Arabella

He was seated near the low table with one knee raised, a scroll open beside him and his cloak folded over the back of a chair. He had returned from a short journey two days ago, which meant the house still carried that strange, private relief of him being there. His sandals were by the door, his sword was propped where it always stood, within reach but not in the way, there was an extra cup beside the kettle again, and one of his shirts had been left drying near the veranda.

Small proofs, ordinary ones. The kind you had once learnt not to take for granted.

"I'm home," you called, stepping into the genkan. Your voice almost managed it, and that is what made Sasuke look at you properly.

His gaze scanned over you in a single, measured sweep, taking in the set of your shoulders, the tightness around your mouth, the way your fingers held the strap of your bag as though letting go of it would require more strength than keeping it there. You had worn that face before. Not often, but enough that he recognised it. It was the face you wore when the day had taken more from you than you wanted to admit, when you were trying to cross the threshold without dragging the ache in behind you.

"Hm," he answered.

That simple response should not have been comforting. Somehow, it was.

You slipped off your sandals, slower than usual, and bent to straighten them by the door. The motion nearly undid you. A long day could do that; hold you upright through every duty, every conversation, every expectation, then try to break you over something as small as lining up your shoes at your own door.

You took too long. Behind you, Sasuke closed the scroll, the faint clap of paper settling into itself carrying through the room.

"I'm fine," you answered before he could ask.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at you.

You winced. "That was…too fast, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

A laugh left you, thin and worn around the edges. "I'm just tired. It's nothing dramatic."

Sasuke stood. There was no alarm in it, no rush, no grand display of concern. He simply crossed the room and came to stand in front of you, close enough that the warmth of his body reached through the evening chill still clinging to your clothes. You could smell rain on the air outside, sesame from the kitchen, the faint trace of smoke and clean fabric that always seemed to linger on him after travel.

He held out his hand. "Give me your bag."

"I can carry a bag, Sasuke."

"I know."

You squinted at him then. He did not move. There was no pity in his face, no impatience either. Only the familiar, infuriating certainty that made resistance feel more exhausting than surrender.

Your fingers loosened. The strap slid from your shoulder into his hand, and the absence of its weight was immediate. The ache in your neck shifted, your skin prickled where the fabric had been digging into you. You hated that something so small helped so much.

Sasuke set the bag down near the wall, out of the walkway, then reached past you to close the door fully. The latch clicked into place, the evening air was shut outside, the smell of the house gathered around you again, warmer now, rice and tea and the faint, dry sweetness of old wood.

Home, sealed against the world.

Sasuke glanced down at your hands.

You curled them into your sleeves. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything," he replied.

"You were about to."

His mouth shifted, almost a smile. "You're guessing."

"I live with you. I have advanced warning systems now."

Sasuke only hummed in response, the almost-smile disappearing quickly, but you saw it. You always saw it.

He turned towards the kitchen. “Sit down.”

“I should wash up first.”

“You can do that after.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten.”

“That isn't what I said.”

“No, but it matters.”

You stared at his back as he moved away, one sleeve pinned empty at his side, his remaining hand already reaching for the bowls. Years ago, you might have argued more. Years ago, he might have made the whole thing sharper than it needed to be, concern hidden too well beneath irritation. Both of you had learnt different forms of gentleness since then. Not perfect ones, but real enough.

You made it as far as the low table before lowering yourself onto the cushion. The relief of sitting down hit your body all at once. Your legs ached, your shoulders throbbed from where your bag had dragged at them all day, the muscles in your jaw loosened only when you realised you had been clenching them. For a moment, all you could do was close your eyes and let the house hold the parts of you that you could no longer keep upright alone.

In the kitchen, Sasuke moved with the solemn concentration of a man performing a task that had once been unfamiliar but now mattered because it belonged to someone he loved. He had never become fussy about food. He did not decorate bowls or worry over presentation, but he had learnt what you could manage after bad days—rice soft enough to be easy, broth warmed through, greens with sesame, tea poured fresh once he realised the first pot had gone bitter.

You heard the lid lift from the pot.

Steam breathed into the room carrying ginger and spring onion with it. A spoon clinked against ceramic, water ran briefly, the kettle was moved off the heat with a dull little scrape. These were ordinary sounds but they landed in your lap with careful hands.

You rested your forehead against your folded arms on the table. 

The house settled around you.

Beyond the open inner doors, the garden shifted in the evening breeze. Maple leaves near the veranda brushed together, their shadows moving across the floor in broken pieces. Water ticked from the bamboo spout into the stone basin, patient and unhurried. The sound filled the spaces where words might have gone.

That was the part that made your throat ache—the not-asking.

Sasuke brought the food over in two trips because he refused help and had become remarkably skilled at making refusal look efficient. First, a bowl appeared in front of you, steam curling against your face. Then tea, pale and hot, set near your hand. Then came water, because he had noticed that you always forgot it when you were tired.

Finally, he sat beside you instead of across from you, close enough that his knee touched yours beneath the table. The contact was deliberate.

You lifted your head.

The broth in front of you smelt of ginger and spring onion, simple and savoury, with a warmth that touched your face before you even lifted the spoon. Sasuke took his own chopsticks and looked down at his food instead of watching you too closely.

"Eat first," he started, and your eyes burned at once, "then decide if you want to talk."

Other people would have meant well and asked too much, too soon.

What happened? Who upset you? Why didn't you tell me? Are you alright?

Sasuke did not turn your exhaustion into a report you had to deliver before anyone cared for you. He put food in front of you, he sat close enough for his knee to rest against yours under the table, he gave you the choice of words later, when they no longer sat beneath your ribs like something sharp trying to break free.

You stared down at the bowl until the steam blurred.

"Sasuke."

"Hm?"

"You don't have to do this."

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, without looking up, he replied, "You came home tired."

That was his whole explanation, as if it were obvious, as if that alone answered everything.

A shaky breath slipped out of you. You reached for the spoon, mostly to give your hands something to do. The ceramic felt warm against your fingers. The first mouthful burned a little, but not badly, then the broth settled through you with an almost embarrassing kindness. Your body, treacherous thing, remembered all at once that you had asked it to survive on stubbornness and half a mango since morning.

Sasuke noticed the moment you took a second bite and said nothing. That, too, felt like mercy.

For a while, the two of you ate in the low amber glow of the room. The windows reflected your home back at you, your table, the bowls, the kettle, Sasuke beside you in dark clothes with his hair falling loose around his face. Older now than the boy who had once treated tenderness like a trap. Reserved, still, and sharp in the bones of him, always, but here, in this house, with his knee pressed against yours and his hand near your cup, he offered something steadier than reassurance.

You ate half the bowl before your appetite faltered.

Sasuke's gaze flicked towards you.

"I'm eating," you said defensively.

"I didn't speak."

"You were thinking loudly."

"You're avoiding the vegetables."

"I'm emotionally wounded," you told him, spoon hovering over the bowl. "I shouldn't be held accountable for vegetables right now."

His mouth softened at the corner. "Eat them."

"You are so strict."

"You like them."

"I like them when I'm not being perceived by the vegetable police."

This time, the sound he made almost became a laugh. It started low in his chest, brief and rough, then vanished before it could incriminate him. It helped more than you expected.

You picked up the greens and ate them with exaggerated dignity. "There. Honour restored."

"Hm."

"Do not 'hm' me after I obeyed your vegetable command."

"You're talking more," Sasuke observed.

You looked down at the broth.

So you were. Not much, not about the day you had, not about the ache itself, but enough that the room no longer felt like it was balancing on the thin edge of pretending. Enough that your voice had begun to sound like it belonged to you again.

Sasuke reached for the teapot and refilled your cup. His hand moved with familiar precision. Lamplight caught along his knuckles, over old scars and lean tendons, over the strength you knew so well. Tea streamed into the cup, fragrant and golden, and you watched the surface tremble as he set it down near your hand.

You thought, suddenly and painfully, of how many times he had returned to empty rooms before this house became yours together. How many years he had spent moving through the world with only duty for company, believing distance could keep the people he loved safe.

Yet here he was, home before you. Warming food, refilling your cup, not leaving.

Something must have shifted in your face, because Sasuke set the teapot down and turned towards you fully.

"What is it?" he asked. Gentle, for him. Careful in the way he offered it.

You swallowed. "Nothing."

His expression flattened at once.

You tried again. "Not nothing. I just—" 

Words gathered behind your teeth, tangled, failed. Sasuke waited.

That was another thing he had learnt, or maybe it had always been in him, that patience, once he stopped using silence as a wall and learnt how to make it shelter instead. He did not rush to fill the space. He did not rescue you from needing to speak, but he also did not punish you for struggling either.

You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hand. "I just— I tried really hard today."

His eyes remained fixed on your face.

"I know that sounds stupid," you added quickly.

"It doesn't."

"It does," you argued, your voice thinning despite your best efforts. "I didn't do anything extraordinary. I just…got through it, and by the end I felt like even that was too much."

Your voice cracked on the last word and you hated it. Hated how your body betrayed you here, in the one place safe enough for it to happen. Your throat tightened, your fingers curled around the spoon until the edge of it pressed into your palm. 

Sasuke shifted closer. He did not touch you immediately, he knew better than to assume. Instead, he let his knee press more firmly against yours against the table, a question offered in the language of old trust. You answered by leaning into him.

His arm came around you after that, careful and solid. He drew you against his side, not tightly enough to trap you, but firmly enough that you no longer had to hold yourself together by force. His shirt felt warm beneath your cheek. You could feel the slow rise of his breath, the steady line of his body beside yours, the place where his hand settled against your shoulder with deliberate care.

You turned your face into him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

His arm tightened around you. "For what?"

"For coming home like this…"

The air seemed to hold its breath for a moment, then Sasuke lowered his face until his cheek rested against the top of your head.

"You came home," he replied. "That's the important part."

It should have been simple, and perhaps it was simple, perhaps that was why is reached you so cleanly. You cried then, not prettily, not neatly, not in any way that made sense. Just tears that came hot and sudden, pressed into the dark fabric of his shirt. Sasuke held you through it without flinching. He did not tell you it was fine, he knew better than most that some hurts do not shrink just because someone wished they would.

His hand moved once over your back, slow from shoulder to spine, awkward only because he was being careful.

The garden clicked and rustled beyond the open doors, bamboo knocked lightly against stone. Somewhere deeper in the village, a dog barked twice, then settled. The kettle gave up its last thread of steam beside the hearth and the world went on with its ordinary little sounds, but it no longer felt as if you had to keep it turning by force.

"I don't want to talk about all of it," you murmured eventually, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Then don't."

"I might tomorrow…"

"Okay."

"Or not."

"That's okay, too."

You let out a shaky breath. "What if it comes out badly?"

"Then it comes out badly."

A small, wet laugh escaped you. "That isn't comforting."

"It's true."

"Your bedside manner hasn't improved much."

"You're not in bed."

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. Sasuke looked entirely unrepentant. 

The glare failed almost immediately. You were too tired, and he sat too close, his arm still solid around you, his warmth seeping through the fabric between you. Something about the dry line of his mouth loosened the pressure behind your ribs until the heaviness no longer felt impossible to carry.

"I hate when you're funny by accident," you muttered.

"I'm not."

"Yeah, that's why it's by accident."

His eyes gentled, only slightly. Enough to make you want to cry again for an entirely different reason.

Sasuke reached for your cup and placed it into your hands. His fingers brushed yours as he did, warm from the bowl, calloused from years of steel and travel. "Drink."

"You're taking care of me like this is a mission," you said, wrapping both hands around the cup.

"It is."

"What's the objective?"

Sasuke looked at you for a long moment. The years had changed the answer he might once have given. A younger Sasuke would have looked away, he might have hidden everything important inside irritation or silence and trusted you to infer what he could not say. The man before you still did not offer tenderness carelessly, but he had learnt that withholding the trust did not always protect anyone. Sometimes it only made the house colder.

"You," he replied at last.

Your heart did something foolish in your chest.

"You can't just say that," you whispered in horror.

"I did."

"Yes, and now I have to survive it!"

"Hm."

You laughed again, small but real, and drank the tea because he was watching and because the heat of it helped. It slid down your throat, sweetened faintly with honey you knew he only kept because you liked it, and settled into your chest like a warm hand pressed there.

After dinner, Sasuke cleared the table before you could stand. You made one weak attempt to protest and he ignored it with the calm authority he used when facing gods, monsters, and Naruto Uzumaki's worst ideas, and therefore had no intention of losing to your guilt over dirty bowls. He rinsed each dish with efficient care, one-handed and unbothered by it, while you retreated to the engawa with the blanket he had left folded nearby.

The night air had cooled as summer had begun to loosen its hold on the village, leaving the dark mild at the edges. Lantern-light glowed through the paper screens behind you, turning the verands honey-gold at your back. The garden lay silvered under the moon, every leaf and stone familiar because the two of you had placed them there over time.

A home did not arrive whole, it gathered itself around you.

A mug chosen from a market stall. A plant kept alive through three summers. The sword stand by the door. His cloak folded over the same chair whenever he came back from a journey. Your sandals beside his in the genkan.

You pulled the blanket around your shoulders. The fabric still held a little warmth from the house, and the hem brushed your bare ankles as you tucked your feet beneath you. Sasuke came out after a few minutes and sat down beside you.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

He looked out over the garden while you looked at him. There were still absences in him, there always would be. Long journeys, old grief, the missing arm. The things he had done, the things he had survived, the pauses he carried not because they were empty, but because some memories did not belong in the middle of an ordinary night.

There was also this.

His shoulder beside yours, his cup cooling inside, his home no longer waiting empty, his presence offered without demand.

You leaned against him. Sasuke adjusted at once, letting your head settle against his shoulder. After a moment, his hand found yours beneath the blanket and his fingers thread through yours with care, slow enough that you could refuse, certain enough that you did not need to. His thumb rested against the inside of your wrist where your pulse still beat too fast from crying.

"I'm glad you were here," you whispered after a while.

He looked down at where your hands were joined under the fabric. 

"So am I."

He said it softly enough that only you and the garden heard. You closed your eyes.

For a while, that was all the comfort you needed; the cool night air on your face, the warm blanket over your knees, the steady weight of him beside you, and the knowledge that you did not always have to be easy to love in order to be loved well.

Eventually, your body began to give in. Your head grew heavier against his shoulder, the day loosened its grip, not gone but father away now, pushed beyond the gate where it could wait until morning. 

Sasuke shifted.

You made a small, protesting sound and curled your fingers more tightly around his.

"I'm not leaving," he murmured.

Your eyes opened half-way. "Promise?"

His thumb moved once over your skin. "I'm here."

For Sasuke, that was a promise. You believed him.

When sleep started to pull at you again you felt him turn slightly towards you as he pulled his hand out of yours for a moment. Two fingers touched your forehead, light as memory, gentle as the kind of love he had once been afraid to keep.

"Rest."

You let yourself sink a little further into the warmth of him, into the house you had made together, into the safety of the village settling around you for the night.

“What do you think?”

He stepped closer until he noticed how tightly your hands gripped the faucet. Oh.

“I’m sorry, [Name]. I think there was a misunderstanding. I realized too late that I should’ve sent a message back.”

Your voice was low enough for him to hear every word clearly.

“A misunderstanding? A misunderstanding about what exactly, Kakashi?”

Kakashi knew he had better explain quickly. You looked like a ticking bomb.

Still, he doubted he’d get out of this so easily.

“As you know, Team 7 was assigned that mission... I didn’t realize I should tell you that, although rare, there was still some risk involved.”

There was something hidden in his gaze that made your heart leap for a second.

“What happened? Something really happened, didn’t it?”

The lack of an immediate answer was enough.

One of your worst fears had been correct. His life had been in danger too.

Kakashi’s eyes widened slightly at your unusual reaction, watching the different emotions cross your face as you articulated words in a foreign language.

「卧槽！你為什么不告诉我？你太过分了! 」
“Fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re impossible, Kakashi!”

He tried to raise his hands in surrender, but you had already turned away, slapping the countertop in frustration.

Hearing you switch to your native language to express sadness and anger was new to him. It felt as though you were using a jutsu he had never encountered before—which was rare.

He exhaled heavily at the same moment you did.

