Archive of Our Own

"Itadori, I'm not kidding. Fushiguro is totally in love with Todo."

Yuji didn't get to enjoy his coke for too long after buying it. The drink hit the back of his throat as he tried to breathe in, forcing him to spit the whole thing out onto the floor.

"Gross!" Kugisaki scrambled back, her face twisting in disgust. She covered the drink in her hand, as if Yuji's germs could somehow make their way into the can, "Don't spit all over the place!"

He brushed a sleeve across his wet mouth, choking into it with every breath, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Kugisaki took a long, slow sip of her drink. She leaned against the vending machine, watching him struggle from a distance with the most annoying smirk possible spread on her face.

"I'm just saying," She threw out offhandedly. Almost as if she hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb in the middle of them talking.

Yuji wasn't sure how the subject of their meaningless conversation had gone from his upcoming birthday to discussing their last missions, only to end up on Fushiguro and his… preferences. It felt like it came out of nowhere.

"There's no way!" Yuji yelled out, his eyes bulging at the sheer absurdity of such an accusation, "He hates Todo."

Okay, maybe hate was too strong a word. Yuji wasn't sure if Fushiguro would ever waste genuine hatred on someone just because they're annoying– though he imagined that getting the crap beaten out of him might have changed some things.

He wasn't there for his and Todo's fight before the exchange event, but from what he understood of Kugisaki's passionate retelling, it got pretty damn ugly. When Yuji had asked him about it later, Fushiguro just scrunched his nose without saying a word. He didn't look angry, but his reaction didn't scream "the beginning of a budding romance", either.

"Just think about it!" She stepped closer, gesturing wildly with the hand not clutching the can, "You know how Fushiguro likes to be the gloomy-mysterious guy, right? The one who drinks black coffee and reads serious literature by candlelight? It would totally kill his vibe if he admitted he was into the most annoying guy around!"

"That's–" bullshit, Yuji wanted to add. But as he started thinking about it some more, and all the memories from the months they've spent together started to come back to him, Yuji suddenly realized that Fushiguro did do that– it just wasn't nearly as pretentious as Kugisaki was making it out to be.

Sure, he liked "serious" literature, but he wasn't the sort of guy to preach about how it was superior to everything else. Even if he didn't care about Yuji's manga, Fushiguro still let him crash in his room and ramble about it for hours. Yuji would sit there on his bed, explaining every plot twist and character arc, gushing about how that one single chapter had changed his entire perspective on life, and Fushiguro would nod along.

He never interrupted his monologues to insult the bad writing, even when Yuji could tell he wasn't that impressed. Fushiguro just listened, propping his head from the desk now and then to make sure Yuji knew it too.

His drinking black coffee wasn't some act he put up to look cool, either. For Fushiguro, it was genuinely all about "appreciating the full flavor profile." He was the type of guy to keep an expensive bag of it on his shelf in the kitchen, like one of those serious corporate guys, just to drink the stuff out of a cute doggy cup.

Yuji remembered trying a sip once, out of curiosity, when Fushiguro wasn't looking. His favourite snack as a kid used to be boogers, so Yuji was never all that picky about food, and he figured it would give him some insight into Fushiguro's tastes.

And it did. Yuji gagged the moment the bitter taste coated his tongue, and didn't even manage to swallow, before spitting it out all over the kitchen table. Fushiguro hadn't even blinked, as if expecting this exact reaction, and just pushed a can of soda right under his nose with a sigh.

"Just stick to your sugar, idiot."

…Okay, so maybe Fushiguro was that type of guy. But not in a lame way. Never in a lame way.

"If it were anyone else, maybe I'd agree," Yuji said. Even if she was right about Fushiguro having a certain type of vibe, Kugisaki was still ignoring the obvious elephant in the room, "But there's no way Fushiguro likes him, let alone… loves him."

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't know I was talking to the 'Certified Fushiguro Expert'," Kugisaki threw her hands up in the air, "How the hell would you know? It's not like he talks to you about it, I bet."

Well, she wasn't wrong. Technically, Yuji was just making a guess based on what he had learned about the boy during their time together– and that's to say, he and Fushiguro spent a lot of time together.

An average day always started in the common kitchen, when Yuji would walk in to find Fushiguro staring into his mug with his eyes barely open. He was never talkative that early, or in general, but Yuji had learned to read the little signs left in his expression. A slight twitch of a brow or a shift in his jaw was all the information Yuji needed to gauge his mood for the morning– annoyed, tired, okay, or annoyed again.

After Yuji whipped up breakfast, they’d go for a quick jog around the whole school, followed by a shower to wash off the grime. It was a simple routine, but when your whole life starts to revolve around fighting deadly curses and wondering whether you're going to make it to your twenties, you start to appreciate the simple things.

Then they had the classes, but considering they made up two of the three people in their year, it was pretty hard to avoid each other. Even during joint training with the second-years, they wouldn't stay apart for too long, since Fushiguro usually ended up as his sparring partner. Not that he was complaining about it– Yuji definitely preferred it that way.

They technically went their separate ways after going back to the dorms, but with their rooms right next to each other, Fushiguro was never really far out of reach. Yuji would usually invite himself over to him anyway, whether to eat a hotpot dinner or just sprawl out on his bed and stare at the ceiling.

Yuji liked it in there. Fushiguro's room was cleaner than his, smelling faintly of fresh laundry and sandalwood, with simple decor that gave it a refined quality. He never opened the window curtains, but there was always a candle or a few lit on the desk to cut through the darkness with a dim light.

It was a nice change from Yuji's own messy quarters, where dirty clothes and used-up bandages were scattered on the ground daily. He also never stumbled and almost broke his nose in Fushiguro's room.

"Clean your damn room!" Fushiguro would open the door and yell with that signature frown on his face, but always let him in anyway.

Yuji would plop on the bed just to breathe in his scent left on the sheets, watching him read a book or write something in his notebook by the desk. Sometimes Yuji would try to glance over his shoulder to see what had him so absorbed, but the second he did, the guy would just close it with a thud and shoo him away.

Annoying him was pretty fun in itself, but the best nights were the ones when Yuji would actually succeed in convincing him to watch a movie. Yuji would find his eyes drifting away from the screen during the climax and instead landing on Fushiguro’s face, eager to catch his reactions in the flickering light.

He'd only leave when it was obvious Fushiguro was about to nod off, the candle on his desk having all but burned out. At times, Yuji would overstay his welcome by casually pretending not to see the other boy's eyes growing weary, but it's not like Fushiguro ever complained about it.

If he didn't bother with making it to the end of the movie, he'd just slump over and fall asleep on Yuji's shoulder anyway. And summoning every last ounce of his strength, Yuji made sure to sit perfectly still without twitching or breathing too deeply.

Sure, he'd be sore the next day, but seeing that soft resting expression on Fushiguro's face was always worth it. If Fushiguro trusted him enough to let his guard down, how could Yuji choose his comfort over his best friend's?

So call it him being stupid or conceited, but if a "Who knows Fushiguro the best?" competition was ever actually held, Yuji was sure the odds would be in his favor. If he wasn't the only contender for the prize in the first place. At least compared to Todo.

What the hell does Todo know about him anyway? Nothing.

Yuji blurted out, his tone getting defensive, "So what if he doesn't tell me? It doesn't change the fact that I'm his best friend. I would have noticed if he liked Todo."

The conviction wavered as soon as the words left his mouth, and Yuji looked down, his grip tightening on the empty can, "If it were something important like that, he would tell me. Wouldn't he?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Kugisaki wagged a finger in his face, shaking her head dramatically, "Come on, just think about it. Todo is your brother, isn't he? There's a hundred percent chance you'd slip up and tell him, and Fushiguro knows it."

Now he was starting to get frustrated. They had been arguing for like ten minutes by now, and unlike him, Kugisaki still hadn't produced a shred of actual evidence that wasn't part of her own delusions.

"What would he even see in him?" Yuji muttered, playing with the button of his hoodie, "Todo is loud, obsessed with that one idol, and calls Fushiguro boring every time they meet. Why would he ever go for that?"

"And that–" Kugisaki said, pointing her can at him, "–is why you don't get it. You're looking at this from your perspective, but that's not how Fushiguro sees him."

Itadori turned his head to the side, hesitating, "It's not?"

"Nope," She closed her eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder, "To him, Todo isn't just all that. He’s a sorcerer strong enough to stand by his side– a loud, reckless idiot who barged into his life and saved him."

Kugisaki brought him closer, painting a picture in the air with her hand, "Sure, they’ve fought, and Fushiguro acts like he's annoyed by the constant noise and the lack of personal boundaries. But deep down, he's drawn to him– to someone who can pull him out of that dark head of his."

She opened one eye, peering at Yuji, "He pretends to hate it all, but really, he can't help but love that kind of stupidity."

Did that even make sense?

Yuji wanted to deny it, but the more she talked, the more the image began to take shape in his mind.

It did make sense. It made perfect sense, actually. After all, the same thing could be said about… them.

The only reason Yuji had ever swallowed Sukuna's finger was to save him, and if jumping into a creepy building after him didn't count as barging into his life, he didn't know what would. They had fought side by side, and even against each other, with their ideals crashing and breaking until they set their differences aside. Shit like that definitely brought people closer.

Todo was this kind of person for him, too, now that he thought about it. The guy had saved him, broken him down, and then built him back up stronger than ever. Without Todo’s teaching, Yuji never would have grown as a sorcerer– he wouldn't have landed a Black Flash, and certainly wouldn't have survived the fight against the buff plant curse. Todo had shaped him into who he was today, really.

Did Fushiguro feel like this, too?

Did Todo make him feel like this, too?

Did this appreciation turn into something else– something deeper?

Yuji knew it was childish, but it didn't stop the cold weight that settled in his stomach. Of course, Fushiguro was allowed to have other friends and experience things on his own, without Yuji being a part of it.

"I'm going to surpass you."

The memory replayed in his head like a movie. The determined spark in Fushiguro's eyes as he stared him down, and the sheer conviction in his voice as he spoke those words. To have Fushiguro Megumi, the Ten Shadows Technique user whom Yuji had looked up to ever since he joined the college, acknowledge him as a rival of all people, was better than winning a lottery.

And it made him feel special, but maybe it made him all the more arrogant, too. There was no way he could ever be the only special person in Fushiguro's life, but god did he really, really wish he was. For whatever reason.

Kugisaki dropped her hand, ending the fantasy with a pat on his back, "That's what happens when a boy with raging hormones gets forced to share proximity with a half-naked musclehead. He goes crazy!" She stepped past him, her voice trailing over his shoulder.

Yuji ducked his head to stare at his shoes, "Todo doesn't even go to our school, though…"

A weird sound came from behind him, as if a barely stifled laugh, but he just ignored it. Even without seeing her face, it was obvious that spilling Fushiguro's business gave Kugisaki a sense of joy Yuji wanted nothing to do with.

"By the way," She called out, her voice dripping with amusement, "Has Todo ever told you how Fushiguro answered his question?"

"What question?" Yuji raised an eyebrow.

Oh. It took a moment for the gear in his head to turn. That question.

To be fair, when Todo had asked him that, Yuji was likely suffering from a mild concussion. Between the rush of adrenaline and the sure brain damage he sustained from having his head pounded into a tree, he didn't really think about it at the time. Not to mention everything that happened afterwards. Was he a bad friend for forgetting?

Yuji just remembered that his answer had made Todo cry tears of joy and declare them brothers for life, starting their whole unusual friendship. Fushiguro's answer only inspired him to stomp his face in, so whatever he had said definitely wasn't what Todo wanted to hear, and could only mean Fushiguro's type was completely different.

"I…" He opened his mouth to answer, just to close it again. Yuji gripped his knees, staring at the ground as a weird tension grew in his stomach.

For some reason, the thought of knowing what Fushiguro's type was made him… anxious?

They never talked about that kind of stuff, and to Yuji, Fushiguro had always been like an entity that showed no interest in anyone ever– a guy too focused on duty and perfecting his shadows to care about dating. To think of him actually wanting and being attracted to someone felt wrong.

It was weird. Why did it make him so uncomfortable?

"…I don't know."

Kugisaki let out a low chuckle, flipping her hair. She pressed a finger to her lips, "Fushiguro said his type is a person with an unshakeable personality. Notice the wording, Itadori? Not a girl. A person."

A person with an unshakeable personality.

The person part didn't really surprise him, honestly. The few times Yuji actually bothered to clean his room and invited Fushiguro in, it was a given that he would throw a look of profound repulsion at the bikini posters plastered above his bed.

"If Kugisaki sees this shit, she'll kill you." Yuji didn't think they were that bad, but since they got thrown out after his supposed death, he never got to know if she would.

Other than that, there was the glaring magazine issue– specifically, the lack of them. Yuji had tossed Fushiguro's room once or twice, looking for a stash just to compare their collections, but found absolutely nothing.

All of that solidified the vibe that Fushiguro wasn't interested in that sort of thing, or in anyone in general. Hot women, at least.

Not that it ever mattered to him since Yuji wasn't one to care about gender, either– knowing his answer just proved that Yuji's assumptions were kind of on point. What really got him scratching his head was the whole "unshakeable personality" thing.

