Archive of Our Own

Yuuji is the prettiest girl Megumi has ever seen. 

It’s no offense meant to Nobara, who was perfectly good-looking in her own right, but to Megumi it was undeniable- she wasn’t Yuuji. Nobody was. 

The blush pink hair that floated down to her belly button, the cropped hoodie that skimmed up against her waist every time she reached, the tailoring of her uniform pants that tugged at every curve of her long legs and left off at her ankles. Megumi hadn’t known she could feel that way about another girl, and yet, here she was- wishing that Yuuji had opted for skirts like the rest of them. 

It didn’t mean that Megumi didn’t hate Yuuji, though.  

It wasn’t that Megumi was jealous, but if she could switch bodies with Yuuji right now? She’d do it- no questions asked. The height advantage alone would make a world of difference, never mind the broad set of Yuuji’s shoulders and the leanly muscled arms that could take down even the strongest of curses barehanded. Meanwhile, Megumi had worked her whole life trying to make up for delicate features that couldn’t pack a punch no matter how hard she tried. It was infuriating, having to rely on tools and her cursed technique- especially when Yuuji was thriving so loudly and spectacularly without either. 

“What’s up her ass?” Nobara asks Megumi, leaning in close. Yuuji is deep in focus trying to learn her way around a cursed tool. For some reason, it has a mind of its own and keeps blowing back at her- not that Megumi had been watching. 

“Like I give a shit,” she spits back, putting as much distance between herself and both of her classmates as possible. To get any work done, she’ll have to keep her back turned. Otherwise she’ll spend the rest of their self-guided practice staring at the lines of Yuuji’s limbs like a hungry, desperate artist in need of inspiration. She knows better than to fall into that trap. At least, she does now. 

Which is why she doesn’t think to warn Nobara before she takes the wayward staff from Yuuji. 

“What the fuck! ” Nobara whines, a thick red welt already forming on her forehead by the time Megumi whips back around. Apparently the cursed tool’s temper hadn’t been exclusive to Yuuji, but the strength of its tantrum had been massively downplayed by the girls unnatural strength. She’s already taken it back form the injured Nobara to inspect it more thoroughly, unthreatened by its outburst. 

“Do you think it's defective?” she asks Megumi as Nobara writhes, looking up with wide eyes. The markings beneath her eyes glisten so brightly when tilted to the sun that Megumi has to remind herself to breathe as she notices them. 

“Of course I do, dumbass,” she retorts, her reflex to be snarky somehow more innate than her instinct to stare. At least she has something to be thankful for in all this. 

“I’m getting Shoko,” Nobara says, shaking her head. “That thing is fucked.” 

Yuuji is oblivious of course, but Megumi can hear the quiver in Nobara’s voice. Whether from the pain or the shock, she’s about to cry. If Megumi was a good friend she’d offer comfort or insist on going with her to the infirmary, but Megumi is selfish. She doesn’t want to leave yet.

The two of them watch Nobara retreat up the hill, a hand held to her hanging head as she digs her heels into the grass for leverage. 

“Guess that’s it for weapons today,” Yuuji says solemnly before finally turning back to Megumi. “Just the two of us now. Wanna spar?” 

“No,” Megumi insists venomously. As if she would ever put herself in such close distance to Yuuji willingly. Not only would she be overpowered physically in an instant, her mind would be so mushy at that proximity that even someone as dense as Yuuji would be able to figure out what was going through it. 

“Worth a shot,” Yuuji says, seemingly unsurprised and unbothered by Megumi’s unprovoked rudeness. Another close call gratefully avoided, Megumi is about to turn back around when Yuuji throws her back forward to meet her knees, hair flipping in a rainbow-like arch as she does. Suddenly, Megumi can’t move at all. She’s too busy watching as Yuuji collects each strand of her hair and piles it together into a haphazard bun on the top of her head with a plain black tie from her wrist. “Fuck, it’s hot out today,” she remarks as she makes her way back up, the nape of her neck newly exposed. 

And just when Megumi thinks she is safe- that she’s already had her allotted moment of gay panic for the day- Yuuji raises her arms above her head and tugs off her hoodie, revealing a candy apple red sports bra that is sure to haunt Megumi’s dreams for weeks to come- and it only gets worse from there. Megumi’s eyes travel up the indented line between her toned abs and up to the bottom hem of the bra. 

