Chapter Text
It’s been exactly one week since Yuuji and Nobara had come up with Itadori Yuuji's Totally Foolproof Plan to Get Fushiguro Megumi to Fall in Love with Him. One might think that there would be some sort of big development or update, but, so far, it’s been radio silence. Nothing’s changed, and Yuuji is still stuck hopelessly pining after his best friend.
See, the thing is that somewhere along the way of trying to get Fushiguro to notice him, life just got kind of crazy.
Like, really crazy.
Some complicated curses here, an injury there, and, overall, literally no time to relax.
It’s frustrating. Yuuji is starting to feel like he’s going to explode if something doesn’t happen — constantly stuck between wanting to be close to Fushiguro and fighting for his damn life. Literally.
The good news, however, is that the three of them actually have tonight off. An early mission had sent them home to shower and relax, which meant that Yuuji got to pull Nobara aside and ask her to help him with step one of his plan.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t much help. She told him that if he really wanted to impress Fushiguro then he should make them something to eat. Yuuji’s pretty sure that she only said that because she’s tired and hungry and doesn’t feel like going to the cafeteria, but honestly…
It’s not a horrible idea.
That leaves him figuring out how to do everything.
Should he just… ask Fushiguro if he wants to have dinner together? No, that only comes off as an invitation. Then they’ll go to the cafeteria, and while that may be nice, it’s not necessarily special. It loses its personal touch.
He could also ask if Fushiguro wants to cook something together. Though, if he has to be honest, Yuuji’s heart nearly exploded when they tried to recreate Tsumiki’s cooking. He’s not sure if he can handle another moment like that. He’s barely had time to relax since getting back from the mission.
Maybe he should just tell Fushiguro he’ll cook something for him, then. Unless that’s too straightforward. Something like, “Let me cook for you.” Is that too house-husband? Is it casual? How does he make it sound casual?
Yuuji groans, fisting his hair in frustration and pulling at the short strands.
Kugisaki: hey. fushiguro just asked if we were going to have dinner together or not. are you going to do anything or just sit there and think yourself to death?
Yuuji’s panic begins to grow even more.
Yuuji: i’m trying to figure out how to ask him if he wants anything i don’t wanna be too straightforward or something what if it looks desperate??
Kugisaki: fucking hell. learn some punctuation, dumbass.
Kugisaki: listen, just say you’re making all of us dinner and ask him if he wants anything. if he’s all like “oh no! i don’t want to be an inconvenience!” then just throw me under the bus and say i asked you to make us something. okay?
Yuuji breathes out a sigh of relief and feels his shoulders drop.
Yuuji: you’re a fucking genius thank you
Kugisaki: i know.
Okay, so all he has to do is ask Fushiguro what he feels like having.
That should be easy. He lives right next door, and Yuuji can just pop in and ask him. He’s pretty sure Fushiguro is in there now, lying down and unwinding after their mission. It won’t be the first, nor the last time he’s ever waltzed in unannounced.
Or…
Too nervous to face him in person, he creates a group chat.
Kugisaki: really? a group chat? dumbass.
He ignores it in favor of sending a message.
Yuuji: hey! i’m planning to make a nice dinner for all of us since this past week has been so packed. any special requests?
Kugisaki: i’m not picky, make me whatever.
Kugisaki: if you give me any kind of pickled vegetables, you’re dead.
Fushiguro: I’m fine with anything you make. Thank you, Itadori.
Yuuji feels himself blush, and his heart does a little flutter knowing that Fushiguro likes his cooking enough to trust him with whatever he decides to make.
Cooking together isn’t anything new. He showed Fushiguro how to make those meatballs his grandfather had taught him how to make, and they had also recreated Fushiguro’s favorite childhood meal the other week.
But cooking for him?
Yuuji is going to have to step it up. He wants to impress him. He wants Fushiguro to like him.
Yuuji: okay! any requests for a side?
Yuuji: or anything you don’t like
Kugisaki: no.
Fushiguro: Red bell peppers, or just sweet sides in general.
Yuuji smiles at his phone and nods.
Perfect.
Going to the store will be a bit of a hassle, but he’s willing to do it in order to make sure that Fushiguro has the best meal of his life. Okay, maybe not his life, but he’s shooting for the stars… or whatever.