The sound made you tilt your head slightly before straightening your back and turning around. Your lower back hit the counter once again, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Your tongue felt heavy, but you had to say it. A composed shinobi shouldn’t react like that.

“I’m sorry, Kakashi. I shouldn’t have yelled. The most important thing is that you’re alive... and the kids are too. Good job.”

Who were you trying to fool with that trembling voice? Why did you feel the urge to hide your emotions from him?

Fuck. He saw the redness in your eyes, tears only moments away from staining your cheeks. At that point, Kakashi stopped caring about how you might react. He crossed the kitchen in a few firm strides until his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his embrace.

Kakashi rested his chin atop your head, one hand brushing through your hair before cupping your face, his knuckles grazing your cheek gently. You sniffled quietly until he spoke, causing you to pull back slightly and look up at him.

“Don’t apologize. You must’ve been scared all alone.”

Your glare was much cuter now, not nearly as terrifying.

“I wasn’t scared alone! I was scared because of you!”

He watched you press your face against his chest, giving him just enough time to conceal the vulnerability that flickered across his features at your sincere words. He adjusted his tone. His other hand moved to rub your back soothingly as his voice softened into a whisper.

“I’m here now.” His fingers lingered against your back. “I’m here now, love.”

Itachi

It wasn’t exactly justified or reasonable to yell at your partner, especially at someone like Itachi. It’s just... Itachi could sometimes be a pain in the ass.

It was strange for Itachi to forget something like this. Ever since the beginning of your relationship, he had paid attention to every detail, planning ahead and taking care of any possible need you might have. So how come he replied to your texts today saying he had forgotten about the little trip the two of you had planned to Iriomote Island? A barely populated place, perfect for the two of you, covered in dense jungle and mangrove thickets.

Before he came home, Itachi had no idea you were upset about it. Maybe a slight suspicion, since you always replied to his messages, but he figured you might be busy packing, excited for your anniversary getaway.

He knew you had sensed him the moment he stepped inside the house. Itachi had made a conscious effort not to startle you like he used to (unintentionally), with how silent and graceful his movements were. So why did you only spare him a brief glance from the couch? And only one tea cup? You must be tired, considering you usually waited for him with two cups, just as he often did for you.

“I’m home.”

You muttered under your breath.

“I can see.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek that left it flushed, yet your gaze remained sharp. Only afterward did he hang his coat on the rack, sensing the atmosphere in the room.

“Did something happen?” You shook your head, and the corner of Itachi’s mouth twitched at the innocent pout you gave him, prompting him to press further. “[Name]?”

You groaned, pushing yourself off the couch with your palms as you pretended to head toward the bedroom, your voice laced with irritation.

“What do you mean, ‘Did something happen,’ Itachi?”

He followed you with a faint smile, his steps slow behind you as you entered the room. His eyes quickly landed on the half-packed luggage scattered across the floor, one suitcase left open and unfinished.

“I understand you’re busy and all, but it surprised me when you told me you hadn’t bought the train tickets. We’ll definitely miss the cheaper prices, or even worse, we won’t find availability for the dates we wanted!”

You gestured wildly with your back turned to him, pacing around the room in frustration.

“We won’t lose them. Because... I already bought the tickets.”

You spun around abruptly, your eyes widening. Itachi’s own eyes widened slightly at your tone.

“What?”

You paused, thinking back to his message.

“You bought the tickets, didn’t you?”

“Did I? I’ll have to check…I’m not sure.”

Was he being sarcastic? Itachi? Through text messages?

“マジで、マジで、マジで！ いつも真面目すぎるよ！ そんなの知るわけないじゃん！
“Serious, serious, serious! You’re always serious! How was I supposed to know?”

Itachi didn’t move an inch from where he stood. The regret appeared on your face instantly after you had practically shouted at him.

“I-I’m sorry.”

He spoke calmly, his gaze showing no sign of being bothered by your reaction.

“What does your words mean?”

You dropped onto the edge of the bed, lowering your head slightly.

“That I’m never sure when you’re serious or not because you’re...”

“Always.”

“...always like this.” You lifted your gaze to him when he spoke at the same time as you while he gently patted your head after it. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”

He could see the regret in your eyes, making any further discussion feel unnecessary.

“I see. Then I’ll try to show you more sides of myself from now on.”

A small smile began to form on your face until he noticed the teasing glint in your eyes.

“Yeah? And which side of Uchiha Itachi should I be more aware of?”

His eyes mirrored yours—not as obvious, but still visible. At least to you.

Itachi crouched down and began organizing the luggage for the vacation.

“There’s plenty of time to discover them, my love.”

Sasuke

With Sasuke, it wasn’t hard not to get annoyed. Although complementary people, your attachment styles blended impeccably (when you wanted them to). Him avoidant, you disorganized (anxious-avoidant). You had to meet in the middle otherwise it would turn into an argument every time, and neither of you wanted that.

Although, you can’t say that you don’t end up at an emotional disadvantage sometimes with Sasuke. He definitely loves you, he’d even give his life for you, but sometimes…? Communication is no longer a problem, you’re not in kindergarten anymore, but comprehension? Different story.

Sometimes he listens, communicates, but doesn’t understand you exactly. Doesn’t understand from where are you coming from.

Like now when you asked him to come with you somewhere in town, just to hang out.

Sasuke had no clue right now, he didn’t know that his girlfriend was actually extremely irritated while getting ready to go out with the girls (also Naruto and the others). He barely lifted his gaze from his book when you slammed the mascara onto the desk.

“Tell me one good reason why you don’t wanna hang out with me.”

Sasuke looked up with a frown.

“With you?”

“Yes, with me. Most people come with their lovers, only I don’t! Never!” He didn’t like the voice that kept rising, shooting you a sharp look that made you roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Almost never!”

“I’m not in the mood for socializing with their exhausting energy. Is that really so hard to understand?”

Well, Sasuke is not blind. He realized he chose the wrong words and the wrong tone for a not-so-important problem he should’ve navigated gently because he knows what comes next.

“Ce dracu, Sasuke? E asa greu sa vii?”

“What the hell, Sasuke? Is it really that hard to come?”

When you instantly wiped the tear off your cheek and turned away, Sasuke immediately got up and walked toward you. Even though you had your back turned, Sasuke moved slowly, slowly toward you, until his hand stopped halfway there to know if he should embrace you. His fingers brushed yours.

He whispered, not any hint of anger in his own.

“What did you say?”

“You don’t like to hang out with me when we are with our friends?”

He shook his head at your insecure words, leaning slowly his head on your shoulder as he gazed at you.

“That’s not the case at all. I just… prefer to hang out less than you do. But…I’ll come tonight.”

Now you were the one shaking your head, looking at him, taking the hand that tried to take yours in his.

“No, no. I don’t wanna force you or—”

“You don’t. You can’t force me. I’ll come.”

No one can force Sasuke to do things he doesn’t want to. If he comes tonight, it’s not because he feels obligated. It’s because his comfort zone can be compromised to hang out outside more often if it means you’ll be happy.

You lowered your head toward his before you pressed a peck on his cheek. He leaned his forehead against yours too as he whispered.

“Sasuke?”

Your whisper was distinct in the empty house filled until now only with your warm presence. A presence Sasuke could not deceive himself anymore by saying he didn’t miss it. In more ways than just a singular one.

The dim lights struggling to penetrate the closed curtains due to the treacherously icy night could bring the only source of light illuminating your beautiful features and the soft glint in your eyes when you saw your lover.

“I’m home.”

With dainty footsteps, you helped him undress his full-length travelling cloak, placing it on the hanger by the door. You chuckled, glancing up at his tired features, the glint in his eyes hidden in the shadow of the corridor the house provided.

“You are.”

You let out a small gasp when you turned around, only to be stopped when his head leant until it rested on your bare shoulders — the nightgown being just a tank top with shallow straps, bare legs above the knee were under some loose shorts. Your arm lifted, palm touching his hair a little too long now, on the side.

“Rough mission?”

His head tilted slightly into your neck, inhaling your comforting scent as it left only a shiver down your body. Sasuke might be innocent, and that makes you feel bad, because even his short touches can make your mind spin.

Only he wasn't this time, and you noticed when his lips grazed across your neck before leaving a gentle kiss here. His arms come in front of you, over your belly, as he pushes you slowly against him. You gulped, closing your eyes as one of your hands comes over his, the other still touching half of his face.

You glance up, and you finally see the look in his eyes. He whispered, glancing once for your lips, a subtle invitation he hardly tried to give.

“Are you tired?”

You smiled at his question; that means something else. That means you allow him to show you how much he missed you when words fail him. And how could you refuse such a rare opportunity?

“It’s because of what I said last time?” His lips touched your skin, travelling lower from behind your flushed ears to your neck and below. Sasuke didn’t confirm it directly, but you know nothing is left unnoticed by him; being observant is in his nature.

“You were wrong.”

You turned around to face him, placing both of your hands on his chest, fingers playfully tugging the tight blouse. One of his hands came now on your waist, the other cupped your cheek.

“I was?”

These were the only words you managed to say before he claimed your lips. He guided you, slow at first, then as the kiss became more passionate, more intense, asking permission when you kissed him back with the same necessity for him to slip his tongue in your mouth. He urged you back until you hit the closer edge of the sofa in the evening room.

Just then, he lets you breathe, but his touches become firm, unyielding. You leant on the small surface, giving him an erotic sight that only made him want to take you right here and there—with hardened nubs behind your top, a strap falling on your shoulder, shorts rising up, and a flushed face only he could cause.

“Sasuke…”

With a swift motion, he turned you around and bent your body as he leant over your ass, feeling exactly for how much Sasuke missed you. One hand came to touch every inch he could, letting a shiver down your spine as his finger traveled the path from the back of your neck to your curves before he palmed your ass, squeezing it slowly.

When you moaned, Sasuke looked at you, his hand coming to grip your chin to make it still for his mouth to take yours. You arched your back, and that only makes Sasuke let himself grind against you, thanking you with a sweet groan against your lips that even he couldn't stop. His hand slipped under your top, taking your breast in his palm while he kissed you.

“I-I want you…” You helped him, struggling to take your shorts off, and he straightened himself, placing his hands over yours as he bent down to let them fall. You cursed under your breath as you tried to lift your legs and drag the shorts away. His mouth twitches, but it soon falls when he sees your aroused expression, hands placed on the sofa with your exposed ass to his dark eyes.

Your eyes widen when he parts your cheeks, hissing at the wetness around when his fingers are rubbing slowly around your needy clit.

“Nghh—Sasuke, please—“

Sasuke gave you a short glance, his breath flattering. Sasuke gathered your wetness from your clit, between your folds, before slipping one finger inside your pussy. He groaned at how wet you are already, another finger followed to stretch you more, curling them inside. His other hand quickly begins to unzip his pants, allowing you hardly a second to catch a glimpse of his flushed, hard dick, throbbing hot in the palm of his hand, with precum already falling from his tip. He stroked himself with it as his fingers pumped inside your pussy, tensing his biceps the more he exerted pressure, so more embarrassing squelching sounds to fill the room.

He towered over your back, whispering against your lips while you felt his tip teasing between your folds before he found your trembling entrance, leaving you panting.

“[Name]…”

“Yes—Y-yes! I want to feel you now, Sasuke—“

His mouth parted at the same time as yours when he slipped inside, his pretty dick filling you more and more, watching it stretch into a wide O shape to accommodate its girth. Sasuke closed his eyes, fighting to not focus on your tight walls around him before he started moving.

“Oh my—“ It didn’t take long until he started pounding deeper, harsher, quickening his pace when the primal side of him finally took over. One hand stays on your waist to hold you steady, while the other moves in front of you, arms across your chest, with his grunts overwhelming your ears.

“You feel so…good.”

You whine at his words, rare from a non-talker, biting your lip as his dick makes a mess of you, trying to meet his punishing thrusts.

“More. I need more, b-baby—”

He hissed when you squeezed around him. He grabbed both of your hands behind your back, then laid his over them while his thrust shook you until your legs quivered. You didn’t have a choice but to take him. Not that you didn’t want it, feeling yourself on the brink already. And it almost seemed like he knew it. But that's true, Sasuke knows your body enough to predict when it will collapse with ecstasy. Only if he gave you a little help—

“Come with me.”

His arm comes in front of you, fingers moving fast around your swollen clit. Sasuke didn’t leave your dewy eyes, listening to how you chanted his name over and over again; he kissed you at the same time when your moans turned to cries and your body started convulsing under him until your orgasm hit you, warming all of him. Hoarse sounds left his lips at every heavy-hitting thrust that followed, hips slapping against your ass mercilessly. His muscles flexed until he halted inside you, letting his cum fill your pussy. Your hand comes behind his head in an instant, feeling high off orgasm, and now, you are the one begging for his lips as he tries to reciprocate.

His tired body leans over you only for a moment. Then, Sasuke slowly slipped from your pussy, creampie dribbling out your pussy, some of the mixed cum glistening between your thighs. He helped you move on your weak legs until you turned around, embracing him tightly in your arms.

Sasuke’s hands come on both sides of your thighs until your legs are wrapped around his waist, followed by one of his arms lifting yours to let it rest over his shoulders. Your exhausted smile tormented his heart more than ever. He kissed your forehead as he started walking to the bathroom. A much-needed bath he would make sure to take care of, especially after you respond to him so well.

“I see someone really missed me.”

Not only like this. Never only like this.

“…Yes.” The rest followed in a hushed tone that you think you imagined it. “More than you know.”

A/N: The title came randomly at me and I didn’t knew it had some connections with Sasuke. I was wrong. xD In the context of the popular Persona video game-series, a "crooked" or corrupted Persona (often referred to as a Shadow) is a psychological manifestation of a person's suppressed emotions or dark desires.

🍜 Shoyu (xxx to Lovers) - Enemies, rivals, friends to lovers

𓎩 Pick your broth (Trope):

Up to TWO, max!

🍜 Miso (Fake Dating/Pretend Relationship/Couple) - Specify

🍜 Tonkotsu (Mutual Pining)

🍜 Spicy Beef (Sharing a bed)

🍜 Veggie (Accidental/Arranged or Marriage of Convenience) - Specify (Arranged marriage slots are FULL)

🍜 Chicken (Forbidden Love)

🍜 Fish (Drunken/Angry Confessions) - Specify

🍜 Bone Broth (Unrequited/One-sided Love/attraction)

🍜 Black Garlic (Heartbreak)

If a trope is not here, means I'm not writing for it for this special!

𓎩 Pick your toppings (OPTIONAL!):

🥢 Chili Oil (Angst)

🥢 Narutomaki Fish Cake (Fluff)

🥢 Extra Garlic (sexual tension) - Due to our understaffed kitchen, the max we can offer is foreplay, if requested. No full SMUT available in our menu for now. Thank you for understanding <3

🥢 Boiled Egg (Hurt/Comfort)

🥢 Scallions (Humour/Crack)

P.S: Not writing fantasy at this time! Only writing the genres above.

𓐐 Who will be picking up your ramen?

Naruto: Kakashi | Naruto | Sasuke | Shikamaru | Choji | Kiba | Shino | Neji | Rock Lee | Might Guy | Genma | Gaara | Jiraiya | Itachi | Tobirama | Obito | Iruka | Shikaku Nara

Resident Evil: Leon Kennedy | Carlos Oliveira | Chris Redfield | Ethan Winters

Demon Slayer: Giyu | Kyojuro | Tengen | Sanemi | Obanai | Gyomei 

Once a request has been posted, I will update the character's name with a link to said request!

Example of what your order should look like: Hi Nyx! I'd like to place an order for Miso Broth (make it pretend couple) topped with Narutomaki (Fluff) in this XXX specific setting/plot. Leon Kennedy will pick it up! Thank you <3 

𓐐 Chef’s suggestion: Feel free to add as much detail as you want to your plot idea—the more, the better!

𓐐 CAN I SPEAK TO THE MANAGER? Have a favorite character in any of these fandoms that I didn't specify here? DM or send an ask so we can sort it out. Just remember, since most of these tropes are romantic, minors (like Muichiro or the Kamaboko squad, for example) are strictly off-limits!

.✦ ݁˖ Nyx’s kitchen rules: I love a little psychological damage and exploring different genres/tropes/categories. However, my hard limits are: extreme Gore, Non-Con, mpreg, incest, bathroom kinks, bestiality, age-gap where one of the parts is a MINOR, EXPLICIT eating disorders, and actual cheating/infidelity from any parts. Also, I only write for fem or g!n reader at the moment.

