one is that it sounds like Rika is getting off on his fear somehow. She makes him kneel before Yuta, and Yuji thinks to himself: 'I wish they had gotten it done before, not after classes. I would've spent my time better if I knew I'd have this kind of fun afternoon.'
"Give me a reason not to kill you."
Yuji closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Because it's not my debt."
"Your family's, which makes it yours."
"I have no way to pay it off," Yuji says. "But I'd be even more useless as a corpse."
"It's not a matter of usefulness. You disrespected us."
"I've been running away because I didn't want to get killed."
Yuta is as unmoving as a mannequin. "I could cut your heart open and make it end. Would you like that?"
"All that I want to cut off are my parents. Why do I have to pay for their mistakes? I'll sell the house and the money is yours, okay? Let me leave the past behind."
"I don't like the way you're thinking about your family. They will always be connected to you. There's no way to cut ties and escape, Yuji. You're lost because of how loose your morals are."
Creepy. Not everyone has yakuza values and has been brought up in a cult-like environment. It's scary to think about the brainwashing they went through to be willing to kill for their boss.. or 'father.' Whichever they want to call him.
"You're too harsh on him," Rika says.
"He's no good. We can't take him in."
"I can see some potential."
Yuta's dark, blue eyes sweep smoothly from Rika to Yuji. He's gripping his katana, entirely expressionless.
"He doesn't know what obedience is."
"Oh, we could teach him."
"He'll betray us at the first opportunity he gets. Just wait till he gathers information and seeks refuge in another group."
"We'll cross the bridge when we get to it," she calms him.
His life is in those teenagers' hands. It all depends on Yuta's mood and Rika's capability to soften him up and make him sympathize with their target.
Yuji can't read anything from Yuta's non-verbal response, but getting kicked in the face is unlikely to mean that the guy is warming up to him.
The smell of candles and old paper makes him think of the library. He so wishes he could get woken up by an older librarian who'd tell him that he lost consciousness out of nowhere and that all that happened before was just a dream.
White hair? Check. Glasses? More like shades, but he's not picky. A wool sweater? Ehh.. No, a kimono.
No matter how he looks at it, it's not a librarian and the place doesn't smell like paper because of the books but the talismans that someone has manically attached to every surface of the room. No windows in sight and the candles pose a fire hazard. Is this another attempt on his life?
"What did I do again?" Yuji asks. His hands are tied behind his back and he can't come up with any reason the host might've kidnapped him.
"You're quick at forgetting. Does ten million yen ring a bell?"
Three words were enough to pull him back into survival mode. That host he brought home was one of the debt collectors and he went ahead and helped him like an idiot.
His jaw is on the floor. "Satoru-san, I..-"
"You know my name?"
Is he joking right now? Yuji thinks about introducing himself as the person who saved his skin the other time, but he makes himself stop and view this situation through Satoru's lenses. He was a pathetic, wasted mess that night. A respected man like him would want any witnesses to take it to the grave.
"That's what they called you. Unless they weren't talking about you."
"I imagine they were talking shit and complaining behind my back. To be honest, it was my job to threaten you, but I was feeling lazy, so I sent the kids."
"Is this the room where you make sacrifices for the gods?" Yuji asks, without a trace of humor.
Satoru crosses his legs. "Funny story. My friend used to live here."
"Before he got sacrificed?"
"The interesting and bold design was his choice. Quite stylish, don't you think?"
"It's pretty cool," Yuji agrees.
"He went crazy and left about a year ago."
"Good to hear that he's alive."
"We don't know that," Satoru shrugs. "Poor mental health and living far from civilization don't mix well."
"You didn't try to stop him?"
"People don't usually give others a heads-up before disappearing without a trace."
He doesn't know what to think about it anymore. Yuji finds himself unnecessarily invested. "So.. " he looks around, "he believed in ghosts and evil spirits, or something like that?"
"Yes, but let's get back on the right track and talk about you," Satoru turns his hand palm-up and points at him in a nonchalant manner. "What are your beliefs and values? Would you call yourself a loyal person? I heard that you haven't sold your grandpa's house yet. Was it out of sentiment or fear of homelessness, really. See, I'm trying to find a way to judge your character, but is there any dependable information?"
Yuji can't think about anything on the go. What makes him loyal, or at least not prone to betraying others?
