Chapter Text
“I love you so much, sweetie.”
His mother’s voice trembled through her sobs as she cradled his face between her hands, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of his head. She tried to smile through the tears streaming down her cheeks, her words barely more than a shaky whisper, as though speaking any louder might shatter what little composure she had left.
Yuji tilted his head up to look at her, his tiny hands barely big enough to wrap around two of her fingers. His brows furrowed as he sniffled, his eyes growing glassy at the sight of his mother crying.
“Don’t go, Mom!”
A large hand ruffled his hair.
The familiar warmth of calloused fingers brought him a little comfort. His father stood behind his glasses with a gentle smile, his other hand resting firmly on his mother’s shoulder as she leaned against him, quietly sobbing in the doorway.
It was raining. It was dark.
And it was so, so late.
Why did they have to go anywhere now? And why did he have to stay at Grandpa’s?
“Be good for Grandpa, Yuji. Okay?”
His father remained composed, as he always did. Somehow, that made things a little easier. Even though Yuji had no idea what was happening, his father’s calm voice was something he could hold on to, something that made the strange, uneasy feeling in his chest seem a little less frightening.
All he knew was that his parents had said they would be gone for a while, and he didn’t like it when they left. Not even when Grandpa was there to keep him entertained or bore him to sleep with his endless stories.
Yuji sniffled again, shuffling on his stubby little feet as he clutched the hem of his shirt. For a moment, he stared down at the old, creaking floorboards beneath him, watching the warm lamplight spill across the wood and pool around his toes. Then, slowly, he lifted his head and met his father’s reassuring gaze.
“Okay…”
The word came out small and uncertain, barely audible beneath the steady patter of rain outside. But beneath the hesitation was something stronger, something that mattered far more to Yuji than understanding why his parents had to leave.
He wanted to be good.
He wanted them to be proud of him.
And if being good meant staying behind without crying, then he would do his best.
He wouldn’t let them down.
Not now. Not ever.
Even if he didn’t understand where they were going.
Even if he didn’t know when they would come back.
.
Nobara’s hand dove into her purse, rummaging through its contents as various items clattered against one another. Her face was twisted into a permanent scowl, courtesy of yet another argument the two of them had somehow managed to get themselves into.
“Fine! Then what’s this?”
She triumphantly pulled out what looked like—
“A sponge—”
Yuji answered without a second thought, shrugging as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Seriously, what was her point? Was this supposed to be some sort of trick question?
“It’s a fucking beauty blender! Oh my God!”
Nobara hurled it at his head with absolutely no remorse.
The pink, glittering abomination sailed dramatically through the air, almost in slow motion, before smacking him squarely in the eye.
“Ow! Okay! Okay—jeez!”
The offending object dropped into his lap, landing with a pathetic little thud. Yuji rubbed at his now-sore eye, frowning in disbelief, but received absolutely no sympathy from Nobara. If anything, she looked rather pleased with herself, wearing the smug expression of someone who had just imparted a valuable life lesson to an exceptionally stupid child.
“Nobara! No throwing things in class! And, for God’s sake, lower your voice!”
The professor’s exasperated voice rang out from the front of the room.
Half the class had already twisted around in their seats to witness the poor soul who’d earned Nobara Kugisaki’s wrath, only to whip back around and stare very intently at the board the moment they realised who it was.
People in this class learned pretty quickly not to piss her off.
She was a bitch. That was the general consensus, anyway.
Nobara scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard they threatened to disappear into the back of her skull. She shoved her beauty blender back into her purse before slamming the whole thing against the cold metal leg of her chair, muttering something about how this was bullshit under her breath.
Yuji couldn’t help it.
A quiet snicker slipped past his lips.
Nobara’s head snapped towards him.
The glare she shot him was sharp enough to cut diamonds.
He immediately zipped his mouth shut.
Not another sound.
“And make sure you’ve completed pages 180 to 200 before next week. Have a great weekend!”
The moment those words left the professor’s mouth, the entire class sprang into action.
Everyone scrambled to their feet without wasting so much as a millisecond, as though they’d finally been released from their prison sentences. Chairs screeched painfully against the floor, bags were hastily slung over shoulders, and students flooded towards the door in a chaotic stampede, shoving past one another as if they had precisely sixty seconds to escape the building.
Yuji waited until the worst of the crowd had passed.
He’d already been assaulted by a beauty blender today. He wasn’t about to risk being trampled, too.
Stepping out into the hallway, which was already clearing out faster than he could blink, Yuji turned around, only to nearly walk straight into Nobara, who had somehow appeared right behind him.
“Woah!”
“I gotta thank you, even though it pains me to do so.”
Yuji blinked.
Huh?
“What are you even on about?”
He raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused. There was always something going on inside Nobara’s head that the rest of the world simply wasn’t equipped to comprehend, let alone keep up with. She claimed it was because she was superior to everyone else, but Yuji was pretty sure it had more to do with her being self-absorbed and having the attention span of a goldfish.
At least, that was his very humble opinion.
Nobara merely huffed, as though the conversation itself were an inconvenience and explaining herself would somehow make it worse.
“Maki? The whole fight with Sukuna on Monday?”
Ohhh!
Oh, right!
Wait.
Why the hell was she thanking him for that?
“Right… and you’re thanking me for that why?”
Nobara stared at him.
And stared.
And stared.
She remained completely silent, maintaining eye contact with a deadpan expression that somehow managed to make Yuji feel increasingly self-conscious with every passing second. He swallowed nervously, beginning to wonder if he’d missed something obvious. The longer the silence dragged on, the more he regretted opening his mouth in the first place.
Then, finally, Nobara spoke.
“You broke the ice for me! Duh!”
She threw her hands up as if the answer should have been painfully obvious.
“After that pathetic stunt, she actually spoke to me! Oh, man…” Her expression softened into something almost dreamlike, and she sighed, flicking her hair away from her face with a theatrical flourish. “It was like I was in a dream I never wanted to wake up from!”
Yuji physically cringed.
He swallowed the urge to comment, however, because he valued his life. Or at least his physical well-being.
“Oh… yeah?” he ventured cautiously. “What did she say to you? Did she ask you out?”
Nobara’s hands fell to her sides.
Her smile vanished.
She turned her gaze towards the far end of the hallway, staring blankly into the distance as though she’d just witnessed the collapse of every dream she’d ever had.
Yuji paused.
…Had he hit a nerve?
His grandpa had always told him he was terrible at reading people, and judging by the way Nobara had suddenly gone from lovestruck to emotionally deceased, he was beginning to think the old man might have had a point.
“She, uh…” Nobara mumbled.
A pause.
“She told me her name.”
Yuji stared at her.
For one beautiful, fleeting second, he tried to hold it in.
He really did.
Then he burst out laughing.
Nobara’s head whipped towards him so violently that her bob swung over her shoulder. Before Yuji could even attempt to defend himself, her hand came flying down, smacking him squarely on the shoulder.
“Ow!”
Another slap.
“Okay! Sorry! Sorry!” Yuji wheezed between laughs, stumbling away from her swinging hand. “It’s just— I thought you meant you actually talked! You already knew her name anyway—”
SMACK.
“Ow! I didn’t even do anything!”
“SHUT UP!”
Nobara spat the words at him before spinning on her heel and storming down the now-empty hallway towards the exit, her purse bouncing angrily against her side.
Yuji stood there, rubbing his abused shoulder as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the doors.
Silence.
He blinked.
Then sighed.
Why was he friends with her again?
