Today, however, the common area was dead silent.

The air was heavy, not with the oppressive presence of a special-grade curse, but with something far more terrifying: the rich, buttery, savory aroma of freshly baked beef stew, homemade milk bread, and a perfectly glazed strawberry tart sitting dead center on the low coffee table.

Yuji and Nobara were currently on their hands and knees, staring at the spread like it was an ancient, forbidden relic.

"It’s still warm," Yuji whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of reverence and profound psychological distress. "Nobara... the steam is still coming off the bread."

"I see it, Itadori. Keep your voice down," Nobara hissed back, her eyes wide, her knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the table. "If we look away, it might disappear. Or worse... it might turn out to be a curse user’s trap."

From the armchair, the crisp sound of a page turning broke the silence.

"It’s not a trap," Megumi said, his voice flat, completely unbothered. "She made it because she knew we’d be back from the Miyagi mission late. She said you two looked like you weren’t eating enough vegetables the last time she saw you."

Yuji’s head snapped toward Megumi so fast his neck made a sickening pop sound. "You say that so casually! 'She made it.' 'She said.' Fushiguro, do you have any idea what you are doing to our fragile mental states?!"

"He doesn't care, Yuji," Nobara said, her voice dropping an octave into a tone of pure, unadulterated betrayal. "Look at him. Sitting there. With his dumb spikey hair and his dumb shadow puppets. He thinks he’s better than us just because a literal angel descended from the heavens, looked at his sullen, emotionally stunted face, and said, 'Yes, I would like to date this specific hedgehog.'"

Megumi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He closed his book with a soft thud. "She isn’t an angel. She’s just a normal person. And I told you, she likes cooking for groups. If you don't want it, I'll eat it all myself."

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!" Yuji and Nobara screamed in unison, throwing themselves over the food like secret service agents protecting a president.

To understand the depth of their psychological crisis, one had to understand that Megumi Fushiguro was supposed to be the sensible, boring one. He was the guy who drank black coffee, complained about people who didn't follow proper garbage sorting rules, and whose idea of a wild Friday night was reading a book about ancient architecture while his dogs napped on his feet.

He was not supposed to have a girlfriend.

And yet, three weeks ago, the universe had proved them wrong.

They had been walking back through the streets of Tokyo after an exhausting, muddy exorcism in an abandoned subway line. Yuji had a smudge of grease across his forehead, Nobara’s uniform was torn at the sleeve, and Megumi looked like he usually did—grumpy, tired, and ready to sleep for a week.

Suddenly, a voice had cut through the crowd. A soft, clear, genuinely joyful voice.

"Megumi-kun!"

Yuji and Nobara had stopped in their tracks. They had looked at each other, then looked at Megumi. Megumi’s shoulders had instantly dropped their defensive posture. His face hadn't exactly cracked into a smile—that would require a miracle—but his eyes had softened in a way that neither of his classmates had ever seen before.

Walking toward them was a girl. A profoundly, unfairly pretty girl. She had soft, bouncing hair, a smile that seemed to emit actual, physical light, and she was wearing a yellow sundress that looked entirely too clean for the grime of Tokyo’s jujutsu underworld.

She had jogged up to Megumi, completely ignoring his intimidating black uniform and the fact that he was covered in dirt, and lightly caught his sleeve.

"I thought that was you," she had said, beaming up at him. "Are you finally done with work for the day? You look exhausted."

Megumi had rubbed the back of his neck, a faint tint of pink dusting his ears. "Yeah. Just finished. What are you doing around here?"

"Buying groceries for dinner. I was hoping I’d run into you." She had then turned her bright, sparkling eyes onto Yuji and Nobara. "Oh! Are these your friends from school? The ones you told me about?"

At that exact moment, Yuji’s brain had short-circuited. He had looked at Megumi. Then at the girl. Then at Megumi’s hand, which was now lightly resting on the small of her back in a protective, entirely natural gesture.

"I'm Itadori Yuji!" Yuji had bellowed, bowing so hard his forehead nearly hit the pavement. "It is an honor to meet someone who can tolerate Fushiguro!"

"Hey! Stand up, you’re embarrassing me," Nobara had hissed, shoving Yuji aside before presenting herself with the poise of a high-fashion model. "Kugisaki Nobara. And let me just say, sweetie... if he’s kidnapping you, or holding you hostage via some weird shadow curse, just blink twice. I have a hammer and I am not afraid to use it."