Let me raise a toast to all of my followers, to all my moots. I'm already past 200 and couldn't be MORE grateful! THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. I almost gave up Tumblr at the end of 2025, but my best decision was coming back and posting that Kakashi fic!

Much love,

Nyx 🤍

It felt even more excruciating, and Megumi was already beginning to feel self-conscious. Persistence was not in his nature. But thinking it through, he couldn’t recall any recent argument, any failure in missions or at Jujutsu High, nor any boy you might be upset about. Still, he sensed a tension that stirred something in his subconscious, projecting an unease he couldn’t fully identify.

“Did I do something?”

When you shot him a glance so drastically altered, almost wounded, Megumi grew visibly unsettled. On one hand, guilt was consuming you from the inside. I’m going to lose him. Fuck, I’m going to lose him. But I can’t conceal this from him, at least I owe him that much.

“You didn’t do anything. But…it’s related—Damn, I can’t say it right now, but I promise I will.”

What? It was related to him? Why were you behaving as though it were the end of the world? Your hands trembled beside the bowls you were preparing (He already told you he isn’t eating, yet he still appreciates that you thought of him).

“What did you do?”

On one hand, you felt as though you were suffocating under the weight of guilt, knowing you were on the verge of losing someone important, and the fact that he was asking more than usual, showing you again how much trust he placed in you by caring enough to insist, made you feel despicable for stripping that from him.

You turned around, bracing yourself against the counter. As you spoke, Megumi rose slightly from his seat, growing increasingly panicked.

“Megumi…it just happened. I didn’t want this and I didn’t expect it!” Did you betrayed him somehow? What did you say? “I know you probably think it’s just a phase, like some things from my past, and that’s what I tried to convince myself of, but it truly wasn’t, and I ended up here, and I feel horrible because now I look at many things I do differently, as though I have an ulterior motive and I’m trying to gain something and…“

You spoke over one another, his voice urgent, bracing for something disastrous, while yours was fueled by the last remnants of courage you had left.

‘[Name].’

“…And the fact that what I feel for you now goes beyond being just friends.”

For a moment, Megumi thought he no longer comprehended his native language. What did you just say? He was so stunned that he remained rooted in place before you, while you abruptly sank into the chair at the table, burying your face in your hands. You just confessed you liked him?

“…I know you probably think it’s just a phase, like some things from my past…” That’s what you think about him? That he perceived you as a girl walking around in circles with different guys just for a bit of attention until you were satisfied? No. He knew from the very beginning that’s not who you are. Hell, that’s exactly how he met you in the first place, catching a glimpse of your soul.

You had a boyfriend. Completely unimpressive, the type that doesn’t stand out. To him, at least. He broke your heart so badly that it sickened even him enough to meddle in someone else’s business just to punch someone. He’s not like Nobara, but sometimes… Still, after you had gathered enough confidence, you still tried—sometimes too hard—to find love, but you didn’t. Despite the multiple dates that were painful to watch.

Right. You hadn’t had one in a couple of months. He was actually proud of you for gaining some confidence. Or was it because of him?And why do you look so goddamn upset? It makes him so fucking uncomfortable to see someone cry. Because of someone like him? Not worth it.

Yes, he never saw you in that light. You caught his attention from the beginning by the way you behaved, but his mind wouldn’t even allow him to think about a person differently when they already had someone. Even when you were alone afterward, you were always platonic with him. Very careful and patient—things that helped him so much he almost feels now with hou like he’s with Yuuji. Not as extroverted as him and Nobara, but you actually understand him in some aspects, especially the anxiety part.

And the other things? Superficial ones versus the unshakable personality he usually focuses on? He finds you pretty. Of course you are. Sometimes his head would throb when you let some insecurities slip, because he couldn’t understand the stupidity behind them, but he never offered compliments in any other way than his usual blunt tone. “Shut up. You look good.”

And yeah, he looked at your body too — more accidentally than intentionally — when you made him choose between different outfits, and his eyes lingered until he caught himself. You’re fucking disgusting, she’s your friend. After all, at his age he’s a hormonal bastard too at the end of the day. But that’s all there is. So why do you feel so guilty—

“Say something, please.”

Your head was lowered, your face completely hidden by your hair as you pushed it back with the back of your palm.

“I’m sorry. I don’t k—” He cut himself off. Fuck. It hurts, doesn’t it? But it should, right?! A rejection. Why shouldn’t it feel like one? Can you look at him? He can’t read you if you don’t say anything, if you don’t even look at him.

Probably that’s how others see him too. Unreadable. Not the best talker either..

Eventually, you looked up at him, and on your face it was clear—the pain of rejection you had expected, mixed with shame. But he couldn’t, he really couldn’t breathe here. Maybe selfish or not toward someone close to him, he had to leave.

“I think…I’ll…”

And you nodded in approval at Megumi’s unfinished words, instantly understanding what he wanted to do—something you had expected also. That was the last thing he saw before he left.

And not too long after, he realized that today had been heavy enough to start something impactful in Megumi’s soul that he wasn’t prepared for, nor did he have any inner resources or anything to cling to in order to face it.

That evening, Megumi moved his fingers — not even typing — over the conversation with you, but it was useless. He even scrolled up, searching for any crumb of evidence that could confirm what you had told him today. Everything seemed normal. Except for your usual banter and the way you teased him sometimes.

He felt completely relieved when he realized the next day that it was the post-exam vacation. He wouldn’t have been able to see you. Megumi would’ve preferred being on the other side of the world rather than facing something like this.

Still, all week he start reviewing in his mind past conversations.

“Sometimes I have this grotesque thought that you two should be together. Only you can figure out Megumi’s bullshit like that.”

You had laughed back at Nobara then while he rolled his eyes. You even pretending to gag after you replied. “Yeah, sure, I’d totally turn his world upside down.”

Meanwhile, the vacation week felt anything but like a vacation for you. Aside from staring at the ceiling and losing nights stressing out and falling asleep crying, you couldn’t find the strength to do anything else.

Maybe I don’t even like him. Maybe I should apologize and it was all in my head. And then, you will slip into a trance, remembering the thousands of moments — like that day, just before you confessed — when you’d just look at him and see him for who he is, simply admiring his presence. You even thought about the first time you meet him.

—-

Nobara was dragging you by the arm through the halls of Jujutsu High, next to an Itadori who was smiling widely after having met you as a new student here.

“Did you meet Fushiguro? I swear he’s a hell of a guy, but I promise he’s a good guy. Well…bearable. Come, I’ll introduce you.”

“Nobara! Don’t scare her!” He didn’t necessarily contradict her, even if he didn’t completely agree either, laughing instead.

You almost collided, Megumi’s hands stabilizing you by the shoulders as you looked up at him, surprised. He was looking down at you without any expression, though he didn’t avert his gaze as quickly as you would’ve expected.

“Right on time, Fushiguro.”

His stoic expression turned slightly irritated, but you weren’t unfamiliar with people’s subtle expressions—you noticed how his eyes softened, probably from familiarity at seeing his friends. The introduction was simple, without many words, and you didn’t retain much from it, already recognizing back then what kind of personality Megumi Fushiguro has.

It felt inevitable that you’d end up being friends, even though at the same time you were punching the sheets, now writhing in bed when your brain decided to remind you of all the other moments — small or not — that brought you to this point of not wanting to be only his friend anymore.

—-

“Your form isn’t right. Did someone tell you that?”

His tone was neutral, not judgmental, as both of you were in the same training ground behind closed doors. Nobara and Yuji had taken a break and left you alone with him, one of those few times. Honestly, you had always admired even his motivation and how much he worked on himself, learning much later his main reason for doing so. His sister.

Or when your heart was shattered after your past relationship, reaching your first vulnerable moment with them — your new friends — Megumi was a little shocked. You often seemed reserved, even confident. But when he heard about the other specimen who had gained your trust only to destroy it so degradingly, Megumi felt that inner fear he has toward the people he cares about — those who could leave at any moment — transform into anger. That’s why he found himself speaking.

“You shouldn’t waste your time on people like that. It will only cloud your mind since you’ve made the decision to be in the sorcerer world.”

Nobara hit him on the shoulder, scolding him. “Fushiguro! Be kind.”

He considered Nobara’s punch deserved — who was he to speak? But then you looked at him, smiling, almost surprised that you heard him talk about it, giving his opinion, and Megumi felt, for one of the few times, that maybe he should speak more.

“It’s okay, Nobara. You’re right, Megumi. Sorry for making you—”

His unusual reassurance made both of his friends freeze for a second.

“Don’t apologize for things like this.”

Then both Itadori, who made a sympathetic “Awww,” and Nobara, who dramatically dragged you to her side into a hug, were all over you. “We’re friends! We’re glad you trust us enough to say this!”

Megumi just nodded while you threw him a “Help me” look, realizing that maybe he understood you felt a little suffocated — though the fact that he confirmed you were friends touched your soul so deeply that you smiled even more, almost making him do the same.

After that came the small moments, interactions deliberately built to draw you closer and closer.

“I’m coming with you on that mission. I already talked to Gojo.”

You laughed, looking at his firm expression, even though you knew it was somehow protective because he trusted your abilities, not that he was questioning them.

“And I don’t get a say in this?”

“Nope.”

The same at school, waiting for you after classes if you stayed for extra tutoring. (He didn’t need it, and the other two would’ve chosen literally anything else — a bad movie or a good snack for example —over staying after school for what? Tutoring? Gross.)

Or sometimes sitting next to him at the desk, noticing you struggling to understand certain concepts by the pout on your face, which he found childish enough, he would pull your notebook toward him without asking.

“If you’d been paying attention, you’d remember they suggested we take notes so we can understand this.”

And he’d start filling things in or eventually hand you his notes. Megumi wasn’t aware of it, but he felt a certain amusement seeing your cheeks flush when you were embarrassed. The kind of reaction that, if someone else had caused it, would’ve annoyed him to no end.

And somehow, you had started doing it too.
Looking back to one of the first times you came to his place — which was an honor by the way, considering he barely brought anyone home — while waiting for the other two to arrive for game night, you were eyeing the things that probably cost you a kidney, at least for a quarter of them.

“You have so many cool clothes bought by Gojo and yet you wear almost the same thing all the time. So basic.”

He scoffed, ignoring you. But unlike with Nobara, he actually considered your suggestions and surprised you once by dressing the way you had suggested.

Over text, he was frustrated that he couldn’t be the one teasing you—somehow you had more nerve.

And of course, he will leave you on read everytime after things like that, though in front of his phone screen, Megumi would have a mix of reactions. His eyes rolling, yet a hint of redness was definitely paint on his cheeks.

Now? You were unreachable. Not by text, no. Megumi can barely speak about important things face to face. Doing it over text? Not his kind of thing. Besides, what could he possibly do? Say?

The only thing he could do was see your texts all week in your group chat, watching how you dismissed every attempt his friends made to hang out with you. Well, he did that too, like he usually does — but he wasn’t that suspicious, since you don’t normally act like that.

The best he could do was, at the very least, go train himself. With his friend.

Yuji was on the training field. Even though he was breathing heavily from Nanami’s rough training, hands on his knees and back bent forward, but the grin on his face was here.

“Can’t lie, Nanami. You really are ruthless!”

Nanami, as usual wearing his completely unimpressed expression (though everyone knows Yuuji is a soft spot for him) spoke clearly and concisely.

“Speak less, fight more.”

Not long after, Yuji turned his gaze toward the sound of Megumi’s footsteps on the grass, slightly torn up from his friend’s relentless effort to train himself to be the best. ‘Soul pounches’ surely require more than just brute strength.

“Fushiguro-san, you came!”

He did. Did he want to? Not really. It’s not that he doesn’t need to train, like he should and usually does. But now? He would’ve preferred to stay in his room, contemplating just how much of a douchebag he was for not reaching out to you.

Megumi sighed, hands in his pockets as he stepped closer to the two of them.

“I did, didn’t I?”

Yuuji frowned slightly. Something was off. But he knew better than to confront his friend directly — an intense spar between comrades was a far better approach.

“You sure did. Now come show me that power of yours before I beat your ass.”

Though Megumi wasn’t a man of many words, if you paid attention, you could tell — his tense shoulders, his distant gaze that seemed to look straight through you, his reactions slower than usual. Still, he continued dodging Yuji’s punches, the precision of his movements elegant, even if he wasn’t fully present.

Nanami, standing at the sidelines, was the one watching them both. Today was another day when his primary focus on his student was placed secondary now.

He had higher expectations for the boy under Gojo’s care.

And so the days passed like this until the week came to an end. Days — because the nights were Megumi’s real problem. For a quiet person, his thoughts were anything but.

Back at home after a dreadful day, Megumi was in his room. He feels tired as fuck.

He sighed, picking up the book from beside his desk that he hadn’t managed to open until now for what a hell of a week was this. He flipped straight to the end to read the author’s critiques, a small spoiler to see whether it was worth wasting his time like this or not. His eyes quickly landed on the message at the bottom, attached to a small colorful note.

“I hope I nailed it with your non-fiction books, like the nerd you are. But maybeee another interest would be for you to read mine too!”

He closed it instantly. Ah. It was a birthday gift from you, from last year. The other one (your favorite) was probably resting somewhere with a layer of dust on it, despite him telling you he’d try. Maybe. Probably. In the future.

He stayed still on the bed for a few minutes, then his impulses struck, lifting himself up and opening it.

A couple of hours passed and he still hadn’t put the book down.

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.”

He closed the book after reading that line.

Were you trying to say something with this book?

Megumi unconsciously tried to read between the lines, between everything in this book. Is that how you feel about him? He felt suffocated by his overthinking. Somehow, he resonated with Darcy’s personality from the book—

But what did he know about love? And since when does he read books like this?

The clock announced 3 a.m.

For a normally composed individual like him that should wake up refreshed soon, he didn’t have a care in the world right now as he placed his head between his hands on the kitchen table.

Suddenly, Gojo had entered the house, passing through the hallway from the living room before turning back just as quickly.

“Oh? Megumi?” Fucking great. He hadn’t even heard him come back. Gojo had a curious look when he noticed Megumi’s glare. Like father, like son — Gojo had a different way of approaching the situation. “What’s our overachieving student doing up at this hour?”

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

Gojo wasn’t convinced, furrowing his brows slightly.

“Did…something happened?”

“No.”

He stepped closer to Megumi, and Megumi leaned his back more firmly against the chair.

“Did you game all night with Itadori again?” At the lack of an answer, Gojo turned slightly as if to leave, resting a hand under his chin. “Hmm. I think someone told me at school you were a bit lacking in training, but I can’t remember who said that… But rest assured, my dear Megumi! Just go to sleep and—”

“How do you know you like someone?”

Megumi slapped himself internally. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask that — maybe the book, maybe the option of talking to Nobara and Yuuji about this was absolutely forbidden for him right now, maybe the fact that the internet said everything except something that matched his situation. “You’ll know when it’s the one.” What the hell does that even mean — you’ll know!? Is that the definition of love? He doesn’t know what it means, but he definitely hasn’t felt things like that.

Gojo pulled the door handle unnaturally hard, so animated and amused that the rest of his body snapped back upright almost in slow motion.

“…What?” Gojo said more quietly, blinking as he reconnected with reality, then louder. “What?”

“Nothing—”

He cut him off instantly, Gojo’s dramatics embarrassing Megumi even more.

“You? You like someone?”

Megumi panicked, standing up from the table and immediately defending himself.

“It was for a fucking friend. Never mind—”

Gojo’s grin was unbearable, his usual teasing voice resurfacing.

“Awww, Megumi actually cares about his friends enough to ask me for advice? The king of dating?”

Ew. He didn’t want to imagine his parental figure in God knows what—

“How long have you known her? Or…did you just meet her? Or—”

“I said I don’t—”

Although Gojo had been asking too many questions, overly excited, when he saw he was losing Megumi, he suddenly turned serious.

“Megumi, tell me. It’s important.”

Megumi froze, glancing at him from the side, trying to understand how Gojo had managed to become so serious that he even surprised him. On the other hand, Gojo — despite hiding his true feelings —wasn’t stupid enough not to notice that Megumi hadn’t really eaten or slept these past days. Affected even in training? That didn’t just happen for a composed little freak like him.