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Someone strong? I don't know," She shrugged, "I can only guess. You'd have to ask him himself."

Yuji scoffed, shaking his head, "Yeah, there's no way in hell I'm asking Fushiguro that."

How would he even bring it up? Yuji wasn't like Todo– he couldn't just march up to him, rip his shirt off, and demand he explain his preferences. Fushiguro wouldn't answer anyway, and probably just look at him like he was dumb and smack him on the head. He couldn't just–

"Ask me what?"

He was too focused on thinking to hear the footsteps behind him. Yuji jerked around to see a familiar figure standing there, clutching a can of iced coffee in his hand.

Crap.

"Fushiguro!" Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a smile on his face, "What are you talking about?"

Fushiguro raised a brow, his expression flat, "I definitely heard my name."

Yeah, that had no right to ever work out.

Yuji felt his hands start to get sweaty. It wasn't like they were saying anything bad, but getting caught talking about Fushiguro behind his back felt gross, and trying to hide it from him was honestly worse.

"The idiot is really curious about something, but he's too shy to ask," Kugisaki chirped, looking away as if clueless.

He shot a glare at her, expecting some kind of explanation for the sudden betrayal, but Kugisaki just tilted her head with an innocent smile.

She set me up!

Fushiguro clicked his tongue, looking between them, "Stop playing dumb, then. Just ask."

Yuji pressed his lips together, his brain scrambling to find the best way to get out of this. Running away? Asking him a random question?

Or, maybe… asking the question? As pissed as he was at Kugisaki for using his confusion to entertain herself, he had to acknowledge that she’d done him a favor. Yuji could just ask him about Todo now without it coming out of nowhere. Almost.

At the same time, would Fushiguro even be fine with being asked something like this?

He always gave the impression that he valued his privacy, and Yuji wasn't sure whether the question would breach the line he wordlessly set. Yuji didn't even know the guy had a sister for the longest time, and if Fushiguro didn't feel like sharing something as simple as that, he probably wouldn't go on to spill his guts about his love life either.

And then a worse thought hit him.

...Did Yuji even want him to do that?

Ever since they started talking about it, Yuji couldn't get rid of that weird feeling of a knot forming in his stomach. Just imagining Fushiguro answering the question made it clench harder, his neck tensing up at the same time, and Yuji didn't quite understand what was happening to his body.

He was completely fine before, so unless he had fallen ill just by sitting on the ground, those symptoms weren't a result of sickness. Were they coming from his head, rather than his gut? Was he that afraid of making Fushiguro uncomfortable?

"…Do you want to eat meatballs for dinner?"

Yuji couldn't do it. It was too risky, and he was too scared of turning the boy away from him after all the effort he put into befriending him. He'd rather live in blissful ignorance for the rest of the day, and maybe his life.

Why would he care that Fushiguro likes Todo, anyway? It changed nothing between them. There was no way that Todo would steal his best friend. Surely.

"That's it?" Fushiguro groaned, his eyes narrowing, "That was the big question?"

Yuji nodded, not meeting his gaze, "Well, yeah. I thought maybe you’d want something else for a change."

Kugisaki snorted, clearly displeased by his weak surrender, but didn't rat him out further. Had she realized Yuji wasn't proud of it, either?

"Only you would think about dinner after barely having eaten breakfast," Fushiguro scratched his head, taking a sip of his coffee, "I'm fine with whatever."

"Okay," Yuji murmured, forcing the words out, "Yeah. Good."

Maybe he was in over his head from the beginning. Maybe he didn't know the first thing about Fushiguro, and everything he had believed was just stupid presumptions he’d made up to feel closer to him.

Fushiguro opened his mouth as if to say something, but Kugisaki just cut him off with a loud yawn, "Can we go now? Not that I'm excited about dirtying my uniform, but I'm pretty sure Maki and the others are waiting for us."

She didn't wait for a reply, marching out into the sun and leaving the two of them alone under the roof to face each other. They sat there for a moment, with only the quiet buzzing of the vending machines breaking the strange silence between them.

After taking a long sip, Fushiguro crushed the empty can in his hand and chucked it in the nearby trash can. Seeing an opportunity to make things normal again, Yuji scrambled to follow after him, his legs tangling under him.

He aimed at the opening, ready to brag about a perfect shot, but when he actually threw the can, it bounced off the rim and nearly knocked the whole bin over. Yuji watched as it tipped, his wishes of looking cool and collected going down with it.

Fushiguro huffed, quickly catching the dumpster with his foot before it fell and kicking it back in place. Naturally. Yuji scratched his neck, expecting to hear an insult or a curse from his mouth– he honestly deserved it for fumbling that shot and making things even more awkward.

But Fushiguro just stared ahead, his expression unreadable, “...Have any plans for your birthday?”

Yuji blinked, caught off guard, "Not really. Probably just gonna eat junk and play games until I pass out. Why?"

"Nothing," Fushiguro shrugged, looking everywhere but at Yuji, "Just asking."

Since when does he ask questions just to ask?

"I wanted to..." He muttered, scratching his cheek, "I actually need help with something that day. Figured I'd ask you."

"You need my help?" Yuji teased, a giddy grin spreading across his face instantly, "Out of everyone? How come?"

Fushiguro furrowed his brows, "Don't let it go to your head. You're just... the most suitable guy for it. That's it."

"Well, I guess it can't be helped then." Yuji puffed his chest up, brushing his shoulder, "A gentleman can't exactly leave a damsel in distress, right?"

A smack sent him flying forward, and he had to grab the vending machine to stop himself from falling into the bin.

His ass hit against the cold floor, and he whined, "Ow! That's assault, asshole!"

Fushiguro stood over him, his fist still raised in the air as a reminder, "Keep talking, and you'll be the one in distress."

Yuji rubbed his head with a pout. He really shouldn't push his luck today, but seeing that pissed-off look on Fushiguro's face, he couldn't help himself, "…Would you come save me then?"

Fushiguro hesitated, as if sensing the trap, "If I weren't busy. Maybe."

"Liar," He laughed, smirking up at him from the ground, "You totally would."

Fushiguro didn't disagree, so that was a win in his book. He reluctantly offered him a hand, grunting out as Yuji clasped their palms together in a tight grip.

Yuji scrambled up with a bit too much enthusiasm, his mind too focused on revenge, and nearly ended up head-butting his saviour in the process. A hiss left Fushiguro's lips as he shoved him back, but such a weak attempt at resistance was nothing to Itadori Yuji.

Fushiguro tried to walk away, but Yuji blocked his path instantly. The boy wrinkled his nose, muttering a frustrated 'seriously?' under his breath as he attempted to go around him.

A grin sprawled on Yuji's face as he leaned in, cutting off the other way and almost bumping into him, "Don't look at me like that. If you ask nicely, I might let you go."

Fushiguro's hand shot in the air, his fingers digging into Yuji's cheeks harshly to shove him away, "As if!"

A howl slipped from Yuji's lips, and he quickly retaliated by grabbing Fushiguro's other arm and twisting it around. Fushiguro hissed, letting go of Yuji's face to pull his ear instead, now both hands going on the offensive.

It didn't take long for them to start pushing each other back and forth like a pair of idiots. Between Yuji's obnoxious cackling as he seized his hands and Fushiguro's hopeless efforts to try and slam him into the vending machine, it almost looked like they were doing some kind of weird dance. One where Yuji was having the time of his life, while his partner was seconds away from strangling him.

Maybe I'll ask now? The thought suddenly came back to him. I mean, he's trying to beat the shit out of me, anyway.

"You're so fucking stupid," Fushiguro groaned, shoving one hand hard against Yuji's chest while the other tangled harshly in his hair, "Piss off!"

"I know," Yuji flashed a smile, revealing a row of teeth as he tugged on Fushiguro’s collar to keep him in place, "That's why I have you to make up for me–"

The words died in his mouth, replaced by a choked gasp as Fushiguro yanked his head back. They both went still, their combined panting now twice as loud, and suddenly, Yuji realized just how close they were.

If it weren't for Fushiguro's hand clenched onto his uniform between them, their chests would be pressed straight up against each other. Every time Fushiguro wheezed, his warm breath grazed against Yuji's cheek, and Yuji's grin slowly faded as his heart began to beat faster. They stared at each other, and slowly, Yuji saw the irritation in Fushiguro's green eyes melt away and turn into something more… bold.

He kept his grip on Yuji's hair, pulling just enough to tilt his head back, and Yuji just let him. Maybe it was that sharp glare in Fushiguro's eyes that made it so, but he couldn't find it in himself to resist him. Fushiguro's eyes moved up from his outstretched neck, down to his exposed collarbones with a nervous gulp, before he forced his gaze back to Yuji's face in a panic.

And then he let go, fast.

Yuji stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet without the forceful support of Fushiguro's grip. He blinked, standing there with his arms hanging at his sides.

…What just happened?

Nothing, surely. Yuji totally didn't just let himself be manhandled like a bitch, and not a bone in his body found it pleasant in any way. They were just joking around, and nothing more. Bros being bros, right? It'll only start to be weird if he makes it weird.

Fushiguro smoothed down his jacket with such force you would think Yuji had puked on him, and if he wasn't so desperate to forget about the whole thing, Yuji would be pretty offended.

Instead, he held his breath, preparing himself mentally for the scolding to come. It was a given, seeing how Fushiguro's face grew sickly pale, and his hands began to tremble before he shoved them in his pockets.

"Are you done acting stupid?" Surprisingly, the boy just cleared his throat and looked away as if nothing had ever happened, "Can we go now?'

"Uh. Yeah," Yuji mumbled, completely stunned. Was he really just going to let him off like that? "We should. Kugisaki's probably–"

"Itadori, I'm not kidding. Fushiguro is totally in love with Todo."

The conversation from before crawled its way into his mind again, and his chest tightened. Something about it made him feel weird, even worse than before.

"–Gonna yell at us. Or something."

I should just forget about that. Yuji had fumbled his opportunity to ask about it a long time ago, anyway. It was for the better.

They passed the vending machines without saying a word to each other. Yuji didn't know anymore if it was the little fight or Kugisaki's dumb rumor still weighing on his mind that made the whole atmosphere so awkward.

Was it even his fault? What if it was Fushiguro, too hung up on Yuji talking behind his back to say anything?

He stole a glance to the side, hoping to find some sort of answer in Fushiguro's eyes, but the boy kept them fixed on the ground.

"How the hell would you know?"

Right, that was all assuming Yuji was the one on his mind in the first place. Maybe it wasn't that deep. Maybe Fushiguro wasn't talking to him, because he was thinking about someone else entirely.

They almost made it past the roof when a sharp tug on his hood jerked Yuji backward. Fushiguro finally met his eyes, fingers clutching tightly onto the fabric of his hood to stop him.

Yuji tilted his head to the side, trying to play off how stupidly happy that gesture made him, "What? Wanna go for another round?"

Fushiguro kept his chin buried deep inside the collar of his uniform, "Itadori…"

He went rigid, a wave of thoughts rushing through his mind all at once. The weird intensity of Fushiguro's stare as he held him back made Yuji shudder, more than a bucket of cold water splashed over his head ever could. Was he mad about the fight? Or did he know what Yuji wanted to ask him all along?

Was he going to say it?

Is it really true? Fushiguro, you like–

Fushiguro bit his lip before letting out a frustrated sigh, "…It's my turn to cook, isn't it?"

When Yuji was a kid, he really liked balloons. They reminded him of those fancy amusement parks that he never got the chance to go to, all happy and colorful. But his grandpa really hated them, and rarely bought them for him– strictly because he knew Yuji would always get too attached to the dumb piece of rubber.

The joy of dragging it around with him would last for a day or two, floating high near the ceiling, but it always ended the same way. Eventually, Yuji would wake up to find the balloon lying shrivelled on the floor, all the life having drained out of it, and he'd burst into tears right on the spot. The loss hurt all the more with his grandpa yelling at him for being a baby instead of comforting him.

"Yeah, it is," Yuji said, feeling the air hiss out of his own chest. Standing there in front of him, he knew exactly how those balloons felt.

Maybe Yuji really was sick.

Training was a disaster, to say the least. His limbs felt disjointed from his brain, his punches were sloppy at best, and his footwork was a whole mess of its own. But even worse than all that, that annoying thought would creep back into his mind every few minutes, breaking him out of focus each time.

Fushiguro's in love with Todo…?

He'd squeeze his eyes tighter, trying to get rid of it, just to end up missing the obvious signs of an incoming attack.

Shut up! Focus!

A bruise throbbed against his skull, and a red patch appeared on his arm right where Maki's glaive smacked him. His morbid curiosity might be the death of him.

It certainly didn't help that Fushiguro was sparring just a few meters behind him, and every sharp exhale and low curse that slipped out between the loud clack of wooden weapons sent Yuji’s concentration spiraling.

His brain kept drifting back to this morning– to the awkward silence, the question that died in his throat, and that single confusing phrase.

Unshakeable personality.