The girl had laughed—a sound that Yuji later described as "like little silver bells ringing in a meadow"—and shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Megumi-kun is very sweet to me. I'm so glad to finally meet you both. He talks about you all the time."

"He does?!" Yuji and Nobara had gasped, turning glares of absolute shock onto Megumi.

Megumi had aggressively looked away, his entire face now bright red. "We have to go. Gojo is waiting for the report."

"Right, of course," she had said understandingly, reaching into her tote bag and pulling out a beautifully wrapped container tied with a pink ribbon. "Here. I made some lemon tarts this morning. I brought enough for your classmates and your teacher. Please eat them before they get warm!"

She had handed the container to a catatonic Yuji, given Megumi a soft, lingering wave, and walked away into the sunset.

That had been three weeks ago. Since then, the reality of "Megumi's Girlfriend" had become a permanent, baffling fixture in their lives.

Back in the dorm common room, Yuji finally cracked. He grabbed a piece of the homemade milk bread, tore it in half, and shoved it into his mouth.

For a second, his eyes rolled back into his head. He let out a low, guttural moan of pure culinary ecstasy. "Oh my god. It's so soft. It’s like eating a cloud that was baked by a saint."

"Let me try!" Nobara grabbed a spoon, scooped up a generous portion of the beef stew, and ate it. Her expression instantly shifted from suspicious rage to profound, weeping reverence. "The meat... it just dissolves. How does she get the carrots this tender without them turning to mush? Itadori, she’s a witch. A culinary sorcerer. She’s using a cursed technique on the kitchen, there’s no other explanation."

"I told you," Megumi said, not looking up from his book. "She just follows the recipe."

"Shut up, Fushiguro! You don't deserve her!" Nobara pointed her spoon at him accusingly. "You don't appreciate the artistry! Look at you, just sitting there, existing, while a Michelin-star chef pours her heart and soul into Tupperware for you!"

"I do appreciate it," Megumi muttered, a slight defensive edge entering his voice. "I washed the containers from last week and brought them back to her. And I bought her those specific strawberries for the tart."

Yuji stopped chewing, his mouth full of bread. He swallowed hard. "Wait. You bought her strawberries? Like... on purpose? To be romantic?"

"To be useful," Megumi corrected, though his ears were turning pink again. "She said she wanted to bake something with fruit. I saw them at the market. It’s not a big deal."

"It is a huge deal!" Yuji yelled, slamming his hands on the table. "Fushiguro is doing boyfriend things! The world is ending! Next thing you know, he’s gonna start wearing matching sweaters or holding hands in public!"

"We already hold hands," Megumi said flatly.

Yuji and Nobara froze.

"You... what?" Nobara whispered.

"We hold hands. When we walk. It’s a normal thing people do." Megumi finally looked up, staring at them like they were insane. "Why are you acting like I confessed to a crime?"

"Because it feels like a crime!" Nobara cried out, clutching her head. "You’re Megumi Fushiguro! You’re supposed to be the brooding, dark, mysterious lone wolf who dies alone in a pile of ancient texts! You aren't supposed to have a sweet, pretty girl who holds your hand and bakes us lemon tarts! It throws off the entire dynamic of our trio! Now Yuji and I look like the pathetic, single losers we actually are!"

"Speak for yourself, Nobara! I have a thriving inner life!" Yuji protested, though he looked deeply hurt by the reminder.

Before the argument could escalate, the door to the common area burst open with a dramatic BANG.

"Did someone say... home-cooked meals?!"

A towering figure stepped into the room, practically radiating a chaotic, blinding energy. Satoru Gojo stood in the doorway, his signature black blindfold in place, a massive, predatory grin stretched across his face. He didn't even look at his students; his nose was elevated, sniffing the air like a hound tracking a fox.

"Ah! The unmistakable scent of a girl who actually knows how to season food!" Gojo cheered, practically teleporting across the room. Before Yuji or Nobara could react, Gojo had already snatched a piece of the milk bread and scooped a massive portion of the stew into a bowl he had apparently brought with him from his own quarters.

"Sensei! That’s ours!" Yuji wailed.

"Sharing is caring, Yuji-kun!" Gojo mumbled around a mouthful of stew. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "Ah... wonderful. Magnificent. Truly, Megumi, I have never been prouder of you as a mentor. When you first brought home those stray dogs, I thought, 'Well, at least he likes animals.' But to bring home a girl who can cook like this? You’ve surpassed all my expectations."

"Please don't talk about her like she’s a stray animal."