Sitting in the car, however, Yuuji can’t help but feel restless. He shifts awkwardly in his seat and twirls his thumbs around each other as he stares out the window, watching the world pass by in a blur. Meanwhile, Ijichi sits quietly in the driver’s seat, occasionally humming along to a song on the radio but otherwise remaining silent.
Yuuji tries to distract himself by brainstorming what he could make for dinner. He still hasn’t figured that part out, after all. The problem is that it’s really not that hard, and after just a few minutes of deliberation, he decides that a stew pot would be the easiest for multiple people. Doing that also allows him to make extra, and the second-years could help themselves to some food, too, if they wanted.
For the rest of the drive, he keeps his mind focused on that goal, itching to get out of the car the second it parks outside of a market. He practically races inside, promising Ijichi that he won’t be long, to which the latter replied with a simple nod and wave.
Inside, Yuuji gathers everything he needs. He knows that there’s still some rice back in the dorms, and he’s pretty sure that he can make a broth without buying anything new. The rest of the list consists of vegetables to go in the stew, some peppers and carrots that he plans to sweeten, beef to slow cook, and some seasonings to restock.
By the time he makes it back to the school, the entire plan is laid out.
He’ll prep the meat first, since it’ll take the longest, and focus on the sides and the broth afterwards. Ideally, Yuuji would have wanted a full day for a meal like this — the meat would be a lot more tender that way — but he can make do with just a few hours, as long as he’s diligent. As for the vegetables, the mushrooms, bok choy, and nori can go in the broth, but he wants to cook the peppers, onions, and carrots down in a semi-sweet glaze and serve them as a separate side dish from the rest of the meal.
He’s sure that Fushiguro will like it better like that.
In the kitchen, Yuuji is meticulous in his cooking, paying extra attention to the broth and the meat. Steam billows into the air, surrounding him with a savory smell as he cuts the vegetables up and adds them to the pot. He also drops a few extra slices of ginger, hoping that Kugisaki won’t mind, since he knows that Fushiguro is partial to it.
As he continues his work, Maki walks in, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and an apple from the counter.
“Hey, Itadori,” she says, leaning back on the counter. “What’s all this?”
“I’m making dinner for everyone,” he replies, stirring the broth. “Mostly for Kugisaki and Fushiguro, but there should be enough for the second-years, if you all want some.”
She hums, interested, and then gestures to the sliced carrots, onions, and bell peppers. “And this…?”
“Fushiguro texted me about those,” Yuuji explains. “I hope he likes them.”
“Megumi did?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh…”
Yuuji furrows his brows, confused, then turns to look at Maki. “What is it?”
“I just didn’t realize…” She presses her lips together, also seemingly confused, and shakes her head. “I don’t know. I could be wrong. Ignore me.”
And if Yuuji wasn’t so caught up in the whirlwind of preparing such a big meal by himself, he would have asked her what she meant.
Instead, he tells her, “Oh, okay, then.”
“Well, good luck,” Maki says, pushing herself off of the counter. “Let us know when we can come eat. It smells good.”
He smiles at her. “Thanks, Maki-san.”
She hums, exiting the kitchen.
Yuuji continues to focus on the rest of the meal. With everything in the pot simmering, he starts working on the other sides and tosses them into a pan, letting them cook down and caramelize over a low heat. It takes a while, but it’s worth it, and the kitchen smells great. There’s a mix of sweet and savory aromas in the air, and Yuuji can feel his mouth watering as he prepares the table.
“Hey, guys!” Yuuji beams, straightening himself when Fushiguro and Kugisaki walk in. He had sent them a text not too long ago that the food was ready, but he wanted to arrange it nicely, like in movies and television shows. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m positively starving,” Kugisaki says, practically falling into her seat. “It smells great in here, Itadori.”
Yuuji smiles wider, though his gaze drifts to Fushiguro, who’s just sat down and is now eyeing the food on the table. His stomach does a little flip, and he can feel nervousness begin to creep over his nerves as he thinks to himself, This is it. You need to wow him with your cooking.
“I know it’s a lot, but the second-years are going to join us soon, too,” he explains, gesturing vaguely to the food. “Still, help yourselves!”