For someone who only read "serious" literature, Fushiguro came up with a pretty cheesy way to describe someone's character. Did it mean someone headstrong? Stubborn and opinionated? Or was it more metaphorical, one of Yuji's favorite words that he picked up, and he was being too literal about it?

If it was, Yuji was thoroughly fucked. He had never been good with analogies, being the kind of guy who let his actions speak for him, so trying to decode the cryptic poetry of someone like Fushiguro left him scratching his head.

It also left him wide open. The end of the staff stabbed into his stomach, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he ended up folding over with a cough.

"What's going on with you?" A tall shadow loomed over him as Yuji struggled to breathe in, hand clutching his abdomen. Maki stared down at him, one hand on her hip and the other pointing the glaive at him, "You should have ducked this one easily, Yuji. Are you going easy on me?"

"No," Yuji wheezed, coughing up saliva as he propped himself up, "Never."

"Good," She took a few steps back, swishing the weapon in the air, "I would have killed you for real, if you did. I'm not Megumi, you know?"

Yuji whipped his head back, praying Fushiguro wasn't anywhere near being within earshot. Thankfully, he was too busy sparring with Kugisaki to even bother paying attention to what was going on behind him.

He let out a shaky breath, relieved. Yuji really wouldn't be able to handle Fushiguro thinking he was talking behind his back twice in one day.

"Ah, there you go again." Maki rolled her eyes, annoyed, "Worry about yourself, Yuji. Or the next one knocks you out."

"I'm not–" He jumped to his feet, brushing his pants before bringing his fists back up, "I just… I can't focus, for some reason."

"Oh?" She cocked her head to the side, "Something's the matter?"

Yuji swallowed, hesitating to answer. It was already bad enough that Kugisaki went around telling him about Fushiguro's maybe-secret crush, and for him to spread the rumour further felt even more wrong.

Then again, he didn't have to spill everything. Maybe he could just discuss the part that confused him the most. "A person with an unshakeable personality… What does that mean to you?"

Maki arched a brow. She stared at the clouds for a second, the blue sky reflecting in her glasses, then turned her gaze back at him, "I don't know. I guess someone who keeps going?"

Yuji tilted his head, "Keeps going?"

"Yeah. Even after getting beaten into the dirt," Maki pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose, her expression hardening, "Some people just give up easily, but I think someone… unshakeable, wouldn't. Despite everything."

Someone who keeps going… Todo's like that, I think.

Yuji scrunched his nose. If there was one person on earth who refused to give up– no matter how many times he was rejected, insulted, or yelled at– it was Aoi Todo. And unfortunately, that applied to more than just fighting.

A normal guy with a crush on an idol would probably give up knowing it was doomed from the start, or at least would be aware enough not to expect something to come out of it– but Todo wasn't a normal guy.

The sheer amount of money and energy he poured into his "future wife" with all the meet and greets, merch, and other stuff that came with it wasn't just impressive to Yuji– it was pretty disturbing.

But that was him. Would a guy like Fushiguro find that praiseworthy? Was that really his type? Did he actually want someone that obsessively dedicated to him? Or did he just mean "unshakeable" in a combat sense? Or maybe–

"You're still distracted," He hadn't noticed Maki closing the distance until the ends of her ponytail brushed against his ear.

Even after his mind had fully registered what was happening, his body was too late to react, and a painful punch to his gut and a swift tug on his hoodie had already sent him flying.

Yuji flailed his arms in the air for a split second before his face made first-hand contact with the grass. He groaned into his elbow, curling up on the ground, ashamed by his utter defeat and the thoughts that put him in such a state.

"Did you piss her off?" The familiar voice called out, nudging him lightly in the thigh.

"Fushiguro…" He whined, trying to sit up, "I didn't… I don't think."

"If you're not sure, then you definitely did," Kugisaki stuck out her head from behind him, playing with the phone in her hand, "What stupid thing did you tell her, idiot?"

A sudden flash blinded him, "Nothing!" Yuji hissed, desperately trying to hide his dirty face behind his arm, "I just asked her a question!"

"What question?" Fushiguro asked, the sudden interest startling Yuji.

"Uh, you know…" Yuji’s eyes darted around the field in a totally natural, not-at-all-suspicious way, "Just… stuff."

No matter how awful his excuse was, it might have worked out for him if he hadn't made the grave mistake of meeting Kugisaki's gaze. Yuji could basically see the thought process going on in her brain, and when it all clicked into place, Kugisaki burst out with laughter so hard that she nearly dropped her phone onto the grass.

Fushiguro glanced between the two of them, eyebrows furrowed at being excluded again, "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," Kugisaki giggled, slipping her phone into her pocket, "Itadori here is just having a moment of realization. Maybe he's jealous?"

"I'm not!" He snapped, way more intense than the situation called for, "Why would I? That doesn't even make sense!"

She held her hands up defensively, still laughing, "Damn, calm down! You're gonna give Fushiguro some weird ideas if you keep screaming like that, you know?"

"What are you even–" Fushiguro muttered, rubbing his temples. He gave up on finishing the thought mid-way, and instead turned to leave, "Never mind. I don't even want to know."

"Oi, Nobara!" Maki yelled out across the field as she stomped toward them, "Megumi! Don't you dare walk away! You stay right there."

Fushiguro halted, letting out a frustrated sigh. The girl pushed past him, pursing her lips in annoyance, and grabbed Kugisaki by the shoulder to steer her away, "We're switching. Nobara's coming with me."

She turned to Fushiguro, jabbing a finger down at the ground to point at Yuji, "You take him. Try beating some sense into him, because I couldn't."

In a matter of twisted irony, Yuji was made to come to blows with the source of his distractions. Fushiguro picked up his tonfa, snapping into a fighting stance, and Yuji put his bare fists up. The grass on the field crunched as they charged at each other.

To account for the difference in raw strength between them, it was decided that Fushiguro would fight with the weapon of his choice, while Yuji had to do so with his limbs only. To make it somewhat fairer, Fushiguro wouldn't use his shikigami and had to rely on the pair of tonfa alone, so overall it was an almost balanced match.

Almost being the keyword, as Yuji had the slight disadvantage of not being able to properly look his opponent in the face– not after that embarrassing encounter earlier, and not after he spent the while morning wondering whether he had the hots for his friend.

It would all just come back to haunt him all over again should their eyes meet, so Yuji had to solely rely on reading Fushiguro's body movements. That in itself would have been fine if only avoiding looking at the face directly in front of him wasn't so damn hard, and that wasn't just him being captivated by Fushiguro's unnaturally long lashes and objectively pleasant-to-look-at face.

Since the tonfas required him to get closer to land a hit, it was a given that they ended up almost touching noses a few times during the fight. The moment his eyes were drawn towards Fushiguro’s own pair of green jades, Yuji would get flustered and snap his head away, taking the strikes straight on without really retaliating.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Fushiguro cursed in his ear. His tonfa lunged right after, but this time Yuji caught it mid-air, "Are you going easy on me, or something?"

Oh, they're related, alright.

"No!" Yuji pushed him back with a sharp upper kick. Fushiguro blocked the attack easily, the wood of his weapon creaking, "I just– Man, forget it!"

No more screwing around and thinking of irrelevant shit. If something like this happened while fighting with a curse and not his friend, Yuji would end up dead in a ditch. If his eyes and body meant to betray him, he would just have to give up on relying on them.

Yuji didn't have Gojo-sensei's Six Eyes, but the man did exclusively train him in his cursed energy usage. Combined with Todo's training– freaking Todo again– he resorted to trying to read Fushiguro's moves just by the flow of his cursed energy. Yuji closed his eyes, letting out a single breath, before charging forward.

It was pretty hard at first, since he would focus more on his other senses instinctively– the sounds of Fushiguro's body moving, the weapon swishing in the air, or the pressure it created with each strike.

But then slowly, it all became clearer. Yuji tuned them in to feel everything around at the same time, not just the individual bits and pieces coming at him. He could almost smell Fushiguro's distinct cursed energy as his blows grew more aggressive and less refined, and when it became easier to duck, Yuji's hands started to move towards the boy on their own.

"Think you can take me on with your eyes closed, you prick?" Fushiguro sneered in his ear, "I'll show you."

The hits became more brazen, and Fushiguro managed to land a few kicks in on him in between strikes with the tonfa, too. Yuji just kept blocking with his arms, palms, and shoulders, feeling Fushiguro's cursed energy leak out in chaos that threatened to swallow him whole.

I can keep going, Fushiguro.

He was getting frustrated, and Yuji loved it. He wanted to see Fushiguro go all out on him, trying his best to blow him away.

"Don't you dare look down on me, Itadori–"

Yuji matched his new speed, his own punches landing harder. His body moved like a machine, everything else but the instinct to strike being forgotten. With each blow of his fist against the wood, the tonfa began to grow limp, struggling to keep up.

Todo is not your match– I am!

Fushiguro tried to push him back with his foot, but Yuji caught it mid-air, bringing him forward. His arm shot up, aimed straight at him as Fushiguro blocked with both hands, but it wasn't enough. One strike of Yuji's elbow against the tonfas caused them to shatter, sending the chunks of wood imbued with cursed energy flying everywhere.

I'm the one you should look to.

His leg swished in the air, ready to finally sweep him off his feet. With that final kick, Fushiguro would have to acknowledge him, or his strength, whether he wanted to or not. The cursed energy flared up in an outburst right before him, so close it almost scratched his skin, and then–

Huh?

The kick didn't land. The surge of cursed energy was gone, just like that, as if Fushiguro had vanished into some mist, or never even been there in the first place.

Yuji shot his eyes open, the sun blinding him momentarily. As they adjusted to the light, and he looked around in panic, it became apparent that Fushiguro really was gone.

"Fushi–"

Perhaps it wasn't just his vision that had been blinded, but his judgment too. A force latched onto Yuji’s waist from behind, and he was jerked downward. Yuji lost his footing and fell back, bracing for the hard impact of the crash, but it never came.

Instead, the ground swallowed him whole. The world turned pitch black as Yuji was pulled down like an anchor, seeping deeper into the darkness. His body went ice cold instantly, muscles seizing up as the blood in his veins froze solid. He tried to inhale, but there was no air to breathe in, only a heavy pressure on his chest that left his lungs aching.

Panic clawed at his throat as he sank into the bottomless ocean. It was just like that time– the emptiness and the cold, and the sensation of his body being dragged away into nothing.

He was dying again. He had to be. He–

Just as his consciousness began to fade, he was pulled upward. Everything became brighter once again as something pulled him back to the surface, ejecting him onto the grass.

Yuji fell to his knees instantly, breathing in and out as his heart raced, hoping his lungs hadn't collapsed from the lack of oxygen. A swift shove sent him sprawling onto his back just as he reached forward to claw at the dirt. His body reacted instantly, sending a jolt of adrenaline down his spine that screamed at him to get up, but something slammed down on his chest.

"Were you trying to kill me, asshole?"

He looked up, dizzy and on the verge of throwing up. The shadow above slowly took on a tangible shape, growing more familiar by the second, and Yuji finally felt stable enough to breathe in.

Fushiguro stood over him, one foot planted on Yuji's chest to keep him down. Panting. Pissed.

"You want to get serious? Let's get serious." He spat the words out, eyes flashing in anger, "I'll fucking pummel you."

Oh, the world didn't end. Fushiguro just casually brought Yuji down with him into his shadows.

Yuji lay there dazed as Fushiguro hovered above him, blocking out the sun. It was as if an angel had descended from the sky to save him from his impending doom. A very angry and spiky angel.

Maybe it was the sunlight framing his silhouette, giving the impression of a halo that made him look so radiant. Or maybe it was the fact that Yuji was sure he had died, and Fushiguro just so happened to be the first thing he saw upon being resurrected for the second time in his life.

Whatever it was, he couldn't take his gaze away from the boy above him. And at that moment, the sight of Fushiguro looming over him, all panting and drenched, was the most alluring thing Yuji had ever truly witnessed. He took in everything Fushiguro had to offer him, greedily and with no shame.

His hunched posture, leaning forward. His dark hair clinging to his face, and the sweat pouring down his forehead and onto Yuji's hoodie. The collarbone sticking out from underneath his shirt, and the deep furrow of his eyebrow, and his curled up fists, and the perfect shade of green in his eyes, and the slight twitch of his lip, and oh my god–

The realization hit him like a blast from Gojo-sensei's forehead flick. Yuji was never sick, and he wasn't jealous of Todo potentially stealing his best friend either.

I don't want Fushiguro to be in love with Todo.

The words rang in his mind as if all his senses decided to finally slam the bell that was his brain.

I want Fushiguro to be in love with me.

Because Yuji was completely, and quite hopelessly, in love with him.

The moon outside reflected the light into Yuji's room. With his back pressed against the cold wall and legs sprawled on the bed, he stared at the polaroid in his hands, its edges slightly bent from being looked at too many times.

It was from the time they had tailed Gojo-sensei all through Shinjuku, eventually getting dragged into a maid café where the waitress insisted on taking a commemorative photo with them. In the picture, Yuji was smiling so hard that his eyes shut, while Fushiguro just stood there, glaring at the camera and not at all happy to be forced to pose.