"Oh, come on! A girl this sweet? Whispering sweet nothings into your grumpy little ears?" Gojo leaned over the back of Megumi's chair, draping his long arms over the boy’s shoulders and violently ruffling his hair. "Tell me, tell me! Does she call you 'Megumi-chan'? Does she make you custom bento boxes with little octopus sausages? Oh, I bet she does! I bet she puts little love notes in them!"

"She doesn't do the octopus sausages," Megumi said, trying and failing to pry Gojo's arm off his neck. "And she calls me Megumi. Just Megumi."

"Boring!" Gojo laughed, finally releasing him and sliding into the empty spot on the sofa between Yuji and Nobara. He immediately reached for the strawberry tart. "But seriously, boys and girls, we must protect this relationship with our lives. If Megumi fumbles this, we go back to eating convenience store rice balls and whatever weird cabbage soup Ijichi tries to make. We cannot let that happen."

"We won't let it happen!" Nobara declared, her eyes burning with a sudden, fierce determination. She grabbed Megumi by his collar, pulling him forward until they were eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, Fushiguro. If you break her heart, I don't care about your Ten Shadows technique. I will nail your shadow to the floor and leave you there. Do you understand me? She is a national treasure."

"I'm not going to break her heart," Megumi muttered, breaking her grip and smoothing down his uniform. "We’ve been dating for four months. It’s fine."

"FOUR MONTHS?!" Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo screamed in unison.

"You kept it a secret for four months?!" Yuji looked like he was about to faint. "We’ve been through life-and-death battles together! I died! I literally died and came back, and you didn't think to mention, 'Hey, by the way, I have a girlfriend'?!"

"Why would I?" Megumi asked, genuinely confused. "It didn't have anything to do with missions. And I knew exactly how you all would react. Look at you right now. You’re making a scene over stew."

"It’s not just stew, Megumi," Gojo said, his voice suddenly dropping into a rare, mock-serious tone. He lifted his blindfold just enough to flash one bright, piercing blue eye. "It’s about trust. It’s about community. It’s about the fact that you’re hoarding a source of infinite joy and light in this dark, cursed world. Next time she comes over, you are required to invite us to greet her properly."

"Absolutely not," Megumi said instantly. "She thinks I go to a private religious school for troubled youth. If she meets you three for more than five minutes, she’s going to realize I'm actually surrounded by lunatics."

"Hey! I am a perfectly normal teenage girl!" Nobara protested.

"And I'm a delight!" Gojo added, giving a peace sign.

Yuji just looked down at his empty plate, a tear rolling down his cheek. "She made the carrots into little stars, Fushiguro. Little stars. If that isn't love, I don't know what is."

A week passed, and despite Megumi’s best efforts to keep his personal life entirely separate from his chaotic jujutsu existence, fate—and Satoru Gojo—had other plans.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The first-years had just finished a grueling training session with Maki and Panda, leaving Yuji and Nobara completely drained, covered in sweat, and complaining bitterly about their sore muscles. Megumi was similarly exhausted, leaning against the main gate of the Jujutsu High campus as they waited for Ijichi to bring the car around for a grocery run.

Suddenly, a familiar, bright voice echoed from the path leading up the hill.

"Megumi-kun!"

Megumi froze. Yuji and Nobara snapped awake instantly, their exhaustion vanishing as if cured by a reverse cursed technique.

Walking up the paved path, carrying a heavy-looking insulated tote bag, was the girlfriend. Today, she was wearing a soft pink cardigan and a white skirt, looking completely out of place against the ancient, imposing, traditional architecture of the jujutsu school.

"What is she doing here?" Megumi muttered, panic visibly flaring in his eyes for the first time in his life. He immediately started walking down the path to intercept her. "I told her I’d meet her at the station..."

"Oh, no you don't!" Nobara grabbed the back of Megumi's collar, yanking him backward with supernatural strength. "You aren't hiding her from us!"

"Let go, Kugisaki—"

Before Megumi could break free, the girl had already reached them. She stopped, slightly out of breath, a bright, rosy flush on her cheeks. "Oh, hello everyone! I'm sorry to drop by unannounced. Megumi-kun left his umbrella at my apartment over the weekend, and I saw on the weather report that it’s supposed to pour this evening."

She reached into her bag, pulling out Megumi’s sleek, black umbrella, along with three beautifully wrapped, identical boxes.

"And since I knew you all worked so hard at your... religious studies," she continued, smiling sweetly at Yuji and Nobara, "I made some bento boxes for your lunch. I made sure to include extra protein since Megumi-kun mentioned you’ve been doing a lot of physical conditioning lately."

