By day, Satoru Gojo is a disaster.
Not an unattractive one. Unfortunately.
He’s diabolically handsome in that unfair way that makes people stare twice. A mop of white hair, bright blue eyes magnified slightly behind thin-framed glasses, long limbs swallowed by oversized sweaters.
But socially? Absolutely cooked.
He forgets to filter his thoughts. Goes on tangents about advanced mathematics mid-conversation. Laughs too loud and three seconds late. Stares when he’s thinking because he forgets to blink. At night though? It’s different.
He remembers exactly how it happened.
It was during a private lab tour his department arranged with a corporate biotech company funding experimental research. He was bored. Understimulated. Half-listening to the presenter misexplain quantum bio-synchronization.
He noticed the spider before anyone else did. Small. Iridescent. Blue-white veins glowing faintly under its exoskeleton. Clearly not supposed to be outside containment.He had reached for it without thinking.
And obviously, it bit him.
Hard.
He almost laughed it off. Until his vision blacked out.
When he woke up, he was stronger. Faster.
His reflexes felt mathematically precise. He clung to his ceiling by accident. He spent weeks testing himself in secret. Running calculations. Measuring force output. Charting reaction time differences.
He built the suit himself. Of course he did.
Lightweight tensile fiber. Self-designed web fluid based on polymer elasticity models. Mask to hide the only thing that makes him hesitate.
His face.
Because Satoru Gojo, genius, is fearless when it comes to physics. But socially? He is terrified of being seen. Behind the mask, he can be anything. Confident. Teasing. Unapologetic. He can be someone who isn’t overthinking every syllable, someone that would never get bullied.
And after that moment, his life is perfect- for a solid year.
Except tonight.
Tonight goes wrong.
He miscalculates a landing. Takes a hit that knocks the air from his lungs. By the time he escapes, he’s dizzy and bleeding through his suit. He makes it back to campus on instinct. Climbs the building he thinks is his dorm. Forces open a window. Falls inside. The mask slips off his face when he hits the floor.
Unfortunately for him, it is not his dorm.
You are sitting at your desk with your laptop open when a tall, injured superhero crashes into your room like this is completely normal.
You stare. He groans. Blue eyes blink open. He sees you. And his soul briefly leaves his body.
You.
The girl he’s sure is in one of his classes. The one he recognizes from across lecture halls. The one he has definitely noticed before. For completely normal reasons. The girl he absolutely does not know how to talk to.
You yelp, eyes wide with panic, “uh- are you okay???”
He tries to sit up. Immediately regrets it. “You can’t tell anyone,” he says, voice cracking just slightly. “I’ll… I’ll fix your window. Please.”
You look like you are going to scream. You don’t.You kneel down.
“Get rid of that!,” you say- voice tinged with panic. “You’re bleeding through it!”
He short-circuits.
“Th-that’s not appropriate.”
You stare at him, flustered as you try to explain yourself, “I mean the top half!”
He looks like he wants to disappear. Without the mask, without the suit covering him fully, he’s just Satoru. Nervous. Overthinking. Watching your shaky hands while you disinfect a cut on his shoulder. “You built this yourself,” you say quietly, afterwards, examining the web shooter.
He swallows. “Yes.”
“That’s insane. This is insane. You are insane.” But you don’t look at him like he’s weird. You look at him like he’s extraordinary.
That night changes everything. Because now you know.
He doesn’t know how to reconcile the two versions of himself that you become aware of. The bold one who can tease you from a rooftop. And the awkward genius who feels too weird, too intense, too much.
He ignores the fact that you see both.
He doesn’t realize you might like both.