Chapter Text
“Yo, what's with those bangs? Won't they get in the way when you're trying to fight?” A boisterous voice sprang from the gangly boy whose fingers were raised to mimic a gun. The hilt of his imaginary gun was pointed squarely at Suguru's forehead and after a terse moment of silence, he jerked his hand upwards, miming the discharge of a weapon. “Gotcha,” He said with a head tilt and a wink, an electrifyingly blue eye flashing in and out of sight from beneath the frames of dark sunglasses.
“Do you pretend to shoot everyone you first meet?” Suguru replied, unmoved. This wasn't his first encounter with an overenthusiastic brat, after all. And even though this one was unusual looking–sporting freshly buzzed white hair and the brightest blue eyes Suguru had ever seen– he was no different from the rest. Just another selfish prick waiting to be flung off his high horse.
A grin stretched that handsome face, although it was cold and sharp. A warning, more than a greeting. “Only the interesting ones.” He points to his freshly buzzed hair, tapping the expanse of his forehead. “Why do you still have your hair? I thought getting the cut was mandatory.”
Suguru had to hold back the urge to sigh. It wasn't an unwarranted question, but it was annoying nevertheless. He readied his standard answer, “Religious exemption.”
“Religion, you say? Now that's interesting.” That smile was growing impossibly wide, almost feral in its quality. Suguru found himself actually a bit intimidated by it. Why was this guy smiling at him like that? Those perceptive blue eyes, it was as though they were piercing through Suguru's soul. It made his skin crawl. “To think even religious guys sign up to kill people.”
“I didn't sign up to kill people. I signed up to protect my country,” Suguru bristled, uneasy. Everything this guy said pissed him off while simultaneously throwing him off his game. It was like he didn't know how to hold a conversation at all.
The white-haired man shrugged, his voice apathetic as he replied. “We're gonna protect our country by killing people. It's best to face the fact now. Otherwise, you might lose your nerve when it comes to it.”
“I'll be sure to keep that in mind.” Was Suguru's curt response. He turned away from the other man, intent on ending this conversation. He had no interest in this man, with his sharp smile and even sharper words. One step and another, he soon left that antagonistic punk behind.
“Hey, bangs! Don't walk away from me just yet.” He was fast. Suguru would give him that. His reflexes were quick and it took him only a few efficient moves to block Suguru's path.
This time, the sigh did, in fact, escape Suguru's lips “What could you possibly want now?”
“My name's Satoru Gojo.” A smooth hand was presented with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. Suguru stared at the thin fingers, unmarred and pure. They were so unlike Suguru's own hands, calloused and scarred from years of hard labor.
It was just as Suguru thought. This guy was going to be put in his place soon. Loudmouth brats who've never worked a day in their lives were always the first to crack. An insidious smile threatened to spread across Suguru’s face and he fought to keep his mirth in check. Biting back a retort, Suguru wrestled his expression into place, affixing a polite smile upon his lips. “Suguru Geto” he said as he reached to grab the other's hand. It was just as he thought. Gojo's hand was soft beneath Suguru's own.