Yuji fell to his knees. "An angel. A literal, actual angel."

"Please, stand up, Itadori-kun," she said, giggling as she handed him a box. "It’s really nothing special. Just some ginger pork, tamagoyaki, and pickled plums."

"Nothing special?!" Nobara gasped, reverently accepting her bento box as if it were the Holy Grail. "Sweetheart, you are a saint!" She immediately turned a vicious glare onto Megumi. "Did you thank her? Fushiguro, did you open your mouth and form the words 'thank you,' or did you just grunt like a caveman?"

"I thanked her when she told me she was making it," Megumi said through gritted teeth, his face burning with embarrassment. "You guys need to stop."

"We will never stop," a voice boomed from above.

Megumi’s soul physically left his body as Satoru Gojo dropped down from the roof of the gatehouse, landing flawlessly right next to them.

"Ah! The lovely lady herself!" Gojo grinned, leaning down to bring himself eye-level with the girl. Even with his blindfold on, his presence was overwhelming. "I don't believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Satoru Gojo, Megumi's incredibly handsome, talented, and beloved teacher."

The girl didn't flinch. In fact, her eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! Gojo-sensei! Megumi-kun has told me so much about you!"

Megumi looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "I haven't told you that much..."

"He told me you’re a bit of a handful, but that you really care about your students," she said with a warm, genuine smile. She reached into her tote bag one last time and pulled out a slightly larger, gold-ribboned box. "I made this specifically for you, Sensei. Megumi-kun mentioned you have a massive sweet tooth, so it’s a triple-chocolate fudge cake with homemade raspberry glaze."

Gojo froze. For a terrifying two seconds, the strongest sorcerer alive was completely speechless. He stared at the box, then at the girl, then at Megumi.

Gojo slowly lifted his blindfold, revealing his striking, glowing blue eyes. He looked at the cake with a level of intensity usually reserved for special-grade curses. He took the box with trembling hands.

"You... you made this? For me?" Gojo whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Based on a casual complaint Megumi made?"

"It wasn't a complaint! It was just a fact!" Megumi yelled, his face completely red now.

"Yes," the girl said, totally unfazed by Gojo's dramatic reaction. "Megumi-kun cares about you a lot, Sensei. He doesn't say it out loud, but he always worries when you’re away on long trips. I figured a little sugar might help with your stressful job."

Gojo clutched the cake to his chest, a single, dramatic tear rolling down his cheek. He spun around, pointing a finger at Megumi.

"Megumi Fushiguro," Gojo said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "If you ever, ever let this girl go, I will personally excommunicate you from the jujutsu world. I will hand your position as head of the Zenin clan over to a curse. Do you understand me? She is the light of our lives."

"I told you to stop!" Megumi snapped, finally losing his cool. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand—causing Yuji and Nobara to let out synchronized, high-pitched gasps—and began gently pulling her away down the path. "Come on. I'll walk you to the station. Ignore them. They’re all insane."

The girl didn't look bothered at all. She just laughed her musical laugh, waving back at the trio as Megumi dragged her away. "Goodbye, everyone! Enjoy the bento! Make sure Megumi-kun eats his carrots!"

"WE WILL!" Yuji and Nobara screamed back, waving frantically like children watching a ship sail away.

"We love you!" Gojo yelled, already tearing into the gold ribbon of his chocolate cake.

Ten minutes later, Megumi returned to the gate alone. His umbrella was hooked over his arm, his hands were in his pockets, and his expression was a mask of pure, defensive hostility.

Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo were sitting in a circle on the grass, their respective bento boxes and cake open before them. They were eating in a state of quiet, spiritual enlightenment.

"Sit," Nobara commanded, pointing a chopstick at the empty patch of grass.

Megumi sighed and sat down, crossing his legs. "What do you want?"

"We want details, Fushiguro," Yuji said, his mouth full of perfectly seasoned ginger pork. "How did this happen? How did a guy who looks like a disappointed wet cat manage to land a girl who bakes custom chocolate cakes for his annoying teacher?"

"I told you, we met at a bookstore," Megumi said dryly. "We were both looking at the same section on regional history. We started talking. That’s it."

"And then what?" Nobara pressed, leaning in. "Did you ask for her number? Did you use your weird, brooding charm? Did you summon Divine Dog to trick her into petting it?"

Megumi’s eyes widened slightly, a guilty flash passing over his features.

