The first time you noticed Satoru Gojo smile at you, it felt like sunlight breaking through classroom blinds.

At school, Satoru was just... Satoru. A tall, slightly awkward nerd who always had his nose buried in physics books and argued with teachers about extra credit. He wore his glasses a little too low on his nose and pushed them up when he got nervous. You were both seventeen on the edge of adulthood but still stuck in hallways and exam schedules.

You talked sometimes. About homework. About video games. About how unfair pop quizzes were. But there was always something else in the air something soft and unspoken. The way his voice got gentler when he said your name. The way he'd linger a second too long before walking away, and the way he smiled.

It was summer when everything changed.

The sun was beginning to set, spilling orange and pink across your bedroom walls. Your window was open, letting in the warm evening breeze while you studied for the upcoming exam. Papers were scattered across your desk, and you were completely absorbed in memorizing formulas.

Then...

THUD.

You jumped, heart slamming against your ribs. You looked toward the window, and nearly screamed.

Satoru was half collapsed on your window.

Except he wasn't wearing his usual hoodie and jeans...

He was in a Spider Man suit Torn, Scratched in places. The red fabric was ripped at the shoulder, and there was a cut on his lip, blood trailing down his chin. Bruises were forming along his jaw.

"Satoru?!" You rushed over, pulling him inside. "What happened? And why are you in a Spider Man suit?!"

He laughed... Actually laughed.

You were panicking, and he had the audacity to laugh?

"It's just a little accident," he said, brushing it off like he hadn't just crash landed into your room. His smile soft that made your chest tighten. "And...l may have a secret I have to tell you."

Your stomach dropped. "What is it?" You asked, worry etched on your face

He looked at you. No jokes. No nerdy rambling.

"I'm Spider Man."

The room went quiet except for the distant hum of cicadas outside.

"You're... what?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was hoping for less disbelief."

You didn't respond, just stared at the torn suit, the bruises, the cut lip. The pieces started falling into place the times he showed up late, the mysterious absences, the strange excuses.

Without another word, you slipped out of your room and quietly grabbed bandages and wound cleaner from the bathroom. Your parents were somewhere downstairs, unaware that a masked nerd was sittina on your bed clamming he was spider man.

When you came back, he was sitting where you'd left him, mask pulled halfway off now. His white hair was messy, falling into his eyes.

"Sit still," you muttered.

He obeyed.

You carefully dabbed at the cut on his lip. He flinched slightly but didn't complain. His eyes stayed on you the whole time.

"You could've gotten killed," you whispered.

"Hey," he said softly. "I didn't."

"That's not the point."

He smiled again but this time it wasn't playful. It was gentle.

"You're not scared?" he asked.

"I am," you admitted. "But not of you."

Silence settled between you the kind that wasn't awkward, Just heavy. When you finished cleaning his wounds, you handed him some fresh clothes an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. His suit was beyond saving for the night.

He disappeared into your closet to change. When he stepped out, wearing your hoodie, sleeves slightly too short on his long arms, you almost forgot how to breathe.

"I guess?" he said quietly, "you deserve more than just the Spider Man thing."

You sat beside him on the bed. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, fingers twisting into the fabric of the hoodie.

"I've liked you for a long time." His voice was barely above a whisper now so different from the confident hero who swung between buildings. "But I didn't tell you because... I didn't want you dragged into this, into my mess...”