He takes a seat next to Fushiguro and watches as his classmates begin to fill their bowls. Kugisaki is quick to grab different things, filling her bowl with a good amount of meat, vegetables, and broth. She also takes some of the rice and caramelized vegetables Yuuji made.
Fushiguro, however, only has some stew and rice.
And Yuuji’s heart drops.
Casting a quick glance to Kugisaki, he silently pleads with her to notice, but she only raises an eyebrow in response, unsure of what he’s upset about.
The vegetables! He didn’t take the vegetables!
Yuuji spent nearly an hour preparing them, and Fushiguro just… didn’t take any.
Trying his best to curb his hurt, he clears his throat and turns back to his food. “I can’t believe what a crazy week it’s been.”
Kugisaki groans. “I know! The fact that we had to work on our day off is just evil.”
“At least we have tonight,” Fushiguro chimes in. “And tomorrow, Gojo-sensei said that he’d end our lesson early if we do well enough.”
“That means pick it up, Itadori,” Kugisaki says, pointing her chopsticks at him.
“What?” he exclaims, sitting up. “I think you’re the one falling behind. I always beat you in hand-to-hand.”
“You beat everyone in hand-to-hand, Ita-dummy,” she quips, rolling her eyes.
From there, the conversation starts to flow much more naturally. The three of them talk about their mission and try to theorize what the school may have in store for them next. At the same time, Yuuji steals little glances at Fushiguro, trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It seems like he’s enjoying himself, content enough in eating the stew and rice, but he doesn’t touch the other vegetables Yuuji prepared.
It’s not like he’s super hurt over it.
Well, he is hurt.
But he’s not that hurt.
Eventually, the second-years come in to join them, too. They eat together and talk about anything and everything, squeezing around the common room table. Panda and Inumaki seem to be partial to the sweet vegetables, and Maki gives a compliment to Yuuji on his stew. It’s a good night overall, and by the time they finish their meal and begin to head back to their respective rooms, only Yuuji and Fushiguro remain.
They stand together over the sink, Yuuji washing and Fushiguro drying. It’s been quiet between them for the better part of the evening. Yuuji’s too nervous to say anything, and Fushiguro is… well, he’s Fushiguro.
Yuuji feels like he should try and make conversation, however, but all he can think about are those damn vegetables.
“Thank you for dinner, Itadori,” Fushiguro eventually says, breaking the silence.
Yuuji offers him a small, distracted smile. “It was no problem. Did you enjoy it?”
He hums in reply. “Yeah, it was fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Well, it was good,” Fushiguro corrects. “It was really good. I just… didn’t really care for the sides that you prepared. I’m sorry. I’m sure you worked really hard on them.”
And then it’s like a siren going off in Yuuji’s head, because what?
His eyes widen, and he turns to look at his friend. “Huh? You didn’t like them?”
Fushiguro shrugs in reply, blushing. He turns his head and begins to absentmindedly dry a plate. “I, uh, don’t really like sweet vegetables like that.”
Yuuji stares at him, slack-jawed, as embarrassment begins to settle deep within his stomach. Is he being serious?
He had thought that’s what Fushiguro requested. In fact, he knows that’s the case, because he was so set on impressing him that he made himself memorize the text. How could he have gotten it so wrong?
“But it’s not like it ruined the meal or anything,” Fushiguro adds. “It was all really good. And I enjoyed talking to you and eating with everyone. Besides, Inumaki and Panda-senpai really liked them, so it was good, right?”
But Yuuji still doesn’t really know what to say. It feels like the gears in his brain are only beginning to turn now, and he tries to think back to where he messed up. Fuck, when the hell did he mess up? Was it how he prepared them? Did they not go with the rest of the meal?
Fushiguro seems to take his silence for hurt and clears his throat, looking down. “Really, it was good. I mean it. It was a great meal. Thank you, Itadori.”
Yuuji blinks himself out of his stupor and says, “I just… I thought you said you wanted bell peppers, right? And sweet sides?”
Fushiguro shakes his head. “You asked what kind of foods I disliked, too, didn’t you? I gave you that. I didn’t have any special requests because I was fine with whatever you wanted to make for us.”
“But…”
Yuuji trails off, thinking back to the conversation.
He was in such a panic when he sent those text messages, they all kind of came out jumbled and all at once. When Fushiguro had replied with bell peppers and sweet sides, he took it at face value and assumed that’s what he was requesting, but in reality…
It was a simple mistake.