Another thing Megumi had cursed Yuuji for was her small bust. From a tactical standpoint, it was just more aerodynamically convenient to have less weight centered there. Megumi practically had to strap her own down by force each morning, silently cursing them for each size they’d grown since middle school as she did. But now that she sees Yuuji's, not just a pressed down lump beneath fabric, Megumi realizes with startling interest that what they are not as nearly barely-there as she once thought. They peek out of the low-cut bra as if by a corset in a period piece, perfectly curved and constricting against her chest with every breath she takes. 

Megumi swallows, hard. If she didn’t know better, she’d call foul and claim they were fake. Hell, even Nobara would if she saw them. That’s how unbelievable they were. 

“I’ll spar with you,” Megumi hears herself say. Stupid. So, so stupid. 

But just as she’s about to scream at herself, something clicks over in her brain. Admiration turns to hatred and fascination turns to fury. How dare Yuuji be blessed with a body like this? Exceptional in every way- tall, strong, and now shapely, too. What had she done to deserve it? Simply be born? It wasn’t fair. If Megumi’s body was half as useful she’d already be practically unstoppable. 

“Really?” Yuuji perks up, grinning like an idiot. Why is it that she’s so easy to please? Megumi is downright nasty to her half the time, barely throwing her scraps, and yet she smiles and smiles like Megumi hung the moon. A kicked dog that just won’t stop coming back. 

“Yeah, but if you try-” 

Megumi doesn’t get the next words out. Yuuji comes at her and fast. Before she knows it, Yuuji has shifted into her fighting stance, dropping into her knees and throwing a right hook at Megumi’s face. Wait, no- not at Megumi’s face- next to Megumi’s face. To anyone else, her next move would be a surprise, but Megumi knows this trick already, has known it for years. 

So when Yuuji takes the opening on the ground, hooking her left foot around Megumi’s, she’s exactly where Megumi wants her. She can’t stop herself from going down- Yuuji is just fast enough that Megumi can’t fully react- but she can control how she goes down. And if she’s going down, Yuuji is one-hundred-percent going down with her. 

“-Try anything Maki taught you, it’ll be a waste of both our time,” Megumi finishes as they hit the ground, trying to decide if she’s annoyed or thrilled. She’s won this round, after all. 

But then she gets distracted as she takes stock of the situation. When they toppled over, Megumi had landed on all fours- directly on top of Yuuji. To anyone looking on, it would look like she was practically mounting Yuuji, her knees effectively pinning the other girl to the ground. Suddenly, despite being the one in control, Megumi can't move at all. 

“Oh, yeah,” Yuuji realizes. “The cousin thing,” she ponders. Megumi is still frozen to her spot, unable to break the contact. “What about this then?” 

In a flash, Yuuji has grabbed Megumi’s shoulders and used her freakish strength- momentum that has come from truly nowhere- to flip them both over. Megumi struggles, but can’t break the hold in time. Yuuji pushes her down and reverses their positions, but this time instead of landing face to face, Megumi finds herself eye to eye with Yuuji’s cleavage. It hangs directly over Megumi’s face, not even inches away, as Yuuji’s heavy breath threatens to push them even closer. 

She manages to stop herself from make a yelping noise, but only just barely. She can’t even imagine what her face looks like as she slips into her shadow and frantically kicks herself away from Yuuji’s hold. If she could get away with it, she’d go all the way under and never come back out.

“Whoa! That was so awesome!” Yuuji exclaims, so focused on the application of the cursed technique that she doesn’t seem to notice the look of horror on Megumi’s face. She hasn’t moved yet, and there’s barely any space between her and the ground. Had Megumi really fit there just seconds earlier? Had they really been that close? “I wish I had a cool cursed technique.” 

“Whatever,” Megumi grumbles, getting up and turning her back to the other girl as quickly as she can manage. She never should’ve agreed to this- it was way too close for comfort. 

“Should we go again?” Yuuji asks, completely oblivious. Too bad Megumi is already halfway up the hill. 

“No,” she seethes, taking another massive step away. It’s pointless though- she’s already long out of earshot. For a second, she worries that Yuuji will follow her, make some stupid joke to calm her down and then convince her to come back to spar, but she doesn’t. Megumi walks back to the dorms totally alone.

