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yourfavoritehouseplant · 5 months

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I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document

As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.

The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)

The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.

He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times

He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good

He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”

He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”

Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5

The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person.

He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”

He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual

Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom

His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along

There are no citations

Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.

Part 1: Intro

This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:

0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.

1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido

4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)

As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime

Part 2: Part 1

(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)

Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01

Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40

6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga.

7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.

9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)

9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons

10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom.

He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done.

11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.

13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.

14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)

Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.

14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women

16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.

Part 3: Part 2

17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me.

The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?

You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.

Part 4: Part 3

Here’s where the reading falls apart folks

At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World.

This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical

This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.

I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.

24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care

After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him.

28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)

This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase

And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.

Part 5: Part 4

Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.

32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.

Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show

Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character.

33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?

Part 6: Part 5

This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.

38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.

38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”.

38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance” THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???

39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.

Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.

At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand

Part 7: Part 6

42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami

46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince

48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim

Part 8: Part 7

54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along.

In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.

#the autism won again you guys #revolutionary girl utena #james somerton #shoujo kakumei utena #utena #anthy #hbomberguy

2K notes · View notes

bnpd · 28 days

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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001

❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞

SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.

WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

PT. 1 : PT. 2

Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work.

“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.

“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.”

You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”

You think it over.

You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game.

“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”

“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.”

Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team.

The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.

“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable.

“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.

“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers.

You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all.

“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”.

Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed.

Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line.

“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”.

Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration.

“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.”

Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.

The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss.

The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko.

“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”

Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.

She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game.

The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look.

“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.

More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores.

You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board.

“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board.

The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart.

“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone.

He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.

“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile.

A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game.

“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him.

Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”

He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.

You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received.

“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class.

“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her.

“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look.

Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”

“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?”

You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.”

“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye.

The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up.

After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store.

You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head.

You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas.

You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.

You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.

You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look.

You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh.

But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking.

“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player.

“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.

Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it.

“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.

You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather.

You never could handle the cold.

Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that.

You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.

You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark.

“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you.

Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.

A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.

You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain.

The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.”

Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.

“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time.

You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is.

You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth.

“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.

A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.

“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.

“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.

You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances.

Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”

Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight.

When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.

The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.

But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general.

After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures.

Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity.

“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.

A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.

Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.

“Ever since I was a little girl.”

“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.

“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”

You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.

He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood.

“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.

“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.”

You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.

You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories.

There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities.

You can’t imagine the burden he must carry.

One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.

His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself.

A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features.

Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.

How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.

You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away.

After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.

Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?”

You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts.

You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow.

Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room.

“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?

She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing.

“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent.

Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.

“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.

“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title.

‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’

“These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.”

You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.

You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—”

“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.

She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night.

“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?”

Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.”

She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.

You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded.

What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party.

Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow.

You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours.

“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you.

“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”

“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes.

Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.

“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question.

“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you.

“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.

“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.”

Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think.

“I think I need a shot.” You mutter.

“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”

You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it.

You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height.

The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world.

As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing.

“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together.

“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses.

Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?”

“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”

You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”

You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile.

“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it.

His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?”

You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”

“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”

Non-profit? Working with?

“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone.

Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says.

“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.”

Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it.

“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”

“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes.

You think you might have to kill yourself after this.

Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?”

“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.

“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”

To jump off a cliff? Absolutely.

Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.

You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.

Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you.

But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.

“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.

A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?”

“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup.

“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”

“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”

And she did.

The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence.

He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction.

Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.

“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.”

“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them.

“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”

“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin.

Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move.

From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part.

She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship.

And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together.

Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful.

“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”

“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”

She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.

At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.

You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.

But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be.

You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?

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