Looking at it used to make Yuji laugh, but as he traced the curve of Picture Fushiguro’s frown with his thumb now, it made his chest ache in a good way.

Fushiguro…

The most pathetic sigh left his mouth.

I'm so screwed.

Ever since the catastrophe of their training, Yuji hadn't left his room even for a moment, too embarrassed to face anyone. He couldn't shake off the look Fushiguro had shot him before storming off, the pure anger in his eyes hurting him more than the lump forming on his head where Maki had smacked him for taking things too far.

Fushiguro ignored him for the rest of the day, and Yuji couldn't really blame him. He didn't bother chasing after him to walk back together after the classes ended, and instead tagged along with Kugisaki, who found his distress rather hilarious.

"You find out that Fushiguro is into dudes, so you go and beat him up. Wow. Are you homophobic or something?"

Yuji considered telling her his true feelings just to get it off his chest, but since she was the one who revealed Fushiguro's crush, he figured she'd have no qualms about doing the same to him. He kept his mouth shut, but somehow, she knew something was up either way and even had the nerve to laugh at him.

"You're so dense it kills me. I tried my best to help you, but I give up."

She was even more delusional than Yuji was, apparently. The only thing Kugisaki had helped him with was indirectly fueling his spiral into madness. Maybe it would be better if she had never told him about that stuff in the first place.

Maybe then Fushiguro wouldn't start hating him.

Aaaah! Idiot!

Yuji buried his face in the pillow to muffle the scream as he rolled around the bed in a frenzy. He banged his fists against his skull, trying to forcibly knock the embarrassment out of his brain, not noticing when the photo had slipped from his fingers during his thrashing.

The bed creaked for the last time as Yuji finally stopped tossing and rolled onto his back to retrieve it. He held it up high over his head, making Picture Fushiguro look down at him, angel wings on his back and an aurora floating above his head just like he was before.

A giddy smile crept onto Yuji's face. Feeling shy under his gaze, he pulled the picture down just to hug it tight to his chest. He covered his flushing face with his elbow and started kicking his legs against the mattress, giggling into his sleeve with each thump.

How did he not realize that before?

Fushiguro was everything Yuji had ever wanted– his best friend, his rival, and his partner.

His… lover?

Yuji had never truly considered falling in love before. He hadn't cared about romance in middle school, and the moment he ate that finger, he realized it would likely never happen. Sorcerers died too easily, and if there was one person made aware of that better than anyone, it was him. He couldn't commit to someone, give them his everything, and promise them a future together only to leave them behind with nothing but a corpse to bury.

But maybe it could be different with him. They were both sorcerers, so both of them had played by the same rules and were aware of the risks. Yuji had already died once, and Fushiguro hadn't crumbled into pieces. He didn't weep for too long, and instead, he kept moving forward with his life.

The thought of giving his heart to Fushiguro, and it not burdening him when he imminently perishes after they're done with the whole King of Curses bullshit, brought Yuji a strange sense of comfort. He really was the only person whom he could see himself grow closer to.

But besides all the gloomy stuff, Fushiguro totally happened to be his type, which made it that much easier to fall in love with him. Tall, dark, and brooding? Sign him up. Those sharp eyes, quick thinking, all while being strong, so strong? Need that. And he carried a whole zoo in his shadow! Of course, there was also his nice big a–

A sudden pounding on the door sent a jolt through his spine, followed by a heavy kick to the wood. Yuji quickly shoved the picture under his pillow, smoothed out his messy hair, and practically fell against the door to open it.

His heart dropped to his feet when he saw the object of his affection staring him down. Beautiful. Pissed.

…Again.

"Can you keep it down, for fuck's sake?" Fushiguro hissed, leaning into the doorframe, "How many times do I have to bang on the wall before you get the hint?"

Yuji blinked. Consumed by his hopeless pining, he hadn't heard a thing, and that kinda explained why the bruise on his head was still throbbing.

"Sorry," He mumbled, grabbing the door handle to shut the door in his face, "I'll be quiet. Goodnight."

He knew it was rude, but Yuji could not bear to look at him right now. Not after he spent more than an hour drooling over his face in the photo, all while kicking his feet like a schoolgirl.

Yuji desperately wanted to go back to Picture Fushiguro as soon as possible. Picture Fushiguro still looked displeased, but at least he had a halo and wings, and more importantly, he wasn't looking at Yuji with flames in his eyes.

So he tried to swing the door shut, but it didn't go as planned. A foot wedged itself firmly between the door and the frame, and before Yuji could react, a hand forced the thing open.

The Real Fushiguro's gaze was drilling into him, but the anger from before was gone, the fire in his eyes having died down. It was still as intense as ever, but combined with the corners of his mouth pulled down, he looked more confused than anything.

"Are you angry at me?" He asked, letting go of the doorframe.

Seeing him standing there without his put-up wall of indifference, and so unbelievably vulnerable, made every muscle in Yuji's body scream to reach out and kiss that look off his face, never to return. But then he remembered the training, and how getting worked up over everything only led him to do stupid shit as always, so he shut it out and tried to act natural.

As natural as he could be after noticing Fushiguro was wearing his old zip-up that Yuji left in his room at some point, and how much better it looked on his leaner frame, and how he probably smelled like him too, and–

Please, never take it off. Wait– actually, please, take it off–

"What? No way," Yuji said, shaking his head a bit too lively, "I'm not mad. Seriously."

Fushiguro wasn't happy with that answer. His eyebrows furrowed, "Then why did you go so hard on me? You wanted to show off in front of everyone, or something?"

"No, it wasn't like that!" He tried explaining, heavily debating whether to bang his head against the door in the act of goodwill, "I was thinking of something else, and… I kind of took it out on you by accident. I'm sorry."

That's not a lie, right?

Technically, he was thinking about something other than the training. It just so happened that it was Fushiguro’s love life. And Fushiguro’s eyes. And Fushiguro in general.

Fushiguro just stared at him, not buying the poor excuse one bit, but Yuji offered no further explanation.

"It was dumb," Yuji mumbled, "Really dumb. I'm sorry."

Yuji braced himself to have the door shut in his face, but before it could happen, he considered offering his shoulder as a punching bag to make amends. Maybe if Fushiguro hit him hard enough, they could call it even and go back to being buddies.

Not giving him the chance, Fushiguro sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders, "Yeah, I know. We're talking about you, after all."

"Hey!" Yuji pouted, but seeing the boy's expression soften, a smile spread across his own face.

"So what was it?" Fushiguro leaned back, scratching his neck, "The thing that pissed you off?"

Yuji stared at him, feeling his soul leave his body.

He knew he couldn't lie– he was so bad at it that his face would give it away the second he spat the words out. Fushiguro had a natural bullshit detector anyway, so ultimately, Yuji was doomed from the start.

So, he simply chose the next best option– silence.

He just stood there like an idiot, staring at him with a smile while cold sweat trickled down his spine. Yuji gripped the door handle to hide his trembling hand behind it, clenching his cheeks as he waited for Fushiguro's patience to run out. It was never that abundant to begin with, and more or less fortunately, Yuji had long stretched out its course that day.

Yuji wouldn't give in– if he had to, he would stand there for the rest of the night.

The silence stretched, and stretched, and with every second that passed, it became even more agonizing.

"Never mind," Fushiguro relented, but not without a groan, "It doesn't matter anyway."

Yes!

He clicked his tongue, checking his phone, "Are you coming, or not?"

Huh?

"Coming?" Yuji looked over both sides of the corridor, confused, "Where are we going?"

"My room, where else?" Fushiguro snapped, as if stating the obvious.

Yuji swallowed his spit. His room? Like, right now?

Fushiguro's eyes narrowed into slits, not amused by Yuji's lack of comprehension, "Dinner? You wanted to eat together?"

"Oooh! Dinner!" With all that happened, Yuji completely forgot about the clumsy excuse he had made up on the fly, "Right, right! Sorry, I almost forgot."

"Seriously? You know what, I don't care," Fushiguro shook his head, "I already made the food, so you will eat it."

Yeah, duh, he almost slipped out. Yuji would have eaten charcoal if Fushiguro served it to him on a plate– or a finger.

"And," Fushiguro paused, gaze dropping down to his chest. He started fiddling with his zipper, like he always did when he was nervous, "I have something to tell you. Later."

"Something?" Yuji's heart raced. Whatever it was, it must have been serious, and dread washed over him at the thought, "What kind of something?"

Don't tell me he will… about him–

"Move your ass, and you'll find out." With that final sentence, Fushiguro grabbed him by the collar and hauled him towards his room.

Yuji looked up from his empty bowl, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The dinner by itself had been great, but the atmosphere in the room was nothing short of weird.

The second Fushiguro had swallowed his last bite, he left him alone by the coffee table and practically ran to his desk. He sat there hunched over it, reading something from a notebook while tapping his leg against the floorboards.

Yuji craned his neck from the floor, trying to get a look. "You writing a novel, or something?"

Fushiguro jumped in his seat, nearly knocking the chair over, "Stop being so damn nosey!" He closed the book instantly, glaring over his shoulder, "Even Kugisaki is not that annoying about it."

"That's because she doesn't care about your interests as I do!"

"I prefer it that way."

He stood up abruptly, scratching the back of his neck, and lit another candle on the desk. The room was awash in the sweet smell of vanilla, suffocatingly intimate, and Yuji’s stomach twisted.

Is he going to come out and say it now?

He had never felt as conflicted in his whole life. One part of him wanted to know, just to ease his curiosity, while the other shuddered even at the thought of it being true. Was he really going to lose him? Right there, on the very same day that he realized he loved him?

At the same time, it wasn't like he was delusional enough to think Fushiguro actually liked him back. Maybe he was just being weird, acting like Todo was stealing his potential boyfriend, as if Yuji had any chances with him to begin with. That's something only a creep in a stalker movie would do, and Yuji was not insane. And not a creep. He had to share his body with one, but that was more like a roommate situation and not a personality trait.

Not to mention that all of this was purely assuming Kugisaki was right. Yuji wanted to believe that wasn't the case, or at least, he wanted to believe Fushiguro wasn't interested in Todo of all people. Fushiguro could do so much better than him.

..sorry, Todo.

But that was just wishful thinking. Was Yuji too blinded by love to see what was right in front of him all along? That Fushiguro's heart had already made its choice?

Do I just ask him? No, that would be way too embarrassing. Even if he tried, Yuji wouldn't be able to say it again, and Fushiguro would throw him back into the shadows or something. Just because.

Maybe I should follow him around to see how he acts? No, that's just going back to the stalker thing. Besides, they already spend most of the time together, and Yuji never noticed anything different about his behaviour. If Fushiguro was hiding a crush, he was doing it right under Yuji's nose.

Or maybe… I trick him into confessing?

A lightbulb went on.

If he could bait Fushiguro into slipping up, it wouldn't be awkward. It would just be a normal conversation that friends have. What better way to learn his true feelings than from his own mouth?

Yuji thought he would do it by now, especially with the whole dramatic "I have something to tell you," but their meal was long done, and nothing came out of it. If he had chickened out of it, as Yuji suspected he had, maybe the smart thing to do would be to get him more comfortable and therefore eager to talk?

And then boom, I'll ask him! 

"Fushiguro," Yuji drawled out, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand, trying to look effortlessly casual, "I'm bored. Let's play a game."

Genius. He even came up with a plan of action.

Fushiguro snapped his head around, ears burning red and beads of sweat forming on his temple as if sick.

"So you can yell at me for being ass again? No thanks," He turned away, wiping his palms against his sweatpants, "You get way too competitive for me."

"No, not that type of game!" Yuji waved his hands, trying to dispel the memories of their last Mario Kart session that didn't go so well. He pretended to brainstorm, humming loudly, "Oh, I know! How about a preference game? I give you a choice between two things, and you pick the one you like more."

Fushiguro raised his brow, "Did you just come up with that?"

"Yes. Wait, no."

Was coming up with it right now a bad thing? But if Yuji stayed with no, then Fushiguro would know he was thinking about it further and might get suspicious.

"I, uh, I've heard Kugisaki talk about it."

Good thing she wasn't here to hear him lie about her.

Fushiguro stared at him, unimpressed, "That sounds pretty fucking lame, Itadori."

"Don't say that!" Yuji cried out.

He just rolled his eyes and turned his back on him, "That's not even a game. I could tell each of your answers just by looking at your face."

"…No, you couldn't."

Even he didn't believe that, but Yuji couldn't give up now. There wouldn't be a better chance, and he needed to know. The future of his training, his mental stability, and his work as a sorcerer depended entirely on the outcome of this stupid game.

"Okay, then that will be the game part," Yuji insisted, leaning forward, "We'll check if we can guess each other's answers before saying them out loud."

He grinned, locking eyes with him. "But you have to be honest. No lying allowed."

A sharp buzz from Fushiguro's phone cut through the air. Yuji swallowed hard, clutching his knees under the table to stop them from shaking. Please don't be an emergency mission. Please don't be Gojo. Please don't be Todo for fuck's sake–

Fushiguro unlocked the screen, the blue light illuminating his face. He stared at the message with dismay, his brow twitching.

