#triology

The sun was hitting the concrete courtyards of Tokyo Jujutsu High at that precise, stifling angle that made the air feel like wet velvet. Yuji Itadori was sprawled back against the wooden steps of the main training grounds, an icy ice-pop dangling from his mouth as he squinted up at the clouds.

"She’s just efficient, you know?" Yuji said, taking a bite out of the popsicle with zero regard for brain freeze. "Like, boom. One hit, land, balance, done. It’s cool."

Sitting two steps above him, Megumi Fushiguro didn’t even look up from the shikigami talisman he was re-wrapping. "You’ve been talking about her footwork for forty-five minutes, Itadori."

"Because it’s good footwork!" Yuji sat up, turning around to face Megumi, his eyes wide with completely unironic enthusiasm. "And she doesn't do that weird thing Nobara does where she screams at the curse for ruining her outfit before she hits it. She just... smiles, says something funny, and then kicks it into next week. Plus! She tall. Tall, with a great personality! You know my type, Megumi. Jennifer Lawrence vibes, but, like... right here."

"She’s literally three doors down the hall," Nobara Kugisaki said, stepping out from the shadow of the corridor while drying her hair with a towel. She stopped, staring at Yuji with a look that hovered between profound pity and intense irritation. "And if you say 'tall girl with a big ass' one more time, I’m going to shove that popsicle stick down your throat. You’re pathetic."

"I’m not being pathetic!" Yuji squawked, red flushes creeping up his neck. "I’m making an observation as her senior! As a second-year! I’m taking care of my junior!"

"Right," Nobara drawled, rolling her eyes toward the heavens. "Which is why you offered to carry her training gear three times yesterday, brought her that specific strawberry milk from the vending machine near the station because she mentioned offhandedly that she liked it, and stared at the back of her head during Gojo-sensei’s lecture for so long that Maki-san had to throw an eraser at you."

"She looked like she was struggling with the kanji!" Yuji insisted, his hands waving defensively in the air. "I was being supportive!"

Megumi let out a long, slow sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Itadori. She wasn't struggling with the kanji. She was drawing a cat in her margins."

"A really good cat," Yuji muttered, slumping back down. "It had little boots."

Before Nobara could launch a sandal at his head, the gravel path near the entrance gate crunched underfoot.

[Name] walked into the courtyard, her oversized training jacket draped casually over one shoulder, a half-eaten pork bun in her other hand. Her hair was pulled back into a messy, high ponytail, a few stray dark locks framing her face, and her track pants were tucked into heavy combat boots. She was tall—easily matching Yuji’s shoulder height—with broad, capable shoulders and a wide, easy grin that seemed permanently plastered across her face.

"Hey, guys!" her voice boomed across the open dirt, warm and completely devoid of any awkwardness. "Gojo-sensei said we’re doing stamina drills, but he got distracted by a crepe stand down in Harajuku, so we’ve got like two hours to kill."

Yuji scrambled up so fast his knee nearly cracked against the wooden step. "Hey, [Name]! Did you... uh, did you finish the pork bun?"

She blinked, looking down at the remaining bite in her hand, then looked up at him, her hazel eyes twinkling with simple, bright humor. "Yeah! Well, almost. Want the last bite? The filling's really good today."

She held it out without a single second thought. Zero hesitation. Zero romantic subtext in her own mind—just pure, generous buddy-energy.

Yuji’s brain short-circuited. His stomach did a strange, terrifying flip that felt distinctly like getting hit with a Black Flash, except instead of cursed energy, it was raw, unadulterated panic.

"I—uh. Sure!" Yuji leaned forward and bit the last piece directly out of her fingers, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

[Name] just laughed, wiping her hand on her pants. "Right? Good, huh? Oh, hey, Itadori-senpai, your mouth has a little sauce on it."

Before Yuji could process the word senpai, [Name] reached out and lightly tapped the corner of his lip with her thumb, completely casual, completely innocent, before turning toward Nobara. "Kugisaki-san! Did you see the new chapter of that manga came out?"

Behind her, Megumi watched Yuji freeze into a literal statue. Yuji’s hand slowly lifted to touch his own cheek where her thumb had been. His face was burning so bright it looked like he’d been exposed to radiation.

Nobara caught Megumi’s eye across the yard. Megumi slowly shook his head, a look of profound exhaustion settling over his features.

They are both idiots, Megumi’s eyes said.

Absolute, complete dumbasses, Nobara’s glare replied.

The problem wasn't that Yuji didn't know he was attracted to her. Yuji was eighteen, simple-minded in the purest ways, and entirely honest with himself about what he liked. [Name] was gorgeous. She had long, strong legs, a loud, wheezing laugh that made her eyes crinkle up into little crescents, and she didn't treat him like a vessel holding the King of Curses. She treated him like Yuji.

He knew he was attracted to her. What he didn't realize was that he was hopelessly, hopelessly in love.

