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Yuuji was in love with Junpei.
It was an epiphany that he came to quite simply and quite easily. There were no long nights that he spent milling over his feelings, no grueling “he loves me he loves me not”; nothing of the sort. It was instantaneous; Yuuji looked over at Junpei one morning, Yuuji’s scarf wrapped around Junpei’s neck and his cheeks a slight red from the winter cold, and decided that he was in love with him.
He was in love with Junpei .
Because saying he was in love with Junpei was different than saying he was in love. It insinuates that Yuuji can't get the same feeling from something else; that he can't love Junpei in the same way as other trivial matters or people. He was no stranger to loving people (he loved his mother, he loved his friends, and at some point in time he loved Megumi, though that's more than over) but being with Junpei—loving Junpei—was something different altogether. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It made him want to smile and grin and violently throw up all over Junpei’s red IKEA carpet.
This is why he ignores the red flags.
There were a few things that Yuuji could say about Junpei. If someone was to ask, he would begin by talking about how great of a listener Junpei was (he was always concerned with what Yuuji was doing. Not in an overbearing way, but he genuinely wanted to know about his day and everything that happened) and how he was so loving and attentive . He let Yuuji sit in his arms and rant about his day, and whenever Yuuji passively mentioned that he needed something, anything really, he would wake up and it would be there, in his kitchen, like clockwork.
It was the first time that he had felt that way. Junpei looked at Yuuji like Yuuji had hung the moon and given him the stars on a golden platter; he treated him like he—Yuuji Itadori—was Junpei’s entire world.
And it was amazing and it made Yuuji feel great (better than great—he was positive there was an adjective to describe it but it wasn't yet in Yuuji’s vocabulary so he must settle with great ) but there was something that nagged at the back of his head, a constant reminder of his issues with trust, that he couldn't quite ignore.
It comes first from Nobara.
Most of it actually comes from Nobara, since she found it her civic duty to be as painfully blunt with Yuuji at all waking hours, and it comes with absolutely no sugar coating since she didn't believe in that either.
“I don’t buy it.”
“ Buy it ,” Yuuji scoffs, picking a stray flower off a tree, “Nobara, I don’t need you to buy it, it’s my relationship. Not exactly something that can be bought.”
He watched from the corner of his eyes as she scoffed and crossed her arms.
“You know what I mean, jackass,” Nobara mumbles, fixing her scarf around her neck, “There’s something wrong with this dude you’re seeing. He is way too good to be true.”
Yuuji frowns, tucking the flower into his pocket.
“What’s so unbelievable about me finding a good partner?
“Nothing about it is unbelievable, it's just that this guy— he’s unbelievable.”
“How so?”
Nobara sighs and Yuuji prepares himself for whatever personal attack she was going to conjure for him.
“All he does is talk to you and go to work. He is a playwright with no credited films and yet he has a seemingly endless supply of money. He travels the world but seems to lack culture. He wears no color and he wears long sleeve shirts in the summer—”
“—that’s irrelevant though, it’s December,” Yuuji interrupts.
“—and he is 22 with no online presence,” Nobara continues, “Is that not worrying you?”
“Not really,” Yuuji yawned. From what he knew about Junpei, he didn't have an ideal childhood (his father walked out on him when he was six, he was bullied from the time he was 10 to around 17, and his mother died in a break-in four days before his 18th birthday) so while it was kind of strange, given the circumstances it was not surprising. He had no excuse for the previous things, but most of Nobara’s concerns he could chalk up to her being judgemental and slightly overbearing.
“Not really,” Nobara mocks, pulling her hat over her ears, “It’s fucking weird. You have no family and yet you have an Instagram.”
“Ouch,” Yuuji laughed, “I still don’t get why you think that’s so concerning though. Not everyone likes social media.”
“It’s weird.”
“Not rea—”
Yuuji frowned, catching himself, before staring at the ground.
The second person is Gojo (or rather, the spirit of), but it comes through Nobara.
Yuuji dries his hands off, putting the last of his dishes on the drying rack before checking his notifications.
