The Price of Being Untouchable

Satoru Gojo: "You look ridiculous with those on, Zen'in. Give 'em back before I charge you rent. Or keep them. Since you're already carrying my watch, my glasses, and half the villa's attention span anyway."

🫦 Pull his collar down to close the gap

Your fingers hook into the crisp fabric of his oversized designer collar, yanking him downward until his unshielded breath catches hot against your mouth in the shadow of the concrete alcove. Satoru lets out a low, breathless laugh that vibrates through your chest, his hands instantly coming up to bracket your waist and haul you flush against him before you can pull back. The metal case of Nanami's watch cold against his hip is the only physical barrier left between you, but Satoru simply tilts his chin, his Six Eyes burning through the dim recess as he presses his lips hard against the corner of your jaw.

Satoru Gojo: "You really like making me chase you down, Zen'in. Good thing I've got infinite patience for things that belong to me."

🫦 Kiss him back and make him forget the cameras

Your mouth meets his with deliberate, unyielding pressure, cutting off his teasing breath mid-sentence. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens instantly, his fingers digging into the fabric at your spine as he drags you impossibly closer, his Limitless completely dead against your touch. The cool weight of Nanami’s watch is trapped between your chest and his bare collarbone, its steady ticking drowned out by the harsh, uneven rhythm of Satoru’s breathing as he swallows your kiss whole in the alcove’s deep shadow.

Satoru Gojo: "You’re playing a dangerous game, Mikasa... making me forget where the lenses are pointing."

🫦 Hold his neck and deepen the kiss

Your fingers tangle in the silk at the nape of his neck, forcing his head down until there isn't a sliver of air left between you. Satoru's entire body hitches with a sharp, ragged breath, his Six Eyes closing as he surrenders to the sheer pressure of your mouth, his hands sliding up under your waist to hoist you slightly off your feet against the concrete wall. The heavy tick of Nanami's watch is crushed flat against his collarbone, but Satoru doesn't care about the metal or the broadcast lenses flashing futilely past the shadows—his lips part against yours with a fierce, possessive hunger that completely shatters his usual lazy grace. When he finally pulls back an inch, his unshielded eyes are dark and wild, his breath hot against your bruised lips while his thumbs press deep into the dip above your hips to keep you anchored right where you belong.

Satoru Gojo: "Then take it all, Mikasa. The cameras, the show, the whole damn clan... if you're taking me, you don't get to leave anything behind."

🔥 "Let the gallery watch us, then."

Satoru’s laugh is a low, dangerous growl against your throat as his fingers tighten mercilessly on your hips, lifting you another inch up the concrete wall so your eyes are level with his. He doesn't glance back toward the glowing blue Fuga flames or the gallery rail where the rest of the villa stands watching the shadows—his unmasked Six Eyes are fixed entirely on your mouth, flared wide and blazing with a terrifying, unshielded heat. The metal frame of Nanami's watch is crushed flush between his bare collarbone and your chest, its steady mechanical ticking completely lost beneath the erratic, heavy pulse thuttering in his throat as he angles your head back to claim you out in the open.

Satoru Gojo: "You think I care about them watching? Mikasa, I’d pull down the whole barrier right now just to give them a better view of you belonging to me."

💬 "Show them then, Satoru."

His unshielded Six Eyes flash with an arrogant, blinding light in the alcove’s shadow as your words land. Satoru's hands shift, one palm sliding up to trap the back of your neck while the other pulls your hips hard into his, pivoting you both out of the dark recess and into the full, brilliant flare of the Fuga flames. He doesn't give the jaw-dropped gallery on the terrace a single second to process before he tilts your head back and claims your mouth with absolute, possessive authority right in front of every camera in the pit. The cool metal of Nanami's watch bites into his collarbone, but Satoru only laughs against your lips, letting his Limitless flare once—a shockwave of raw blue energy that shatters the nearest broadcast glass—before locking you flush against him.

Satoru Gojo: "You hear that, gallery? She said make it a show."

move on to the next activity

Satoru sets you down on the concrete walkway with slow, reluctant precision, his hand remaining anchored to the small of your back as if he has no intention of letting you stray more than an inch. His unmasked Six Eyes gleam under the harsh blue light of the Fuga flames, ignoring the stunned, absolute silence hanging over the terrace above. He turns his head slightly toward the central broadcast pod, tossing his chin up with a sharp, lazy smirk as he shifts his weight to keep you pinned gently against his side.

Satoru Gojo: "Alright, gallery's had their fill. Back to business, Director—call the next event before I take her somewhere you can't film."

[next_scene]

The lingering heat from the Fuga flames cools against the damp stone of the pit as the broadcast cameras finally power down their heavy lenses for the night. Nanami stands leaning against the lower balustrade, his tan suit jacket unbuttoned and his sleeves turned up once at the wrists, watching you walk over with that maddening, unbothered calm. Satoru's dark sunglasses sit tilted on your nose, but your left wrist rests heavy against the cold iron rail—Nanami's analog watch ticking rhythmically right against your pulse.

Kento Nanami: "You're running on borrowed time, Zen'in. Satoru's glasses, my watch... and an entire broadcast team waiting for you to make your final call."

Why not GOJO 🤭

Nanami doesn't flinch or push himself off the cool stone rail, though a faint, dry crease forms at the corner of his mouth beneath his frame-less glasses. His gaze drops briefly to your wrist—where his heavy analog watch ticks away the final seconds of the villa's official broadcast—before rising back to meet yours behind Satoru's oversized dark lenses. The blue embers of the Fuga pit cast long, quiet shadows across his tailored shoulders, utterly undisturbed by the chaotic energy Gojo left in his wake.

Kento Nanami: "If you're asking my professional opinion, Satoru is an absolute disaster of an investment. But if you're asking what you actually want... you've already made up your mind, haven't you?"

🫦 "Are you telling me to take him?"

Nanami shifts his weight off the stone rail, his hands sliding casually into his trousers pockets as his gaze remains locked on you behind Satoru's dark lenses. The blue glow of the Fuga embers catches the polished edge of his glasses, reflecting no heat, only a quiet, resolute clarity. He doesn't move closer, but the sudden stillness between you carries the heavy weight of an unspoken agreement. He clocks his watch on your wrist one last time with a faint, imperceptible tilt of his head before turning slightly toward the archway leading up to the quiet dorms.

Kento Nanami: "I’m telling you that you’ve already taken him. What you do with the rest of us is entirely a matter of overtime."

🗣 pull aside|Satoru Gojo