“I already know her, okay?”

“She’s a good friend?”

Megumi rolled his eyes, realizing Gojo’s curiosity was greater than his turmoil. But Gojo actually wanted to adjust his answer depending on what Megumi said.

“I knew I shouldn’t have talked to you ab—”

“No, no!” He raised his hands apologetically. “I meant that if you like someone, it’s important to be friends first. That means…she knows who you really are!”

Annoyed, Megumi raised his hands and let them drop heavily at his sides.

“And how does that help you figure it out?”

“Do you usually put her well-being above your own? Do you want to be around her when you can?”

“That’s the same with friends!”

“Nuh-uh.” Gojo gestured, leaning one hand on the table, gesticulating as if recalling something from a book rather than his own experience, detached from his emotions. Not that Megumi believed Gojo would ever show something like that. “It’s sliiighty different here. Especially when you have certain weird reactions toward a friend and feel more intimate.”

Megumi was utterly confused. Waves of memories crashed into one another, and Gojo’s questions —ones he hadn’t expected to come out of his mouth —embarrassed him even more.

“Oh, right! Also, are you attracted to her?”

That was enough for Megumi to turn completely red, his eyes widening. He’s done. Before he could open the door to his room, Gojo appeared instantly beside him, grabbing his arm.

“Wait. Just one more thing and I’m gone.”

“Did you just fucking teleport?”

Gojo chuckled, waving dismissively. “Fast hands.” Then his expression shifted into something unreadable. “We live in a sorcerer world.” No shit, Sherlock. “What I’m trying to say is… we might not have all the time in the world like we think. Even if you’re not sure what you feel for this person, the regret can be much worse if you don’t at least try.”

In his voice, Megumi felt something very strange —like sadness, melancholy, spoken too precisely. Gojo wanted to say more, but stopped — knowing he was stepping too far out of his comfort zone, lingering in that uneasy feeling inside of him for too long. Even so, for Megumi, this was something he had to do. To not end up like he did.

—-

Thrown back into the present, you sat upright in bed, your gaze fixed on nothingness. Monday morning, after an utterly undeserved “restful” vacation.

You sighed, still trying to ground yourself back in reality. You struggled as much as you could to conceal your tear-swollen face, even going so far as to dress a bit nicer than usual (still within the confines of the dress code, but a skirt wouldn’t hurt: dark purple, the color exactly likehoodie pulled up to his neck of Meg…Shut up.)

You were so tense on the way there that you chose not to announce your departure in the shared group chat you’d barely replied to all week, invoking various excuses (ironically similar to Megumi’s) for not leaving the house. Completely unprepared for a scenario in which Itadori or Nobara had found out and maybe didn’t like you anymore.

You would understand. They’re Megumi’s friends first. Just friends. Nothing else like the way you see him.

And yet, as you entered the school courtyard, you spotted Nobara at the entrance, gripping the straps of her backpack with near-nervous agitation, probably irritated she hadn’t had enough time for her self-care while talking to Yuuji.

She frowned when she saw you from afar, and you felt your heart come to a standstill.

“Well, would you look at that. She lives!” You couldn’t tell whether it was her usual sarcastic tone or genuine being mean for having disappointed her friend, until she snapped your forehead with her fingers. “You pissed me off. How is it possible that anything is more important than coming shopping with me or just hanging out, huh??” On the other hand, Yuuji chimed in, now dragged into the conversation. “In return, I had to come with him and watch his horrible movies.”

“Hey!! Watch that sharp mouth!” Even though he was joking, the truth was there. Anything but his movies, Nobara. Yuuji smiled afterward and turned to you. “What’s up?”

You swallowed hard, your body instinctively trying to soothe the anxiety that Megumi could appear at any moment. “Not so much. What are you guys—”

Nobara shoved both of you forward from behind.

“Come on! We’re going to be late on the first day. As much as I’d rather go get coffee right now than attend Gojo’s class, Fushiguro is probably already waiting, pissed and the first one in the classroom.”

At the sound of his name, your heart churned even more violently, your body suddenly feeling heavier. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

What was even more shocking was that Megumi wasn’t in class yet. Surely he had something academically important causing the delay. There was no real reason for you to even think about the actual truth — that Megumi hadn’t slept properly for a week since your conversation, especially after last night speaking with Gojo.

But you flinched when you felt a presence behind you, not long after you entered the room.

“Morning run, Fushiguro?”

Megumi answered Itadori only with a nod, lingering for an extra second as he stared at your back, at the way your form tensed once more, before moving to stand beside his friend.

You avoided his gaze as much as possible, until you realized how painfully obvious it would be to your friends — especially Nobara, who had already raised an eyebrow.

“Hi.”

Luckily, it was a simple word, because any thought attempting to form vanished entirely when you looked at Megumi. And Megumi, in turn, had only one thought as his heart began to race wildly.

“This is a little different. You’re having particularly abnormal reactions toward just a friend…”

His gaze, utterly detached from the present moment, only intensified your fear. You couldn’t read anything, so of course you assumed the worst. When Itadori nudged his stone-faced friend, you wanted to die inside, knowing Megumi had probably forced himself to respond at least politely.

“Hi.”

Standing there, all four of you in a circle, the tension was so unbearable you felt like you’d burst into tears at any second — if Gojo hadn’t appeared right then, nudging the door open with his foot.

“Huh.” He wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead as if he’d sprinted a marathon to reach you. He hadn’t. “Apologies for being late, my dear students. Please, take your seats.”

As he strode confidently toward the desk, Gojo shot Megumi a quick, sideways wink before glancing at the rest of you. Just once, he glanced again from Megumi to all of you three (though for some reason you caught his attention). While Gojo arranged the papers with that irritating slapping sound against the desk, papers he’d read so slowly the class would fly by — Nobara started interrogating you as you sat down beside her.

“What the fuck was that? Did you somehow fight with Fu—“

You grabbed her hand and yanked it down, panicking instantly.

“Nobara, sit down, please.” She didn’t move until you insisted. “Please.”

On the other side, Itadori rested his chin on his hand, giving Megumi a curious look. Megumi didn’t look back at him, not even once. Megumi was still looking at you, almost constantly, ever since you’d walked in.

Also, none of this events went unnoticed by the hypnotic blue eyes, the only ones like that in the room. Hmm. So that’s the good friend you told me about, Fushiguro-kun.

Do you look different today, or is he imagining it? He thinks he might be losing it. Maybe he’s inducing these thoughts. And the fact that you barely looked at him made him feel something deeply uncomfortable — Fuck, you looked again right after saying something agitated to Nobara. Even if it was just for a second, you pulled your gaze away instantly when you realized he was already looking at you. He felt embarrassed at being caught, and both of you were thinking the exact opposite things about what the other believed in that moment.

He looked at Yuuji afterward, who was already smiling at his favorite teacher (He can’t understand it and doesn’t want to how Gojo could be that. Nanami is a far better option.)

“Fushiguro? Something happened?”

Did they know? Did everyone know and he is the only he didn’t? For a second, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he turned his head away.

“Nothing.”

The hours crawled by excruciatingly slowly, and Megumi thinks it was one of the very few times he’d been incapable of taking notes. Not like you, who had done exactly that all day. From time to time, he cast glances in your direction.

Before either of them could come up with a suggestion, you felt like the most fake friend imaginable when it came time for you to leave.

“I have a doctor’s appointment. I need to go.”

Yuji turned toward Megumi then.

“Fushiguro, wanna grab something to eat?”

He was met with nothing but a disapproving shake of the head.

They exchanged a strange look, until he addressed you both, cutting you off mid-sentence.

“Right. I’ll go now—“

“Did something happened?”

You felt pathetic when Megumi intervened after a long stretch of silence, sparing you as your face start burning crimson and your hands start fidgeting helplessly at your sides. Even though the reason he did so was precisely to keep you from panicking even more than you already were.

“No.”

Nobara spoke skeptically. “Sure…” She grabbed Yuji, turning the other way. “Come on, Itadori. You’re paying today.”

You turned immediately, waving until your hand nearly froze midair, your back already turned.

“Bye, [Name].” You didn’t know how to feel, because you couldn’t decipher a single thing from his tone. All you could do was keep walking, murmuring almost only to yourself. “Goodbye, Megs.”

The outings between the two of you ceased to exist more than before. Conversations too. You avoided him like the plague, not subtle at all now that his attention seemed almost exclusively fixed on you. It wasn’t that you ignored his presence out of indifference, but rather because you were likely wounded by the fact that he hadn’t even been able to say anything to you. That’s what he was thinking about at least.

Why not at least go out with the other two? Who had started bombarding him with messages lately, as if he’d become a celebrity overnight.

Yet with each passing day, Megumi felt unbearably close to you, and impossibly distant all at once.

There was no longer a single day when he didn’t recall some small moment from your shared past, dissecting it from every angle and wondering how things might have unfolded had it been different.

Nor a day when he didn’t wonder, for God’s sake, what it was you even liked about him. He couldn’t fathom it.

There wasn’t a day when he didn’t miss your presence as something more than a greeting and a farewell. At least just talking about the most trivial things. At least that.

Those feelings can exist between friends; it’s normal. He doesn’t know how it is for you (though he suspects, otherwise you wouldn’t have cried back then, right?), but he’s come to feel things that are unbearably, crushingly painful.

And on top of that, there are the other things he’s far from proud of.

Since that day, there hasn’t been a single time he’s seen you without his heart pounding as though he’d fought hundreds of cursed spirits. All at once. In a single hour.

There are moments when he simply imagines your features, seeing them brighter, more striking, until he finds himself tracing his own lips with his fingers, thinking about what yours would be like, the kind of thoughts he’s never experienced before.

But what torments him the most is his inability to draw you back toward him with his mere presence the way he once could. Now, more than anything, he wants you to speak to him, and yet you don’t. What is he supposed to do? He doesn’t even understand what he feels, let alone articulate it. Have you already moved on? Will he never know you again in any form, whether friendship or something else?

Even after today after school, he no longer knows what to believe.

Nobara announced, referring pointedly to two very specific individuals.

“Today I don’t care. You’re both coming to the Arcade with us. None of you has gone out in ages!”

Neither of you knew about the frequent meetings between Yuji and Nobara, where state secrets were discussed and plans were meticulously laid out. And yet both of them were upset by the fact that you no longer talked to them either. Though both of you had different reasons.

In that moment, you didn’t know what to do or what to say, and Megumi waited for your answer first, somehow influenced by it. Not that he didn’t want to go with the two of them (even if he wasn’t exactly fond of playing games in public), but he feared he might let something slip to them that would destabilize the already fragile situation.

You began to speak, only to be interrupted immediately by Nobara.

“I don’t know if I can—“

“Ah-ah! No such thing. I don’t care. End of discussion.” She turned toward the other adversary. “Fushiguro?”

You blinked twice when Megumi answered without hesitation.

“I’ll come.”

Seeing everyone move ahead while you remained frozen in place, you only started walking when Megumi glanced back. For the first time, his expression carried a faint trace of something. “You coming?” But you weren’t sure. After all, Megumi hadn’t said a single thing to you since then. Is this his way of trying to remain friends, even though nothing will ever be the same?

Though you began walking, that thought spun relentlessly in your head, saddening you once more over what you’d done, until you became completely dissociated from the animated conversations around you. So much so that you didn’t notice Megumi behind you, deliberately matching your pace so you wouldn’t fall behind, until he nudged you slightly from the side, too close to a streetlight pole.

The physical contact burned Megumi, while it chilled you. Feeling a heat that kept intensifying, Megumi merely said, “Careful.” and hurried ahead, while you managed only a faint “T-thanks.”

While you minimized the interaction to the extreme, telling yourself: Of course he doesn’t want me to get hurt or die. It’s human, empathetic. It doesn’t mean anything else — Megumi was dying inside every time he looked at your face too long, or into your eyes, where the spark that had once given him a sense of hope for life seemed to have vanished.

He has to do something. But after today, Megumi considers himself incapable, deeply irritated by his own powerlessness, because it’s clear that everything he tried today was not good enough.

“How do we pair?” Yuji asked, gesturing toward the shooting game, designed for a maximum of two teams. And Megumi was thoroughly disappointed when you immediately chose Nobara.

After several rounds in which he was scolded by his friend as though he were deliberately losing, he told Yuuji in a lowered voice.

“We should switch too.”

But when you were paired with him, you were playing so poorly due to your emotions that, even if he tried, he couldn’t match your level.

Or every time he wanted to say something to you, you’d leave the moment you noticed him looking at you for too long, searching for the right words.

Every fucking time. Meanwhile, all you could feel was how humiliating it was to believe you’d ever be able to be the way you were in the beginning. You excused yourself to the bathroom far too often, just to steady your breathing.

The day dragged to an agonizing end.

While Nobara and Yuji were sprawled across the bench at the bus stop, bellies up from all the junk food they’d eaten, a small smile tugged at your lips.

“I’m heading the opposite way, so I’ll walk. I think it’s basically the same.”

“Want me to come with you?”

You snapped your head around, looking at Megumi, who had averted his gaze, pulling his chin deeper into his hoodie to hide his cheeks as well. Was he talking to you? When he looked back at you, waiting for an answer, you confirmed you weren’t imagining things.

“There’s no need, it’s not that late—“ you stammered, cursing under your breath at his intense stare that made you afraid of saying anything wrong. “But if you really want to…”

“Let’s go.”

He glanced at the two of them waving from the bench, unconcerned with standing up, then walked past you, taking the lead, fully expecting you to follow. You waved quickly as well, hurrying after him, unaware that the two of them smirked at each other, bumping fists like a plan had been flawlessly executed.

You still didn’t realize what was happening. Nearly a month had passed since that cursed day, and through all the emotional states you’d endured, you never once thought Megumi would still want anything to do with you in the sense of staying together. At most, within some shared context involving your friends.

Megumi, meanwhile, bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. And now what? It wasn’t the first time he’d walked you home; he knew the route by heart. But no other subject came to mind besides asking the obvious questions.

“Which bus stop did you take to get home? Or do you want to walk?”

His voice interrupted your thoughts, prompting you to meet his gaze before answering.

“Ah, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Whatever you prefer.”

“I asked because I want to know what you want, not what I want.”

You immediately labeled yourself delusional for interpreting his words as having double meaning. And it was clear you were nowhere near over what you felt for him.

“Sorry. Yeah, well… I want to walk.”

Why are you apologizing? Megumi wondered. And instinctively, right after, he nearly made you flinch when his hand suddenly grabbed yours, because the light had just turned green and the crosswalk was overwhelmed with people.

He pulled you through the crowd, and you let yourself be guided entirely by an automatic trust, staring in stunned disbelief. Megumi wasn’t the type to initiate physical contact, especially not twice in one day. Playful, bickering hits didn’t count. You don’t think you’d ever hugged him. Not even when you’d fallen asleep after a movie at his place, and even then, though your bodies were close, they only brushed by accident.

He released you immediately once you reached the other side, flushing hard when he realized your hands were still intertwined. But the gesture only made you minimize things even more, seeing yourself as a small child incapable of crossing the street alone.

Yet your self-deprecating thoughts couldn’t diminish how deeply you cared about how he was doing. And not in relation to you.

“What have you been up to? Have you studied more?”

Megumi glanced at you briefly at the sudden question.

“Not much. No.” He asked immediately when that unbearable tension resurfaced. “You?”

“Yeah… I started taking notes too.”

“I noticed.”

Fuck. What was that? A sudden, accidental confession that he’d been watching you like some creep? And what was with all this small talk? He hated small talk. All that was missing was him asking about the weather.

“I said I shouldn’t … depend on you here or cause you trouble, not that you wouldn’t be used to it in the past. But I don’t to bother you anymore and — Ah, we’re here!” You spoke so fast that all Megumi could do, caught completely off guard by the suddenly open subject, was watch you climb the stairs to your place. “Thanks for walking me!! See you tomorrow! Bye!”

On the other side of the door, you slowly slid down to the floor, closing your eyes, then resting your elbows on your knees, your head bowed in shame.

“Fucking embarrassing.”

—-

Not so late after the failed interaction, he also found out you’re assigned to another mission in two days.

“Alone?”