Nobara
7:31 PM | junpei’s last name is yoshino
7:31 PM | before gojo died he said that getou knew a yoshino...he was also from shibuya…
Yuuji rolled his eyes, quickly sending a reply.
that’s not funny.
Nobara
7:34 | i’m not trying to be funny
7:34 | just forget it.
Yuuji frowns, turning his phone off and placing it on his coffee table.
Signs seemed to come in threes, so Yuuji was pleased to find that nobody else had any qualms with his relationship.
(It was hard for him to admit that he liked the sight of the world from behind his rose-colored glasses)
“I fucking hate Tokyo,” Junpei groans, taking off his shoes at the door and placing two takeout bags on the counter.
Yuuji looked over his shoulder, laughing before turning back towards the TV. Junpei was covered in water; the light-red hoodie that he left the apartment in was now a deep crimson and his hair was dripping with rain. It looked cute on him, in the strangest way, and Yuuji was forever grateful that Junpei offered to pick up their food on his way home from work instead of getting it delivered.
“Mhmm,” Yuuji hums, walking towards the kitchen, “That’s why you’ve lived here your whole life, isn't it?”
Junpei shook his head, some rainwater falling off his hair in the process before wrapping his (wet) arms around Yuuji, burying his head into his neck.
“My love, you are the only thing keeping me here,” Junpei laughs, letting go of Yuuji and taking off his hoodie, “I truly hate this city. Too much rain.”
“It rains everywhere else in the world, babe.”
“Not in California,” Junpei quips, taking two plates out of Yuuji’s cupboard, “Had a job there for two months and it never rained once. Shit was amazing.”
“Baby, they're in a drought.”
“ Good .”
Yuuji smiled, sitting down.
“What did you do today,” Yuuji asks, shoving a chopstick filled with food into his mouth. Pad thai, Yuuji realized, remembering that he told Junpei he was feeling for thai food a few days prior.
It’s a simple question, one that's light and basic, but Junpei looks at him skeptically, twisting his noodles in his plate.
“Uh...not much,” Junpei admitted, “What about you? Still working on that lab?”
Deflection , he thought to himself, his inner conscious sounding vaguely like Nobara.
“Yeah, but that’s boring. I wanna know what you did today.”
Junpei shrugs.
“I didn't do anything notable.”
It feels like a lie.
“You sure,” Yuuji challenged.
“I’m positive.”
“I’m just saying though, I feel like you probably had something interesting that happens—”
“Baby, this is sounding like an interrogation,” Junpei interrupts, taking a sip from his pineapple juice, “Did I do something.”
“No,” Yuuji sighs, poking a piece of chicken with his chopstick, “Just tired.”
Tired ...The word felt fitting and yet he couldn't give a placement on why.
Like clockwork, it seemed that after Nobara ripped the proverbial rug out from under him (the one that Yuuji had no idea that he was standing on) things seemed to go wrong on the quotidian. Daily texts and calls turned into bi-weekly ones, and whenever Yuuji did see Junpei he seemed... fragmented .
(Was he always like this)
Conversations still seemed to carry the same, Junpei listening to Yuuji and entertaining every one of his ideas, but it seemed off. Nobara was right, (not about everything, Junpei was obviously not in the yakuza) Yuuji knew nothing about Junpei and it almost seemed like it was on purpose, Junpei expertly ducking and dodging every single serious question that Yuuji tried to propose to him.
It is suffocating, this newfound epiphany that has been placed on him but he doesn't know how to deal with it. Any question he asks Junpei is dodged and going to Nobara was useless; he had too much pride to deal with an “I told you so”.
It was confusing.
He didn't understand why Junpei felt the need to hide so much from him (he didn't understand why Junpei felt the need to hide anything from him, for that matter) and he felt stupid for not noticing the brick wall that was built between them.
“I love you,” Junpei hums into Yuuji’s shoulder, kissing the top of his head before grabbing his jacket off the couch, “I’m gonna be gone for a few days. Producers taking me to Korea.”
Yuuji hummed, staring at a bird on the windowsill.
“I believe you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I love you,” Yuuji smiled, “ Have a nice trip.”
He doesn't hear from Junpei for 13 days, 17 hours, 57 minutes, and 48 seconds.