Honestly. He deserved financial compensation for the amount of physical and emotional damage he endured on a daily basis.
Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
The sudden vibration jolted him out of his thoughts. He fished the device out, glancing at the familiar home screen just as a notification appeared.
Choso.
Yuji’s expression softened almost immediately.
Choso was his older brother.
Well… not by blood.
It was a little complicated, if he were being honest.
His grandpa had recently fallen ill, though the stubborn old man refused to acknowledge it. He still insisted on shuffling around the house, running errands he had no business running and somehow finding enough energy to yell at Yuji whenever the opportunity presented itself. Cranky and persistent as ever, he seemed determined to prove that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.
Choso, who had originally been their neighbour, had always been a constant presence throughout Yuji’s childhood. He’d looked after him countless times when his grandpa was busy, keeping an eye on him and making sure he never got into too much trouble.
Not that it had always worked.
But somewhere along the way, Choso had become more than just the nice neighbour who occasionally watched over him. He’d become someone Yuji could depend on. Someone who was there when he needed him, who worried about him, who made sure he was taken care of even when Yuji himself hadn’t realised he needed looking after.
So when his grandpa fell ill, Choso stepped in without hesitation.
He moved into their house to help take care of the old man while Yuji was at school, insisting that Yuji continue his studies rather than stay home to help. His grandpa had protested, of course. He’d grumbled and complained and insisted he could manage perfectly well on his own.
Choso hadn’t budged.
And, eventually, neither had Yuji.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, the distinction between neighbour and family had quietly disappeared.
Choso had always felt like a brother to him, really. It was just that having him move in had made Yuji realise how deeply that bond had taken root.
He couldn’t imagine his life without him now.
Yuji might not have his parents around. He might barely remember them at all, save for the vague impressions and scattered fragments that had lingered from his earliest years.
But that was okay.
Because he had Grandpa.
He had Choso.
He had people waiting for him at home.
And, in his own way, he had a family.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the notification on his phone.
He loved them.
He really, really did.
Yuji’s thumbs flew across the keyboard as he replied to Choso’s messages about coming home. He could practically feel the worry radiating through the screen.
Chosooo -_-
Head home please.
Me
I’ll be there soon!! :D
Satisfied, Yuji closed the chat and navigated straight to his playlist. He slipped his headphones over his ears and made his way out of the building, adjusting the strap of his bag where it hung loosely over his shoulder.
He should probably get a move on before Choso decided to send out a whole damn search party.
.
“I’m home!”
The front door creaked shut behind him.
They didn’t live in some five-star apartment or anything fancy. It was a shitty house in a shitty neighbourhood, with creaky floorboards and more problems than Yuji cared to count.
But whatever it was, it was home.
“Quiet down, will ya, kid?”
Wasuke’s cranky voice drifted from the living room.
Yuji kicked off his battered sneakers, sending them flying somewhere near the entrance, before shrugging off his bag and letting it slide down the wall beside the door.
“Hey, Grandpa!”
He called out cheerfully, completely ignoring the older man’s request. He knew there was no real malice behind the grumbling. Wasuke complained about just about everything these days. It was practically a hobby.
Choso was already making his way down the stairs, looking like death itself, as usual. Without so much as a word, he bent down to retrieve Yuji’s abandoned sneakers, placing them neatly side by side against the wall beside his bag.
“How was school?”
Yuji’s face immediately lit up.
“It was pretty good! Well—as good as school can get.”
He flashed Choso his usual bright smile before following him into the living room. Wasuke grumbled something about how it was “getting too crowded in here now,” but neither of them paid him any attention.
Yuji promptly flopped onto the couch beside his grandfather, earning an irritated grunt from the old man. Still, Wasuke made no move to shove him off or reclaim the space for himself.
He wasn’t exactly the affectionate type. Never had been.
But Yuji knew better than to mistake his grandfather’s constant grumbling for a lack of love. No matter how much Wasuke tried to hide it, he loved them both. He just had a rather unconventional way of showing it.
Choso, meanwhile, frowned at Yuji’s answer before letting out a weary sigh.
He didn’t bother pressing for more details.
Honestly, what was it with people asking how school went, only to receive the most painfully vague answer imaginable? It was good. It was fine. Nothing happened.
Was there a scientific explanation for why nobody ever elaborated?
“Did you get my message about the basement flooding again?”
Choso’s voice gradually grew more distant as he wandered into the kitchen, where a rack of freshly dried dishes sat beside the sink. He began putting them away, the clatter of plates and cutlery filling the otherwise quiet house.
Yuji raised an eyebrow, straightening up against the couch.
“What? No? Again?”
His sudden movement made Wasuke shift uncomfortably beside him. The old man scoffed, clearly displeased at having his peace disturbed, and promptly turned up the television with the remote in a rather pointed attempt to tell everyone to shut the hell up.
“Yes, again,” Choso called back from the kitchen. “A few things got damaged, so we had to clear some stuff out. Go see for yourself.”
Yuji glanced at his grandfather, who was now pretending to be deeply invested in whatever was playing on television, before pushing himself to his feet.
“Okay!”
He stretched his arms above his head, joints popping quietly, then wandered towards the basement door tucked between the kitchen and living room.
Choso was already there, pulling off his socks before stepping inside.
Yuji didn’t question it. He simply kicked off his own socks and left them by the doorway before following his brother down the stairs.
The smell hit him almost immediately.
Damp. Musty. Unpleasantly stale.
Yuji wrinkled his nose as they descended, the wooden steps creaking beneath their feet. By the time they reached the bottom, he could see the extent of the damage for himself.
Water still covered the basement floor, reaching up to their ankles and rippling around their feet with every movement. Apparently, they hadn’t managed to get rid of all of it during the clear-out.
Lovely.
Yuji clapped a hand over his nose, his face twisting in disgust as the smell grew even worse now that they were standing right in the middle of it.
“Yikes! How are you not grossed out?”
He turned towards Choso, who was smiling faintly at his reaction.
“Because when you’ve spent all day down here, you get used to it.”
“That’s actually disgusting.”
Yuji shook his head, laughing under his breath, before turning his attention to the boxes stacked along a shelf. Choso must have moved them there earlier to keep them from getting soaked. He was already reaching for a couple, lifting them carefully out of harm’s way.
Yuji stepped closer to help, stretching onto his toes to grab a few boxes of his own.
And then he stopped.
Just for a second.
Because something caught his eye.
A bag.
It sat tucked behind the boxes, partially obscured by the shadows and coated in a fine layer of dust. There was something strange about it, something inexplicably familiar that sent a prickling sensation crawling up the back of Yuji’s neck.
He’d seen it before.
Hadn’t he?
His brows knitted together as he reached for the strap, stretching awkwardly to get a proper grip. His fingers caught the leather, and with a sharp tug, he managed to pull the bag free from its hiding place.
Dust drifted into the air.
Yuji coughed, waving it away before cradling the bag in both hands.
The leather felt old beneath his fingertips, worn smooth in some places and stiff in others. He brushed away the dust, turning it over slowly, examining its shape as though the answer might reveal itself if he looked hard enough.
Then he saw the initials.
J.I.
Embroidered into the leather in an elegant, almost extravagantly fancy font.
Yuji went still.
His father’s initials.
His heart gave a strange little thump.
Why was his father’s bag down here?
And how had he never seen it before?
He stared at the lettering, his thumb tracing the embroidered edges. A faint, unfamiliar feeling stirred somewhere deep in his chest, something caught between recognition and confusion. He couldn’t quite explain it. He only knew that the bag felt important.