Gojo shrugged, a teasing glint could be seen in his eyes, but he keep his tone neutral.

“Is she wants it, I guess?” He circled Megumi, still containing his smile. “I don’t mind speaking with the higher up to assign you with her. Of course…only if you ask her before…”

Megumi rolled his eyes, faking irritation. A bit. Gojo constantly irritated him just like he does now. But after that night, Megumi is sure Gojo already knows some stuft he shouldn’t. But the helpless feeling came more from you and the way you are avoiding him. Are you not? Or maybe he overthink things? After all, you can manage to finish a mission all on your own. You are a strong sorcerer.

That night, Megumi thought he’d fall asleep instantly from how exhausted he was for all of this. But even then, he couldn’t rest.

*

He shook Itadori by both shoulders, a horrifying expression on his face.

“What do you mean, Itadori!? What do you fucking mean?”

Itadori gulped, eyes just as wide in shock as his friend’s.

“She failed the mission. She wanted to go alone since you two weren’t going anymore, and this damn time she didn’t even want me or Nobara and it happened so fast because it was a special grade curse and she didn’t make it, Megumi—She didn’t make it—“

*

When he jolted upright, breathing heavily, the feeling he’d had in his chest during the dream lingered even as he woke up.

No. Things can’t stay like this.

He has to go on this mission with you.

Even though the road outside Jujutsu High, where you lived, wasn’t far from Gojo’s apartment, the walk felt twice as long. He didn’t allow himself to think too much before knocking on the door.

What the hell is he doing here? He should leave. Maybe you didn’t even hear the knock. Megumi turned his gaze to the sky twice as he doubted his choice; long enough for it to be too late and for the door to open.

“Megumi?”

On the other side of the door, before you fully opened it, it was you. In the small living room (still enough for one person) you sat on the couch, biting at the skin around your nails while staring at the document detailing tomorrow’s mission plan. The sound of the door echoed louder than usual because you were too immersed on the piece of paper in front of you.

Megumi? No, can’t be. Nobara is probably sick of your ass, especially after that day at school when you told her to stop asking and she came here.

But it was him. He was standing right there, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. His expression , almost more surprised than yours, only confused you further. Still, you moved instantly after opening the door when his gaze briefly flickered over the pajamas you shouldn’t still be wearing at this hour, before stopping on your eyes, far too red to be excused by mere lack of sleep.

“W-what happened?” You speak again, your cheeks flushing.

Megumi cleared his throat before speaking, as if relearning how. He averted his gaze, then looked at you almost shy.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Your pulse spiked before slowing again after hearing the subject. “About tomorrow’s mission.”

You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present.

“Ah—sure. Let me… let me go change.”

Megumi nodded, but the door slammed shut immediately after, leaving him standing outside.

He sat down on the steps in front of the house until you returned.

“Right. Sorry. Did you wait long?” You felt bad seeing him sitting there. “Um, do you want to come in?”

You looked down at him as he lifted his gaze, the color of his eyes accentuated by the sunlight. He stood up immediately, his ears flushing just enough to go unnoticed in the trance you were in, staring at him.

“…No. It’s fine.” Stupid. Fuck. Of course he doesn’t want to come inside. What did you expect? Maybe he even thought you had other intentions— “Should we go to the park nearby?”

You looked at him again, fidgeting slightly.

“Yes, sure. Sure. Let’s go.”

You closed the door twice, deliberately slowing the moment just enough to take a deeper breath, before walking beside him toward the nearest bench.

The distance between you as you both sit down was obvious — both of you maintaining it for different reasons. You, because you didn’t want to upset him further. Him, because he was too overwhelmed by what he needed to say.

“You shouldn’t go alone tomorrow.”

“Why? Did Gojo say something I can’t handle, or what—”

He cut you off, courage filling his lungs after hearing your slipping insecurity.

“No.” You turned toward him, waiting for him to continue. It hurt that he wouldn’t look at you, even as your heart began to race again, a little harder. Megumi moved his tongue from one corner of his mouth to the other, moistening his lips, even though his throat felt sore. “I wouldn’t want you to stop going on missions or start avoiding coming with me because of…” Your eyes widen as he suddently open the subject you didn’t expect it for him to bring after all this time.

“But I’m not avoiding—”

“You are.”

He threw you a glance, freezing you in place. It wasn’t accusatory — you couldn’t say that. There was something beneath his gaze you couldn’t decipher. Caught in a lie, you had no choice but to retreat inward. At least turning your head away was easier than leaving him here without any more words like he did before.

Your voice came out soft, for a reason you didn’t understand, even though you wanted to. Something urgent in his tone made you soften, letting him once again influence your choices, just as you had influenced his so many times without even realizing it.

From the way he dresses. To how much he opens up to those around him, you. To how often he feels compelled to talk about things he barely understands himself. But after last night, Megumi knows he has no other choice but to try.

—-

Senday City. Sendai city is the capital city of the Miyagi Prefecture in Japan at the same time is Yuuji Itadori’s hometown.

You looked at the paper in your hand, the map to be exact, until you looked up at Sugisawa High, the school where Yuuji had studied and which, due to its height, overlooked the entire city, even when viewed from a higher location.

“Where the fuck is this school…?”

You froze on the spot, your skin prickled as Megumi's voice was much closer than he intended.

“Here.”

He leaned over your shoulder as his finger pointed on the map, then on the place in front of you. That big, you can’t miss it even if you wanted to.

“Right…”

Megumi assumed you blushed because you were so stupidly off course, not that he cared.

But you were also affected by his presence, by his light, clean perfume that intoxicated your mind as you…stumbled first step you took to unconsciously create some distance.

He caught your arm firmly, looking down almost concerned by how distracted you are. When your gaze looked on him, his hands were right back at his sides. Now you are the one too close for him to think straight.

You are beautiful by the day passed and he can’t stand it. Doesn’t know how.

Megumi finds the urge as he starts walking again, looking anywhere but at you, to say something for the tension to ease at least a little.

“Do…you want to eat before reaching the hotel?”

Your question was quickly approved by him, nodding as he tried to look for any food shops, preferably not so far from the hotel. Megumi hopes Gojo didn’t play a stupid joke on him and bought only one room.

That will be such a classic, though.

Arriving at the food shop, Megumi spoke in front of you, giving you a side glance as he already decided what to eat. Since he is usually particular about his food, he picked a safe choice for his stomach. Chicken with rice.

“What do you want to read?”

You thought out loud, not exactly choosing something.

“Soba noodles with some miso? Hmm, maybe some fish too. But the sweets look delicious too, especially that daifuku. Oh! They have so many colors of them!”

Megumi finds himself almost smiling. You are usually indecisive with your food, something that annoyed him before like he was with his friends too. But now, he was pleased to get a glimpse of you being exactly how he remembered, making him less anxious.

“Tempura fish and miso ramen as a side dish. For the dessert, all of the colors you have for the mochi.”

Your eyes widen when he spoke with the shop seller, dragging him by the blouse to catch his attention. You whisper not to don’t speak loudly with so many people around.

“Megumi, wait! I don’t have all this money for this! I was just thinking—“

He gazed down at your hands, then up at you.

“I already paid for it.”

Your mouth stayed open as he turned around. Did he pay for all my food? Also, since then he knows what fish I like?!

You glance at him once in a while, now cleaning your mouth with the napkin after finishing eating. Well, not everything.

“You didn’t need to pay for me. I feel bad and I don’t know how I’m gonna eat all this mochi—“

Megumi picked one with a toothpick, shoving it into his mouth. Yes, it was Gojo’s fault for having a sweet tooth now. Will he admit it? Never. At least, you stopped complaining about irrelevant things. Still, his gaze was locked on the window outside, hand on his neck as he felt himself flustered by the way you looked at him.

You’re not aware that you are starting, but you can only think about one thing: He looked like a chipmunk. A cute chipmunk stuffing his mouth full of nuts and seeds.

—-

You sighed, exhausted, as you stepped into the rented apartment. Gojo does not joke around when it comes to his son. The three-room apartment was spacious enough for you to finally breathe easier in Megumi’s presence.

“Can I go first to the bathroom?”

Megumi nodded in approval, almost absent-minded as he carried the rest of the luggage — yours included, even though you had tried to convince him you could manage — toward the center of the room.

Fucking Gojo.

The bedroom was clearly designed in a charming, traditional style. Spacious and beautifully styled. Beautiful for others — for him, it made him cringe. Curtains far too vividly dyed in a deep crimson red, the bed overly arranged with fluffy pillows shaped like… hearts, matching the white walls strung with soft, warm-yellow fairy lights. The pillows rested on a king-size bed he most certainly was not going to sleep in.

His cheeks flushed as he crossed the room in almost a single stride toward the other bed, the one he would be staying in.

When he turned back around, his face was illuminated by his phone as he searched for takeout options. When you stepped out of the bathroom, the steam had flushed your cheeks, but even worse, they were reddened by the robe you were wearing. Of course, you had clothes underneath but it’s still felt embarrassing.

Megumi looked at you when you entered the room, only to do a double take quickly.

You gestured with your hands, a little agitated.

“They had these robes that seemed… comfortable. Ah, and… a hot tub. With multiple bath bomb options and—”

This sight of you make him feel…familiar, warmer. You cleared your throat, stopping mid-sentence as you tucked your hands under the hem of the robe and sat down on the bed. You looked around for a second longer at the room and Megumi noticed your eyes widen.

God, he feels so tense.

“I’ll order some food for dinner.”

You swallowed anxiously before standing up and walking toward him. You leaned in slightly to look at his phone, brushing your wet hair aside. A few drops of water fell onto Megumi’s hand. Not that he noticed. All he could feel was how tightly wound his muscles were, even though his expression betrayed nothing.

Get it fucking together. It’s not like this is the first time you’re sharing a room or sleeping in the same place.

Megumi scrolled through the options unconsciously for you. He glanced at you, noticing your eyes flicker like a child staring at a lollipop, hoping they’ll get it.

You looked so fucking cute.

“Pizza? One for both of us?”

He resisted the urge to comment like he does with Yuuji and Nobara, probably complaining that it’s too much junk for his stomach to handle. But this time, he simply nodded in agreement.

The evening settled slowly until Megumi turned off the light in your room, you already tucked under the blanket, nearly asleep.

“Goodnight, Megs.”

He didn’t know if you were conscious, but hearing you call him the way you used to made his heart leap more than anything else so far, leaving him to speak mostly for himself.

“Good night.”

That night was far too heavy for Megumi. But you weren’t any different. When the door closed with a soft click, your eyes opened at the same time, a sigh escaping your lips.

I’m sure he’s just as uncomfortable as I am here.

It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on you over the room that had been unintentionally chosen. Well…that’s what you thought. Surely, the image of Nobara’s grin, Gojo’s smirk, or the redness blooming across Yuuji’s cheeks when they had intentionally chosen together never once crossed your mind.

You twisted the second folder in your hand, the one with the school’s architectural layout, your gaze lingering on the red-marked points made by Megumi’s pencil with an elegant handwriting (you felt a small pang of jealousy at that).

“Did Yuuji really study here before?”

Megumi scanned the surroundings, making sure everything was in order. Still, he felt an unusual fear tonight. Maybe because of that, he was more aware of every move you made than of his own.

“Yes. This is where I first met him.”

You looked at him curiously, allowing yourself to ask.

“Yeah? What was it like?”

Megumi answered a bit absently, trying to maintain eye contact.

“It was more me watching him than the other way around. I followed him at first.”

You laughed, and Megumi realized how much he had missed hearing it or seeing your smile.

“Like a creep? I can imagine you hiding in a bush watching Yuuji flex his muscles. But I think your spiky hair would definitely give you away.”

You teased him.

From his lack of response, only a scoff escaping his mouth, you immediately realized you had forgotten you shouldn’t be the same with him as before. After all, you hadn’t talked at all about how he felt now, whether he felt obligated to come on missions with you. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the fact that Megumi had been acting a little unusual lately, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

When you looked at him, his eyes were already locked onto you. A slight twitch of his mouth and a glint in his eyes made your smile slowly return.

You entered through the back entrance, Megumi opening it with his credit card, useful for the spring latches. Old-school, but it gets the job done.

“We should split. Check the first floor. I’ll take the second. Meet me in the hallway after.”

You frowned when Megumi hesitated at first. Something passed through his past like a ghost haunting these halls, a ghost you couldn’t see.

“Okay.”

You still didn’t feel the cursed energy, unusually absent for a place like a school or a hospital. Why now? You dragged your fingers along the cold walls, brushing them with your fingertips as you searched for any trace of presence, any shadow. The black metal spear with its elongated blade, treated for fine cutting, red threads braided at the base of the tip, moved lazily in your hand, tracing circles helped by the wind created by your continuous motion.

Maybe it was the idle movement of your hand, the whistling of a tune you’d just invented, or the thought that you should talk to Megumi after the mission — but you weren’t instantly alert when a cursed spirit infused with malice burst from the ceiling, its monstrous body stretching until it reached halfway down your own.

when you saw it, instinct took over and you yelled — not out of fear, but because of how ugly it was. You hated it. How the fuck do people get used to this? After the spirit slammed you into the wall, the muffled impact became the second wave of panic Megumi felt from downstairs, deep in the pit of his heart.

He ran in agitation, drenched more in emotion than from exertion — after all, his stamina was solid. When he arrived, his vital functions finally settled. You were already in a fighting stance, your back bent at an unnatural angle, your weapon aimed at where you had likely exorcised the cursed spirit that was now gone, your breathing slightly heavy as you let it escape through your mouth.

Meanwhile, Megumi breathed harder in relief.

Your tone was teasing, clearly so.

“Don’t tell me Megumi Fushiguro himself underestimated me, even with weak curse spirits now.”

He walked toward you with steady steps. Only now did the air in his lungs return to normal. Still, his reaction didn’t match what he felt inside — the realization that no, he hadn’t lost you, that you were still here. Two fingers touched your back, then your chin as he spoke.

“Too bent. You’ll ruin your spine and become a grandpa. Lift your chin so you don’t compress your peripheral nerves.”

You gasped at his audacity, raising your finger in the air to scold him more, but your words died the moment you inhaled. You side-eyed the direction of the growling sounds, and he mirrored you from the opposite side. Simultaneously, you turned your backs to each other, touching a little.

The smile was audible in your voice, making his own form even though you couldn’t see it.

“Come on, Megs. Show them what you’ve got.”

You’d forgotten how fast missions were with him, almost like you’d missed the lack of action you hadn’t had lately. Being a sorcerer has its ups and downs, but the adrenaline rush of a fight is fucking addictive. And in the end, what were you doing now anyway? It wasn’t that late yet. The outside air felt warm, the wind heating your cheeks, the city lights urging you to stay a little longer.

Your nose scrunched as you smelled the inside of your fighting clothes, the dark-purple ones.

“God, I really need to wash myself again. So stinky.”

Megumi didn’t respond, but he agreed. He couldn’t stand feeling dirty at all. Although, he couldn’t ignore how you looked around at the lively streets, eyes glittering with every person who simply existed. A man selling hot food, smiling as he bent low to reach a child with raised hands. A florist chatting with a man on a bicycle (probably a mailman) on a cigarette break. A group of teenagers chasing each other, weaving through thousands of people so one wouldn’t catch the other.

“Do you want to eat dinner?”

“Yes, yes.”

“…Outside.”

You were a bit surprised by his suggestion, thinking of something positive for the first time. He clearly saw me staring at the people around, right? Still sharp, Fushiguro. Still sharp.

“I’d be more than happy!”

“Good.”

You walked a little ahead of him, as if trying to gain ground and arrive first.

“But I’m going to the bathroom first. You guys just change your shirt and fix your hair and that’s it. Minimal effort.”

Valid. Okay, he also uses perfume. And maybe he gets his eyebrows done occasionally, ever since Gojo sent him the first time. His nails were always well kept. And also—also!—his hair wasn’t as easy to maintain as you’d think. Every morning he got irritated when a single strand escaped what was supposed to be a perfect comb-through.

All you remember from that night is the smoothness of the conversation, finally flowing the way it was meant to. Only now, both of your gazes lingered longer than before. Long enough for Megumi to feel a hope growing inside him — that maybe, maybe it wasn’t too late.

But yeah. Maybe not that night.