(But who's counting)
Hey this is Junpei and..uh...leave a message and I promise I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Or at least I will try...shit, I’m saying too much. Just—leave a message at the beep! Bye!
Yuuji thinks that even with his eyes closed, he could pick Junpei out amongst a crowd.
This is why when he sees him in Shibuya Station (despite claiming that he was in Seoul for another three days) he is surprised, to say the least.
It felt as if someone was slowly suffocating him. Junpei was a mere 200 meters away from him (he looked different, his expression dull and emotionless, but it was definitely him) yet it felt like Yuuji was looking at him from behind a screen or some sort of glass wall.
He knows it would be wrong to follow him.
Every relationship professional would tell him that what he needed to do was sit down with Junpei and have a conversation (throw around some “I” statements for good measure, an example being ‘I don’t like it when you deceive me and lie straight to my face ’) and most importantly trust that whatever he is hiding he is doing for good reason, but Yuuji was way far gone and he was sure that if he sees what he thinks he’s going to, there won't be a relationship to salvage.
He’s not sure why Junpei would want to cheat on him. Yuuji, for all intents and purposes, was a good guy. He was attractive and smart and funny and any he understood Junpei in a way that, not to give himself too much credit, no one in the fucking world could understand so it made no sense as to why Junpei would need to go elsewhere for anything since Yuuji was pretty much perfect as good boyfriends go.
Maybe I’m too cocky. Maybe that’s why he’s cheating on me.
Yuuji followed Junpei, making sure to hang back a bit to keep out of his peripheral vision. He didn't seem to notice he was being followed, Junpei too preoccupied with something on his phone to realize that Yuuji had been pursuing him for a good four blocks. Junpei stopped, doing a quick scan around him before ducking into an alleyway.
Yuuji hears it before he sees anything, his heart sinking into his stomach.
“ Getou-kun . Why am I here?”
The name sounds fake coming off of Junpei’s lips, it makes Yuuji’s throat tighten and his head feels heavy.
“What did you do with Ohashi?”
“He’s dead, I think,” Yuuji heard Junpei sigh, “Mahito was supposed to deal with it, why don’t you ask him.”
“Nobara”, Yuuji began to whisper, backing up from the alleyway. He turned around and began to walk, first one step, then two, then three, before breaking out into a complete sprint. It didn’t make sense; there was no way that Junpei—his Junpei, the Junpei who would flinch if a butterfly landed on him, the Junpei who sang Disney songs while he cooked and used cupcake body wash —could admit to killing someone.
Yuuji didn’t realize how far he ran until he reaches the train station.
He sits down on a bench, cold, metal, unfeeling (like someone he thought he knew) and stared at the asphalt before breaking out into a sob.
“I went out yesterday night.”
“ Okay ,” Junpei says slowly, taking off his shoes at the front door. He puts down a plastic bag on Yuuji’s coffee table, the bag reading Incheon International Airport, and he feels like puking.
“I took the train. The one that goes from Shibuya to Ginza-itchōme Station.”
“Okay.”
“And I went for a walk. On East 52nd Street near the little hole in the wall breakfast place that you took me to.”
Junpei stared at him, confused, before blinking twice.
It was obvious that Junpei knew what he was referring to but saying it aloud made the situation all the more unavoidable.
“You said you were going to Seoul. I saw you at Shibuya station. You were with Getou Suguru. You work with Getou Suguru.”
Junpei’s face twists into a grimace and he looks forward, avoiding Yuuji’s gaze.
“What would you like me to say, Yuuji,” Junpei concedes, his voice cracking like he wasn't the one who got himself into this situation.
It almost makes Yuuji feel guilty.
“Maybe this was a mistake.” Silence suffocated the room. He looked at the promise ring on his finger. It was a mistake. Yuuji set it on the table between them. “Maybe I don’t actually know who you are.”
Yuuji searches Junpei’s eyes as they sit there in the pregnant silence of his apartment before giving him a small nod.
“Are you going to leave,” Junpei asks, quiet enough that if Yuuji really set his mind to it he could convince himself that he said nothing at all.
“Are you going to let me?”
He knew the answer already, but it was only fitting to ask.