Important enough that it shouldn’t have been sitting forgotten in a damp basement.
Slowly, Yuji turned his head towards the staircase.
The doorway at the top remained empty. No footsteps. No voices calling down to ask what was taking so long.
Choso was still occupied with the boxes, his back turned.
Nobody was looking.
Yuji glanced down at the bag again.
Then back towards the stairs.
Good.
He shouldn’t be doing this.
Wait—why shouldn’t he?
Yes, he should. Of course he should!
Right?
Right.
He was overthinking it.
Definitely overthinking it.
Yuji took a deep breath before carefully unzipping the bag, peering inside with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, only to be met with…
Nothing.
He paused.
No.
No?
No, that couldn’t be right—
He picked up the bag properly this time, bringing it closer to his face as he pulled the opening wider, searching every corner with growing desperation.
Still nothing.
The bag was completely empty.
Well, that was a waste of time.
And here he’d thought he might have finally stumbled across something—anything—that could tell him more about his parents.
Whenever he asked his grandpa about them, Wasuke shut him down almost immediately, dodging the subject like the plague. It had been that way for as long as Yuji could remember, from when he was a little kid until now. Eventually, he’d stopped asking altogether. There was no point in trying to get answers from someone who clearly had no intention of giving them.
He’d learned to live with it.
Or, at least, he’d learned to pretend he had.
So when he’d found the bag, something inside him had stirred. A tiny, foolish flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found something that could help him understand who his parents had been.
But now, with nothing to show for it, that hope had been snuffed out almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Yuji stared down into the empty bag.
How did he know so little about his own parents?
He sighed, shoulders slumping as he gave up his search. After placing the bag on top of one of the boxes, he hoisted it into his arms and made his way upstairs. He flicked off the basement light with his elbow on the way out, nudged the door shut behind him with his foot, and carried the box over to the kitchen table, where the others had been stacked.
He set it down with a quiet thud.
Then his gaze drifted back to the bag resting on top of the pile.
His brows furrowed.
He stared at it intently, almost expecting something to magically appear inside if he looked hard enough.
Nothing happened.
Shocking.
“You okay?”
Yuji nearly jumped out of his skin.
He turned to find Choso standing behind him, one eyebrow raised as he studied his face. There was a faint crease between his brows, the unmistakable look of someone who’d noticed that something was off.
Yuji couldn’t really blame him.
It wasn’t like him to get so lost in his own head. Usually, he was too busy talking, laughing, or finding some new way to annoy Nobara to spend this much time brooding over anything.
But this—
This frustrated him.
It wasn’t just the empty bag. It was the fact that he had so many questions about his own life and absolutely nowhere to turn for answers.
Yuji forced a small smile.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”
Choso continued to look at him for a moment, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes lingered on Yuji’s face as though he were trying to work out whether to press him for an explanation.
Eventually, he sighed and shrugged.
“Alright. Just let me know if you need anything.”
And with that, he turned and left the kitchen.
Yuji watched him go, releasing a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding.
Then, slowly, his gaze drifted back to the bag.
His expression changed.
No.
He wasn’t giving up that easily.
He was going to get answers.
One way or another.
.
Shortly afterwards, Yuji retreated to his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.
He shoved his desk chair against it for good measure, just in case anyone got the bright idea of barging in, before dropping to his knees and sliding the supposedly empty bag onto the floor in front of him.
For a long while, he did nothing.
He simply stared at it.
The silence stretched on as he contemplated the questionable decisions that had led him to kneel on his bedroom floor like some kind of detective in a low-budget crime drama, preparing to investigate an old leather bag.
What the hell was he doing?
He blinked.
Right.
Answers.
He needed answers.
Yuji snatched the bag up again and began inspecting it for a second time, determined not to miss anything. He checked the initials, ran his fingers along the lining, and unzipped every pocket and compartment he could find.
Nothing.
Not a single scrap of paper. Not a receipt. Not even a photograph.
Just an old, empty bag.
“Are you kidding me?”
He let out an exasperated huff before tossing it onto the floor.
Rattle.
Yuji froze.
…What?
Slowly, he turned his head towards the bag.
Something had just made a noise.
A small, unmistakable rattle.
His eyes narrowed.
That couldn’t be right.
The bag was empty.
He’d checked everything. Every pocket, every zipper, every inch of the damn thing.
So what the hell had made that sound?
Yuji leaned forward, snatching the bag off the floor and settling it in his lap. He shook it once, listening carefully.
Nothing.
He frowned.
Then, on a whim, he began running his fingers along the leather spine at the back of the bag, tracing the seams with slow, deliberate movements.
And then—
There.
A small bump beneath the lining.
Yuji paused, pressing his fingertip against it.
“Huh…”
He tilted the bag towards the light, examining the spot more closely. The stitching looked slightly different there, almost imperceptibly so. Had it always been like that?
Curiosity getting the better of him, he slipped his fingers beneath the edge of the leather and gently pulled.
The material gave way.
A narrow flap opened, revealing a hidden compartment tucked neatly into the back of the bag.
Yuji stared.
Then stared some more.
What the hell?
Why on earth would his father have a hidden compartment in his bag?
His heart began to beat a little faster.
Whatever the reason, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be another dead end.
Carefully, almost reverently, Yuji opened the compartment wider and reached inside, drawing out everything it contained.
A file.
A handful of old notepads filled with messy scribbles, equations, and what appeared to be various logs.
And—
A packet of ancient-looking mints.
Yuji stared at the mints.
Seriously?
He’d hidden a secret compartment in his bag, and he’d used it to store mints?
What kind of person—
He stopped himself.
No. Focus.
The mints could wait.
With trembling fingers and a growing sense of anticipation, Yuji set them aside and turned his attention to the file.
For the first time since discovering the bag, he felt as though he might actually be getting somewhere.
Whatever his father had left behind, Yuji was determined to find out.
Even if he had to turn his entire room upside down to do it.
After going through the notebooks—which made absolutely no sense to Yuji, especially with how shitty his father’s handwriting was—he came up empty-handed.
His eyes drifted past the crusty mints and landed on…
The file.
It was brown and stained around the edges, but otherwise pristine. White papers peeked out from inside, almost as if the file were trying to look less important than it actually was.
Yuji took a deep breath, gathering the courage to open it.
Inside were data logs of some sort of experiment.
He knew his father had been a scientist, sure, but this?
This was something else entirely.
The way the file had been hidden, tucked away in a secret compartment as though it contained confidential information—something dangerous, something far more important than a few sheets of paper—sent an uneasy feeling crawling down his spine.
Yuji leaned closer, squinting at the writing in the top corner of the first page.
Jujutsu Tech.
The science corporation his father had worked for, presumably.
And judging by the state of the file, this was only the tip of the iceberg.
What were all these calculations? What kind of experiments had his father been conducting? Why had his parents left so suddenly, without a single explanation? And why did his grandpa refuse to tell him anything about them? Not where they’d gone, not what they’d been doing, not even anything about who they were before Yuji came along.
So many questions.
And not a single person willing to give him an answer.
Eventually, Yuji accepted that he was probably going to die at the ripe old age of seventeen, surrounded by incomprehensible equations and his father’s atrocious handwriting. With a defeated sigh, he decided to call it a day and pack everything away.
Still, this was probably the most information he’d ever managed to find about his dad. Even if, at the moment, he understood approximately none of it.
He tucked the file and notepads back into the secret compartment.
And the mints.
Because, well… they were there.