"HA! YOU DID!" Nobara shrieked, pointing at him. "You used the dogs! You absolute scoundrel! You weaponized the fluffy shadows!"

"I didn't weaponize them," Megumi protested, looking away. "It was raining on our second date. We were walking past a park, and she was talking about how she always wanted a dog but her apartment didn't allow pets. I... I just summoned the white one for a second so she could pet it. I told her it was a special breed."

"A special breed?!" Yuji burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "A special breed of what, Fushiguro?! A shikigami generated from your cursed energy?!"

"She thought it was a very large, well-behaved husky," Megumi muttered, his cheeks flushing pink again. "She gave him a treat. He liked her. He wouldn't leave her alone."

"Of course he liked her, she radiates positive energy!" Gojo chimed in, a massive smear of chocolate frosting on his cheek. "Even cursed energy probably purifies itself around her. This cake is a masterpiece, by the way. I might cry. I might actually cry, Megumi."

"Please don't," Megumi said.

"But seriously, Fushiguro," Yuji said, his tone softening a bit as he looked at his friend. "She really likes you. Like, a lot. The way she looks at you... it’s like she thinks you hung the moon or something. It’s kind of nice to see."

Megumi looked down at his lap, his expression softening just a fraction. He traced a pattern on the grass with his finger. "She’s... she’s good to me. She doesn't know anything about curses, or sorcery, or any of the terrible things we see every day. When I'm with her, I don't have to be a sorcerer. I can just... be me."

The common area went quiet. Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look, their teasing nature instantly melting away into genuine, heartfelt affection for their friend. They knew better than anyone how heavy the burden of being a jujutsu sorcerer was, especially for Megumi, who carried the weight of his clan and his past on his shoulders.

Nobara reached over, lightly punching Megumi’s shoulder. "Well... she’s too good for you, obviously. But I guess we’ll let it slide. Just make sure you treat her right, okay? If she ever stops bringing us those lemon tarts because you were being a moody brat, I will personally exorcise you."

Megumi let out a very small, barely perceptible smile. "Yeah. I know."

"Group hug!" Gojo cheered, throwing his long arms around all three of them, ignoring their loud groans and protests as he smeared chocolate frosting onto Nobara’s hair.

A month later, a small package arrived at the Jujutsu High dorms, addressed to Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo.

Inside were three boxes of handmade, sugar-dusted cookies shaped like little dogs—one black, one white—along with a small note written in elegant, looping handwriting:

To Megumi-kun’s friends and Sensei,Thank you for always taking such good care of him during your studies. He seems much happier lately, and I know it’s because he has such wonderful people around him. Please enjoy these treats! P.S. Megumi-kun, don't forget to eat your vegetables!

Yuji and Nobara sat on the floor, chewing on the dog-shaped cookies with tears in their eyes, while Gojo happily munched on a whole handful at once.

"We have to protect her," Yuji whispered.

"With our lives," Nobara agreed solemnly.

From the armchair, Megumi just sighed, turned the page of his book, and secretly pulled a small, hand-knitted green coaster out of his pocket—a gift she had made to keep his coffee mugs from leaving rings on his desk. He smiled, just a little, completely at peace.

“It’s me.” Maki’s straightforward cadence turns Nobara around. Usually, Maki can bring out an excited reaction out of her but Nobara simply greets her with raised brows. When Maki throws up a wave with a slight smirk, Nobara settles back into her aloof state. That told Maki all she needed to know. 

“Heard you raged on your friends.” Maki sits next to her, her legs still against the stone wall. 

“I do that all the time. They sent you as a mediator?” 

“Itadori thought I can dig the problem out of you. He said your outburst wasn’t a playful rage but more of a... rage rage as Itadori put it.” Maki explained. Nobara shrugs. 

“I get you have shit going on but you probably shouldn’t take it out on those two.” 

Nobara scoffed, “They sure sent the wrong messenger. You’re the girl who shouted at Okkotsu hours after he woke up. The same guy who, without him, all of us would have been nothing but blood and bones.” 

“That’s...” Maki trails, not having a good defense ready to combat. She was a master of physical combat but verbal arguments weren’t her forte.  

“Everyone’s telling me how to feel and it’s annoying as shit.” Nobara mumbles. 

Maki turns to her, “Okay, so tell me how you feel.” 

Nobara side eyes her for a moment before releasing a deep breath. 