On the way home, while you started recapping what you needed to write in the post-mission report, talking constantly — a sign that you were finally okay with him, and yes, you genuinely believed you could be friends again — Megumi’s gaze was fixed on your hand.

His hand flexed at his side, a strong urge stirring within him, a long-standing desire to touch you. To take your hand in his. He finally found a hint of courage to try—

“What do you think? Huh? You’ve ignored me this whole time, Megumi?”

He felt like a pathetic thief caught in daylight after his first steal.

“Sorry. Repeat the last part again.”

You rolled your eyes, but you complied.

—-

Things slowly returned to normal. Still, you couldn’t leave them unspoken, whether Megumi Fushiguro wanted that or not.

During the lunch break, while your friends were ordering food for you as well, you found yourself speaking.

“Megumi. Can… we talk?”

He watched as you exhaled, calming yourself as you approached a bench near the apartment, sitting as you speak timidly.

“I… wanted to say I hope we can be friends again. It felt like that on this mission. I realized I don’t want to lose you, and maybe I should get a grip on myself and…”

“I had a dream.” Silence filled the space between you until he spoke again, leaving you stunned. “Before coming to your place. It wasn’t a nice one.” He caught his breath as he admitted it. “Maybe that was the bigger reason I joined this mission like I used to.”He had looked away the entire time, until now as his expression serious. “In that dream, we all lost you. I lost you. And…I’m not sure I’m ready to live with that regret. I won’t do it.”

“I’m sorry for… the stress. So…this means you’re okay with us being friends like before?”

“Did you want to tell me something about that book? Your book?” Your heart jumped between your ribs. Did he read it? Fuck. He did. You did want to tell him somehow, struggling to stop the urge to trace with your pencil the lines you loved, the ones that resonated with your soul. But Megumi seemed like he was having a monologue right now, like he had rehearsed this a thousand times already. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not saying anything back then.”

“I understa—”

“No, you don’t. Hell, even I didn’t understand at first, and I don’t blame you for that. I just… didn’t know. I didn’t know what it was like to feel. And what to do with it.”

You barely breathed out, unsure what to say, perplexed by the fact that you — he —were talking about this so openly.

“Feel about… what?”

He was struggling so fucking hard it was impossible not to see. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips together in distress before deciding to speak his sincere thoughts.

“I’m not sure I see you only as a friend anymore either, [Name].” He added quickly after, “And no, it’s not what you might think. I… care about you. I want to be near you. In every way you want me to.”

The ringing in your ears and the veins pumping blood aggressively were out of sync. Different rhythms reacting to the same thing. The same message.

Before reacting, you looked around, more for him than for yourself, to check if anyone was nearby — seconds long enough for Megumi to feel like he’d die if you did not say anything soon — then you looked at him, his eyes widening at your glassy gaze and the blush on your cheeks.

His hands lifted, unsure what to do with himself as you stepped forward and hugged him. You didn’t know whose heart was beating harder, but you knew it wasn’t only yours so that made you hold him tighter.

Megumi swallowed hard, not caring for once in his life that you were in public while his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head as his eyes closed. He sighed, relaxing into your calming scent, finally feeling you so close.

Your voice was muffled, but clearly teasing.

“Didn’t know you had it in you to be this romantic too, Megumi.”

He tensed, his voice laced with anything but irritation.

“Shut up.”

You looked up at him as he looked down at you, smiling so hard at him that your cheeks burned.

“I can’t. I might tease you from now on.”

You turned at the familiar sound behind you. Yuuji dropped a few coins, some ryō, into Nobara’s hand behind his back. She won.

“About damn time.”

Even with his back to you, Megumi’s life flashed before his eyes as he closed them. You chuckled, mouthing a “sorry” to him.

Then, suddenly, you remembered what fear felt like.

Nobara approached you with firm, powerful steps, pointing her finger as you backed up until it hit your chest.

“You. You will explain every detail from the beginning until now. Every detail, [Name].”

“Nobara, I’m really sorry. I’m such a shitty friend—”

“Yes, you are. How did you think we’d be mad at you for this? Grossed out? Sure. Letting you go? Never.”

She grabbed your hand, pulling you along. You glanced back over your shoulder at Yuuji poking Megumi’s flushed cheeks, only for Megumi to slap his hand away in irritation. Yuuji used his other hand then, but Megumi caught his wrist too. You laughed at the scene, making Megumi look at you, his eyes softening as you waved.

You had a lot to talk about with Nobara. There was no escaping any of her future plans that involved you—and you didn’t really mind. You really felt sorry for being an avoidant asshole.

—-

Not much time passed after that, and things didn’t seem very different from before. You went out often with friends — separately or together. You went on dates together. There wasn’t a single time he didn’t buy you something if you stared at it a little longer. There wasn’t a single time he didn’t come pick you up from school, even if he took a longer route just so you wouldn’t walk together. There wasn’t a single day without messages from morning until night — short sometimes, but never left on seen anymore.

—-

Hugs were constant, and he never hesitated to accept them. In fact, Megumi felt kind of obsessed with touching you whenever he found you alone — patting your hair, gazing at your hands, hugging you. What was missing was… well.

You didn’t initiate the first kiss. You didn’t want to. And you knew it wouldn’t be long before Megumi would explode. But your revenge didn’t come from a malicious place. Okay, maybe a little. Let him suffer a bit after you waited for him too.

And his father's figure did the same thing to him, reminding him of his weakness. Occasionally, when Gojo saw him leaving for your place again, he would always follow him out. His body leaning against the door, the keys twirling between his fingers as he grinned.

“Have fun, Megumi-kun!!!! Don't forget protection!”

"Shut the fuck up!"

But Gojo stopped dodging everything Megumi threw at him, not even needing his Infinity for that.

Protection? Why would he say something stupid like that, much too early for him to even consider it when he hasn't even kissed you yet?

Now, in the present, Megumi was having another day of losing his patience, growing more irritated with his own helplessness.

It was fucking embarrassing that he actually searched it up. He really tried. He couldn’t even type it properly because of how cringe it felt, even in incognito mode — couldn’t even trust that.

How can you initiate a first kiss

He was ashamed of himself, yet he couldn’t resist the temptation, catching himself letting his gaze fall on your lips from time to time. What was strange was that every time you caught him, the glint in your eyes looked as if you knew. You knew the torment he was going through, didn’t you? So why wouldn’t you do it? Didn’t you want to? Or why — A metallic taste filled his mouth as his teeth bit into his inner cheek while you walked him out of your room.

When you turned back to him, Megumi didn’t let you out of his sight. But before you could say anything, the moment pulsed in the air, timeless, until his hand lifted timidly to your cheek, his thumb brushing against it.

You looked down at his lips, and he allowed himself to do the same. You whispered, your words dragging softly.

“Finally?”

He drew his face closer to yours, tilting his head just enough that his half-lidded eyes never strayed from yours. He whispered back, his words pulling you into a trance you could no longer escape and you didn’t want to.

“Can I? Do you want this?”

“Please.”

There was no need to beg him—if anything, he was relieved you hadn’t done so to stop him. He wouldn’t have endured it, not without closing the space between you, tasting your lips slowly, experimentally, as if afraid. He claimed them a few times, and when you responded, Megumi kissed you with more insistence, a soft hum spilling from his throat.

His hand came up to your cheek, steadying you, while his warm fingers brushed behind your ear, sending shivers across your skin as he pulled you closer. You felt like you might cry at the thought that it was his lips—no one else’s. That it was him kissing you with such hunger, such intensity, as if he wanted you so badly that breathing had slipped to second place.

He pulled away with effort, his control barely holding under the weight of everything he wanted to say through another kiss—to taste you just a little more—but no. This was enough for the first time. He kissed you once more, brief and tender, after looking at you long enough for your trembling hands to find him—one resting over his, the other on his cheek. It was impossible not to hold each other’s gaze, impossible to let the moment dissolve under the force of such unbridled emotion, saying once more everything that mattered without a single word.

⸻

Gojo’s class. Or rather, Gojo’s break.

While you tried not to stare at anyone in particular so you wouldn’t seem like a total freak, Megumi noticed you biting the inside of your lip with nerves while the overly theatrical white-haired man in front of you only made your anxiety worse.

“Sooooo, she is your new colleague! For now, at least.”

Your brows furrowed in concern, almost glaring when Gojo waved dismissively, joking as usual.

As the pink-haired boy gave you a bright smile, and the only girl seemed neutral, the tension eased a little. Nobara pulled the lollipop from her lips, curious. You didn’t even get the chance to answer her.

“What’s your ability?”

Gojo grinned, immediately glancing at Megumi, who only raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s see a demonstration, shall we?” Yuji’s eyes gleamed with the same playful spark as his teacher’s. “Megumi, show her your loyal dogs first.”

When Megumi’s eyes met yours, you averted your gaze in a second. Somehow, that got under his skin.

He couldn’t read you yet, and he didn’t like it. Like a reflection of his own self.

Without commenting, he clasped his hands, summoning a shadow puppet of a dog’s head with them.

Only then did he notice that you were…pretty. Not that he hadn’t realized you were good-looking before, but the moment his dogs appeared, he saw your face soften, your lips curling into a genuine smile as you murmured for yourself. “They’re so… cute.”

Yuji crouched beside them immediately, petting their fur.

“Heh, what’s up, boys? Hm?”

The expression on your face made it clear you wanted to pet them too. Megumi felt an odd impulse to tell you to go ahead, but he said nothing. And you didn’t allow yourself, either.

Gojo’s gaze then fixed on you, making your chest pang with the dread of failing something basic. You didn’t like showing off.

You sighed, finally clasping your hands together. A small spark flickered in the room, light blooming between your palms before you let out a soft gasp, raising your joined hands. The energy shaped itself at your fingertips before you knelt, smiling faintly at the dogs.

You murmured, placing your hands on their heads.

“Dai kô myô (大光明). Great shining light.”

What was shocking was how their tails wagged—like they were happy to… see you again? A triangular seal stretched between each body, the ends capped with glowing orbs, filled in with white zigzag lines. A circle formed around them. Your breath caught as the cursed energy stabilized, binding you and Megumi’s dogs together.

“What’s happening!?” Yuji asked first. Nobara leaned forward, dragging him down by the shoulder so she could see better.

“Here, my friends, is a healing technique. An ancestral one, rooted in Japan, taught for centuries.” Gojo’s playful narration made your cheeks flush. There was no need to—

“And what is it doing to my dogs?”

Gojo leaned closer to Megumi, tilting his head and poking his cheek in a ridiculous manner. Your eyes widened. This was… his teacher?

“Awww, Megumi’s worried for his little dogs? Is that it? He’s scared?”

Megumi closed his eyes in irritation. Yuji, noticing your confusion, leaned closer, whispering into your ear.

“They’re kinda… related. But not by blood.”

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t smile. It didn’t feel right — not when you barely knew Megumi, not when he was so closed off. Still, maybe you could ease his mind.

Your voice drew his eyes toward you, and your heart stumbled.

“I sealed their souls. They can’t be killed, immune to any jutsu.”

Megumi’s gaze locked on yours, weighing every word. Nobara was the first to cut in.

“What’s the catch?”

You hadn’t expected the question so soon, but Gojo spared you, reframing it.

“The greater the attack, the more her body and spirit suffer. Even the risk of losing her own soul.” The room froze in silence. Until Gojo broke it once again. “No worries, that’s just one technique. Her Reiki Power Jutsu goes far beyond that. Still…very handy in a crisis.”

He smirked. You forced a small smile back, uneasy under his words. Then, Gojo suddenly clapped his hands, glancing at the clock before spinning back dramatically.

“Oh, so fast! Sorry, guys, tight schedule!” He winked at you before stepping out the door, his head popping back in a moment later. “Ah, right. Ask your new colleagues for the notes so far, [Name].”

You only managed a quick nod before he was gone. Yuji slung his backpack on, glancing at Nobara.

“Kugisaki, food?”

“Maybe. Let’s see if I feel like it on the way.” Nobara turned to you, eyes scanning you head to toe before her tone softened slightly compared to how she spoke to Yuji. “You got plans?”

You tore your gaze from the door to her, shaking your head.

“I don’t think so. No.”

“Good.”

Yuji glanced at his friend, already expecting the answer.

“Fushiguro, you coming?”

He shook his head. No explanation needed, the closeness between them said enough.

⸻

Back home, you felt strangely satisfied. Yuji and Nobara had bombarded you with questions, dragging you through shops, and for once—it felt like there was a possibility to bond.

Still, when you pulled out your phone to send a message after being added to their group chat, it wasn’t either of them you wanted to text.

On the other end, Megumi had just closed a nonfiction book, briefly glancing at the notification: a new member added. He saved your contact without thinking twice, no intentions behind it. But confusion struck when three dots appeared… disappeared… then appeared again.

You were struggling to even think of what to say first.

Fuck it, you thought.

That was… You couldn’t even decipher what to even think about him, probably the message you sent him came off as mean? You only remembered Yuji and Nobara telling you they don’t even write in their courses most of the time and that made you a little taken aback. Maybe he is more responsible?

Meanwhile Megumi didn’t bother, locking the phone and opening his book before sleeping until morning.

⸻

The next day, the road to school alone was contemplative, much earlier than classes would begin, your mind caught in wondering if you could ever manage to befriend people here.

Until it was interrupted by the scene in front of you, making you stop unconsciously and stare at the school’s inner yard.

A Megumi in a hoodie raised in the style of the purple garment from yesterday that he wore, black with a line of blue through the middle and short black pants with a fitted layer underneath them up to above the knee was climbing the stairs, a towel in hand wiping off the sweat he was anyway going to wash off considering he couldn’t stand remaining like that. His facial features, even with his eyes closed, carried a hint of irritation.

You realized a little later he had locked his eyes on you, his eyebrows raised barely visible. Even though your cheeks were already flushed long before, you blamed it on being caught staring at him too much. Your eyes widened, forcing a smile and waving a little agitated, awkward even, before hurrying with more rapid steps toward the school.

Megumi lifted his hand slowly in a greeting, his expression unchanged, even if you didn’t see it. His eyes followed you unintentionally, more in observation than anything else.

Do you even know the school has certain dress code limits?

You had short pants, skirt-like with a slit, beneath them sheer black tights. Over it a long blouse tied in a way similar to his, with two buttons, wide sleeves layered over another black fitted blouse beneath that looked like the pants (he assumed it was a bodysuit or something) with your abdomen only slightly visible.

Megumi was in fact irritated that your clothing resembled his in a certain way. At least the colors were the same. And it looked very good on you.

Irrelevant, he thought.

Before reaching the classroom, Nobara and Yuji startled you from behind, their playful gesture of grabbing your shoulders making you jolt.

“Heeey!” Yuji’s smile stretched to his ears while Nobara’s small grin was pointed at you as well. “Badass look.”

It was flustering, the blush from before still maintained.

“Hey, guys.”

“What are you doing this early at school?” Nobara’s question was completely ignored by Yuji.

“Much more important than that, are you going out with us again?”

You smiled back at Yuji, trying to reply to both of them.

“Yes, of course. Ahm, need to train my abilities.”

Yuji’s enthusiasm was hard to dismiss while Nobara scolded him.

“Oh, can we see?”

“Itadori, maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable, did you even think of that?”

Yuji raised his hands, mimicking apology.

“Just a suggestion! A suggestion.”

The shame of being seen in public diminished with the way they acted, at least with them, if not with the other colleague.

“Gojo said I should train with Megumi. Something about my abilities could help him more in future missions?”

Nobara looked at Yuji and him back at her, their faces carrying the same look as if they felt sorry for…you?

“And…he agreed?” Yuji asked.

You didn’t know how to speak about their friend, choosing a safe ground.

“I…didn’t speak too much with him.”

Nobara put a hand over your arm, reassuring.

“He’s a pain in the ass to talk to, I know.”

“I didn’t say—“

Yuji saved him. “But he is a good guy! Trust us—“

Megumi had already entered the school, stopping to glance at how the two were all over you, catching only the final words, assuming maybe it was about him. But what had you said about him?

He gave you a side glance, mostly out of curiosity, but your shy expression made him double think again.

Lucky for you, Yuji asked him before you.

“Fushiguro! Let’s help [Name] training.”

Megumi huffed lightly, stepping closer, asking in a neutral tone.