With everything safely hidden away, Yuji slid the bag beneath his bed, then stood with a yawn and a stretch. He wandered over to his computer and dropped into his chair, which he’d dragged away from the door now that he was finished with his very legal and completely normal investigation.
Right.
Time to do some research.
Yuji clicked on the search bar and typed:
Jujutsu Tech.
A few links appeared.
He blinked at the screen.
Then he groaned, letting his forehead fall against the desk with a pathetic thunk.
That was it?
A few links?
He’d spent the better part of his evening digging through his father’s suspiciously hidden belongings, and all he had to show for it was a mysterious file, a bunch of equations, and a company website that apparently couldn’t be bothered to explain itself.
This was exhausting.
But if he wanted answers, this was the only way he was going to get them.
Come on, Yuji.
He lifted his head and got back to work.
.
Hours passed, and he found next to nothing.
Apparently, his father had worked at a scientific corporation called Jujutsu Tech as a head scientist, overseeing all sorts of experiments and projects. Beyond that, information was scarce. The deeper Yuji dug, the more he ran into vague descriptions, dead ends, and pages that told him absolutely nothing useful.
Even the dark web turned up nothing.
Yuji leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the screen.
Was that it?
All that effort for nothing?
He glanced toward the bed, where the bag was hidden just out of sight.
Unless…
.
“Jujutsu Tech?”
Choso raised an eyebrow suspiciously, one hand gripping the handle of the frying pan as an egg sizzled on its surface. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the kitchen, while the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm, cosy glow over the room.
“Yep! I wanted to go there for a project. Get some information for my bio classes. Plus, I’m not really doing anything this weekend, right?”
Yuji shrugged, sneaking a glance at Choso from the corner of his eye.
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes—
“Just let the kid go.”
Wasuke’s voice called out from the living room, where the television was already playing the morning news and weather forecast in its usual monotone, painfully boring voice.
Choso turned to look at Wasuke, who was lounging on the couch, with the most deadpan expression imaginable. He let out a long sigh, bringing his free hand up to rub his temple.
“Okay… okay! Fine. You can go, but don’t be out too long, or I’m blowing up your phone.”
Yuji couldn’t hold back his grin any longer. His dimples appeared as he practically launched himself at Choso, throwing his arms over his shoulders and nearly making him lose his grip on the frying pan.
“Yes! Thank you! I won’t be late, promise!”
“Yuji, the eggs—”
“BYE, CHOSO!”
Yuji didn’t even bother processing whatever else Choso was trying to say. He was already dashing toward the front door, practically flying past the couch where his grandpa sat watching his grandson’s suspiciously enthusiastic escape through the reflection of the television screen.
“Ah… okay.”
Choso sighed helplessly as the front door slammed shut.
Sometimes, he worried about that kid.
“Gets it from his father,” Wasuke grumbled.
Choso smiled faintly before turning back to the stove.
.
Yuji was already sprinting down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a woman and her dog. He nearly tackled them both, almost face-planted straight into the concrete, and somehow managed to twist himself sideways at the last second.
The woman shouted something rather colourful after him.
“Sorry!” Yuji called over his shoulder, barely slowing down.
He couldn’t afford to waste time.
This was his one chance to get some sort of closure.
He couldn’t miss it.
After what felt like an eternity—and approximately five different buses—Yuji finally made it across town to Jujutsu Tech.
By the time he stumbled off the last bus, he was exhausted, dishevelled, and pretty sure he’d caught at least three different diseases from the very sick child who’d spent the journey coughing and sneezing beside him.
Lovely. Absolutely lovely.
He exhaled heavily, taking a moment to recover as the hustle and bustle of city life surrounded him.
Living in a quieter neighbourhood meant he wasn’t exactly used to this much noise and activity. Seeing Tokyo in all its urban glory on a Saturday morning was… overwhelming, to say the least.
Cars rushed past, pedestrians streamed along the pavements, and buildings stretched high into the sky, crowded together as if competing to see which one could scrape the clouds first.
Yuji’s eyes wandered over the towering structures until they landed on one in particular.
And then he stopped.
Holy shit.
The building was enormous.
Glass windows covered almost its entire surface, reflecting the morning sunlight, while large lettering spelling out JUJUTSU TECH stretched across the front. Yuji had to crane his neck so far back that he was half-convinced he’d strain something just trying to see the top.
The thing was practically a damn skyscraper.
Then again, considering he was standing in central Tokyo, maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised.
Yuji stared up at the building, his stomach twisting with a strange mixture of anticipation and nerves.
Somewhere inside that place were the answers he’d been looking for.
Or, at the very least, a few more questions.
He swallowed, squared his shoulders, and started toward the entrance.
.
The inside was MASSIVE.
The lobby alone was enough to make Yuji feel like he’d accidentally wandered into another dimension. Billboards advertising the latest technological advancements lined the walls, showcasing all sorts of futuristic gadgets and inventions that looked like they’d been ripped straight out of a sci-fi movie.
Meanwhile, people in lab coats hurried through the building, their eyes glued to the tablets and books in their hands. They weaved around one another at alarming speeds, barely sparing a glance for anyone in their path, as if they were simultaneously busy with everything and absolutely nothing.
It was kind of incredible, actually.
Yuji felt a weird sense of excitement bubbling in his chest. All this technology, all these scientists, all these things he couldn’t even begin to understand…
His dad had worked here.
Holy shit.
Then his eyes landed on reception.
And reality came crashing down on him.
Oh.
Oh, no.
He was just some absolute rando who’d walked into a multibillion-dollar corporation without an appointment, didn’t work here, had never set foot in the building before, and had absolutely no legitimate reason to be here beyond wanting to illegally dig up information about his missing parents.
Oh.
Yuji glanced around frantically, silently begging the universe to throw him a bone. A sign. A distraction. A conveniently timed fire alarm, perhaps.
Anything.
But the universe, apparently, had better things to do.
With all the confidence of a man walking toward his own execution, Yuji forced himself to take one step at a time toward the receptionist sitting behind an enormous desk.
He swallowed.
Deep breath.
You’ve got this, Yuji.
You are a normal person doing normal things for normal reasons.
“Ah—excuse me.”
His voice came out considerably more pathetic than he’d intended.
Yuji immediately wanted to crawl into a hole and never emerge again, but before he could cringe himself into another dimension, the receptionist looked up with a bright smile.
“Ah! You must be one of the interns, correct? Take your keycard with your name on it. The tour started a little while ago.”
Yuji froze.
His mouth hung open, whatever half-baked excuse he’d been preparing dying a miserable death on his tongue.
An intern?
He was being mistaken for an intern?
Oh, thank GOD.
Yuji cleared his throat, plastered on the most normal smile he could manage, and nodded.
“Aha! Right… yeah. Thank you!”
Wow.
Smooth.
Absolutely flawless. Give the man an Oscar.
His gaze dropped to the desk, where a neat row of keycards lay waiting to be collected. Each one had a name printed on it, all belonging to various people he’d never met in his life.
And, of course, his own name wasn’t fucking there.
Because he wasn’t a fucking intern.
Okay. Okay. Think, Yuji.
His eyes darted across the cards.
Alejandro Fernandez.
…
Sounds good to him.
Sorry, Alejandro.
Yuji snatched the card, slipped it around his neck, and flashed the receptionist one last smile before hurrying away. He made a beeline for the stairs, narrowly dodging several lab-coated scientists who swept past him at speeds that suggested they were either late for something important or actively being hunted.
Possibly both.