“I don’t know how I feel really. Some days I’m fine. Some days I feel pissed off for no reason. Other days I hate the way this dumb eyepatch looks on me. Then there are days where I don’t feel anything. I’m all over the place. You’ll just be confused if I try to explain.” Nobara shakes her head, feeling stupid for saying all of this. 

A block. Maki sees what those two was talking about now. It’s been a week and a half since the battle on Shinjuku and Nobara has been closing her friends off when it comes to her deep-rooted problems. Maki didn’t even have a right to criticize the way she’s acting. She isn’t the best in expressing herself either and she’s no stranger to building up walls as a social defense. 

Maki holds out her left arm, dragging her fingertip along the patches of dark red. “Wondered how I got these?” 

Nobara takes her chin off her palm and faces Maki. “I heard you got burned by some special grade cursed spirit.” 

“I let my guard down for a couple seconds and that volcano fuck got me. Can’t believe I’m still alive after that night.” 

Chills run through Nobara every time October 31st comes up. Before 2018, Halloween was her favorite holiday. A holiday giving her an excuse to dress up, pretend to be a cool character, and eat as much sugary treats as you want? Sign her up. It’s crazy how one night ruined her fondness for a holiday that gave her so many happy, fun memories years prior. 

“After I recovered, I went over to the Zenin estate to retrieve some curse tools and ended up killing my family.” 

Nobara’s eye go wide. “Even your sister?” 

Maki shakes her head, lips tight. “No. She...” 

Nobara reaches to rub her back. “You don’t have to.” 

“I barely had time to process her being gone. I didn’t even have time to reflect on that night in Shibuya, not that I want to think about it anyway. I don’t remember most of that night, but these burns keep taking me back to that moment.” 

“How do you feel about your new look?” Nobara asked. 

Maki sighs, “I don’t know. I don’t care about my looks that much but my short hair and burns took a long time getting used to. Regardless how I feel about it, this is me now, so it’s not worth sulking over.” Nobara hums in response. 

“My appearance didn’t change too much but man I hate putting eyeliner and eyeshadow on one eye. It’s so weird and throws off a lot of my looks.” 

Maki chuckles, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” Nobara laughs along. “No, it’s fine. Making fun of myself has been the best way to cope with my butchered beauty.” 

Their light laughter dies down into the sounds of nature being their moment of comfort. Maki looks out on the distance while Nobara focuses on the skin of her arm, digging up more inner conflict to share. They’re already spilling their guts to each other so she has no more pride to lose. 

“Seriously though, I get your frustration, but you got to realize that people process shit differently than you. I know it’s annoying to see someone who seems like their doing good and you feel like shit. Hell, that’s why I used to rag on Yuta a lot when we met. He used to make me sick with his soft outlook on life and his meek personality. He grew on me, although it took a while.” 

“I just feel like everyone has already moved on from that night. I know I missed like two months of life but everything is moving so fast and it’s hard to keep up with reality.” 

Maki stays quiet, she can tell Nobara has a lot to get out.  

“I feel so left out in conversations most of the time. Fushiguro and Itadori would talk about something that happened during the Culling Games and I feel like I’m taking up space for five minutes straight. It’s not just them, my friend from home moved away in November and I just found out a few days ago. I can tell she’s been keeping some things from me and our conversations are getting shorter and shorter. She was my best friend since I was six. I’m being left behind and it fucking sucks.” 

Maki stares at her, noticing her strong voice breaking into struggling vulnerability. Her eyes soften. “Life can beat our ass but the world keeps spinning. You just gotta find time to deal with your junk so it doesn’t weigh you down in the future.” 

Nobara lips quiver before the tears came rushing without warning. She covers her face to hide her pain from someone she tries hard to look cool in front of. Maki was a cool girl so the last thing she wanted to do was look lame and give her a reason not to be friends with her. Yet, this cool girl reaches over and rubs Nobara back. Something that will surprise Nobara when she reflects on their conversation several hours from now.  

Maki grabs the side of her shoulder and pulls her closer to her side. That gave Nobara the permission to weep on her chest. Maki continues rubbing her back, silently comforting a girl like her. A girl who got the short end of the stick in life. The two stay like this as snow floats from the tree above.  

Their body warmth comforts each other against the cruel breeze of winter. 

A/N 2: I don't like dictating how the reader should visualize my stories but in case anyone is confused about the visuals of the setting, I was inspired by the location of this picture but just with a railing. I hope you guys were able to clearly get what I was trying to explain with the location. I was feeling insecure that I wouldn't communicate it properly. Anyway, thanks for reading!