Suguru Geto | He found out you're dating

Suguru Geto wasn’t the type to express feelings. He kept everything locked inside, hidden behind that calm, serene exterior that fooled even his best friend. While Satoru Gojo never stopped talking, laughing loudly and clapping at his own nonsense, Geto was the opposite: quiet, rational, with that sharp sense of responsibility that made him the balance of the duo.

They left campus together, backpacks slung over their shoulders, crossing the street bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. The fading light reflected off Gojo’s sunglasses as he walked carefree, sucking on a lollipop.

Geto adjusted the strap of his bag, rubbed the back of his neck, and drew in a breath before speaking, trying to sound casual:

“Well… how’s your sister doing? Haven’t seen her in a few days. I mean… the three of us haven’t hung out in a while.”

Gojo turned his head, grinned mischievously, and smacked Geto lightly on the back of the head.

“Don’t even get me started, man! Looks like she’s been seeing some guy from her college. Some asshole, I don’t know him.”

The words hit Geto like a gunshot. He immediately choked on the water he was drinking, coughing hard and nearly spilling it down his shirt.

“What?!” he sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, heart hammering. “S-she’s seeing someone?! Since when?!”

Gojo only laughed harder, finding his reaction hilarious.

“Yeah, what’s the big deal? Why do you care so much? You jealous, Suguru?”

A cold shiver ran down Geto’s spine. He wasn’t sure if it was the evening air or the sudden shock of the news. He forced his expression back into something neutral, swallowing hard, though his voice cracked as he muttered:

“It’s not… not like that. I just thought it was… strange, you know? Out of nowhere, her with… someone.”

Gojo shrugged it off like it was nothing. Geto kept walking beside him, silent, while inside he was boiling. His breaths came short, his fingers gripped the straps of his backpack too tightly, and his stomach twisted at the thought of you smiling at some other guy.

Suguru Geto didn’t falter easily. Most of the time, he carried himself with calm composure, that voice of reason everyone relied on. But Gojo’s words rang in his head like a badly fired shot.

“She’s seeing some guy from her college…”

The bottle trembled faintly in his hand as he lifted it for another sip. The water went down wrong, making him cough again, but he quickly covered it up. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he muttered almost under his breath:

“Interesting…” Then he lifted his gaze to Gojo, raising a brow. “And do you know who he is? His name, his major… anything?”

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t bother to ask. Just some loser. She didn’t give me details.”

Geto forced a smile—too gentle to be genuine. “Of course… she didn’t. Probably someone insignificant then. If it were serious, you’d have noticed.”

His tone sounded light, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed him. A brief silence followed. He rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous habit rare for him. “Still… odd, isn’t it? She never mentioned anything. Don’t you think it’s a bit fast? Trusting someone just like that—when we don’t even know who he is?”

Gojo only shrugged, laughing again. “You worry more than I do, Geto. Relax. She can take care of herself.”

Geto’s eyes slid forward, fixed on the road ahead. He hugged his books tighter against his chest than necessary, forcing a deep breath. “Sure. She can take care of herself… right until she ends up with the wrong person. But you’re right. Who am I to be concerned?”

The calmness in his tone was laced with venom. He shut up after that, biting his lip discreetly as if regretting letting too much slip. But the truth was, every word had been deliberate—a jab, a hint of disapproval he couldn’t keep inside.

The walk home dragged longer than usual. Gojo rambled as always, talking about professors, about how he’d “pass law school on pure charm,” even about the snack he wanted to grab on the corner. Geto nodded silently, pretending to listen, but his mind was elsewhere.

Every step echoed with the same thought: She’s seeing someone else…

By the time they reached the apartment, Gojo darted ahead, still laughing, while Geto climbed the stairs, stomach in knots. He knocked twice on your door, like he always did, and without waiting much longer, he turned the handle and stepped inside.

You were there, doing something trivial, perfectly calm. The sight of you—so at ease—only made his nerves spike. He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing the back of his neck, feigning his usual calm.

“Hey…” he muttered first, voice low and deliberate. He took a couple steps inside, glancing around as if searching for a reason to linger. He started with small talk—about an exam that went well, about a boring lecture, about how Gojo had forgotten his notes again. But beneath those harmless words, his chest burned with the memory of what he’d just heard.

In the middle of that casual rambling, it slipped out: “Gojo said you’re dating someone… is that true?”

He forced a short, fake laugh, trying to mask the tremor in his voice. He tugged at the cuff of his sleeve, looking away briefly. “Not that you owe me an explanation, of course,” he added quickly, lips pressed in a thin line. “You’re an adult… and we’re just friends.”

The smile he held felt flimsy, like a mask ready to crack. His gaze, though he tried to keep it light, betrayed a heavy curiosity that stung.

When you confirmed it, the words landed like a blow to the gut. His breath caught for just a second, but he didn’t let it show.

Another laugh—dry, misplaced. “Ah… well, makes sense. You weren’t going to stay single forever, huh?” He tried to sound playful, but there was weight underneath. Crossing his arms, he wandered over to your desk, pretending to examine something so he didn’t have to meet your eyes directly.

“He’s… good for you?” The question carried a faint trace of poison, hidden beneath a casual tone. His fingers drummed against the wood, betraying his agitation.

When you spoke kindly of the guy, Geto exhaled sharply, a cynical chuckle slipping past his lips. “Hm. Of course. Naturally. Unlike certain people who just… complicate your life.”

He stopped himself immediately, realizing how much he had revealed. Running a hand through his hair, he bit the corner of his lip, irritated at his own slip. Turning back to you, he forced a crooked smile, edged with irony. “Sorry. Just… talking nonsense. Gojo keeps throwing this crap around and I—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard.

His eyes were different now—sharper, heavier, almost aggressive. He wasn’t confessing outright, but the silence that lingered between his words screamed of jealousy. Every glance, every pause carried the truth he refused to admit.