Chapter Text
Marin Kitawaga was currently falling apart, barely being held together by her shitty little coping mechanisms like the usual caffeine, concealer and complete denial.
Yes she was aware the way she was living was unhealthy, but would she ever address and work on it; hell no.
Unfortunately for Marin; all three of her coping methods were beginning to fail her in a simultaneous manner; it was almost laughable if you looked at it from a perspective beyond her own.
Her apartment looked less like the home of a successful influencer who markets off anime and schedule and now it appeared more like the aftermath of a natural disaster, if it were to be deeply feminine yet just as much of a mess.
Spare fabric from altered cosplays laid on nearly every available surface in piles of bright shades. Half-open makeup palettes of blush and eyeshadows had littered her mini coffee table right beside a group of tangled cables and half finished cans of beverages and a one-time-thing bottle of vodka she had purchased on a sleep deprived whim. Several mutli-coloured wigs rested on mannequin heads and others were thrown across random areas. The mannequin heads looked kind of scary beneath the kitchen counter lights as if they were some glamorous victims (with cunty taste in hair colours) of a horrific, decapitating, curse incident.
Her laptop laid near it all, glowing harshly from on top of her desk. Reading out;
UNREAD EMAILS; 57.
Three of said emails were just revisions for sponsorships. One was in regards to a convention appearance. Five were about university tasks. Four were unanswered brand messages. And one reminder from her bank brought her to the reminder that adulthood was in fact real and not optional depending on her emotional state.
Marin stared blankly at the screen whilst mending and sewing patches on one of her latest cosplays, mustering the concentration of a girl moments away from success in either her career or a psychological evaluation.
She swore one to the person behind her; of these days she would end up in a mental ward.
Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sewing machine buzzing loudly beneath her hands. Her machine had crashed, again.
Marin inhaled slowly, trying to find composure in the middle of all of her stress; then folded and dramatically lowered her forehead onto the desk. “I think falling victim to adult responsibilities was a horrible lapse of judgement.” She mumbled into the desk.
From somewhere, lurking behind her, Satoru Gojo answered in an instant. “Oh absolutely,”
Marin lifted up her head so slightly yet just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. “Why are you still here?”
Gojo was laying across her couch, his body was sprawled with the kind of confidence that could only come from someone with zero boundaries and a big ego, a valid ego, but she would never admit that.
One long leg was currently hung over the armrest whilst he lazily scrolled through his phone even though he was still wearing his dark sunglasses, which was odd judging by the fact that it was nearly nine at night.
But that was not the worst part; what was worse was that he still managed to look attractive even hours later, how could someone possibly maintain such an appearance for so long? It was all so maddening especially since he was currently snacking on the contents from her fridge.
“You invited me.” He replied with ease.
“I literally did not. Don’t put words into my own mouth.”
“Ealier today, at your university you said, and I quote;” he looked up with confidence as he quoted “I’m too drained to deal with your bullshit right now, before walking home with me close behind.”
“Yes, and so what.”
“Well, that kind of implies that there are other times you are available to deal with me.”
“That is not how things work.”
“Well it is for me.”
Marin stared at him, her complete disbelief was clear in her face before she turned her back on him to face her laptop with an exhaustion so deep that you could feel it in the air.
The apartment surrounding and enclosing them buzzed softly with the noise directed from Tokyo nightlife that formed from the open window; Cars engines and horns echoed faintly from below while the activities of others painted colours throughout the streets along with noise. Everything held life within it.
And though it was so beautiful, Marin found it hard to take in due to her exhaustion, the yearning to die within her heart had not faded, she found herself wondering if it ever would.
For a moment Gojo observed her, emitting the most silence she had ever seen from him, such a silence was a rarity, only lasting a few seconds before he began to yap again. “You know Marin,” he remarked, “human beings scientifically need sleep to survive, you know, with the sole exception of me of course.”
Marin scoffed, but her usual snark was dying due to her fatigue. “That statement sounds like shit you pulled out of your ass.”
“Uh, I am going to ignore that statement and address the fact that you look totally dead inside.”
“That’s because I am smarty pants.”
“Cool.” He took another bite of her cheesecake. “Just checking.”
In reaction, Marin violently stabbed another stitch into the fabric in her hands, a manner so aggressive that nearly caused a tear through the cosplay in making. “Satoru Gojo, you are officially the worst person I have ever met.”