"I'm loyal to those whom I love and respect. I assume you don't want someone who's obedient out of fear."
"Corrent. You can't be influenced by threats if we can trust that you wouldn't rat us out under pressure."
He can't find it in himself to beg for his life and spout lies to seem like the best candidate for an ally. Truthfully, he can't imagine himself as a yakuza member.
Seeing his hesitance, Satoru continues: "Some people have greed written all over their face. We have a few group members that we don't fully trust, but they earned their position through hard work. You could be one of them."
"What would I have to do?"
"You'll see. The others are gonna teach you everything."
His stomach churns at the thought of harming other people at his boss's order. He can't give Satoru an enthusiastic response.
"Do you want to live or not?"
Yuji lifts his eyes. "I do."
The man loosens the rope around his wrists and then, while Yuji rubs the sore skin, throws him something to change into. It's a kimono, similar to the one Satoru is wearing.
"I should have sandals somewhere too."
"Just like that?"
"Hm?"
"Am I a part of the group?"
"You haven't met the boss yet."
Yuji knows that tone. He's holding back from looking down at him for not knowing those things. The question would've sounded dumb to anyone who knows at least a bit about the organization.
"I thought it was you."
"Flattering, but no. Maybe in ten years."
Host Satoru and yakuza member Satoru are two different people in Yuji's mind. He thinks about the people he passes on the street every day on his way to school and asks himself 'How many of them have secret identities?'
He finishes dressing up as Satoru blows the last candle. The man gets a grip on his forearm and leads him out of the room. The contact ends as quickly as it got initiated and Satoru walks ahead of him to show him the way.
"You'll earn a lot if you do your job well. Your personal expenses will be covered by your paycheck, though, so don't expect to erase that debt any time soon. You'll get a room and three meals a day. Sounds good?"
"Yes."
The mansion looks frozen in time. If someone told Yuji that he got teleported to the past, he would've believed them. White, plaster walls, dark, wooden beams, sliding shoji screens. The floor is smooth and glistening, polished better than most that Yuji had seen. Someone is taking care of this place and although it's old, it doesn't feel like it. It smells like essential oils and the pine trees that grow behind the windows.
Yuji slows down to take a look at the calligraphy scrolls on the walls. A covered wooden corridor bridge connects two wings of the mansion and it makes no impression on Satoru, but Yuji can't help his awe at the sight of the garden and everything within it. He can't see clearly in the darkness of the late evening, yet it adds a certain charm to everything he spots-the pond, bushes, and golden glow of the lanterns. The stepping-stone pathway is overgrown with moss and the last thing Yuji gets to see is the gravel poured right by the tall, wooden gate.
They pass the bridge faster than Yuji hoped. Soon, they enter a room full of stuffed animals and all sorts of toys that look to be made by hand. The owner doesn't greet them when they arrive and Yuji opens his mouth to do so first. Instead, Satoru makes him kneel and lower his head to the floor in utmost respect. He'll do the talking.
"I brought him, Yaga-san."
"I presume you're going to train him."
The quiet noise of surprise tells Yuji that it wasn't what they agreed on.
"Me?"
"You haven't executed him."
"I don't like killing people," Satoru says firmly. His hand remains on the back of Yuji's neck.
"You know what I think about your likes and dislikes."
"Nanami is a much better teacher than me. Besides, I..-"
"Take it as a gift," Yaga cuts him off.
"It is very generous of you, boss."
Is he laughing? Yuji doesn't know them well enough to judge their relationship, but if he were to say what's going on -Yaga did it on purpose and finds Satoru's displeasure amusing.
"You should appreciate receiving assistance, as someone who hates doing their job." The man clears his throat and his voice becomes a whole lot smoother. He has the authorativeness of an older, wiser person, without the coldness that comes with it. "Closer, Itadori."
Yuji glances at Satoru and scoots towards the massive man surrounded by plushies. There's a coffee table between them and a single cup of translucent fluid.
"Do you like sake?"
Yuji shakes his head and corrects himself a second later with an audible answer: "No."
"I don't love it either. I brew it myself." Yaga tips the cup and swallows the alcohol with no grimace. "Have a taste."
His mind goes blank. From where? He sees no other glass, so he looks over at Gojo. He's a walking question mark.
"Here," Yaga brings the cup to his face.
"Ah."