To Yuji, "being in love" was something dramatic. It was movie stuff. Rainstorms, sweeping musical scores, confessing under cherry blossoms while holding hands. What he felt for [Name] just felt like... breathing. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to make her laugh until she had to slap her knee. He wanted to make sure she didn't get hurt on missions.

He thought he was just being a good guy.

"Hey, [Name]," Yuji said later that afternoon, leaning against the wooden frame of the training room door. They were supposed to be polishing light-grade cursed tools.

[Name] was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a cloth in one hand and a dull naginata in the other, humming an off-key tune. "Yeah, Senpai?"

"You ever think about, like... what you wanna do when we get a break? Like a real break? No curses, no Gojo-sensei giving us weird assignments?"

She paused, tilting her head up. Her expression was completely blank for a second before a huge, brilliant smile broke across her face. "Oh! I wanna go to that massive arcade in Shibuya! The one with the four-story claw machines. I heard they have a giant plushie of that weird blue dog character."

"The blue dog!" Yuji’s eyes lit up instantly. "I know that one! It’s huge! It’s like... three feet tall!"

"Right?!" [Name] practically bounced in place, setting the naginata down. "I tried to win it last year before I came here, but I ran out of hundred-yen coins. I was so mad!"

"I'll win it for you," Yuji said immediately.

No hesitation. No filter. Just straight-up, unadulterated declaration.

[Name] blinked, her big eyes widening slightly. "Wait, really? Those claw machines are totally rigged, Itadori-senpai."

"I don't care!" Yuji grinned, slamming his chest with a fist. "I’ve got precise muscle control! I'll break the machine if I have to! You want the giant blue dog, I’m getting you the giant blue dog."

[Name] stared at him for a long beat. A faint, barely noticeable rosy flush dusted the bridge of her nose, but her brain completely sidestepped the romantic implication.

Gosh, she thought to herself, Itadori-senpai is the best senior ever. He’s so nice to his underclassmen! What a great friend!

"You're the best, Itadori!" she beamed, lunging forward and clapping him heavily on the shoulder. "If you win it, I’ll buy you two—no, three layers of shaved ice!"

"Deal!" Yuji shouted, beaming back, completely unaware that his heart was threatening to break through his sternum.

From the hallway outside, Maki Zen'in stopped in her tracks, leaning against the wall alongside Panda.

"Look at them," Maki said, rubbing her temples. "It’s physically painful."

"It’s kind of sweet," Panda offered, crossing his massive arms. "It’s like watching two golden retrievers try to figure out a door handle."

"They've been 'door-handling' for three weeks, Panda," Maki grunted, kicking off the wall. "If one of them doesn't make a move soon, I'm going to throw them both in a storage closet and lock the door."

The opportunity for the universe to force their hand arrived three days later, as it usually did in their line of work: wrapped in heavy gray clouds and smelling of wet asphalt.

A Grade 2 curse had manifested in an abandoned elementary school on the outskirts of Saitama. It was a routine sweep—nothing complex—so Gojo had paired Yuji and [Name] together for "cooperative field training."

"Now remember, Yuji-kun!" Gojo had chirped from the driver's seat of the auxiliary car before dumping them at the rusted gates. "Protect your sweet underclassman! And [Name]-chan, don't let Yuji eat anything weird off the floor!"

"I don't eat stuff off the floor!" Yuji had yelled after the departing car.

Now, hours later, the curtain had lifted, but a sudden, torrential downpour had trapped them under the narrow overhang of the school's side entrance. The curse was dead—vaporized by a combination of [Name]’s heavy-hitting cursed-energy-infused kicks and Yuji’s signature Divergent Fist—but the rain was falling in thick, grey sheets that turned the surrounding dirt into a sea of mud.

[Name] was leaning back against the cool brick wall, catching her breath. Her uniform jacket was soaked at the shoulders, her dark hair clinging to her cheeks and neck. She was panting slightly, steam rising off her warm skin in the chilly air.

Yuji was standing a step ahead of her, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching the rain. But every three seconds, his eyes flicked back to her.

She looked... incredible.

Not in a polished, magazine way, but in a raw, real, alive way. Her breathing was steadying, a bright grin still lingering on her face despite the mud splattered across her jaw. She wiped a line of sweat from her forehead, laughing softly.

"Man, that last hit you did was insane, Senpai!" she said, looking up at him. "The way you shifted your weight before the second pulse of energy... I’ve been trying to get my momentum like that, but I keep throwing myself off balance."

"It's all in the hips," Yuji said, stepping back toward her under the narrow shelter. The overhang was small; stepping closer meant their shoulders were nearly touching. He could smell the rain on her, mixed with the faint scent of her soap—something simple and clean, like citrus. "Here, look."

He shifted his feet, demonstrating the stance in the narrow space. "You’re leaning too far forward because you’re expecting the impact. You gotta keep your core tight, like this."

[Name] leaned in close to watch his feet, her shoulder brushing against his arm. "Like... here?" She adjusted her stance, mimicking him, but her boot slipped slightly on the wet concrete.

"Woah—"

Yuji caught her instantly. His left arm shot around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest to keep her from falling into the muddy drain, while his right hand instinctively caught her shoulder.

