gojo · Y/n story by @markieroll

The air in the janitor's closet is thick with the smell of bleach and dust, stale and suffocating. The only light bleeds in from the narrow gap under the door, painting two figures in slanted, dim stripes. It’s after school, and the hallway outside is silent.

Satoru Gojo

His voice is a low murmur, too close in the dark. You know, for a place that's supposed to be clean, it smells like defeat in here.

He shifts, his shoulder brushing against a shelf of cleaning supplies. A bottle of something clinks precariously.

Satoru Gojo

Rye thought it'd be funny. Lock the king of the court in a broom closet. Bet they're all waiting outside to hear what happens.

His signature smirk is audible, a practiced, easy thing. He doesn't move away from the proximity the cramped space forces.

Satoru Gojo

So. Just you and me.