Then, with a painful sigh, he stood up, "Fine."

Success!

Yuji ripped the paper page into smaller pieces before throwing one to him along with a pen, "Okay, let's start with something easy for the warm-up."

He had it all planned out. Yuji would ask him two random questions to ease him in, and then, when Fushiguro least expected it, he would hit him with the big one.

"Who do you like more– me or Todo?"

It was dumb and childish, but it went along with the rules of the game and served a greater purpose. If what Kugisaki said was right, it would give him all the information he needed.

If the rumor was true, and Fushiguro picked Todo, Yuji would know where he stood. Since he was Fushiguro's best friend, picking Todo meant he was something even greater than that. Yuji would pack up his feelings and bury them deep, accepting his role as the supportive friend.

But, if Fushiguro said that he liked him more, then it would be obvious that Todo stood no chance– you wouldn't choose a friend over the person you were in love with. And with a little thinking, Yuji would figure out what that whole unshakeable personality thing meant, and would strive to become that for him. And then maybe, maybe–

Yuji felt himself growing flustered just at the thought of it. If he became that unshakeable ideal, maybe Fushiguro would stop looking at him as just a friend and would see him as someone worth falling in love with.

It was all the determination he needed. The stage was set, and all that was left was the execution.

"Fushiguro," Yuji beamed with unbridled enthusiasm, feeling on top of the world, "Are you a dog person, or a cat person?"

"Seriously? That's your question?"

"Man, it's just a warmup."

Fushiguro scribbled something onto the paper, not looking too happy. He dropped the pen and gave a reluctant nod, signifying he was done.

"Okay," Yuji pointed a finger at him, "You're totally a dog person."

With a roll of his eyes, he revealed the piece of paper, a big "dog" written in the middle.

"Congrats. I wonder what other fascinating questions you have up your sleeve– are you a morning person, or an evening person?"

"It was a warmup, asshole," Yuji protested, panic spiking as he realized he was one normal question down before he even got to the big one, "Whatever. Your turn."

Fushiguro looked up, resting his chin in his hand, "The same question to you."

"Oh, so you made fun of my question for being basic, but you can't even come up with your own?" Yuji rolled his eyes, "And you're calling me lame?"

"You wanted to play," He shrugged, "This is me playing, so take it or leave it."

Okay, this game way going way worse than he thought, and all they did was ask each other exactly one question. Maybe he wouldn't be able to ask it, after all.

Unimpressed, Yuji began to write his answer– or rather, his hand hovered over the paper, while his brain went completely blank.

Cats are cute, he thought, but they have claws and like to scratch. Though if they were cute enough, he could look past the potential injuries.

Dogs are cool, he considered, but you have to train them, or they might start destroying stuff. But wouldn't it be awesome to go on a morning run with a big one right beside him?

"Dude, it can't be that hard. Just pick one," Fushiguro moaned painfully, seeing no action in Yuji's hand, "Hurry up. I'm dying over here."

In his panic, Yuji scribbled something that made him look really dumb, but it was too late to change it with Fushiguro's sharp eyes on him.

He nodded weakly, and Fushiguro looked him over, spinning the pen between his slender fingers, "Both."

"No way," Yuji's eyes shot wide open, bracing himself against the table, "How did you know?"

"You always play with the Divine Dog when he's out, so I figured you must like dogs at least," Fushiguro mumbled, placing the pen down before rubbing the back of his neck, "As for cats… I don't know. Just a hunch."

His fingertips scraped against the table, a trace of a smile passing across his face, "You just seem like the type who’d try to pet every stray on the street just to get scratched."

Fushiguro knew him so well. Something about that, and his eyelashes fluttering at him, and that slight pink flush starting to appear on his face made Yuji's stomach twist into a very warm knot.

"Okay, you were right technically," Yuji showed him the slip of paper, biting his lip, "I think your answer was better than mine."

Fushiguro squinted his eyes, leaning in closer as if to make sure he was reading it right, "Bunnies? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Well, I meant your shadow-bunnies specifically," Yuji straightened up, throwing a few air jabs to demonstrate, "I mean, they're so cute and fluffy when not mad, but then you piss them off and boom! They're packing punches."

"They're rabbits, first of all," Fushiguro corrected, though the usual bite was missing from his voice. He brushed a hand through his hair, "And second, that wasn't even in the two choices?"

"I know," Yuji mumbled, and threw him another piece of paper with a pout, "That's why I gave you a point anyway."

Fushiguro watched as the paper landed before him, his fingers trailing down to find the zipper of the hoodie. He brought his knees closer against his chest, his soft gaze flickering between the table and Yuji.

"I like them too," Fushiguro mumbled, playing with the zipper, "I guess it makes sense now, why."

Yuji smiled, tilting his head to the side, "You like the punches too?"

"…Apparently," His eyes sparkled with such tender fondness that looking into them made Yuji’s heart beat faster. Man, he must have really loved these freaking rabbits. "Your turn."

Yuji clenched his teeth in anticipation. One more question left. All he had to do was ask a question that wasn't stupid– or that stupid, at least.

Easy. How hard could that be?

"Alright. If you had to pick between forever summer–" Yuji grinned, spreading his palms to build up the suspense, "–and forever winter, which one would you choose?"

In any other circumstances, he would totally pat himself on the back for the hidden philosophical aspect of that one. There was so much you could learn about a person just by knowing their favourite season, and the opposite worked as well, so Yuji basically had the answer in the bag.

"And no, neither isn't an option." Yuji quickly added, seeing Fushiguro's mouth hang open.

Fushiguro stared at him, deadpan, "Is this your way of getting to know people? No wonder you have no other friends than the ones forced to live with you, god."

"What? You don't have any other friends either!" Yuji exclaimed, his cheeks growing hot as he pointed an accusing finger at him, "We are in the same boat, dipshit! So can it, and answer the question!"

"Hmph," He let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Fushiguro shook his head, bringing his pen to the paper, "Write yours too, while we're at it. You take too long otherwise."

The energy in him died out instantly, and Yuji felt a sharp tang of disappointment hit him, "You're not gonna ask me a question? Again?"

Was he just not that interesting to him? Did Fushiguro not care about his preferences, his thoughts, or his life at all? Not even as his best friend?

"Not yet," Fushiguro mumbled, biting his lower lip as he turned the paper answer down on the table, "I'm still thinking about it."

Yuji huffed, pushing down the hurt. He wouldn't let his stupid feelings ruin the vibe, not when he had a goal to achieve.

When he finished writing his guess, he propped himself up on his hand, forcing his confidence back to the surface, "Easy. You'd pick winter, Fushiguro."

Fushiguro blinked, looking entirely unsurprised by the guess. With a flick of his wrist, he revealed his paper.

"What? Summer?" Yuji slammed his hands against the table, not happy with the answer, "I said no lying!"

"I'm not!" Fushiguro angrily threw the paper behind his back, raising his chin higher, "Winter sucks!"

"But–" Yuji stammered, not wanting to face the cruel possibility of being so wrong about him, "But you can, like, cozy up under a blanket in the evening to read a book– you do stuff like that, right?"

He furrowed his brow, looking profoundly offended, "Who do you think I am, some forty-year-old woman?"

"What? No! That's a perfectly normal thing to do for anyone!"

"Yeah, maybe for people that sit around on their asses all day," Fushiguro snapped, crossing his arms against his chest, "Try training outside at five in the morning or going on a mission in the middle of nowhere. Having the cold bite your ass while you're trying to exorcise a curse isn't cozy."

He faltered, ducking his head in defeat, "Okay, good point."

"I have doubts now," Fushiguro cocked his head to the side, leaning back, "I thought you would pick summer for sure."

"Busted," Yuji grinned at him, waving the slip of paper in victory. His friendship card couldn't be revoked if they were both wrong, "Winter all day long, baby."

Fushiguro rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting down as a flush crept up his neck. Was he really that upset about not getting a point? What a sore loser.

"Whatever," He muttered, "I just thought summer would be the best time for a guy running around wearing shorts the whole year round."

"It is!" Yuji grinned, pulling the waistband of his shorts with a snap, "But there's one thing that winter has that summer doesn't."

Fushiguro raised a brow, "Let me guess. Christmas?"

"That too," Yuji smiled, peeking through the small gap in the curtains, "But mostly... I picked it for the snow."

He slumped forward, resting his cheek against his folded arms on the table, "You know those things that seem so huge and amazing when you're a kid, but kind of lose their magic as you get older? I think summer is like that."

Yuji traced a pattern on the table with his finger, "I mean, I'm not saying that firework shows and trips to sea aren't nice, but eventually they just become… normal."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Fushiguro drop his head to his knees, curling in on himself to hide his face behind folded arms.

"But snow always feels special. That moment you wake up, and see it piled up outside for the first time in a year–" Yuji mused, his voice growing softer and more reminiscent with each word, "Even when you know it's so cold outside, you can't help but feel warm. Inside."

They stayed silent for a while, watching the candle burn with an orange glow. The vanilla scent filled his nostrils again, taking him far back into his memories– back into his hometown.

He remembered the sweet tea his grandpa used to buy him, and how it warmed his numb hands after shoveling in the snow. How it would make his face all sticky, and the man had to wipe it afterwards, but always had another cup ready when Yuji asked for it.

"Do you even get cold, Itadori?"

Yuji blinked, suddenly pulled out of his snowy daydream and back to reality, "Why wouldn't I?"

"You know, you always sit too close to me when we watch movies," Fushiguro mumbled into his knees, and as his eyelashes fluttered, Yuji felt the rest of the meatballs in his stomach do a trick, "And when it's freezing, you dig your elbow into my ribs, and you're always so… warm. Don't you feel it?"

"No, not really," Yuji laughed, his cheeks heating up. He didn't know if it was a compliment or a complaint, "Maybe it's just because I'm next to you, Fushiguro."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fushiguro frowned. He buried the lower half of his face in his arms, looking up at Yuji with eyes that were dangerous to his heart.

"It's just… You know."

Because it’s you. You're the one who makes me so warm.

"You're just cold in general, and I feel hot in comparison!" Yuji backpedaled instantly, "Thermodynamics, or, uh, something."

His brain told him to shut up, to leave it alone before he ruined everything, but the question clawed its way out of his throat anyway, "Do… do you want me to stop? Sitting so close, I mean."

"No."

The dorm room vanished. The snowy memory, their little game, and the flickering candle had all faded into the background. All that existed to him in that moment was Fushiguro leaning across the table, his face inches above Yuji's.

"I like it," Fushiguro whispered, "You… Your warmth, Itadori."

No words in any language could describe what it felt like to know Fushiguro wanted his warmth. If that was what he needed, Yuji would gladly become his personal furnace for the rest of his life. They were so close that Yuji could count all the strands of his dark hair, each spike sticking out in a different direction, and yet, he looked softer than ever. The candlelight caught in Fushiguro's eyes, and as Yuji met his glossy gaze, he knew he could never look away from him again.

"Okay. Good," Yuji whispered. As if in a trance, his hand moved on its own, reaching up to stop near Fushiguro's flushed cheek, "Just stay close to me, then. Just come to me if you ever feel cold."

Yuji's fingertips brushed against his cheek, gently. He wanted to be greedy, to cup his face in both palms and hold him there, but he worried it would scare him off. Fushiguro didn't flinch at the touch– his eyes widened for a fraction of a second, fixed on Yuji's hand hovering near, and then he surrendered.

Mesmerized, Yuji watched as his hand was slowly engulfed by him. It wasn't just the fingertips that were touching– Fushiguro's cheek moved under his fingers, and then settled in his whole palm so Yuji could brush his thumb over it. He didn't say anything, not a word. Yuji wouldn't hear him over the hard beating of his heart, anyway.

And his cheek was just as warm as it looked, a tender heat that seeped right through Yuji’s skin, leaving him breathless. Fushiguro leaned in, his eyes half-shut as if melting under the touch, and Yuji worried he might actually have a heart attack. Fushiguro was staring at him like that.

Yuji’s legs started to tremble under the table, and he knew that in about two seconds, his palms were going to start sweating. He couldn't ruin the best moment of his life by leaving a gross, wet print on Fushiguro's pretty face, so he started to withdraw his hand, moving just an inch away.

The moment he did, Fushiguro let out a low groan and grabbed his wrist, "Don't move," He stared at him, his fingers digging into Yuji’s skin, "I'm cold, now."

It was all over. Yuji couldn't control the urge to close the distance between them anymore, desperate to keep him warm. He picked his head up from the table, propping himself up on his free hand, until they were eye to eye.

Yuji could see him clearly now, his face all the more heavenly in the dim light even without the halo around his head. Fushiguro tried to turn away, but Yuji wouldn't let him, squeezing his cheek to pull him back.

He used a bit too much force and ended up dragging Fushiguro’s whole face bare inches from his own. Fushiguro sucked in a breath through his teeth, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes disappeared as soon as Yuji met his gaze again, now warm and tender.

God, Yuji loved those eyes– that deep shade of green framed by dark lashes, sharp yet dreamlike all at once. Always had, even before he realized that he loved the soul behind them even more.