“Doesn’t she have a mouth to speak, since you’re speaking in her place?”

Nobara rolled her eyes and Yuji just mimicked his words in a pinched voice before they started walking. Your heart throbbed, assuming at first he was annoyed at you for telling his friends before him. But Megumi already knew he was responsible for your…introduction here.

⸻

On the training grounds, the stretching routine was a little embarassing to do together, yet Nobara’s constant casual questions with Yuji interjecting here and here make it much comfortable.

Yet, your face drained on colours when Megumi turned to you.

“Besides petting my dogs, what else can you do?”

Nobara gasped at the same time as Yuji at his arrogance, while you blinked, trying to understand whether he was angry at you or not.

He lifted his hand slightly with his palm toward you to don’t answer, looking over his shoulder as he shifted the training weapon in a smooth motion until it rested against his chest.

“Leave. We should start training.”

Yuji whined.

“Really, bro? We want to see it too! Where should—“

“Itadori, next to us…just, another door.”

Nobara shoved her hands into her pockets and made a “tsk” sound, grabbing Yuji by the hood of his sweatshirt.

“Weird way to say you’re shy, Fushiguro. But we accept you as you are.”

Megumi rolled his eyes before it landed on you after they shut the door. Your heart stumbled back. You still didn’t answer.

“Yes. W-we, Reiki users, have a spiritual potential scale to take.”

Megumi spun his weapon in a sharp, almost bragging motion, tilting his head toward your as well.

“Move as you talk. I need to see your combat capabilities.” You stammered a little, but still shifted your weapon into a battle stance as he asked. “Spiritual potential?”

You dodged his next strike, countering his thrust by channeling the resisting force into your leg before stepping back.

“Dai Ko Myo is the Reiki master symbol, tied to level three of the system’s power, where you begin focusing on the spiritual aspects of Reiki. It’s the final stage before immersing your abilities into the physical realm.”

Megumi let you finish before striking again, noticing you became far more serious when speaking about something meaningful to you. He dropped his guard for a second too long, and you almost smiled faintly as you struck, his eyes widening.

“I can also use something called Cho Ku Rei.” You draw it into your palms, then brush it along the walls to cleanse negative energy. “It works for cursed energy too, if it’s low-grade.”

Megumi stepped back twice, only to lunge forward with his blade, creating a loud clash against yours. Your eyes locked.

“And Sei He Ki, if someone’s technique is blocked by interference, to restore flow and add protection.”

He drew back his sword, pivoting before lunging again, faster this time, trying to catch you off guard.

“All of them can be used together?”

That’s when your difference in defense became clear. You stumbled back to your knees, struggling for breath before managing words.

“Yes. If there’s harmony. It’s called Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen. It can be used across distance, if that person consents. And… so on.” Don’t want to make him bored with too much information.

Megumi lowered his blade before your kneeling form.

“And what does that mean?”

You were certain he remembered what Gojo once told Nobara, yet you downplayed it.

“For me not to be affected emotionally or mentally.”

He sheathed his weapon behind his back and extended his hand to you. You looked at him, then at his hand, before taking it, letting him help you to your feet.

“Aha.”

He glanced down at you struggling to catch your breath, his unreadable gaze fixed, while you realized that was quite a long conversation.

“Your defense is low, very weak.” Ouch. You tilted your head away, embarrassed. Megumi caught your expression and almost regretted the words that came out. “But your abilities are very strong. I’ll help you with everything necessary.”

The blush rising on your face when you thanked him startled Megumi for a moment, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly turned his head aside. “Tomorrow again.”

As he gathered his training gear, you found yourself staring at him, confused. Maybe that’s why you dragged the conversation on.

“Wait—” Megumi froze, giving you a side glance. “Um, don’t you want to go out with them after school?”

You tilted your head toward Nobara, who was climbing onto Yuji’s back—most likely, since only his eyes could still be seen through the small window in the training room’s door. Megumi’s furrowed brows softened as he exhaled an annoyed sigh.

“Probably not.”

Megumi noticed a faint trace of disappointment in your eyes, though he couldn’t quite understand why. Why should you care if he came or not? He barely managed to be social enough with those two idiots, opening up just a little more to them, but to add another person like that into his life?

And for some unknown reason, speaking with you felt even more difficult for him deep inside his soul.

You watched his back as he left the room, probably heading to class as you were about to as well, while Yuji fell flat on the floor when the door swung open, Nobara standing over him, grinning.

You chuckled, though you raised your hands defensively when they rushed toward you, bombarding you with so many questions your head began to ache—you weren’t used to this kind of attention.

Back at home, everyone was treated the same. No praise, no insult, regardless of whether you advanced through the Reiki levels or not.

⸻

Yuji’s mouth was stuffed with katsudon, his voice muffled. You were currently on lunch break with both of them.

“So… how is it?”

After sipping from your drink, you answered, trying to sound detached.

“Good…” When Nobara arched her brows, knowing you a little more after these months together and recognizing your hesitation, you leaned back in the chair, sighing. “It’s perfect, I swear. I don’t know what Megumi thinks, but our abilities match pretty well.” Nobara’s smirk mirrored Yuji’s when they noticed your blush.

“Is that so?” Nobara pressed.

You waved your hands dismissively.

“Don’t think about stupid things! It’s just that… his divine dogs trusted me from the very beginning, since they can recognize pure energy not tainted with bad intentions. Also, I’ve enhanced most of his abilities.”

Yuji asked right away.

“But he constantly protects you, doesn’t he?”

Well, more than that, you thought. At first, you concluded it was just part of his selfless personality—not necessarily for you, not because it was needed to help him, but sometimes it feels a bit much. As if he’s far more afraid when it comes to you compared to how he reacts with others.

You can’t lie: the past months with Megumi deepened some things inside your soul that sometimes suffocated you.

You’ve never felt this way for anyone before.

Which is why you don’t even believe there’s anything particularly special about you from him—after all, Megumi still doesn’t go out with you alone anywhere, at most when the others are present, and even then, rarely.

You only nodded at Yuji’s question as both of them replied in unison. “As he should.”

You blinked twice more, just as both turned their heads—Megumi had entered the coffee shop, the chime of a new customer marking his arrival.

His eyes landed on you like a magnet before he lifted his gaze and walked toward the cashier. Yuji waved his hand to get Megumi’s attention, speaking way too loudly for the morning crowd. “Bro, we’re here! Hello, Earth to Fushiguro!”

Megumi’s eye twitched, forcing a very friendly tone between his clenched teeth since too many people were around for him to smack Yuji’s head. “Do you really think I didn’t see you, I - ta - do - ri-kun?”

Yuji only grinned back before turning to chat with Nobara again. You shot her a glare, murmuring a “What?” when she glanced knowingly at you, as she usually did. Sometimes you really don’t like girls—how the hell did she already detect something?

You tilted your head toward your drink, stirring the straw when you felt someone sit down next to you. You had expected it anyway, considering it was the only free seat left.

“Gojo told me to talk to you about the next mission.” All of you turned to Megumi as he caught your attention. “Apparently, there’s an area between Shizuka and Yamanashi that’s constantly affected by cursed energy. The higher-ups believe something’s behind it, rather than just too many cursed spirits.”

Yuji let out a small whistle. “Isn’t that kind of far from us?”

You asked curiously. “Yeah, but I assume we’ll stay overnight there, right?” You smiled mischievously at the same time Nobara did, your thoughts syncing telepathically with hers, already imagining all the place you two should visit.

Megumi rubbed at his neck, uncomfortable with the subject.

“Sorry to ruin your plans, but we should split.”

Nobara’s teasing voice made Megumi want to shut her up instantly.

“Oh, and don’t tell me you’ll take [Name] with you because you need her soooo badly? Staying in the same place since is so dangerous for your well-being.”

You covered your eyes with your hand, turning your head away. Yuji whistled mindlessly, glancing around the café while the other two seemed to be in a silent competition of who would blink first.

⸻

Locking your phone, you let out a deeper breath while walking through the city streets, your eyes catching Mount Fuji in the distance, stumbling back at the breathtaking view.

Megumi caught your arm, and you blinked several times in confusion before raising your head toward him, who was watching you with a questioning look at your distracted mind.

“Something wrong?”

He let go of you, and you turned your gaze away in embarrassment, murmuring.

“No, no. Sorry. Just a little distracted.”

Megumi thought you needed to stay focused, your mind steady and at ease. Tomorrow, you were supposed to investigate the location you had gathered intel on the previous day. Yet he found himself uncertain about how to approach you.

“We should eat before going to the hotel.”

You only nodded, and somehow that made him even more anxious. You didn’t know, but Megumi had been quite observant of you these past months.

He could tell when you were stressed—even in small things, like your habit of touching your ear and playing with your lobe or earrings, as if to check whether they were still there.

How you restrained yourself from reacting too enthusiastically when something warmed your heart, especially his dogs—that sight stuck in his mind more than once, how lovely you were to them and they to you.

How you refused to admit how exhausted you were after using your abilities, or how you grew shy at every touch or protection he offered. He couldn’t lie—he had never felt so strangely comfortable letting someone exist inside his personal space.

Still, it was hard for him to understand the curiosity he had about you. About everything tied to you. Sometimes he gave himself a random moment just to watch you, which always caught you by surprise. Which he found… cute.

After taking a bite of his meal, he asked,

“All of your family has this power?”

You froze mid-bite, licking the remains off your lips, and Megumi unconsciously watched.

“Yes, all kids know from a young age which direction they should take, depending on their power.”

Megumi furrowed his brows.

“Isn’t that too much pressure for a young child?”

You shook your head in disapproval.

“Not really. Our sensei let us live our childhood enough. We shouldn’t complain, since others have it much worse than us.” You didn’t realize what your next words could mean. “More than that, I would never complain in front of you specifically.”

It was only when Megumi suddenly went silent and you lifted your gaze that panic surged in you. You felt like a stalker, since you had wanted to know about Megumi’s past from the very beginning.

“I’m so sorry. I invalidated your privacy with my stupid action—”

“It’s fine.”

He cut you off, suddenly feeling too exposed. Cursing Gojo or his friends for probably talking about it with you without his consent.

Silence fell over both of you until the end of the meal.

As you walked back together, he noticed you fidgeting with your fingers, though he was too avoidant to say anything. You thought you had messed up badly. But Megumi wasn’t mad—he was anxious about your opinion of him after hearing about his dysfunctional past.

Since when did he care what anyone thought of him?

As you lay on the bed later, you stuttered, breaking the heavy silence.

“C-can you bring your dogs? I need to make a protection seal for tomorrow morning since w-we’ll leave pretty early.”

He didn’t respond, only did what you asked. When you knelt to pat them gently, you spoke while placing the ability on their heads.

“I feel like I upset you. It was a mistake for me to… ask about you that way. If you wanted to tell me, you would have. I… I just didn’t know how to ask, or maybe it wasn’t even my place to allow myself into something so personal. Please, forgive me.”

Megumi’s heartbeat pounded violently, freezing in the middle of the room. His question made your hands tremble as you finished the seal. You stared through his dogs’ eyes, though you didn’t dare look directly at him.

“Did it change your opinion about me? About what you found out?”

“W-what?” You rose from your knees. “No… in fact it made me want to know you more. I believe you are one of the… strongest people I know.”

When Megumi looked at you over his shoulder, his expression scared you. You weren’t sure if you had spoken without thinking again, insulting him somehow or stepping too close into his personal business.

He almost whispered, though his tone came out rough.

“Nonsense.”

You asked fearfully, “Megumi? I didn’t mean to upset you again or insult you, I swear, it’s my honest opinion—”

Megumi clenched his fists, feeling suffocated.

“You didn’t upset me, don’t say that again! Do you really see me that badly? And how could you see anything strong in my life? I’ve done absolutely nothing good enough for anyone. You…know nothing.”

After his words, Megumi wanted to bury himself under the ground, as deep as possible. When he saw your saddened expression, guilt crushed him—he cursed himself for not letting you go with Nobara instead.

Yet your shock was for something else entirely. How could he describe himself that way?

“How can you say something like that about yourself?” Your whisper made Megumi snap his head toward you, your eyes piercing him with too much intensity. “You say you haven’t done enough for others, but what about for yourself? Do you even give yourself a shred of credit for everything you’ve been through? Who are you to be responsible for everyone? And for you, who is there? Do you let anyone in?”

No, no. He needed to leave this room or he would suffocate. A panic attack was the last thing he could allow right now in front of you.

When the door slammed shut, you collapsed onto the bed, feeling lightheaded, while his dogs lingered around you, nuzzling your body as if thanking you for something you don’t know.

Meanwhile, outside, Megumi felt like throwing up. One hand clutched his pounding chest, the other braced on his knee as he bent forward, gasping for breath. What the hell was that?

“Who is there for you? Do you let anyone in?”

Reviewing his past and the loneliness he had carried constantly—until his father figure had practically forced him into his care—Megumi realized, consciously or not, he had let some people closer than he thought he ever would.

He had let someone in. More than he believed he deserved or was capable of giving back.

So how could he admit that what you told him was exactly what he needed to hear? That maybe, in his selfishness, he wanted something more? Like for example — you, in his life.

⸻

In the morning, Megumi was waiting downstairs. He could not bear the idea of leaving at the same time as you. He had hardly slept the entire night in the bed beside yours, though he had the vague impression that he had not been the only one awake, judging by how often you shifted, in contrast to him who remained stiff, almost petrified.

His eyes flickered toward the shop window by the corner, fastening themselves for a heartbeat upon the earring set you had gazed at yesterday morning, before he finally raised his head and caught sight of you stepping outside.

Even if his expression seemed carved from stone, his heart betrayed him the instant it faltered, when his gaze collided with yours, anxious as if still haunted by the shadows of the night before.

You murmured a faint “Thank you.” when he handed you a coffee cup, just before beginning to walk with you in the direction of the designated location.

Aside from thinking of each other and of the next step that needed to be taken, not a single second passed in which either of you considered how much danger could be lying in wait.

He refused to allow you to use your abilities, he did not even call upon his divine dogs while he cut down the multiple cursed spirits that infested the abandoned hospital.

He barely gave you the chance to intervene at all, although you were certain he knew perfectly well that you were capable of destroying them easily, since they were only low-grade, with your Cho Ku Reizl.

“Really, Megumi? Let me help—“

“No need. Preserve your energy.”

You gave him an aggravated look as he forced himself to ignore it before your mind start to wander.

What made the place truly suspicious was the sheer abundance of cursed energy for such a neglected site. Even residual negative emotions should not have been able to nurture so many spirits for such an indefinite length of time. How much, exactly, could there be, to sustain them without end?

This was the reason why Gojo’s messages with updates had left the two of you so tense, since the hospital had only been abandoned recently.

Meanwhile, Nobara and Yuji were nearly finished with their assignment at the abandoned school, having found nothing noteworthy beyond a scattering of weak spirits. They were supposed to come here sooner or later.

The real problem was that you could not decipher the reason for Megumi’s grave expression, nor understand why it deepened, since you were not truly a sorcerer, but rather more of a guardian.

And you could not know that the chilling sensation seeping into your limbs, the cold breath raising goosebumps across the back of your neck, was in fact the aura of a Special Grade Spirit, the presence that had turned Megumi to stone.

A special grade spirit. Here. Now. More precisely, a Vengeful Cursed Spirit.

Such a being could only appear if a sorcerer had once been in this hospital, and in the act of cursing, had bound themselves to their beloved after death refused to be accepted.

Only Megumi’s shout of your name wrenched your awareness to the grotesque monstrosity that towered before you, babbling in words so distorted they were nearly impossible to decipher, yet enough to draw your attention against your will.

Why… should… you… be… happy… with… your… lover… instead… of… me?

Your body was hurled brutally into the wall, the impact tearing a sound of pain from your lips as blood welled in your mouth.

Megumi reacted instantly, summoning his shikigami with ferocious resolve.

He had always been uneasy with the idea of being someone who saves others. Especially when sorcerers could so easily become instruments of karmic retribution. Just as when he had saved his friend not long ago, not from obligation but purely guided by his morals, he still chose to protect people mostly because he believed they were good.

And you? The thought of the world losing someone as good, as compassionate and radiant as you, someone who warmed even the coldest chambers of his barricaded heart.