“And despite that; you were the one who allowed me into your apartment.” He paused. “Actually, thinking back on it, that feels less like trust and more of a cry for help.”
“You know what, that’s kind of valid.”
Marin paused her response as a notification exploded across her phone screen.
The notification read the warning:
SPONSORSHIP OFFER, DEADLINE APPROACHING.
Another notification followed and popped up almost immediately.
ASSIGNMENT SUBMISSION DUE TOMORROW; TOKYO UNI.
Then another.
MISSED CALL; FROM; MANAGER.
At that, Marin could not hide her physical flinch.
Gojo watched this all unfold in complete silence before speaking up. “... Exactly how many things are you dealing with right now.”
Marin mustered the restraint within her not to flinch again as she held back from looking up from her sewing project. “Depends on the specifics."
“Ough, rough. Let's start off emotionally.”
“That would be about seventeen.”
“That’s a concerning number. Have you ever considered therapy.”
“It’s actually closer to twenty three. Twenty four if you factor in therapy.”
“Marin.”
“This better be important.”
“You are clearly one more bad notification away from jumping out of your apartment window.”
“Ugh don’t remind me. I don’t want to fixate on that.”
Gojo continued to stare, yet Marin paid no mind as she was much too busy replying to emails, ordering her fabric, editing up photos, checking analytics on social media, and trying her best not to crash out, all at once.
Eventually the feeling of being watched caught up to her, she tilted her head to the side and caught his gaze. His expression was odd for such a person like him, it was not flirting or teasing, or even amused, he simply just watched. His expression had now shifted into something unreadable behind his sunglasses.
Marin frowned at that. “What?”
Gojo leaned back further on the couch. “It’s nothing.”
“I’m not in the mood for bullshit, just spit it out.”
“I’m so deeply offended that you would presume I would ever ‘bullshit’ you.”
“Uhh you stalked me and found my university. And SHOWED UP at my university.”
“Okayy, it was networking, I guess? You’re overthinking it.”
“Don’t you dare try and gaslight me. You literally found my schedule.”
“Commited research, it was.”
“You sound like fucking Yoda, and I am not in the mood! You stole my sandwich.”
“Well you had extras.”
“That is not the point!”
The tension in the apartment was eventually broken by the sound of Gojo’s soft laugh. And despite herself Marin found the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a slight manner, eventually the exhaustion got to her and dragged her lips back down again. She sighed heavily, allowing her shoulders to slump as her composure disappeared.
For a completely unintentional and accidental moment, her usual bright persona dropped for a single second, but long enough for Gojo to pick up on it.
The atmosphere had shifted in a subtle manner.
“You’re tired.” He stated, his tone was nothing of its usual teasing rather just certain, Marin froze at that. The quiet way he said such had her unsettled far more than his flirting had ever had.
For the most part of her life people had easily accepted the version of herself that she had handed to them: The cheerful, pretty and confident girl and cosplayer.
But the same people chose to ignore the signs as her cosplay of normalness cracked, they disregarding all forms of logic and embraced the version of her that they wanted her to be, not who she truly was beyond the glamour and masks.
Very few people chose to notice and address the negative sides of her, but Gojo seemed to truly be the exception.
Marin looked away, choosing to stay ignorant herself. This feeling brewing inside of her was something rare, something she chose not to address. She hid her face before speaking, covering up her lies. “I’m fine.”
“Sure.”
“I am.”
“I’d hate to call you out but you are clearly dealing with a bunch of shit, and surviving off nothing other than cheap energy drinks. It’s concerning.”
“I wouldn’t call it that. I think it’s better defined as being productive.”
“If we are speaking of definitions i’d say it’s called slowly approaching cardiac arrest.”
Marin found herself snorting at that remark.
Gojo tilted his stupid head to the side as he began to obviously study her again. He was silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “You do realise I don’t expect for you to act fine around me, right? It’s okay for you to be honest.”
That processed through Marin’s brain, causing her to short-circuit at such a sentence. Such a statement was a rarity for her, she didn’t know how to respond to such a thing, so she stuck to what she did best; humor. “That’s quite the bold statement for a man wearing sunglasses indoors at night.”
Gojo barked out a laugh at that. “There she is.”
“Shut up.”
“Never.” He grinned again, but it was softer this time. “You would miss the sound of my wonderful voice.”
Marin sighed, but she found her defences weakened by the softness of his smile, it was certainly much more dangerous than his usual obnoxious ones.