An easy one. A misunderstanding of the most basic degree.
And yet, Yuuji feels like his chest is caving in. He did all of this to try and impress Fushiguro, and he just wanted to do something nice. He wanted to show that he was capable and talented and—
Step One: Positive Association.
Great. He totally passed with flying colors.
Yuuji swallows, feeling his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Turning to his friend, he says, “I’m so sorry, Fushiguro.”
At that, Fushiguro chuckles and shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I should have been more clear. That’s on me.”
“I just… I didn’t realize that I sent those messages back to back, and I was trying so hard to make sure that you would enjoy this, and I wanted it to be good for you and Kugisaki because we’ve all been working so hard, and—”
Fushiguro stops him by raising his hand.
“Itadori, it was perfect,” he says, looking him in the eye. “It was better than anything I could have made or ordered or gotten from the cafeteria. Thank you.”
Yuuji presses his lips together and nods, ignoring the blush on his face.
“Besides, now you know for next time,” Fushiguro mumbles, turning away.
“Next time?”
“You know, if you want to.” Fushiguro’s face burns red. “And maybe I could help you? You know, to make sure that you don’t mess it up.”
“Oh.” Yuuji stares, dumbfounded.
He… didn’t royally fuck this all up?
And Fushiguro wants to cook with him?
“Oh!” He smiles. “Right, yeah, of course. You can absolutely do that.”
Fushiguro’s lips curl into a handsome smirk, and he bumps Yuuji with his shoulder. “Good.”
“Yeah…” Yuuji says, trailing off.
They finish cleaning the dishes and start to wipe down the counters. The tension has slowly faded between them, and Yuuji finds himself feeling much better knowing that he didn’t ruin Fushiguro’s dinner with his — frankly, idiotic —mistake. He’s sure Kugisaki will tease him about it endlessly, though, but for now, he savors his time with Fushiguro.
“Hey, Fushiguro,” he says, an idea slowly coming to mind.
Fushiguro hums.
“Want to make some cookies with me?”
“Itadori, we just cleaned this kitchen up.”
There’s no real annoyance in his voice, but Yuuji still giggles at the exasperation on his face.
“No, I know, but—” He chuckles. “I feel like I should make this up to you. Dinner, I mean. Plus, they’re really easy to make!”
“You don’t need to do anything to make it up to me except let me help you the next time you cook,” Fushiguro says, scowling in a way that makes Yuuji’s heart flutter.
“Well, help me now! I mean, we’re baking, not cooking, but still.” Yuuji turns to the pantry and starts to look for the flour. “My grandfather taught me how to make these, too. They’re really quick and easy. It’s so easy to make, even you can learn it.”
Fushiguro gives a plain grunt in reply, but he still walks up next to Yuuji and hovers by his shoulder.
Together, they start making the batter. Yuuji instructs Fushiguro to mix the dry ingredients while he mixes together the rest. Even though they have the entire kitchen to themselves, they stand side by side, and Yuuji laughs when Fushiguro turns to him, and he notices there’s batter on his cheek.
In response, Fushiguro scowls, so Yuuji reaches over and quickly brushes it off with his thumb. It’s a very brief moment, a quick contact of skin on skin, but his heart still races all the same. He can feel his hand burning, and a blush quickly spreads across his face as he turns back to the batter. Fushiguro doesn’t say anything about it either, his jaw tense and his gaze fixed on pouring the flour mixture into Yuuji’s bowl.
When it’s all mixed together, they work quickly to separate the batter and place the balls onto a pan. Fushiguro begins to clean up while Yuuji finishes the prep, and then the cookies are in the oven with a timer counting down.
“Here,” Fushiguro says, getting Yuuji’s attention.
He turns, only to be met with a spoon on his nose as Fushiguro smears batter across it.
“Hey!” Yuuji yelps, jumping back. “That’s cold.”
Laughing he wipes it away and snatches the spoon before he can be targeted again. Fushiguro’s lips spread into a small smile as they dance around each other, with Yuuji trying to get his revenge. Eventually, he gives up in favor of retrieving a clean spoon to scoop out some of the remaining batter from the bowl.
“I always loved cookie dough more than the cookies themselves,” Yuuji says, smiling. “My grandfather would have to scold me, telling me not to eat it because of the eggs.”