It took a fair amount of wandering—and one particularly confusing corridor that seemed to lead absolutely nowhere—but eventually, Yuji found a group of people gathered around a tour guide.
Presumably, this was where Alejandro Fernandez was supposed to be.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Honestly, he had no fucking clue.
Yuji slipped into the back of the group, trying his best to look like he belonged there. Nobody seemed to pay him much attention, which he took as a good sign.
The tour guide continued explaining something about the building’s research departments, but Yuji quickly lost track of what was being said. Not because he wasn’t interested in science, necessarily, but because half the terminology sounded like someone had put a bunch of complicated words into a blender and pressed purée.
Besides, he had more important things to worry about.
Like figuring out how to sneak away without looking suspicious.
Or getting caught.
Or being arrested.
Or having to explain to his grandpa why he’d been detained at a science corporation before he’d even finished his breakfast.
Yeah. Choso was definitely going to blow up his phone.
For now, though, Yuji just needed a moment to breathe.
Maybe pretending to be an intern for a little while wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Right?
“And that’s how we use nanotechnology to enhance our intelligence to this day. Any questions?”
The group fell silent.
A few people glanced at one another before shaking their heads, seemingly content to accept that whatever they’d just heard was, in fact, a thing that existed.
The tour guide nodded and prepared to lead them onward.
That was when a man wearing a staff badge approached him, leaning in to whisper something into his ear.
The guide’s expression shifted slightly.
“Oh! Well, it seems I have to attend to something rather urgently. Not to worry, though! My colleague will be taking over the rest of the tour and answering any questions you may have.”
Yuji barely paid attention.
He was too busy mentally planning his escape.
He could probably slip away while everyone was distracted. Maybe find a staircase, locate the research department, and—
“Megumi will take you guys the rest of the way.”
Yuji froze.
…
What?
No.
No fucking way.
Megumi?
As in Megumi Megumi?
As in the Megumi he knew?
The Megumi he absolutely, positively, one hundred percent was NOT supposed to run into here?
Yuji’s brain promptly blue-screened.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
He couldn’t see him here.
He wasn’t supposed to be here!
Except—
Wait.
He was going to see Megumi again.
A tiny, traitorous part of him lit up at the thought, excitement bubbling beneath the sudden wave of panic.
He gets to see Megumi again.
…
Oh, fuck.
Because seeing Megumi again also meant explaining why he was here.
Why he was wearing a stolen—borrowed—intern keycard.
Why he’d lied to reception.
And why he was currently standing in the middle of a tour group at a corporation he had absolutely no business being in.
Oh, SHIT.
Yuji stared straight ahead, every muscle in his body suddenly locked in place.
There was no way out of this.
He was so, so screwed.
.
Megumi had been informed that he’d have to take over a tour for a group of interns.
While he was busy at his computer analysing data from a recent cross-species genetics experiment.
Oh, great.
Sounds like a fucking blast.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen for another moment before reluctantly saving his work. He’d barely made any progress, and now he had to play tour guide for a bunch of people who probably wouldn’t remember a single thing he told them.
Fantastic.
With a heavy sigh, Megumi got up and made his way through the building, weaving between people who were either rushing around like their lives depended on it or strolling along as though they had nowhere to be. He turned a few corners, climbed a flight of stairs, and finally pushed open the door to the department where the tour group was waiting.
Or, more accurately, where the tour guide was currently talking at them.
Megumi sighed again before approaching the group.
“If you’ve all seen this department, we can move on to electrical engineering—”
His eyes swept across the crowd, taking in a sea of boring, bland faces that all seemed to blend into one another.
He knew he sounded unenthusiastic.
He didn’t particularly care.
It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t force himself to be excited about showing a bunch of strangers around a building they’d probably forget the moment they left.
Then—
A flash of pink caught his attention at the back of the group.
Megumi paused.
Pink hair.
Huh.
That was an odd coincidence. You didn’t exactly see people with pink hair every day.
His gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary before he forced himself to look away.
No.
Absolutely not.
He was NOT doing this again.
“Uh… everyone head down the hall to the right. I’ll meet you there to continue the tour.”
The interns began shuffling toward the exit, some chatting amongst themselves as they slowly dispersed. Megumi stood to one side, waiting for the room to clear while trying very hard not to look back at the pink-haired person.
Maybe he was hallucinating.
Was he seriously so delusional over a guy he’d met ONCE that he was now seeing him in random crowds?
God. That was actually pathetic.
It was probably just a coincidence.
Why would Yuji even be here, of all places?
The last few interns at the back began making their way toward the hallway, gradually disappearing around the corner.
And then Megumi saw him.
Properly.
Pink hair. Familiar face. That stupidly recognisable expression.
Yuji.
As in… Yuji?
What the actual hell was he doing here?!
.
Yuji, meanwhile, could practically feel his soul leaving his body.
The second Megumi told the group to move down the hall, every single function in Yuji’s brain seemed to shut down. His legs weren’t working. His arms weren’t working. His ability to think like a normal human being had apparently packed its bags and fucked off without warning.
And Megumi was looking directly at him.
Oh, he was DONE.
Finished.
Cooked.
He might as well start digging his own grave now.
Then their eyes met.
Those ridiculously mesmerising green eyes locked onto his, and for one brief, horrible moment, Yuji forgot every single problem he currently had.
God, his eyes are pretty—
NO.
BAD.
NOT THE TIME.
Get a grip, Itadori.
Megumi was already walking toward him, his expression growing increasingly irritated with every step.
Oh, man.
That couldn’t be good.
Actually, when had Megumi started working here?
Wait.
That was a stupid question. They’d only met earlier this week. For all Yuji knew, Megumi could’ve been working here for years.
Brilliant, Yuji. Really using that big brain of yours.
Megumi stopped directly in front of him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He kept his voice low, though it was more of a very loud whisper than anything else. The irritation in his expression made it abundantly clear that he was not remotely amused.
Yuji knew he was in trouble.
He knew he could get kicked out, questioned, or possibly even arrested if Megumi decided to report him.
He knew all of that.
And yet, somehow, his brain decided that the best possible response was—
“Uh… research?”
Yuji let out a nervous laugh.
Megumi didn’t smile.
Not even a little.
Yuji’s laughter died almost immediately.
“Research?” Megumi repeated, raising an eyebrow. “With a group of interns?”
His gaze dropped to the keycard hanging around Yuji’s neck.
He read the name.
Then he looked back up at Yuji.
His expression somehow became even more deadpan.
“Alejandro?”
Yuji swallowed.
“It’s a nickname.”
Megumi stared at him.
Silence.
The kind of silence that made Yuji want to spontaneously combust right there in the middle of the laboratory.
“Alejandro Fernandez,” Megumi repeated slowly, as though giving Yuji one last opportunity to hear himself. “Is a nickname for Yuji Itadori?”
They stared at each other.
Yuji could feel his palms getting sweaty.
His brain scrambled desperately for a way out of this conversation, but unfortunately, the only thing it came up with was—
“Well, when you put it like that—”
“Yuji.”
Megumi’s voice cut straight through his pathetic attempt at an excuse.
His expression softened by approximately zero percent.
“Just tell me what you’re doing here.”
Yuji felt his face heat up with embarrassment, shuffling his feet from side to side. He had no idea what to do with himself. He needed to move, fidget, something before he spontaneously collapsed from the sheer humiliation of the situation.
“…Technically, when I said research, it wasn’t really a lie—”
Megumi sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his temple.
Oh, he was definitely on his last fucking nerve.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again to look at the increasingly nervous boy standing in front of him.