Megumi did not want to be a hero in general. But right now. When his eyes saw your body crushed so mercilessly against the ground, something within Megumi snapped violently. His rarely revealed, fiercely competitive edge ignited.

And yet he was only a Grade 2 sorcerer.

Calling forth the full strength of the Ten Shadows technique, Megumi unleashed his arsenal of shikigami. Nue was dispatched to find his comrades, who had to arrive sooner or later.

His divine dogs lunged into the enormous curse, their fangs and claws tearing, devouring, but still it was not enough. The massive toad stretched its tongue to lift you from the ground, dragging you into a zone of greater safety.

“Megumi—“

He gave you only the briefest of glances as you stumbled, slipping from the toad’s saliva, but the curse demanded his full attention, leaving him no moment to strike back.

“Damn it!”

His rough voice froze you in place as you watched him press his knuckles together, his decision final as he resolved to lock you within as well, having no other choice.

“Kangō An’eitei.”

Shadows surged like a tide, flooding ground and wall and all that surrounded you. His power expanded violently, climbing to one hundred and twenty percent, his body moving with a speed and precision that felt sharpened by desperation, as cursed spirits began to fall one by one.

Until one of his divine dogs was savagely torn apart, likely killed, its loyalty erupting as it shielded Megumi from a strike that would otherwise have devastated his face.

Of course, it was one of the dogs protected, sealed against death by your reiki.

When your scream tore out, raw with the agony burning in your chest, the sound echoed through Megumi’s domain, and his entire body trembled without his consent. The domain shuddered, its stability disintegrating with every second.

“No…No!”

He turned, his fury consuming him, blood streaming across his face from the earlier strike, and the smile that carved itself upon him was monstrous.

You lifted your head suddenly when the first words fell from his lips.

“Yatsuka-no-Tsurugi—“

“Megumi, don’t!” He shouldn’t summon Mahoraga, he really shouldn’t. That’s why you were grateful when he consented before you, murmuring. “Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen.”

Megumi’s eyes widened when he felt the source of energy pierce straight through his core, other traces spiraling around him until they formed a shield, then vanishing, invisible.

He stood now as though at the very beginning of battle, his cursed energy fully replenished, the strength of his domain brimming to its utmost for one final strike. A tear seared down his cheek as the cursed spirit disintegrated beneath the fatal blow, needing no seal, for Megumi’s power had already transcended.

He flung himself backward, collapsing to his knees, sliding desperately until he caught you, lifting you into his arms. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the blood from your lower lip as his voice came in ragged, frantic bursts.

“Why? Why, [Name]? Why you and not me? Who is responsible for you too?”

Your faint, fragile smile struck his heart still as your voice, cracked and broken, whispered.

“So you do care about me too. It warms my heart, Megumi…”

When your eyes closed, his desperation to save you was so fierce it even took Gojo off guard, when he heard the sharp gasps of Megumi’s breathing through the phone, the sound of him begging.

“Please—Come here. Now.”

Gojo blinked twice, the abrupt end of the call sounding in his ear for a breath before he transported himself instantly.

⸻

When Nobara and Yuji ran toward the hospital, they froze in place as Gojo cast a glance over his shoulder before all of them turned to take in the scene before their eyes.

Megumi’s battered, exhausted body clung desperately to yours on the ground, his grip still unyielding.

Megumi had been tormented for days as you lingered in a coma. Shoko had offered few details, merely stating, “It is not my field of expertise, since her abilities have affected her body differently than those of a sorcerer or at least of an ordinary person.”

He remained there every day in that hospital. Haunted at every moment by memories of when his sister had once been confined to a hospital bed.

You must not die. You cannot die.

Meanwhile, Nobara and Yuji were themselves deeply unsettled, yet seeing Megumi in such a state was even more disquieting, leaving them at a loss on how to approach him at all.

Standing on the chair beside him, Yuji nonetheless tried to speak.

“Maybe it’s not the right moment, but you remember when you thought I had died and yet it didn’t happen?”

Megumi’s voice was stripped of any emotion.

“Not a good moment.”

Yuji attempted again.

“Maybe inside her soul there’s a battle just like mine was. We can’t possibly know.”

Yes, exactly. Naturally he could not know, since he had never truly allowed himself to know you better.

Yet the waiting did not last more than a single day. In the middle of the night, you gasped in a rush of air, your lungs filling desperately.

As long as your body had only been pushed to the brink between life and death, you could not truly perish. Your soul was still protected by the spell cast by your master. He would likely be utterly disappointed that you had barely arrived at this school and already destroyed the protection.

Still, fortune had been on your side, for if both divine dogs had nearly died, you would have had no chance left.

When your gaze turned toward the moon through the window, you gasped softly. Your eyes instantly softened.

Megumi slept at the counter, slumped uncomfortably in the chair. He must have been beyond exhausted not to have heard your dramatic intake of breath when you awakened. You wished he were lying at your side now, but most likely Megumi would never do that. Not yet, at least.

His beautiful lashes fluttered, his eyes opening as reality struck him slowly. You were awake.

“[Name].”

His cracked, whispered voice made your fragile heart leap.

“Megumi…”

He rose from the chair, moving to your bedside as you looked up at him.

“I’m going to get the assistants—”

You caught his hand, cutting him off, feeling his muscles tense.

“No need now, Megumi.” You let silence fall between you as your gazes locked with countless unsaid emotions. “Did you stay here all day?”

Lucky for Megumi, the night concealed at least a trace of the flush on his cheeks. He squeezed your hand lightly, lowering himself back onto the chair beside your bed, his spiky hair shading his eyes as he leaned his face toward the floor.

“These past days, yes.”

His murmur was so faint you almost wondered if you had imagined it. You swallowed as your vision blurred slightly, tears beginning to flood, dampening your lower lashes.

“Thank you. I should have told you my limit sooner so you wouldn’t have worried yourself this much. I didn’t realize you would actually—“

You blinked the tears away at his sudden interjection.

“No. I should have asked myself.”

“Megumi, please don’t do as you usually do—”

He raised his hand, his reddened eyes meeting yours, both pairs locking in a fragile vulnerability as they saw one another fully.

“Can I? Can I have the chance to know you better?”

Your eyes widened before a soft laugh escaped you at how lovely he was in that moment, how open.

“Of course. I would be so happy, Megumi.”

He nodded eventually, and you barely managed to convince him to return home to sleep properly.

⸻

On the day you were released from the hospital, Megumi sat on the bench in the yard with Yuji and Nobara.

Nobara spoke suddenly, unable to contain her bluntness now that the hardest moment had passed.

“I knew it.”

Megumi tilted his head slightly, but Yuji was the one to answer her.

“Me too.”

“Who knew Fushiguro actually has a heart? Shocking.”

Yuji chuckled, patting him on the back.

“So you just need to confess, bro—”

Megumi’s cheeks turned scarlet as he grabbed Yuji by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him toward him.

“Itadori, don’t you dare say another word or I’ll k—”

Your laughter stopped them both in their tracks as you stepped toward them. You had missed this.

Megumi released Yuji, who fixed his hoodie before both he and Nobara rushed to embrace you.

“Don’t ever scare us like that again,” Yuji added. “Yeah, our hearts can’t handle it like yours can!”

Megumi looked at them over your shoulder, anxiety twisting inside him. Your eyes found his and he swallowed. After slipping free from their arms, you walked slowly toward him, and Megumi never looked away from you.

He raised his arms slightly when you embraced him, your breath steady against his chest as you intoxicated yourself with his scent, or perhaps simply the addictive fragrance of him.

Megumi could swear you must hear the violent pounding of his heart, yet he could not bring himself to push you away anymore. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself as his arms wrapped around you, his head lowering against the crown of your head.

Only when Nobara’s camera clicked did he stop, glaring at her as you chuckled.

“See you later, lovebirds.” Nobara announced as Yuji waved at both of you, while you could only gaze at Megumi with a warm smile.

Megumi scanned every detail of your beautiful features, feeling himself on the verge of madness for not knowing what to do, whether to act recklessly or to restrain himself. You sensed his hesitation, yet you trembled when he lifted his hand, his fingers brushing softly across your face.

You swallowed hard, your gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips. When your mouth parted invitingly, Megumi felt himself drawn irresistibly, being the first to press his lips tentatively to yours, afraid of rejection.

Yet when you responded with greater certainty, humming softly against his mouth, he cupped your cheeks more firmly. You slid your hand over his shoulder, rising slightly on your toes for his height. You could not know which of you had the more flushed face, entirely overcome by emotion.

Only the absence of breath could separate you, his forehead leaning against yours, his thumb brushing your cheek sweetly as he found himself incapable of speech.

That was why it was fortunate you were his opposite, unable to contain your words.

“I like you so much, Megumi.”

Megumi’s body felt electrified, barely containing the walls he always forced to stand, trembling as his eyes shut and he bit his lip. He encircled you with his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as he murmured.

“I like you more.”

He walked you home, since you still needed time to recover before returning to school.

⸻

Now that you thought about it, walking with him hand in hand like this on the street was such a stark contrast to every other time before, especially the last time, when neither of you spoke at all and both had been upset.

You felt your cheeks warm, absently brushing your ear as you thought of his kiss. When the realization struck you, you spoke at once.

“Fuck! I lost my earrings?” You ran your fingertips over your earlobe and beneath it. “Yes… Completely gone.”

You lowered yourself onto a bench in the park, Megumi’s silence not escaping your notice. You looked at him curiously.

“Megumi?”

He cleared his throat, finally raising his gaze to you with his dark, striking blue eyes.

“I saw you looking at them before.” He pulled a small box from his hoodie, fidgeting with it anxiously before revealing the pair you had admired when you were together on the mission. “After the fight you lost them. I assumed you would notice sooner, but you didn’t—”

Your heart swelled so fully you thought you might faint. Megumi gasped when you throw yourself into his arms. He grew shy at such public affection, yet your constant words of “Thank you” made him smile as he warmed you with his embrace.

There is something uniquely dangerous about loving Sasuke Uchiha because he is not a man built for easy attachment. He loves like winter soil clinging onto buried fire—quietly, reluctantly, absolutely.

In the beginning, your relationship would feel less like courtship and more like being slowly permitted closer to a feral animal that keeps expecting the hand reaching for it to become a weapon. Not because he dislikes you, it's actually the opposite; Sasuke becomes colder when he cares. He watches himself around you with frightening precision because attachment still feels dangerous to him for a very long time; he has lost too many people to trust happiness without expecting a blade to be hidden inside it. So early affection comes in strange forms: He walks you home without mentioning it, he remembers little details that you forgot about telling him, he appears beside you any time you need help, he silently positions himself between you and any perceived danger without even thinking about it. Sasuke has a deeply protective streak that becomes very obvious in a relationship. He is constantly aware of his surroundings and unconsciously keeps track of where you are, especially in crowded or dangerous situations. Sometimes it manifests subtly, like a hand at your back guiding you through a crowd, and other times it becomes intensely serious if he believes you are truly threatened. You realise he loves you long before he ever says it because his body rearranges itself around your safety.

Sasuke is deeply tactile in private and near untouchable in public. Not out of embarrassment. Possessiveness, maybe a little. Privacy? Definitely. He hates the feeling of other people witnessing something soft from him; it feels exposed in the same way standing unarmed might feel exposed. Behind closed doors, he is an entirely different creature. He adores unconscious contact like your legs thrown across his lap while he reads, your face pressed against his shoulder while he maintains his weapons, fingers hooked loosely in your clothes while you sleep. When he's exhausted, truly exhausted, he becomes clingy in ways he would vehemently deny under torture. He gravitates toward your warmth like his nervous system only powers down correctly when he's near you. The intimacy of simply existing together peacefully means far more to him than grand declarations.

Arguments with Sasuke are rarely loud. He does not explode outwardly often anymore, he freezes. Silence becomes his defence mechanism when he's hurt or overwhelmed. The problem is that his silence carries weight with it—it makes rooms feel colder, it makes air turn tight around the ribs. The hardest stage of loving Sasuke is learning that when he withdraws, he is usually trying not to wound you with whatever storm is moving through his head, and the hardest thing for him to learn is that shutting you out hurts you anyway. Eventually, the relationship becomes less about 'never fighting' and more about learning how to come back to one another afterwards. Sasuke apologises badly at first, awkwardly, like he's trying to translate into a language he barely speaks. His apologies are sincere, though, because his behaviour changes following them. That his how he tells you he loves you most consistently: correction, effort, and return. Loving him requires patience, but he gives that same patience in turn.

Sasuke is wildly observant to your emotional state. This man notices everything. The stiffness in your shoulders, the difference between tiredness and sadness, the exact tells that let him know when you're overwhelmed, when your smile is performative rather than genuine, the tone your voice takes when you're pretending to be okay. He spent years surviving by reading danger in microscopic shifts and then skill never truly disappears. The catch is that he often notices your distress before you do, and if you're someone who self-destructs privately, Sasuke becomes fiercely protective. Not controlling, necessarily, but he is very intent on reducing burdens once he realises you're reaching your limit. So he starts handling things before you ask. He'll cook, he'll take over chores, he'll steer social interactions away from you, he will stand guard like a wolf sitting before the entrance of its den.

Trust with Sasuke is sacred. He does not give trust halfway. Once you have it, you have something immovable. If someone insults you unfairly, he remembers. If someone hurts you intentionally, he remembers longer. There is an almost chilling certainty to the way his loyalty operates once you become part of his inner world. You stop fearing abandonment with him eventually because Sasuke's love is not fickle. If anything, it's stubborn to the point of self-destruction. The horrifying part is realising he would burn himself hollow protecting the people he loves if left unchecked.

Domesticity changes him more than anything else ever could. Not dramatically; Sasuke is never going to become loud or overly expressive overnight, but little things soften in him. He starts lingering instead of disappearing constantly, he learns your routines as he slowly gets used to your presence being woven into the tapestry of his life. Sometimes you catch moments that almost feel unreal: Sasuke half-asleep with his hair loose and sunlight across his face, his arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder while you cook, looking up from across the room with this unbearably gentle expression on his face like he still cannot believe you stayed. Domestic peace affects him like thawing frostbitten hands—painful, at first, then addictive.

Jealousy with Sasuke is subtle but lethal. He is not the type to start a scene, he is the type to silently appear beside you with one hand settling at your waist while staring another person down hard enough to qualify as psychological warfare. The worst part? Half the time he does not even realise he's doing it. 😭 Possessiveness leaks out of him the most when he feels emotionally insecure or disconnected from you, especially early in your relationship when part of him is still bracing to lose everything unexpectedly. Once mature trust settles in, though, the jealousy quiets down and becomes more amusing. Dry comments, calm interruptions, that infamous Uchiha Stare™ sharpening whenever someone is getting too comfortable with you.

Physical intimacy with Sasuke would be intensely emotional even when neither of you says much. Like some of the other men in the cast, vulnerability and desire are deeply intertwined for him. Eye contact matters to him, forehead touches, hands gripping fabric, breathing each other in like memorisation. Sasuke strikes me as someone who loves slowly at first, cautiously, until the dam breaks and suddenly all the suppressed intensity surfaces at once. And afterwards? Oh, the softness is ruinous. This terrifying man who looks carved from shadow and old grief delicately brushing hair from your face, thumb tracing absentmindedly across your pulse points, holding you against his chest like he's calming something ancient inside himself.

He would struggled profoundly with the idea of deserving you. Even years later, especially after happier periods in your life together. Trauma survivors sometimes become most frightened when life finally turns gentle because now there is something precious to lose. There would be nights where Sasuke looks at you with almost crushing tenderness and distance at the same time because part of him still cannot reconcile love with survival. Those moments require patience, not reassurance every second, just simple presence. Your hand in his, your forehead against his, proof that you are still here. Over time, that consistency becomes the thing that finally teaches him that peace can be survivable too.

Loving Sasuke ultimately means understanding that beneath all the restraint, intelligence, sharpness, and grief…he loves with startling sincerity. Sasuke is not a casual lover, he is not convenient, he does not do halfway. Once he lets you into his heart, you become stitched into the structure of him permanently. That kind of love from someone like Sasuke Uchiha would feel less like fireworks and more like standing beside a mountain in winter and realising that the snow-covered thing beside you would collapse the very heavens before letting you freeze alone.