Yuji takes the smallest sip ever. To his luck, sake isn't a strong alcohol and it's about the ceremony, so it doesn't matter how much he drinks. Gojo peeks at his wrist watch and then at the other two.
"I swear to be loyal," Yuji says. It feels right.
Yaga nods. He's rather lethargic, but present. "What a long day it was. You don't have a family, correct?"
"Yes."
"We will replace it. You can count on us to protect you, as long as you can reciprocate the allegiance."
"Thank you." Yuji bows again.
"Itadori."
"Yes?"
Yaga's lips form a thin, straight line. The silence is heavy and purposeful.
"Try to betray us and you'll die."
"I understand."
"Satoru is going to show you around. You can leave."
Yuji rises from his knees. The kimono is silky smooth against his skin and the sandals make a subtle, tapping sound as he follows Gojo out. It's like dressing up for a school play, except that those people really live like this. Kimonos and other traditional attire are gorgeous, he can't complain. He has one in his wardrobe at home. Right.. home.
"When can I bring my things? I don't have too many, so I can carry them myself."
"Later."
"..Okay."
It makes him happy that Wasuke's house is going to stay in his possession. What a shame that he has to pay with his freedom, though.
"Is it the right time to mention that I have school tomorrow?"
The white-haired turns to him. "I've been looking for the best way to tell you that you don't have to die, but we can talk about that instead, sure."
Seeing that Yuji doesn't know what to say, Satoru reaches towards him and takes his pinky between his thumb and index finger. "You'd have to cut it off and bring it to Yaga. He might forgive you."
"You're saying that it might not work? That I could lose a finger for nothing?"
"Testing your luck is better than certain death."
Satoru's eyes gleam suddenly, as they gaze at each other in thoughtfulness. He wets his thumb and brings it to the corner of Yuji's mouth.
"What?"
"Dry blood," Satoru says. "I could've prepared you better before you met Yaga. He's like your father now, but I wouldn't advise calling him dad. Oyabun is more fitting."
"And who are you? My brother?"
"Lose the attitude. I was ready to bury a body tonight, not fill someone in about our rules."
Yuji bites his tongue, instead of sharing his thoughts about how undoubtedly wrong it all is. Satoru would've laughed in his face if he told him that this traditional way of living is conditioning them to rules they would've had otherwise hard time accepting. It's more than work and it's not the Edo period anymore. People have more freedom now and there is not a single logical reason why someone would need to die for their boss or cut their finger off to save their honor.
He knows better than to tell the brainwashed person that they've been brainwashed. It's one of the most uneffective ways to solve the issue.
"We clean our living space ourselves," Satoru says, as they get through another long corridor. "Respect your home, Yuji. It has to be sparkling."
"Understood."
"We have to be self-sufficient. Only the members can enter, although we did think about hiring housekeepers. Yaga didn't agree."
Finally, they meet another person. It's a woman with a ribbon in her hair and a scar on her face. A flower arrangement is slowly taking form before her, made with delicate, selected flowers and thin, twisted willow branches.
He can't walk by without complimenting it. "How pretty. You have a talent."
"Don't talk to her, unless you want to get yelled at."
The woman glares at Satoru. She takes a break from her task to introduce herself to the teen. "Utahime Iori. You?"
"Itadori Yuji." He looks up at his guide to send him a humored smile. Someone here doesn't get along with each other.
"Ignore what he says about other people."
"Sure."
"I didn't say anything untrue about you," Satoru argues. "You like to yell. Anyway," he gestures for Yuji to move on.
They looked about the same age. Twenty-four? He's excited to meet others.
"We have a few new members, as you can see. Those guys you dealt with before were a waste of space. How can one fail to catch a high schooler?" Satoru murmurs countless complaints. "Well, hope you can forgive Yuta and Rika for the less-than-warm welcome. They're still learning, like you."
"How many members do you have?"
"More than I feel like listing. You won't meet them all at dinner tonight. You have to know that it means a lot to Yaga if you show up for meals."
"What if I'm at school?"
"You and the other students are excused. If you haven't finished an important task, you can be late or skip it, but remember to have a proper reason. Teenage rebellion won't be taken into consideration."
Yuji loses Satoru for a second, when he takes a turn and disappears around the corner. He hits something as hard as a wall and covers his nose with a groan. He can't be as disoriented as not to notice a wall, right? It can't be that bad.