Okay… maybe he felt a little bad for interrogating Yuji so harshly.
A little.
But the guy was technically trespassing and impersonating an intern at a company worth billions. If anyone found out Megumi knew what was going on and had simply let him wander around, he could get into serious trouble himself.
And the last thing he needed was to deal with that on top of everything else.
“Just… go home? Please?”
His voice softened.
Not by much, but enough for Yuji to notice.
Megumi lowered his hand, looking directly into those gorgeous brown eyes again.
There was something about them.
Something warm. Something comforting.
Which was ridiculous, really, considering he’d only met Yuji once before.
Well.
Twice now.
Still, there was something strangely familiar about him, something that made Megumi feel a little more at ease despite the circumstances.
He couldn’t quite explain it.
And, frankly, he wasn’t going to try.
Yuji paused.
For a split second, the embarrassment clouding his mind cleared, and he actually stopped to consider Megumi’s position.
The guy was just doing his job. He’d been handed a tour to lead, and now he had Yuji standing in front of him, putting him in a position where he could get into trouble for something he hadn’t even done.
Was Yuji being selfish?
Massively.
His gaze softened as he studied Megumi’s face.
There wasn’t any real anger in his expression. No hostility, no desire to get him into trouble.
Just sincerity.
And, somehow, a quiet sort of trust that Yuji would do the right thing.
Oh, fuck.
Now he felt even worse.
Because he was probably going to break that trust.
He needed answers. More than ever.
He’d spent years knowing next to nothing about his parents, and now he’d finally found a lead. A real one. He couldn’t just walk away from it.
This might be his only chance.
He might never get another.
“Okay.”
The word came out quieter than Yuji had anticipated.
But judging by the way Megumi let out a breath, almost as though he’d been holding it in the entire time, it was exactly what he’d wanted to hear.
A small quirk appeared at the corner of Megumi’s lips.
Barely there.
Not quite a smile.
Was it ever quite a smile with him?
Yuji kind of wanted to change that.
…
Wait.
WHAT?
“Thank you.”
Megumi’s voice was deep and calm, the softness in it almost enough to make Yuji melt straight through the floor.
He was so unbelievably screwed.
Because how was someone supposed to hear a voice like that and continue functioning normally? How was he meant to act like a regular human being when Megumi looked at him like that?
It was genuinely unfair.
And Yuji was about three seconds away from embarrassing himself all over again when a voice called out from across the room.
“Can someone take the interns for the tour? Who was supposed to—”
“It’s me. I’ve got it.”
Megumi interrupted the caller without even looking away from Yuji.
Oh.
Oh, that was bad.
Now that they were standing so close, with Megumi looking directly at him, Yuji could see just how long his eyelashes actually were.
Seriously.
Who gave him permission to look like that?
The eyelashes, the eyes, the face—
Stop.
STOP IT, YUJI.
You are here to investigate your missing parents, not admire some guy’s eyelashes!
And yet, somehow, he was doing an absolutely terrible job of remembering that.
Complimenting someone’s appearance in your head was completely normal, wasn’t it? People found strangers attractive all the time. Even friends could think other friends were attractive without necessarily liking them.
Right?
Definitely.
Absolutely.
Nothing to worry about.
Megumi finally turned away before the conversation could drag on any longer. He lifted a hand in a small wave, then headed down the hallway toward the interns, who were huddled together in a group like a bunch of lost puppies waiting for someone to tell them where to go.
Yuji barely managed to lift his own hand in response.
His brain was fried.
Completely and utterly fried.
He stood there, watching Megumi walk away, still mentally replaying every second of their interaction and, rather embarrassingly, simping over a guy he’d met twice.
Twice.
He needed professional help.
Yuji let out a long sigh, allowing his pathetic excuse for a wave to fall back to his side.
Then the guilt crept in.
Because Megumi had trusted him to leave.
And Yuji had just lied straight to his face.
Sorry, Megumi.
His expression fell as he glanced toward the hallway where Megumi had disappeared.
He really did feel bad.
But not bad enough.
Taking one last breath, Yuji turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction from the exit.
He still had answers to find.
.
The place was like a damn maze, and Yuji managed to get lost in a matter of seconds.
That had to be a new record, right?
He could’ve sworn he’d passed the same warning-sign-covered door at least three times already, and with every familiar corner he turned, his hope of finding anything useful dwindled a little further.
Maybe he should’ve just turned back.
Maybe he should’ve listened to Megumi.
Maybe he should’ve done literally ANYTHING other than wander around a highly classified research facility with the navigational skills of a lost toddler.
But no.
Here he was.
Yuji continued down the empty hallway, venturing further into a section of the building where he very clearly wasn’t supposed to be. The silence was almost unsettling, broken only by the distant hum of machinery and the occasional beep coming from somewhere behind the walls.
Then, just as he was beginning to wonder whether he’d somehow stumbled into the world’s most boring horror movie, voices interrupted his thoughts.
Yuji stopped dead in his tracks.
The voices were getting closer.
Coming from the opposite end of the hallway.
Shit.
His eyes darted around desperately, searching for somewhere to hide. There was absolutely nothing. No conveniently placed cupboards, no open offices, not even a suspiciously large potted plant.
COME ON, UNIVERSE. HELP A GUY OUT HERE.
His gaze landed on the nearest door.
A door with a rather intimidating warning sign.
Well.
It was either that or get caught.
And, being the absolute idiot he was, Yuji grabbed the handle and slipped inside, quietly pulling the door shut behind him just as the voices rounded the corner he’d been standing beside mere seconds ago.
He froze.
Silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
A few muffled words.
And finally, nothing.
Yuji let out a slow, relieved breath, pressing his ear against the door to make absolutely sure whoever it was had moved on.
They were gone.
Thank GOD.
He slumped against the door, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.
Man.
He really needed to be more careful.
He was going to get himself fired from a job he didn’t even have.
.
“So, Gumiiii~! Who was that? Huhhh?”
Megumi could practically hear the obnoxious grin in Satoru’s voice before he even looked up.
God, he hated this man.
Well, hate was a strong word.
A word he would absolutely stand by, but a strong word nonetheless.
Megumi sighed, leaning back in his chair after finally returning to his desk. He’d just finished showing the interns around the building, and it had probably been the most mind-numbingly boring task he’d had to deal with all day.
And that was saying something, considering he’d spent the morning analysing experimental data.
At least the data had the decency to be interesting.
The interns, on the other hand, had looked as though their souls had collectively left their bodies about five minutes into the tour. He was fairly certain none of them had processed a single word he’d said.
Honestly, he couldn’t blame them.
Still, he’d done his job. He’d survived the ordeal.
And now, apparently, he had to deal with this.
“Nope. Absolutely not. Hell no. We’re not doing this.”
Gojo merely whistled, already strolling toward Megumi’s desk with an almost theatrical sway to his steps.
Considering Satoru Gojo was a fully qualified, highly respected scientist responsible for several groundbreaking discoveries, it was genuinely impressive how little maturity he possessed.
Megumi despised that about him.
Actually, no.
He despised a lot of things about him.
The stupid grin. The constant teasing. The complete and utter inability to mind his own business.
And, perhaps most of all, the fact that this absolute moron was his godfather.
Not by choice.
And definitely not by his father’s.
Nope. Absolutely not his father’s idea.
It had been his mother’s wish before she passed away, and Megumi had no intention of disrespecting it, no matter how much of a headache Satoru could be.
Because, to be fair, Gojo did have his good moments.