***

When Megumi enters the common room that night, her first thought is that a bomb has gone off.

A bomb of pink glitter and confetti, that is: Nobara’s extended make-up kit. Open palettes and tiny compacts litter the coffee table, pencils and tubes rolling off the side and spilling onto the carpet. Clearly she’s either feeling better or trying to make herself feel better about the blow to the head. Or, of course, it’s left a mark and she’s working on ways to cover it up. Such an endeavor would involve everyone in the vicinity, of course.  

Megumi will have to wait to find out what's happening for certain though, because Nobara sits on the couch with a large white sheet mask obscuring every inch of her face. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Megumi asks her. Even a little bit of reversed-cursed technique was enough to take it out of a person, and she’d need that rest if she wanted to make the best of their classes tomorrow. 

“Um, this is resting?” she retorts, gesturing with the TV remote in her hand to convey her annoyance. Well, at least Megumi had tried to be the voice of reason- not her fault if it didn’t work. Let Sensei yell at her friend for being lazy in the morning and then see how she feels about it. 

Just as Megumi is about to make a graceful retreat back to her room for the rest of the night, a second voice wafts in from the kitchen. “Popcorn’s done!” 

The warm butter hits Megumi’s nose in the same second Yuuji turns the corner- an absolutely lethal combination. 

A combination made all the more lethal by the realization that Nobara has used her outrageously large collection of make-up on someone other than herself. No- that’s not right. Even from halfway across the room, Megumi can tell that Yuuji’s look could only be achieved by her own handiwork. One eyelid has an opalish lavender color swept across it, and the other a dazzling rose gold, both working up her face and fading out just before they reach her brows. There’s not much else on her face- not that she needs much, she’s always bare-faced anyway- just a spattering of mascara and just a hint of coral blush on the edges of her cheeks. 

The whole effect of the mismatched eyeshadows is absolutely ridiculous. It’s screamingly loud. It’s Yuuji. No one else could pull this off, Megumi is sure of it. Anyone else would be swallowed by the look, outshined by the brightness of its fluorescent chaos, but Yuuji somehow makes it look fresh and effortless. She wears it the same way as she would wear nothing at all. She’s so fucking cool, Megumi thinks. Bitch. 

“Fushiguro!” she notices, stopping short. “You’re here!” 

Megumi sees the smile curling onto the other girl’s face, but hasn’t yet figured out what it means. She's about to ask, but in a flash- everything with Yuuji happens in a flash- the girl has galloped all the way across the room, carelessly flinging the bowl of popcorn into Nobara’s arms as pieces slosh to the floor. 

“Me, me, me!” she exclaims, doubling back to catch Megumi’s wrist and yank her toward the couch. “Can I do this one? Please, Kugi!?” 

Megumi still doesn’t understand where this is going, not until Nobara’s eyes flick briefly to her make-up collection. “Knock yourself out.” She says, cramming a massive handful of popcorn into her mouth and turning her attention back to the TV. Yuuji squeals with delight. 

“Wait a minute,” Megumi argues, everything finally starting to register. Yuuji does no such thing though, already guiding Megumi backwards to the couch and pressing her into one of the cushions.

“This is going to be so great,” Yuuji insists, not hearing her at all. She’s too busy grabbing at things, whipping around like a hurricane ripping as she goes. She’s the only thing in motion in the whole room, but even then Megumi can barely keep track of her.

“Itadori,” Megumi sighs reluctantly, already feeling the onset of a migraine tingling behind her eyes. The last thing she wants right now is a makeover, and she’s about to say so- when the impossible happens. 

Yuuji climbs onto her lap. 

Well, it looks like Megumi won’t be needing any blush during this session. Armed with products, Yuuji sinks into the couch, swinging a knee over Megumi and plopping right down. Her ass is literally on top of Megumi’s legs, her calves pressed tightly against her so the two of them only take up one single couch cushion. It is a gross invasion of personal space, but then again- Yuuji has never had much of a concept for what that was anyway. 

Megumi could speak up. Actually, she could throw Yuuji off of her and onto the ground in one single motion- she’s certainly strong enough. But instead she finds herself frozen, watching Yuuji’s lips gently part as she inspects Megumi’s face. Megumi feels every inch of her body seize as soft brown eyes dance across her. Yuuji, not noticing, takes the momentary lapse as an opportunity to shimmy an inch closer. 