And for a second, Yuji hoped that Fushiguro wanted to look into his eyes just as badly. That there was a chance he would get lost in them, if only for a heartbeat– long enough to make his heart beat faster, and want to get lost in Yuji’s lips, too.

He wouldn't know if his hopeless wish would come true.

A single buzz from Fushiguro's phone broke the trance, freezing them both in place. Fushiguro stiffened under his touch, letting out a frustrated groan, and Yuji’s stomach dropped through the floor.

I did too much.

He snatched his hand away, his elbow knocking a pen off the table with a loud clatter, and leaned back with a forced cough. His eyes shot down to stare at his feet, not brave enough to look Fushiguro in the face– was he mad? Disgusted?

From the corner of his eye, he saw the harsh blue light from Fushiguro's phone cut through the darkness. The sound of aggressive tapping against the screen filled the room, and now that Yuji was thrown back to reality, the shame of his action washed over him.

Man, Yuji had to bite his tongue to stop himself from whining out loud. That was way too close. I almost made it weird.

He squeezed his knees together under the table, curling in on himself like a baby who just learned you can't tug on a puppy's tail even if it's cute. It was Fushiguro's fault, really. The stupid candles and his sweet eyes staring at him made Yuji see signs that weren't there.

"Maybe winter isn't so bad, after all." Fushiguro set his phone down on the table. His expression went back to its usual aloofness, maybe a bit more guarded, but nowhere near angry.

Yuji breathed an internal sigh of relief, "Told ya," He forced a strained chuckle.

An awkward silence settled, with Yuji too focused on twisting the drawstring of his shorts around his finger, while Fushiguro seemed determined to unscrew the cap of his pen, both of them looking anywhere but at each other.

So, we're just going to ignore the fact that I was practically fondling his face? Okay. Cool. Ignoring it is good.

"Your birthday's in the winter, isn't it?" Yuji blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, "Man, I'm jealous. Winter birthdays are the best."

Fushiguro's face clouded over, the traces of softness from a moment ago long gone, "I don't really celebrate it. Not anymore."

Now Yuji was the one frowning. There was no valid reason in the world to skip a birthday. It was too depressing to even think about, especially when it came to Fushiguro, who deserved a celebration more than anyone. The heat of his cheek lingered on Yuji's hand, and all he could think of was how to bring back that tender look in his eyes.

"Fine. Then, as your best friend, I'll do it for you." He tore a strip of paper off, hoping that going back to their game could lighten the mood somehow, and flicked it across the table, "I'll celebrate enough for two people. We'll make a snowman or go ice skating. We'll do all the stupid fun shit you pretend to hate."

Fushiguro didn't catch it. The slip hit his chest and slowly drifted to the floor, landing at his feet, just as the phone buzzed again. His shoulders slumped as he stared at it, his brows knitting together into a deep frown.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, "You should go, Itadori."

"What?" Yuji muttered, flustered, "I didn't mean it in a bad way. We can do something else, like–"

"No, not like that," Fushiguro jumped to his feet, grabbing the pot a bit too carelessly, the remaining liquid spilling out a bit, "It's fine, I'm just tired. Really."

Yuji wanted to believe him, but he wouldn't even face him. Did he cross a line? Was it the touching? Fushiguro turned away, setting the pot down, before hunching over his desk to shove the notebook back into a drawer.

He watched his back from the floor, helpless. He wanted to reach out and apologise if he upset him, or comfort him. To tell him that whatever bothered him, Yuji would take care of it, and that he would always be there for him.

Instead, Yuji nodded his head before shuffling to the door, leaving Fushiguro behind in the dark. Leaving behind the warmth, the candles, and the moment they shared.

The harsh artificial light of the hallway blinded him for a moment as he opened the door, cold and not at all pleasant.

"Itadori?" Fushiguro's voice called out from the shadows.

Yuji turned his head around, heart leaping in his chest, but Fushiguro wasn't there to invite him back as he had hoped. He just stood in the middle of the room, his back turned away from him, refusing to show his face.

Hope settled in Yuji's voice, but he wasn't sure for what anymore, "Yeah?"

"Thank you." It almost didn't sound like him. The words came out so gentle, so uncharacteristically sweet, that for a second Yuji worried they weren't addressed to him at all.

But they hit him all the same. They made him feel warm, even though everything else about Fushiguro was freezing him out like the winter weather. Like the first snow that Yuji came to love so much.

He lingered for a heartbeat, staring at the boy’s back to take it all in, before stepping into the light and closing the door behind him.

I guess I won't know the answer after all.

A few days have passed since then, and things have mostly gone back to the usual.

After Yuji left Fushiguro's room that evening, it was as if the entire night had been erased from existence. The next morning, Fushiguro greeted him with his standard nod and didn't mention the game, or the moment their hands touched, or even explain why he had kicked him out so suddenly.

Yuji was relieved that he wasn't angry, of course. The fear of ruining their friendship had eaten at him through the night, and he was glad to let it go. And yet, every time they spoke about the mundane stuff like training or homework, it left Yuji with a bitter aftertaste of disappointment.

Maybe he read too much into it, and Fushiguro didn't talk to him about that evening simply because it never meant anything to him. Expecting his mind to linger on it would be like expecting him to remember a random dinner from a week ago. And that stung, because to Yuji, that moment meant everything. He couldn't just let it go and pretend nothing had happened.

The way Fushiguro had looked, his eyes lit by the candle, leaning into Yuji's palm as if he belonged there all along. He saw it when he was awake, forced to look at Fushiguro's impassive face in classes, so different from that gentle expression. He saw it when he was asleep, the scene replaying every single night in his dreams and ending the same way– him waking up with his heart pounding, right before their lips could touch.

With that kind of image haunting him twenty-four seven, Yuji couldn't help but sulk. For the past few days, the second their classes ended, he would drag himself back to the dorm and collapse onto his bed, spending the rest of the evening hiding his head under the pillow.

But staring at his pillowcase got boring fast, so to cheer himself up, he clung to the one silver lining of the whole "Fushiguro likes Todo" nightmare having died a quiet death. Kugisaki hadn't mentioned it again, and since he never saw the two of them together, Yuji was confident enough to brush it off as a sick joke she tried to sell him.

That was until Gojo-sensei announced that Principal Gakuganji and a few students from the Kyoto sister school were coming for a summit. Almost immediately, Yuji’s phone blew up with a text from none other than Todo himself.

"Brother! Let’s get ramen the second I touch down in Tokyo!"

Kugisaki stole a glance over his shoulder while they were sitting on the couch, and she had the nerve to start saying it again, going all "Don't tell Fushiguro, he'll get jealous." He hadn't even responded and just went back to his room, ready to never come out of it, feeling like his whole world had collapsed all over again.

Is this what heartbreak feels like?

It was a little dramatic, of course. It was bound to happen when he made up this whole universe where Fushiguro was just as desperate for him as he was for Fushiguro. So he coped the only way he knew how– listening to depressing songs, watching movies where the dog dies, and training until his knuckles bled without talking to anyone.

This solitary life sucked, but he couldn't find it in himself to be his usual bubbly self in front of the other students, and he didn't want to bother them with his weird not-actually-heartbreak heartbreak. It was embarrassing enough just having to look at his own pathetic reflection in the mirror every morning.

And then, as if to add insult to injury, came the guilt. He hadn't even realized he was doing it, but Yuji found himself subconsciously avoiding Fushiguro. He wasn't doing it on purpose or out of anger– Yuji simply didn't know how to act casual around him anymore.

Once he had crossed that line in his head– seeing Fushiguro not just as his teammate, but as the pretty asshole who stole his heart– there was no going back. It all went downhill from there, and Yuji couldn't look at his face without imagining what could have happened had they not moved away from each other.

Would Fushiguro have pushed him away in scorn? Or would he have closed that final inch and just… gone with it?

They couldn't even watch movies anymore, because having Fushiguro so close and not being able to smooch him felt like actual torture. He couldn't even bear to smell his scent anymore without that weird feeling in his stomach. It was pretty disgusting, honestly. Did he turn into an animal, or something?

That became a problem when Fushiguro randomly started showing up at his door. Yuji didn't know what possessed him to do that, but suddenly he was asking him to eat together, to spar, or to hang out with Kugisaki and the second-years.

It was everything Yuji had wanted, which was exactly why he had to say no. He did his best to let him down gently, and when Fushiguro would frown, asking if something had happened, Yuji would just brush him off with a bright smile.

"Nah, just taking my training super seriously right now!"

He felt like a piece of shit for punishing him for a fantasy that existed entirely in his own head, but if he stayed near him, Fushiguro would just end up even more hurt.

That's why he put his all into training. If he focused on something else, then these feelings would naturally fade away, and then Yuji could go back to being his good friend. At least that's what he thought would happen, but the reality hit him like a truck, and Yuji soon realized that no amount of sweat and pain could get him to forget.

He was coming back from an evening run. Yuji had passed by the dorms and accidentally took a sneak peek through the outside door of Fushiguro's room just to see what he was doing, since they didn't talk much.

It was a mistake. The moment he realized what was happening, the water bottle in his hand had already dropped on the ground with a splash, soaking his shoes completely. His mouth went dry at the same time, and for the first time in his life, Yuji felt his heart shatter in that way.

It was visible for just a few seconds, but Yuji was sure of what he saw. It was Fushiguro in his casual sweats, leaning back against the glass door with a tall figure standing next to him. Then, with one sharp movement, he tugged the long curtain shut to block the view from the inside so no one could see.

No one except for Yuji. It was Todo. With Fushiguro. In his room.

Fushiguro didn't like people in his room. He barely tolerated Yuji being there, and he’d even kicked him out just days ago. If Todo was there, it meant Fushiguro let him in, and probably invited him there in the first place.

It was a relief, in a twisted sort of way. At least he had gotten to the bottom of it and found the answer that he was looking for– from Fushiguro himself, no less, just like he had wanted.

Now that he knew Kugisaki was right, he could finally stop deluding himself and crash back down to reality. He could go back to being Fushiguro’s best friend– cheering for him from the sidelines, supporting his relationship, and making sure Todo was treating him well. That's what friends did.

I can do that, he told himself. I can be happy for him.

For the first time all week, Yuji felt a physical repulsion to the idea of going back to his room. In fact, he kind of wanted to get as far from it as possible. For no reason in particular.

Yuji had stayed in the arcade for hours, feeding coins into machines until his pockets were empty. He burned through most of his allowance on random games he didn't even enjoy, just desperate for any sort of distraction. An employee eventually tapped him on the shoulder to tell him they were closing, and by the time he left, it was already dark and cold outside.

With the freezing air in his eyes and a drizzle of rain dropping on his face, it felt like the world itself looked at his pathetic heartbreak and decided to kick him while he was down just for good measure. He didn't even bother to wipe the rain from his face, and just let his feet drag him back toward the dorms, too consumed by his own misery to care where he would end up.

As Yuji made his way past the gate, the phone in his pocket buzzed again. He had been ignoring it all day, too terrified to face the wall of unread messages accumulating on the screen.

At least the rain had finally stopped.

And he continued to do so as he made his way inside the dorm building. Approaching the familiar doors next to his own, Yuji squeezed his eyes tight and picked up his pace. The sheer thought of the two people he was trying to avoid jumping out at him right now made him nauseous. He wouldn't be able to genuinely smile at them just yet if they did.

Yuji grabbed the handle of his door, shaking the rain from his hair. He was about to push it open when suddenly, something soft swiftly brushed past his ankles.

He flinched, leaping back, "Huh?"

It was gone when he looked down. Yuji glanced around the corridor, but it was just him and his soaked shoes in the empty hallway. He stood there for a moment, straining his ears for some kind of sound that would explain what he had felt, but heard absolutely nothing.

I'm going crazy. I'm actually losing it.

With a defeated sigh, he turned back to his room. Seeing and feeling things that were never there in the first place had become his thing at that point, so one more hallucination hardly made any difference. The door creaked open, and Yuji had barely taken a single step inside when it happened again.

This time, he was faster. His hand shot down and grazed against something small and… fluffy? He missed grabbing it by a second, and the creature slipped through his fingers, running away deeper into the corridor.

"Hey!" Yuji spun around and dashed back out into the hallway.

The dim corridor looked empty, but he was sure the thing was still there somewhere. He narrowed his eyes, searching for the faint residue of cursed energy. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but once his eyes focused on that one spot–

There.

Yuji had to crouch low to see them, but they were definitely there– small, faint traces of cursed energy trailing down the corridor floor. He followed after them, practically crawling on all fours, until he rounded the corner.

"Huh?"

A pair of glossy red eyes stared right back at him. The creature tilted its little head curiously, nose twitching, before hopping closer.

He blinked. Yuji knew they had a Panda at the dorms– but a bunny? How did it even get in here?

As if it understood, the animal stood up on its hind legs. Yuji almost giggled at its shameless attempt to show off a fluffy white belly, but then he saw the big red mark right in the middle, and the familiar cursed energy came at him.

"Shadow-bunny!"

The shikigami’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice. Yuji scooped it up, a wide grin breaking across his face for the first time in days, and brought it closer to his chest.