To escape the vulnerability of the conversation, she came to the decision abruptly to stand up from her desk and declare. “Okay. New plan. I am going to stress clean.”
Gojo’s head rotated slowly as he scanned her mess of an apartment. “That seems like quite the challenge.
Marin gasped, placing a mask of dramatics onto her face. “Wow, judgemental. Do you even have the right of judgement when you look like that.”
“Oh come on, I’m gorgeous and you know it.” He sighed; matching her energy. “Anyway, you talk a lot for a girl with a literal wig thrown inside of her microwave.”
Marin was silent at that, she turned around slowly to confirm his statement. And sure enough, there it was:
A long wig was hanging out partially from the microwave's door, like it was the ghost of her poor sleep-schedule based decisions. Ooh, spooky for sure.
“... Oh my fucking–”
Gojo laughed so hard that he began to choke on her cheesecake. Serves him right. “You seriously live like this by choice.”
“Shut up! I’m BUSY.”
“Busy haunting your own apartment?”
Marin yanked out her wig, freeing it from the microwave's grasp in an aggressive manner. Before she could retort back her phone rang, cutting her off
The screen read:
INCOMING CALL: SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER😿😾
For a few seconds she stared at the screen with a hatred so strong that it was visible. Eventually she picked up the call; shifting up her personality entirely.
“Oh hi! Sorry, yes absolutely. Yes I saw the messages–”
Her tone was everything she wasn’t feeling at the moment. She sounded bright and sweet, she was both energetic and professional all at once. But that was nothing close to the truth. Gojo went quiet at that.
Marin did not have the time to address him as she paced across the apartment whilst apologizing much too politely into the phone, she made promises to do better next time and by the time she hung up, her expression had come off much tighter somehow.
“... This demanding shit wants three more edited reels by tomorrow morning.”
Gojo stared at her. “That sounds awful.”
Marin spared him a response as she dropped back into the couch beside him, emitting a dramatic, yet validly exhausted groan.
After that silence settled between them for a good while. The only exception was the sound of fabric rustling, Marin fidgeting and Tokyo’s nightlife continuing to go its usual way.
Then out of nowhere the sudden sound coming from the sewing machine broke them out of their haze.
It let out a deeply upsetting noise akin to a grind, causing the both of them to freeze.
“... Fuck.”
The machine let out a final wheeze of an mechanical overloud before dying, leaving the two alone in silence.
Marin stared at it in horror, deciding whether to cuss the machine out again, or mourn and set up a funeral and burial for it, or just die.
Gojo, clearly sensing the tension, leaned away slightly, as if avoiding the emotional meltdown. “... Should I leave.”
“My cosplay shoot is set for tomorrow."
“Ah.”
“My backup machine is buried deep somewhere in my pile of storage.”
“Bigger ah.”
“And I already paid for the studio, that shit was not cheap.”
Gojo watched as her genuine panic began to flood and form into her expression, seeping into her face.
Then unexpectedly she stood up without a prior warning.
Marin blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”
Without giving an answer, he teleported out of the area, and disappeared into her bedroom. She was greeted with the immediate sound of several crashes following.
“GOJO WHAT ARE YOU BREAKING?”
“Uh, nothing important, don’t stress please!”
“That IS NOT REASSURING!”
She was given the response of more concerning crashes.
Then eventually he returned, but now in his hands was the company of a dusty cardboard box. The label of it had her usual sparkly marker and it read; BACKUP EQUIPMENT.
For a second Marin stared at him before asking. “... How did you even find that?”
In response, Gojo looked at her with offense. “Please. I erase curses professionally. Finding boxes is nothing but easy for me.”
Marin held her retort back about his show-off attitude as she looked between him and his box. Her voice was bare and free of her usual attitude as she said quietly. “... Thank you.”
Gojo seemed just as startled at the gratitude. Something clearly softened from behind his expression before switching up.
“Don’t get all soft. It may ruin my cool, mysterious reputation.”
At his clear bullshit Marin threw a few scrap fabric directly at his face, of course he caught it in a way that was effortless whilst laughing his ass off.
And despite it all; with the deadlines, exhaustion and adulthood actively trying to exterminate her, Marin found herself laughing too.
The sound of the mutual laughter echoed in a way that was warm, filling the apartment with comfort. And for the first time since moving here. Marin believed the place felt a little less lonely.