Time didn't stop—this wasn't a fairy tale—but the sound of the rain suddenly sounded very far away.

[Name] was pressed tightly against him. She was tall enough that her forehead rested right near his chin. He could feel the solid, strong heat of her body, the quick rise and fall of her chest against his, and the faint, rapid pulse of her heartbeat right against his ribs.

She looked up. Her eyes were wide, hazel iris flecked with gold under the dim afternoon light.

"Gotcha," Yuji whispered. His voice came out much lower than he intended, thick and slightly raspy.

[Name] didn't move. For the first time since he had met her, the easy, careless humor evaporated from her face. Her lips parted slightly. She looked at his eyes, then down at his mouth, then back up to his eyes. A deep, unmistakable flush bloomed across her cheeks, spreading all the way down to her neck.

"Uh," she said. Her voice was barely a breath. "Thanks, Senpai."

Yuji’s brain finally caught up to the reality of the situation.

His hand was on her waist. His fingers were digging slightly into the fabric of her damp shirt. He could feel the curve of her hip, the strength of her back. He was holding her. Really, truly holding her.

And suddenly, the realization didn't come like a slow dawn. It hit him like a freight train moving at two hundred miles an hour.

Oh.

Oh, no.

I don't just think she's cool.

I don't just think she's pretty.

I am completely, utterly, insanely in love with her.

The sheer weight of it made Yuji’s knees feel weak. It wasn't Jennifer Lawrence. It was her. It was her wheezing laugh, her stupid cat drawings, the way she ate pork buns, the way her shoulder felt against his, the way she said his name with that genuine, unbothered respect.

"Itadori-senpai?" [Name] asked softly, her hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest—not pushing him away, just... touching him. "You okay? Your face is really red. Did you get hit by the curse?"

"I—" Yuji choked on his own spit. He let go of her waist so fast he nearly fell over backward into the rain himself. "I'm fine! I'm totally fine! Stance was good! Great stance! Excellent center of gravity!"

He turned around and faced the rain, his hands slammed into his face, his ears burning so hot he thought they might melt off his head.

[Name] stood there, holding her own waist where his hand had just been. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears. Why did my stomach feel like that? she thought, utterly bewildered by her own body. Did I eat bad pork? No... Itadori-senpai just... he looked really...

She stared at the back of his pink hair, her own face burning. ...he looked really cool.

When the transport car finally brought them back to Jujutsu High that evening, the heavy rain had cleared into a cool, crisp dusk.

Yuji walked three paces ahead of [Name], carrying both of their tactical gear bags stacked on his shoulders, refusing to look back because every time he did, his brain completely melted.

[Name] walked behind him, kicking little pebbles along the path, staring at his wide back and wondering why her hands felt so fidgety.

They reached the dorm courtyard, where the rest of the group was gathered on the porch. Nobara was sipping iced tea, Megumi was reading a book, and Gojo was sitting balance-style on the railing, swinging his legs like a child.

"Welcome back, lovebirds!" Gojo called out cheerfully.

"We're not lovebirds!" Yuji and [Name] yelled in exact, perfect unison.

The synchronized scream was so loud a flock of crows flew out of the nearby pine trees.

Yuji dropped [Name]’s bag at her feet, his face redder than a ripe tomato. "I'm going to... go do five thousand push-ups! In my room! Alone!"

He turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway like he was being chased by a Special Grade curse, slamming his dorm door so hard the wooden frame rattled.

[Name] stood in the courtyard, blinking in confusion. She looked down at her bag, then up at the rest of the group.

"Is... is Itadori-senpai mad at me?" she asked, her voice dropping into a genuinely worried, small tone. "Did I do something wrong during the exorcism?"

Nobara slowly lowered her iced tea. She looked at [Name]. Then she looked at Megumi.

Megumi closed his book with a soft thud.

"No, [Name]," Nobara said, rubbing her temples with an expression of profound, saint-like patience. "He is not mad at you. He is currently having an existential crisis because he realizes he’s a massive idiot."

[Name] tilted her head, her pony-tail flopping over her shoulder. "An existential crisis? About what?"

"About you, you dense piece of wood," Nobara muttered under her breath, though she made sure [Name] couldn't quite hear it. Aloud, she just sighed. "Don't worry about it. Hey... do you want to go to that arcade in Shibuya this weekend?"

[Name]’s face lit up instantly, her usual bright energy bouncing right back. "Oh! Yeah! Itadori-senpai said he was gonna win me that giant blue dog plushie!"

Megumi looked up at the sky, silently asking whatever gods were listening for strength.

"Yeah," Megumi muttered, standing up and walking toward the dorms. "I'm sure he will."

Inside his room, Yuji was currently face-down on his futon, screaming into a pillow.

He was eighteen, he was a jujutsu sorcerer, he had Sukuna inside his soul, and he was completely, hopelessly, terribly done for.

And as he lay there, his face burning into the cotton pillowcase, a tiny, unstoppable smile broke across his face anyway.