"What are you doing here, buddy?" He scratched behind its ear. The rabbit closed its eyes, leaning into the touch with a nuzzle, "Did Fushiguro let you out? But why–"

Before he could finish, the rabbit kicked off his chest and leaped from his arms.

"Hey!" Yuji scrambled after it, still on his hands and knees, "Wait up!"

The rabbit paused, looking back over its shoulder at him. The moment Yuji moved, it bolted forward again, but didn't completely disappear. It would stop, wait for Yuji to come up again, and then take off the second he got within arm's reach.

Yuji halted, propping his hands on his knees, "Are you leading me somewhere?"

It offered no response, ducking its head.

"Wait," He muttered, his palms starting to sweat, "Where's Fushiguro?"

Yuji suddenly became very aware of his surroundings. The dorm felt off when he first walked in, and he didn't think much of it at the time, but it was painfully obvious now that something was wrong.

It was empty. Like, completely empty. No clattering of pans from the kitchen, no hum of the TV in the common room, and no muffled laughter behind closed doors. Not a soul outside, either.

It was pretty late, but it still shouldn't be that quiet. Was everyone really just asleep? The only sign of someone being here was the shikigami in front of him, but if Fushiguro summoned it, he had to be close.

So why didn't he come out? Why couldn't Yuji feel his presence? Why–

He jumped up, his heart racing. "Why is there only one of you?"

Yuji knew Rabbit Escape all too well, and it had one big thing going for it– it was all about quantity. There should be a hundred, if not thousands of these things running around if Fushiguro summoned them, but here it was just this one little guy.

His mind quickly spiraled into a full-on horror sequence. Maybe there had been thousands at some point, but a curse had torn through them– or worse, some curse user. He imagined Fushiguro cornered, his cursed energy all but drained, sending out one final messenger to find help. To find him.

"Is he hurt?"

The rabbit took off again, but didn't look back. This time, Yuji didn't hesitate and launched himself forward.

"Fushiguro!" He ran through the corridor blindly, his breath hitching in his throat, "Hold on! I’m coming!"

Just as he got to the training field, his lungs burning, the shikigami suddenly stopped dead in its tracks.

Something was wrong, and the cursed energy coming from the rabbit was growing weaker. Yuji jumped to grab it, but the second he touched it, the rabbit melted in his hands. It didn't even leave a trace– just a black puddle that the earth swallowed in an instant.

Yuji stood there, his hand still hanging in the air. He stared at his empty palm, then at the dark patch of grass, waiting for the shikigami to jump back at him. Praying that Fushiguro would stick his head out of the shadows after it, too.

"Come back," Yuji reached down to touch the spot, digging his nails into the wet soil, his heart sinking into his stomach, "Please. Where–"

"Itadori!"

Yuji whipped his head around so fast it felt like a whiplash hit him.

Fushiguro wasn’t dead. He wasn’t bleeding and wasn’t even hurt. He was just sitting there, perched on the concrete stairs bordering the field, leaning his head on his hand.

"Where were you?" Fushiguro stood up and began walking towards him, unbothered.

His voice sounded muffled, as if traveling through a mist. Yuji watched him approach closer, the painful lump in his throat not letting any words out. His chest tightened, scared that if he blinked, the figure would just disappear right before him.

"You didn't tell anyone you'd be late."

Scared that the moment he tried to run toward him, Fushiguro would just end up melting into a black sludge too.

"You didn't answer your phone, either."

Yuji could make out the shape of his silhouette now as he walked with one hand shoved in his pocket, the other clutching his phone. The glow of the screen lit up his face from below, casting sharp shadows over his blank expression.

"What's going–"

For the first time since running around the whole place, Yuji finally let his breath out in a broken sob. He lunged forward, wrapping his hands around him tighter and bringing him closer.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Yuji cried out. His fingers scraped at the fabric of his sweatshirt, making sure that it really was him, "Why did you summon it? I thought something happened!"

Yuji felt him tense up under him. He pressed his face into the crook of Fushiguro’s neck, his breath hot and uneven, "I thought you were hurt! I thought–"

Fushiguro leaned in, sliding one hand firmly around Yuji’s waist. He tangled the other into his hair, fingers combing through the pink strands to gently guide his head closer, until his cheek was pressed against Yuji’s ear. He didn't say anything, but his hand began to rub soothing circles into Yuji’s back.

They stood locked together in the center of the field, the silence of the place finally feeling peaceful instead of haunting. Yuji allowed himself to melt into the touch as Fushiguro's scent filled his nose, and then he felt the warmth of his body, and then just focused on feeling him breathe against him.

"Itadori," The softness of the voice was almost too much to bear. Yuji didn't want to open his eyes, terrified that whatever he saw in Fushiguro’s gaze would shatter the small piece of peace he’d just found.

Fushiguro let go of him, and he instantly felt the cold hit him where his hands had just been, "We need to talk," His breath grazed against Yuji's ear, "Something is wrong, and I just don't get it."

Fushiguro’s fingers brushed against his chin, and Yuji squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t resist as Fushiguro tilted his face upward, his grip gentle but firm enough to make him listen.

"I don't get… you," Fushiguro mumbled, his palm resting against Yuji’s cheek and thumb tracing the line of his jaw, "Did I do something?"

Yuji opened his eyes, unable to keep all of his fears and needs inside of him anymore, "I'm sorry."

"Fushiguro, can I ask you something?"

"Again with the questions? You just did."

They sat on the stairs, staring down at the field. The adrenaline had long faded, leaving Yuji feeling like a total idiot.

Fushiguro had to explain how he only left the shikigami there to let him know when Yuji was back, and had no idea it would send him into a full-blown panic attack.

Yuji tried to laugh it off, blaming his overreaction on his already questionable well-being. When Fushiguro heard what Yuji imagined had happened, he just sighed at the sheer absurdity of it, telling him to lay off the late-night thrillers.

But then he pressed for why he was so frazzled in the first place, and Yuji just went quiet.

It was pretty dumb to assume Fushiguro was on his deathbed under normal circumstances, but Yuji had been a living wreck for the past week, and his brain didn't function like normal. It was all about hopeless pining and suffering there. He couldn't exactly admit that he’d spent the whole day mourning a relationship that wasn’t even real.

"Right. Sorry." Yuji sniffed into his elbow.

"…Just ask it," Fushiguro urged, his voice softening, "Whatever it is."

Yuji wanted to let it all out and explain his feelings– that he was in love with him, that the mere thought of him with someone else felt like a stab to his chest, and that he’d been at war with his own mind for the past week.

He wanted to confess his fears– that Yuji was going to ruin their friendship with this, that he was replaceable, and that Yuji's stupidity would end up hurting him. That he was doing too much and that by wanting more, he would end up with nothing.

But he couldn't say all of it at once, so he had to start somewhere. Yuji knew it had to start with the dumb conversation, which ended up as the catalyst for this whole mess. The questions that were born of it, and specifically, the one question that had been haunting him.

"What does… unshakeable personality mean to you?"

Yuji couldn’t bring himself to look up. It felt pathetic to be this hung up on something Fushiguro had probably forgotten ever saying, stooping so low just to make sense of what he was feeling.

Fushiguro let out a low, tired groan, "Kugisaki told you that."

Yuji gave a small, defeated nod, "I've been wondering what it means, and I just don't get it."

The silence that followed was heavy, stretching out between them on the cold stairs. Yuji didn't want to push too far, so he just stared at his own hands, waiting while Fushiguro gathered his thoughts.

"The name speaks for itself, doesn't it?" Fushiguro finally said, leaning back.

"Not to me," Yuji frowned, his heart sinking a little further, "Is it a person who keeps going despite being beaten down? That remains kind, even when others don't treat them with the same kindness?"

Yuji was rambling, his hands gesturing vaguely in the dark as his heart raced, "Someone who puts everyone else first, always? Or just someone really strong? Is that it? What does it mean, Fushiguro?"

Fushiguro just stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, "You've been thinking about this really hard, huh?"

"Yeah," He mumbled, the fire dying out of him as quickly as it had started. He slumped back down, defeated, "And I don't think I understand it, still."

Silence again. Yuji felt like ripping his own ears in front of him just to make him realize how much he needed to know. What does it mean? Can he become that person? Or would it not matter anyway?

And then he heard it. A low groan– or, no. It was a chuckle?

Fushiguro leaned forward, covering his mouth with his hand, but he couldn't hide the way his shoulders were shaking. Yuji stared at him, eyes wide and heart sinking. He always wanted to be the one to make him laugh, but not like that. Was Fushiguro actually laughing at how pathetic he was?

"Why are you laughing?" Yuji pleaded, his fingers digging into his knees, "I'm serious!"

"I'm sorry, it's just–" Fushiguro took a breath, trying to steady himself, "Did it really bother you that much?"

He leaned back against the step, his expression turning into something Yuji had never seen before– not on him. His cheeks were tinged with color, his mouth curled up into a subtle smile, "Unwavering humanity."

"Huh?"

Maybe it was the rare delight on Fushiguro’s face that had wiped his mind clean, or the sound of that raspy chuckle echoing in his head like a prayer, but Yuji just did not get it. Still.

"Someone compassionate, you idiot," Fushiguro shook his head, "Don't look at me like that. I can't dumb it down further, even if I tried to."

"That’s... that’s all?"

"That's all."

"Oh."

Compassionate. Yuji spent a whole week crying over whether he was compassionate. It was that simple. He didn't know if it made him compassionate enough, but it sure as hell made him a fucking idiot.

Fushiguro scooted closer, looking far away in the distance, "Are you disappointed?"

"No," Yuji shook his head, closing his eyes, "It all makes sense, now."

The answer to the other question became obvious.

Yuji pictured Todo’s encouraging smile and his aggressive, but genuine kindness. His passion to make others grow into a better version of themselves. He was the kind of person who changed people just by being near them. Todo was the embodiment of that ideal.

Damn it, no wonder Fushiguro fell for him.

And Yuji wasn't quite there, not with all he had to learn about being a better person. He didn't blame Fushiguro for following his heart, but that selfish part of him couldn't help but think of the what-ifs. Would he have had a chance if he were the one helping others with his strength? Would he be the one that Fushiguro fell in love with?

"Listen, I've heard some things," He forced the words out, trying to bury his own heart under the weight of them, "I know… I know that you're in love with someone."

His eyes widened for a second, but then flashed with amusement, "Oh, yeah? What about it?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Yuji turned towards him, "I know I've been an ass for the past week, and there's no excuse for it. I'm sorry."

He couldn't push his feelings on Fushiguro anymore. His heart belonged to another, and that's that. Yuji was ready for the rejection. He was ready for–

Fushiguro slid his hand over his. He wasn't ready for Fushiguro’s hand to slide over his.

"Go on," Fushiguro said in a low voice, and the pressure of his touch made Yuji feel lightheaded.

"I was confused about my own feelings, and I took it out on you," Yuji said, finally forcing himself to meet his gaze, "It wasn't fair."

"Mhm," Fushiguro cocked his head to the side, a dangerous spark in his eyes.

"I will always be there for you." Yuji spoke up, sure of his resolve now, "Always."

As he looked at him, Yuji thought of something far more important than the jealousy and the messy turmoil in his heart. He realized he no longer cared whether Fushiguro felt the same or not, and whether he had liked Todo or not.

"Yeah," His voice dropped to a hum that sent a shiver down Yuji’s spine, "I hope so."

"And–" Yuji stuttered, his eyes shaking, "And–"

"And?" Fushiguro leaned in, so close his breath grazed against Yuji's cheek, "Spit it out, Itadori. Or do you want me to do it?"

He just wanted him to be there, alive and breathing, where Yuji could see him.

It didn’t matter if Yuji wasn't the one who'd get to hold his hand, brush his hair, or stand next to him. If he could just stay in this world with him, tease him, and catch the limpses of his perfect smile, Yuji would be happy. He would learn to live with this heartbreak because Fushiguro was worth it.

He was worth everything.

Yuji squeezed Fushiguro’s hand for the last time, finally ready to say goodbye to the dreams of their future together, "I know you're in love with Todo. I will help you get with him."

"…What?"

Fushiguro yanked his hand back instantly. The utter coldness of his voice as it cracked froze Yuji in place, and he panicked.

Shit.

"I won't say a word to him! Well, unless you want me to– I won't, if you don't!" He quickly raised his hands in defense, waving them, "I mean, I can just drop some hints! And–"

Yuji might have been the sole person in this universe who could mess up something as simple as trying to help his buddy bag a guy. Unshakeable, his ass. He was being too pushy, too nosy, too–

"–No, the hell you won't!"

He was pulled forward by the collar with such violent force that the fabric tightened against his throat, almost choking him. Yuji clawed at Fushiguro’s wrist, but the moment he saw his face, he almost shit his pants.

"What the fuck are you even saying?"

Fushiguro wasn't annoyed by his attempt at matchmaking. He was utterly, undisputedly, fully, extremely, thoroughly, downright, outright, absolutely fucking disgusted by that notion. At least that's what that terrible, twisted grimace on his face had told him.