“Well, you shouldn’t eat raw egg,” Fushiguro points out.
“Yeah, but a little won’t hurt.” He turns, holding up the spoon. “Here. Try it.”
Fushiguro falters, staring at Yuuji as he holds it directly in front of his mouth.
It’s only then that he realizes how close they’re standing. Inches, maybe. He can feel Fushiguro’s warm breath fanning across his hand that holds the spoon, and he can count the golden flecks that speckle in his green eyes. There’s a tug in his chest, a desire to be closer. He wants to be closer. Does Fushiguro want that, too?
And he’s just standing there.
Spoon in hand, as if he expects Fushiguro to try it like some sort of couple in a shoujo manga.
“Um,” Yuuji says, his voice caught in his throat.
Then Fushiguro leans in, tasting some of the dough, and hums.
“It’s good,” he mumbles.
And Yuuji thinks his soul has left his damn body.
Fushiguro isn’t looking at him anymore, but his cheeks are flushed, and his ears are red. Yuuji certainly doesn’t look much different, feeling like he’s on fire with how much his face burns. He replays that scene back in his head. Over and over again. The way that Fushiguro had looked at him, leaned over, tried some of the batter from the spoon that Yuuji was holding — Yuuji could have a heart attack right now. He’s sure of it.
The silence is suddenly thundering. It’s heartbeats pounding in his ears, relentless and explosive. It’s thick, overwhelming tension, and it leaves Yuuji feeling like he’s fucking drowning.
The sudden beeping from the oven’s timer makes them both jump, and they scramble away from each other like they’ve just been caught.
“I’ll—” Yuuji clears his throat. “I’ll get them.”
He moves robotically, grabbing an oven mitt and retrieving the cookies. Heat blasts him in the face, making him feel worse, though he’s grateful for the excuse of his burning cheeks. Maybe it was all in his head, and Fushiguro only did that out of convenience.
Unless…
Yuuji swallows and places the pan on the stove.
“Okay, so they need to cool,” he says. “It’ll be a bit. About ten minutes.”
Fushiguro nods, seemingly back to normal.
He talks to Yuuji like nothing happened as the two carry a casual conversation, waiting for the cookies to cool off. They don’t mention the… spoon thing, and Yuuji’s heart does a million backflips every time he thinks about it. Instead, he listens to Fushiguro talk about a new book he picked up, trying his best to remain normal.
When the cookies are done, they each try one.
It’s been a while since he’s made this recipe, so Yuuji is glad that they came out the way they were meant to. He watches as Fushiguro takes a bite of one, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he savors the taste, and Yuuji’s pretty sure that he could melt from that reaction alone. They both grab a second and start to box up the rest of the batch, leaving a note for the other students and staff at the school.
By now, it’s late. Much later than Yuuji meant to be up. He and Fushiguro walk together back to their dorms, content in the comfortable silence. There’s so much on his mind, but if Yuuji tries to say something now, he’s pretty sure that he won’t stop. It’s been a long day and an even longer week, so instead he smiles at Fushiguro when they reach his door and tells him goodnight, the latter nodding and replying with the same.
Back in his room, Yuuji breaks out into a full, toothy smile.
There’s still so much that he needs to do — shower, toss his clothes into the laundry, and finish the rest of his nighttime routine — but he’s not even a little bit tired. It feels like he could run a marathon, and despite all of the frustrations of earlier, he’s left with something better. Something warmer and sweeter.
Something like ginger cookies.
His phone pings, grabbing his attention, and he finds a text from Kugisaki.
Kugisaki: everything good? was step one a success?
Yuuji thinks it over, remembering all of the meal prep and the rush to the store. He thinks about his panic as he made everything, wanting it to be absolutely perfect, only to realize that he had fucked it all up. Majorly. If the embarrassment didn’t kill him, then the feeling that washed over him when he realized Fushiguro wasn’t touching any of those vegetables definitely would have.
But then it was all okay.
He and Fushiguro cleaned the kitchen together, and then they baked together. There was the batter smearing, the bumping of shoulders, and Fushiguro even trying some of the dough off of a spoon from Yuuji’s hand. That little moment where Yuuji swears he felt a zip of electricity.
He smiles.
Yuuji: step one was perfect