They were just incredibly rare.
Like a solar eclipse.
Or a day when the entire research department ran without a single technical issue.
The only reason Megumi put up with him half the time was because Tsumiki liked him so much.
Well…
That, and the fact that, despite everything, Megumi did love the idiot.
He just didn’t particularly like him as a person.
There was a difference.
A very important difference.
“Oh, come on, Gumi!” Gojo sing-songed, leaning against the edge of the desk. “You can tell meee~! Is he your boyfriend? Or is he a soon-to-be boyfriend?”
Megumi froze.
…
What?
A sudden warmth crept up the back of his neck, threatening to spread across his cheeks.
The hell?
Boyfriend?
WHAT BOYFRIEND?!
His brain immediately supplied an image of pink hair and warm brown eyes.
Megumi mentally kicked that thought straight into the nearest dumpster.
No.
Absolutely not.
He wasn’t—
He couldn’t—
No! Never!
…
Well, not never—
NO.
WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH HIM?!
“What?! No!” Megumi blurted, whipping around to glare at him. “Ah—why do you even—?!”
He cut himself off, unable to find a single coherent sentence that didn’t make the situation sound approximately ten times worse.
Gojo’s grin widened.
Oh, he was enjoying this.
Of course he was.
Megumi shot him a look that could’ve killed a lesser man.
Unfortunately, Satoru Gojo was not a lesser man.
He was, in fact, the most insufferable man alive.
And he was already grinning from ear to ear, his ridiculous sunglasses doing absolutely nothing to hide the sheer delight in his eyes.
It was almost impressive how much he could communicate with nothing but an obnoxious smile and the unbearable confidence of someone who knew he was getting under your skin.
Megumi’s eye twitched.
I am going to kill him.
Not literally, obviously.
Probably.
“What’s with the face, Gumi?” Gojo teased, tilting his head. “You look awfully defensive for someone who definitely doesn’t have a crush.”
“I SPOKE TO THE GUY ONCE.”
The words escaped Megumi’s mouth before he could stop them.
Silence.
Gojo blinked.
Megumi blinked.
Then Satoru’s grin grew so wide it was practically a medical emergency.
Oh, fuck.
Megumi had just made everything approximately a thousand times worse.
He slowly lowered his head into his hands.
He was never going to hear the end of this.
.
Yuji’s hand was still wrapped around the door handle, trembling slightly as the adrenaline that had carried him through what he’d briefly imagined to be an execution finally began to wear off.
He’d probably just get kicked out.
Same difference.
Well… now that he was here, he might as well have a look around, right?
He turned, only to realise just how dark the room was. Squinting into the shadows, he tried to make out his surroundings, but from what he could see, the place looked pretty boring.
Frowning at the distinct lack of anything remotely exciting, Yuji turned back towards the door. He’d rather not waste his time somewhere that offered absolutely nothing in return.
Unfortunately, his foot had other ideas.
He took a step back, only for his heel to catch on the edge of a step he hadn’t noticed in the darkness. His arms flailed as he stumbled backwards like an absolute buffoon, crashing into the wall behind him.
Something clicked.
Something else hurt.
“OW—!”
And then, suddenly, the room lit up.
Well. Sort of.
Purplish-black lights flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across the space. At the centre of the room stood an enormous, peculiar mechanism, its tangled webs twisting around one another in a steady, rhythmic motion.
The webs were glowing.
“Holy shit…”
Yuji stared, his eyes reflecting the neon light as he took in the strange green droplets suspended above the webbing. They hovered at varying heights, each one glowing faintly against the dark backdrop.
What the hell is this…?
And then he did what was probably his dumbest thing yet.
He stepped straight into the middle of the glowing array.
His head swivelled slowly as he took in the entire room, trying to get a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the bizarre contraption. It looked almost mythical, like something ripped straight out of a fantasy movie.
This was incredible.
Absolutely incredible.
And, naturally, his joy lasted all of five seconds.
The mechanism suddenly ground to a halt.
A sharp, high-pitched screech cut through the room.
Yuji froze.
Uh…
The glowing green dots above him began to fall.
At first, he barely registered what was happening. They were just little green dots, tumbling from the darkness like some kind of bizarre meteor shower.
Then one landed on his head.
Then another.
Then another.
By the time at least fifty of them had landed on him, Yuji finally put two and two together.
They were—
“SPIDERS! HOLY CRAP—OH MY FUCKING GOD!”
His voice came out as a strangled whisper-shout, panic flooding his chest with equal parts terror and pure, unfiltered disgust.
Oh, he was going to throw up.
Yep. It was happening. Any second now.
The spiders kept falling, accompanied by tiny squeaks and the faint, horrible sound of their little legs skittering against one another.
Yuji clapped both hands over his head and squeezed his eyes shut so tightly they might as well have been sewn closed.
He could still feel them.
Light little patters against his hoodie. Tiny, weightless touches against his scalp, like raindrops tapping against a window.
Except they weren’t raindrops.
They were spiders.
Yuji had kept his eyes shut for a long-ass time, and he was painfully aware of it.
His mouth was clamped shut, his hands were still shielding his head, and his entire body remained frozen like a damn statue. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, silently praying for his suffering to end, but eventually, when he no longer felt the weight of tiny spiders raining down on him, he decided to risk opening one eye.
Just one.
The spiders were dead.
All of them.
Scattered across the floor around his feet.
“Oh! Ahem…”
Well.
That was certainly something.
Yuji was still in shock, barely processing the fact that he’d just been mercilessly attacked by a bunch of glowing spiders, but thankfully, his brain was functional enough to arrive at one very wise decision.
Get the hell out of here.
He tiptoed towards the exit, despite his legs trembling like they were about to give out beneath him. Every step required careful consideration as he navigated his way around the still-twitching corpses, making absolutely sure he didn’t accidentally step on one.
Because that would be disgusting.
After smacking himself everywhere, of course.
Yuji was usually pretty good with spiders and insects. Sort of. He could handle the occasional creepy-crawly without completely losing his mind.
But when they glowed?
Yeah, no. He was drawing the line there.
His hand shot towards the door handle, not even bothering to check whether anyone was on the other side. He didn’t care. He just wanted to escape that room of horrors and leave the entire experience behind him forever.
And he did not look back.
The door slammed shut behind him as Yuji stumbled into the hallway, immediately shoving both hands into his hoodie pockets. His shoulders hunched towards his chest, as though he could somehow fold himself into a smaller, safer version of himself.
He needed a moment.
Possibly several years.
Maybe coming here had been a terrible idea after all. So far, the only thing he’d learned about his father was that the man apparently operated on an entirely different level of intelligence.
Because Yuji was dumb as fu—
BONK.
His head collided with someone else’s as he wandered blindly down the hallway, still too dazed to pay attention to his surroundings.
This was really not his day.
Well, that was it. He was done for. Day trip over. Investigation cancelled. Someone could come collect his corpse whenever they felt like it.
“Ah. Satoru said I should look out for a pink-haired boy.”
The voice was soothing, smooth as butter, and far too calm for someone who’d just been headbutted by a stranger.
Yuji slowly lifted his head from where he’d been staring at the floor.
Standing in front of him was a man wearing a lab coat similar to Megumi’s. Then again, apparently everyone in this building wore the same damn thing, so that wasn’t exactly helpful.
The man had black hair tied neatly into a bun, with a few loose strands falling along one side of his face. A smile seemed permanently settled on his lips, faint creases gathering at the corners of his narrow, tired-looking eyes.