"I'm not into that fucking gorilla!" He exploded like a bomb, completely red in the face, and that one vein on his forehead popped out as if it was going to burst all over.

"But–" Yuji tried to pull away, but the collar around his neck just got tighter, "Kugisaki– She told me–" He wheezed out.

"And you believed her?" His eyes were bulging, almost on the verge of popping out of his sockets, "Are you insane? Use your brain!"

"But you said–" Yuji pleaded, hands still scrabbling at Fushiguro’s wrists, "You agreed that there was someone special! And Todo fits the description!"

"Fits? Fits how?" Fushiguro gagged, the sound tearing out of his throat. That pure, raw desperation in his voice almost scared Yuji.

"He's pretty compassionate! He helped me, and–"

"Itadori, for fuck's sake– Everyone hates Todo!" He said the word like a slur. All of them, actually, "Everyone! He's an ass, he's a delusional weirdo, and you are the only person he's decent to! There's nothing compassionate about a guy who beats the shit out of people for no reason!"

"You don't like him?" Yuji asked, his voice small, "But then… who is that person? That unshakeable someone?"

Fushiguro's mouth hung wide open, "Are you serious?"

Yuji just stared at him like a kicked puppy. Like a very confused, kicked puppy. Except instead of being kicked, the puppy was almost choked to death.

In a split second, the rage was gone. Fushiguro let go of his collar and collapsed back on the stairs, burying his head in his arms. He didn't even look mad anymore, just completely defeated.

A muffled, hollow laugh escaped from his lips, "Are you that dense?"

"I–" Yuji whispered, his voice cracking, "I just– I just wanted to make you happy."

And he failed miserably. Yuji felt like the biggest failure on earth, actually. He had sacrificed his own feelings, swallowed down his jealousy, and even tried going out of his way to help, all for it to end up in a disaster.

"Itadori…"

Fushiguro grabbed hold of his collar again, leaving Yuji breathless, but this time without actually making it hard to breathe physically. He pulled him in gently, his other hand coming up to cup Yuji’s jaw, thumb brushing against his cheek.

"…Fushiguro?" Yuji's voice was barely a squeak. He braced himself, fully expecting to be choked for his crimes against romance. Again.

"Shut up," Fushiguro breathed the words out, his forehead resting against Yuji's, "Say a single word, and I'll strangle you right here and then."

Yuji just didn't know anymore. He didn't know if Fushiguro hated him, wanted to kill him, or was just having some kind of a stroke–

"It's you, idiot. You're my type."

He didn't get to respond. He didn't get to think, even. Not with Fushiguro's lips pressing against his.

All the previous times this week that Yuji thought his mind went blank suddenly seemed so small in comparison. Now, it felt like his thoughts were being physically dug out of his brain, one by one, replaced by the sensation of Fushiguro's fingers scraping gently against his skull. The tenderness of the gesture was a stark contrast compared to Yuji's own desperate, starving tug at his neck to pull him closer.

Fushiguro's lower lip felt plush against the dry skin on Yuji's own, but thankfully, he didn't seem to mind– if anything, Fushiguro was more than eager to help him by dragging the tip of his tongue along the seam of his mouth, soothing it with a hot, wet trail of saliva that left him breathless. The cold of the stairs was forgotten as the searing heat of Fushiguro's tongue pushed further in.

Yuji's eyelids fluttered, a wave of pure pleasure washing over him. He grabbed onto his sweatshirt, fingers clinging into the fabric desperately, trying not to collapse to his knees. Every breath between the kiss sent a shiver down his spine, and Yuji had to stop himself from whining into Fushiguro's warm mouth, needy and embarrassing.

Yuji’s hand slid down to grip Fushiguro’s waist, while his other hand buried itself deep in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. He was scared of using too much force on him, but as Fushiguro's arms wrapped around his neck and he could feel his chest pressing against him, melting under him, it became harder to think about anything other than the heated sensation of their tongues swirling together.

Slowly, agonizingly so, Fushiguro pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected their lips for a heartbeat before breaking. Yuji swayed, drunk on the sensation. He tried to lean in again, chasing his mouth, but Fushiguro just pressed his forehead firmly against Yuji's, his hands sliding up to cup his face and hold him in place.

"Not bad," Fushiguro breathed out, his thumb sweeping the drop of spit from the corner of Yuji’s mouth, "But I guess I'll have to go and compare with the gorilla, just to be sure."

Yuji wanted to chuckle at the smug look on Fushiguro's face, but just the thought of the joke becoming reality sent him into a spiral again. He grabbed his collar and brought him closer with a sharp tug, before biting down on his lower lip to shut him up. Fushiguro flinched, but then a low laugh vibrated against Yuji’s lips, their teeth grazing against each other.

"Don't you dare," Yuji groaned, keeping their noses pressed together, "You don't even know what I've been through just thinking about it."

"That's what you get for talking shit behind my back," Fushiguro let out a chuckle, furrowing his eyebrows, "And for confusing the hell out of me, dickhead."

"I'm the one who's confused!" Yuji leaned back, dragging Fushiguro with him by the collar, "I saw you together! In your room! You're playing both sides, or something?"

"What are you talking–" Fushiguro hissed, gripping Yuji’s wrist tight, but then his face softened. He sighed, ducking his head to look at their tangled hands, "It's not like that, Itadori."

"Sure looked like it. Closing the curtains and shit so no one could see," Yuji accused, pouting, "And don't even tell me if you lit that freaking candle."

"I would have explained if you let me," Fushiguro frowned, gently prying Yuji's fingers off his collar, "But you stopped talking to me, and then you just… disappeared."

Yuji let his hands fall to his knees, a little embarrassed now, "…I'm sorry. I just– I lost it. I thought I lost you."

"Dumbass," Fushiguro placed his palms over Yuji's, rubbing circles over his knuckles, "You have me. Always have."

He tugged Yuji’s hands, pulling him just enough to force their eyes to meet. He was smiling at him, with that beautiful and gentle smile Yuji had dreamed of every night since he realized his feelings.

"I love you," Fushiguro murmured. The moment Yuji heard those words come out of his mouth, the whole world disappeared into the void, "Only you."

Yuji felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but he bit his lip, determined to hold them back. The last thing he needed was to look like the biggest crybaby ever in front of the man of his dreams.

"Now say it back," Fushiguro leaned in, until his lips pressed against Yuji's ear, "Or I'll throw you down onto that field, Itadori. Though knowing you, you might like that."

"Gaaah! I love you! I love you!" Yuji screamed out, shamelessly, his heart ready to burst out of his chest. He could finally say it, and he would, every day until the day he'd die. That was his promise, his vow to protect him, and his curse meant to keep them together, "I do. So much…"

Fushiguro looked pleased with that answer. Yuji turned his head and started leaving a trail of small pecks all over his pretty face. One on the nose, then the corner of his lips, a longer, sweeter one on his cheek, and then back to his lips for good measure.

The sound of a phone buzzing stopped him in his tracks, and he groaned. Fushiguro's hand went towards his pocket, but Yuji caught it, a bit more demanding than he intended, "Again with the phone? Who the fuck keeps blowing you up like that?"

Fushiguro scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Calm down, dipshit. You've been my boyfriend for like five minutes. Stop trying to boss me around."

Boyfriend.

He liked the sound of that. No, scratch that, he loved it. The word echoed in his head, and now that Fushiguro said it out loud, all of his doubts evaporated instantly. Yuji couldn't remember why he was bothered by the phone in the first place.

"It's Kugisaki," He turned the screen so the light hit Yuji’s face, "It was her back in the room, too, just so you know. I don't want you getting any more weird ideas."

"Oh!" Yuji let go of his wrist, groaning as he stretched his arms over his head, "Did something happen?"

Fushiguro shook his head. He grabbed Yuji’s hand to lead him down the stairs, "Just follow me. You'll understand."

"Surprise!"

A blast of confetti exploded right before his eyes, a shower of colorful paper raining down on them. The screech of multiple party blowers filled the small room instantly, and he had to cover his ears.

Yuji stood frozen in the doorway, blinking in shock as the smoke cleared to reveal everyone. They were all huddled there, squeezed into the small space of Fushiguro's room, looking pleased with themselves.

"Happy birthday, Yuji," Maki slammed her hand against his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him, "We thought you'd never make it here."

She whispered through gritted teeth, though loud enough for everyone to hear, "Took you long enough, Megumi."

Having spent his past few days moping about and feeling sorry for himself, Yuji had completely forgotten about his upcoming birthday, which clearly turned out to be his incoming birthday. Suddenly, everything wrong about this week started to make a bit more sense.

"Where the hell were you?" Kugisaki marched right up to them and shoved him back, waving her phone in his face, "What is it with you two morons and not answering messages? The next time, I'll–"

Panda pulled her back and put his fluffy paw over her mouth, and Kugisaki screamed into his fur, thumping his side with her fists.

"It's okay, we can start!" He called out over her muffled insults. Inumaki appeared from behind them, offering Yuji a peace sign with one hand while using the other to stop Kugisaki's flailing legs.

"Yuji!"

A large hand landed on his head, ruffling his hair with aggressive affection before pulling him into a side-hug.

"Sensei!" Yuji beamed up, laughing into the man's uniform, "You're here, too?!"

"Of course. I'm your teacher, after all." Gojo let go of him, but not before showing off the massive white cake in his hand, "It's only natural that I look after my students' development. And it just so happens that birthdays are essential for that."

Fushiguro scowled, "Don't listen to him, Itadori. He's just here for the cake."

"Now, now, Megumi–" In a split second, Gojo warped behind him, draping his long arm around Fushiguro's neck and dragging him into a headlock, "Don't try to ruin the fun just because it's not your birthday."

He groaned, struggling against Gojo’s grip, "Let go, you–"

"Brooother!"

A roar exploded in the room. Massive arms wrapped around his torso, and just like that, Yuji was lifted high into the air. Todo spun him around, swinging him side to side as Yuji struggled to break free of his grip.

"Todo?!" Yuji kicked his legs in the air, lowering his head just before it hit the ceiling, "You're still in Tokyo?"

"Happy birthday, my brother!" Todo bellowed, crushing him in a tight hug as Yuji groaned in pain. He dropped him to the ground, but not before slamming his heavy palms onto Yuji’s shoulders, staring deep into his soul, "I wouldn't be able to call myself your best friend if I had missed it."

"Thanks…" Yuji wheezed out, cracking his shoulder, "I appreciate it."

Todo flashed him a blinding thumbs up, a confident smile plastered on his face, "Since I'm here, we should go and–"

"Itadori."

Fushiguro appeared from behind him, the top of his sweatshirt tousled, and grabbed Yuji’s arm, "Can we talk now?"

Yuji looked back and forth between them, conflicted. Fushiguro didn't even bother sparing Todo a glance, let alone try to acknowledge his presence, while Todo just made a grimace and shook his head.

"We'll catch up in a moment, brother," Todo sighed, waving his hand dismissively as he turned to leave. "Forgive me. I can't stand the presence of such boring men."

Nope. No love lost there.

Fushiguro led him to the corner of his room, now transformed into a whole party corner with birthday banners and balloons all around. His desk now held a bunch of snacks, bottles of soda, and paper plates.

Fushiguro looked to the table, and then back to him, "Do you understand, now?"

"Yeah," Yuji nodded, a grin stretching so wide it almost made his cheeks hurt, "I can't believe you did all this. For me."

"It was mostly Gojo, honestly." He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms, "Kugisaki and I just helped. Never doing this again, just so you know. It was a total bitch to organize."

Yuji laughed, squeezing his hand tighter, "It's alright. It's the best birthday I could have asked for."

He glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure everyone was busy with something else, and then came up closer to him. Yuji pressed his hand against the wall, right next to Fushiguro's head.

"So," He leaned in with a smirk, "I'm hoping that birthday kiss wasn't just a one-time fluke?"

"It wasn't," Fushiguro scoffed, pressing a finger firmly into the center of his chest, "You would have gotten it earlier, but I panicked. Your fault, by the way."

"Mine? How?"

"I was trying to tell you, but you just wouldn't shut up!" He argued, "And then right in the middle of it, Kugisaki texted me that the cake got absolutely fucked in delivery and I would have to call the company, and then you pulled back–"

Fushiguro let out a long breath, sliding a hand up to cover his flushed face, "…I got overwhelmed."

"Seriously?" Yuji whined, letting his forehead hit against the wall next to Fushiguro’s head, "You could have saved me a heartbreak, you know?"

"Shut up," Fushiguro shoved him back lightly, "Be grateful. I even got your precious gorilla to be here."

He fluttered his eyelashes, the corners of his mouth curling up, "Don't ask me how I convinced him, though. You won't like it."

Yuji let out a low chuckle, cocking his head to the side, "I can imagine. You're pretty persuasive when you want to be."

"Only to the most unshakeable."

Fushiguro tugged him forward by the front of his hoodie. Their lips pressed together– not desperate like on the stairs, but soft. Like a silent promise.

"Happy birthday, Yuji," Fushiguro murmured against his lips.

Yuji smiled into the kiss, finally at peace, "It is, Megumi."