"That's the new kid?"
"Don't tell me the rumors spread this fast."
Yuji is met with a mountain of a man. Sharp, green eyes, black hair and a scar going through his lips. He smells amazing, though it doesn't appear to be cologne but his natural scent. And why would he feel it if he's not standing way, waay too close..?
He gets away -as far as the narrow corridor lets him. The man seemed to like Yuji staring at his lips, but really, explaining himself would've made him look more guilty.
"He can work for me, if you don't want him."
"You're the last person I'd give him away to."
The black-haired bends to his level. "Hey you, want to switch owners?"
"No, thanks," Yuji keeps his open palm between him and the man, using it like a shield.
"Ever tried pole dancing?"
"Quit it," Satoru says, unamused.
"Sure, sure. I wouldn't want you to tell on me to Yaga."
How accusatory. But he doesn't care.
"I want it to be peaceful, but there are things I can't accept."
Satoru came off as childish, the first time they met. He handled it better than his personality led Yuji to expect. The other guy might be a problem.
"Toji owns a strip club," he informs.
"Do you need a real job if you're a part of this organization? Is the pay that bad?"
"Two words -money laundering. Other than that, we need moles in high-ranking positions. Shoko is a doctor, Higuruma works as a lawyer and Nanami is a cop."
"And you?"
"My job is just a cover. I'm the owner of a host club."
Not a whole lot of pride in his voice.
"Cool. It suits you."
"People say that I look like a gigolo. Hm.." Satoru presses his finger to his lips. "Is it because of how charming I am? Call it suffering from success."
"What's there?" Yuji points at the other rooms.
"That's where you'll live." Satoru approaches one of the sliding doors and calls out: "Megumiiii.."
Yuji waits for any response or a sign that someone's there. Who are they looking for and why?
"Maybe he's not there."
"He is, trust me," Satoru says and tries again: "You have a new task. It's important."
They have to wait at least ten more seconds to hear footsteps and the most half-assed response ever.
"What again?"
"I'm not planning to talk to you through the door. Come out."
"Is it about Yaga?"
"No, I need a favor."
He doesn't get to finish talking before Megumi loses interest and goes back to his resting spot.
"Not to rub salt into the wound, but you're not very well-liked, are you?" Yuji comments.
"Perhaps."
"If it makes you feel any better, I like you cause you didn't kill me," Yuji gives him a thumbs up.
Satoru shakes his head with a sigh. "I have someone to introduce you to," he says, face to the sliding screen.
A weak groan. "Fine."
Dealing with this person requires a ton of patience. It'd take Yuji some effort to befriend him, albeit less than getting on Yuta and Rika's good side.
"Are there any other people my age?"
Satoru pats his back. "Don't give up just yet."
"That's not what I meant."
Their conversation ends here, as Megumi shows up at last. Yuji squints.
"Why do I get deja vu when I'm looking at you?"
"You met my father," Megumi assumes.
The same green eyes and black hair. He looks like a younger version of Toji. Their personalities match in one aspect and it's not the flirtiness.
"Megumi, Yuji," Satoru introduces them to each other, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Neither of you has friends, as far as I'm concerned. Get chummy."
"Rude," Itadori whispers.
"You'll get used to it."
"You're neighbors from now on," Satoru adds. He shows Yuji his room, which looks as traditional as the rest of the house. Itadori is a little disappointed to see the tatami mat.
"It's spacious," he says, instead of pointing out the things he dislikes. "Is there any way to lock the door?"
"Nope."
Yuji meets Megumi's gaze for an additional answer. He doesn't get it.
"But.. girls live here."
"And?"
"I'll keep my personal belongings in this room."
Satoru's deadpan expression speaks volumes. "Are you afraid that someone might steal it?"
"Isn't privacy important when you're staying in an unfamiliar place?"
"Do you lock your doors at home?"
"No." He didn't have a reason to, when Wasuke was there. "That's the point. This is not..-"
He notices Megumi's headshake. Satoru is waiting for him to finish his sentence.
"Never mind."
"You'll get accustomed to everything in no time." The man pets his head roughly. "I'm staying in the last room down the corridor if you need me."
They are not on the same wavelength. Yuji doubts he'd ever be okay with other people entering his room at any time of day and night and there's one person in particular who might want to do that. Toji.