He looked… nice.
Suspiciously nice.
Wait.
Who the hell was Satoru?
And, more importantly, why was he looking for Yuji?
“Uh…” Yuji let out a nervous little laugh, taking a half-step backwards. “Hah… must be the wrong person!”
He stared at Yuji in confusion, one eyebrow lifting slightly as the boy began backing away from him.
What an odd kid…
Before he could even attempt to explain himself, however, Yuji had already taken off at full speed.
He blinked.
Oh.
Well… that worked.
.
SONG FOR THE CHASE: DECEPTACON ;) (listen with headphones reading at this point I promise it’s peakilicious)
Yuji’s battered sneakers pounded against the polished floor as he sprinted down the corridor, taking a sharp left turn so abruptly he nearly slipped. He barely managed to dodge a poor employee carrying an absurd number of folders, ducking beneath their outstretched arm before charging towards the next door in sight.
“Hey! Stop running!”
“YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE!”
“Sir! PLEASE!”
Yuji ignored every single one of them.
He’d rather not, actually.
In fact, the exit was looking really good right about now! Haha…
Yeah, no. He was getting the hell out of here before someone could throw him out personally. After the spider incident, he was officially done with Jujutsu Tech. His curiosity had been satisfied. His academic ambitions had been fulfilled. His life had flashed before his eyes at least twice.
He was going home.
End of story.
.
Megumi was halfway through checking the data on his clipboard against the information on his computer when something pink flashed past his office.
He paused.
Then slowly turned his head.
A pink-haired moron was sprinting down the corridor at an absolutely ridiculous speed, with several employees and security staff struggling to keep up behind him.
Megumi stared.
What the fuck?
Hold on.
Yuji was still here?
He’d assumed the idiot had gone home after their conversation. He’d practically told him to leave. The boy had even agreed!
So what the hell had he been doing all this time?!
Getting chased by staff?!
Research purposes, my ass.
A few feet away, Satoru was standing beside Megumi’s desk, staring into the middle distance while muttering to himself about where he should take Suguru on their next date. His attention wandered towards the commotion, following the same pink-haired blur as Yuji blitzed straight through the laboratory and disappeared into another room.
There was a brief silence.
Then Satoru burst out laughing.
Not a polite chuckle. Not even a restrained snicker.
Full-on, doubled-over, wheezing laughter.
“Oh my GOD!” He clutched his stomach, barely managing to get the words out. “Wow! Quite the friend you’ve made, Gumi!”
Megumi felt embarrassment wash over him so intensely that he wanted to crawl beneath his desk and never emerge.
He buried his face in his clipboard, grumbling something deeply unintelligible into the paper.
Not that anyone could hear him over Satoru’s absolutely obnoxious cackling.
Yuji, you dumbass.
What the hell were you thinking?!
.
I’m gonna make it.
I’m gonna make it!
Yuji practically launched himself down the stairwell, taking the steps five at a time—or, in some cases, skipping so many that he was fairly certain he was no longer using the stairs as intended.
His legs were burning. His lungs were burning. His dignity had abandoned him somewhere around the third floor.
But he was almost there.
The reception area came into view, and Yuji took the final stretch at full speed, only to stumble spectacularly off the last few steps and nearly eat the floor.
He recovered just enough to keep running, shooting past the reception desk and a furious-looking man who was currently turning an impressive shade of red while arguing with the thoroughly overwhelmed receptionist.
“Calm down, Mr. Fernandez! We’ll get this matter resolved!”
Yuji didn’t stop.
He couldn’t stop.
But somewhere in the depths of his rapidly deteriorating brain, a few gears finally began to turn.
Fernandez?
He kept running.
As in Alejandro Fernandez?
His pace faltered for half a second.
As in the Alejandro Fernandez whose keycard I stole?
Yuji’s hand instinctively flew to the ID card hanging around his neck.
The one he’d borrowed.
The one he absolutely, definitely, one-hundred-percent intended to return.
That Alejandro Fernandez?
Oh.
Oh, no.
OH, FUCK.
“HEY, YOU! STOP!”
“QUIT RUNNING, KID!”
“THAT’S THE GUY WHO TOOK THE KEYCARD!”
The receptionist pointed furiously towards a very speedy Yuji, who was already attempting to rip the lanyard over his head. Unfortunately, it had other plans. The string had somehow managed to tangle itself in his hair, and the wind rushing past him at full speed was doing absolutely nothing to help.
“That’s MY KEYCARD, DAMMIT!”
Alejandro Fernandez yelled before joining the ever-growing club of People Chasing Yuji Itadori.
Funnily enough, the club seemed to be gaining members at a rather impressive rate.
Honestly, at this point, they should start charging admission.
“I KNOW, I KNOW! SORRY!”
Yuji shouted back, the wind whistling past his ears as he desperately tried to untangle the lanyard from his hair without slowing down.
A noble effort.
A futile one, too.
The card had somehow become wedged halfway over his head, leaving one eye covered while the plastic rectangle repeatedly slapped him in the face with every step.
WHAP.
WHAP.
WHAP.
He was being physically assaulted by an employee ID.
He was going to die here.
And the worst part?
He couldn’t even see where the hell he was going anymore.
This day couldn’t possibly get any worse…
RING RING.
Yuji almost screamed.
His phone was ringing loudly from somewhere inside his hoodie pocket, barely audible over the wind roaring in his ears, the security staff shouting behind him, and the general commotion of a dozen people trying to figure out what on earth they were witnessing.
It was probably Choso.
Of course it was Choso.
Ignoring a call from Choso meant having the police contacted and an entire search party assembled within ten minutes. Maybe fifteen if he was feeling merciful.
“Ah, SHIT!”
Yuji fumbled desperately inside his pocket, trying to locate his phone while remaining technically capable of running in a straight line.
A difficult task when one eye was covered by a stolen keycard and said keycard was actively attempting to beat him unconscious.
The phone finally slipped into his hand.
He nearly dropped it.
Somehow, through sheer determination and a frankly concerning amount of luck, he managed to swipe his thumb across the screen and slam the green answer button before shoving the phone against his ear.
All without slowing down.
Because slowing down meant accepting defeat.
And he was so close to the exit!
His hood whipped behind him, his pink hair was pushed entirely off his forehead, and the ever-expanding conga line of employees and security staff continued to thunder after him.
Honestly, if someone started playing music, the whole thing would make for a fantastic parade.
“Yuji? Yuji?! Hello? Are you going to be home soon? It’s already past curfew!”
Yuji contemplated every single life choice that had led him to this exact moment.
Unfortunately, he was a little too busy being chased through a science corporation to actually do anything about them.
“Heyyyy! Chosooo…” He wheezed, desperately trying to sound casual despite the fact that his lungs were preparing to file for divorce. “Hah—yeah! Yeah, I’m almost home! Just—I’ll be there in a bit!”
He was so obviously out of breath that he might as well have been announcing it over a loudspeaker.
Did he have time to reassure Choso properly?
Nope.
Did he have time to come up with a believable excuse?
Also nope.
Did he have time to consider the consequences of his actions?
Absolutely fucking not.
“Yuji? Why do you sound out of bre—”
“BYE, CHOSO!”
Beep.
Yuji hung up.
Just like that.
A clean break.
A beautiful farewell.
A phone call that would almost certainly come back to haunt him within the next five minutes.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and focused on the one thing that mattered.
The exit.
Freedom was right there.
All he had to do was keep running.
And, preferably, avoid getting murdered by Alejandro Fernandez on the way out.