“Your face is so clear,” she marvels. Something about the proximity has made her drop her voice to a whisper- a rare thing for Yuuji. She sounds so pure, childlike with her wonderment. “You don’t even need foundation.” 

If Yuuji had seen Megumi in middle school, it might’ve been a different story. She decides not to mention it. Actually, she’s too busy holding her breath. She’s not sure she can afford to breathe in a circumstance like this one. Yuuji seems completely relaxed though, pliant against Megumi’s rigid body.  

“I’m only good at the fun stuff, anyway,” she touts, reaching for a nearby palette and flipping the cover back. She takes a long look at the colors, carefully considering. Megumi isn’t sure she’s ever seen the other girl this deep in thought, certainly not in their classes. Her face lights up, presumably as she makes a decision on the color. She looks up at Megumi seriously, tilting her head in. “Do you trust me?”

No. Yes. It depends. How could she? But at the same time… after all they’ve been through together, how could she not?  

“I’ll just wipe it off if I hate it,”  she settles on. 

“That’s the spirit,” Nobara adds dryly from the corner. Megumi nearly jumps in her seat. She’d forgotten for a moment there that there was anyone in this room besides herself and Yuuji. With the two of them so close like this, it didn’t seem possible for anything else beyond their current sphere to exist. Her brain simply didn’t have the capacity for anything more than this, whatever this was. 

Focus blankets Yuuji’s face as she taps the excess off her brush and raises it to Megumi’s eyes. Megumi forces herself to go blank, staring straight ahead. She means to stare at nothing, but Yuuji’s cheeks- just below the extra slits beneath her eyes- are what’s at Megumi’s eye level. They’re all she can look at. There’s a slight flush to them, just as lively as Yuuji. 

“Stay still,” the other girl instructs. What a foolish idea, that she of all people would be telling Megumi to control herself. 

“I’m always still,” she argues. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Yuuji chides, yanking the brush back. “No talking!” 

Megumi wants to shake her head in frustration, maybe even argue some more, but that would just be proving Yuuji right a second time. Instead she stews, eyes landing right back on that same point of Yuuji’s face to drill holes. If the other girl can feel Megumi fuming through the brush, she doesn’t let on. Quite the opposite, actually- she seems quite pleased with herself, the smile on her face mirroring the curve of Megumi’s frown. 

“I guess mascara would be a waste of time,” she comments, still generously dusting Megumi’s eyelids. “Your lashes are already so long. What about some eyeliner?” 

“You can’t even walk in a straight line.” Nobara chimes in, never one to miss a good retort. Yuuji’s lips twist into a pout. 

“Can too!” she argues. “And I could totally do eyeliner if I wanted to. I mean, I haven’t before, but I could.” Oh, great. This is sure to be a disaster. Megumi has suddenly acquired a fear of mirrors. “And we only just started- I can’t be done already!”  

“You’ve done plenty,” Megumi insists. Yuuji doesn't seem so sure though, desperately scanning Megumi’s face. Megumi feels the weight of every flick of her eyes. She wonders how much longer this can go on- she’s already sweating under her sweatshirt, and she just showered. At this rate she’ll have to all over again. 

But lightning strikes and so does Yuuji. With no warning, she’s leapt off the couch and to her feet. She sifts through the makeup carefully, clearly looking for something specific. “One last thing.” She promises, clasping a tube in her fingers. 

Why Megumi thinks anything else is about to happen, she doesn’t know, but Yuuji settles right back into the same position she started in on Megumi’s lap. The only difference is that this time, she goes insidiously slow, lowering herself leisurely so Megumi has a better view of her neck and shoulders than she ever thought she needed. And just to make matters worse, Yuuji uses her free hand to flick her hair back and toss it over her shoulder. For crying out loud.

Mismatched eyes blink at Megumi. 

“I want your eyes to stand out, so I’m going to use a clear one,” she explains, as if she knows something about the theory of makeup that Megumi doesn’t. Megumi is pretty sure that Yuuji doesn’t even own any makeup. The only other time she’d seen Yuuji wear it was when it came from Maki’s sparse collection. 

She uncaps the gloss, but instead of raising it to Megumi’s lips, she deposits a dollop directly onto her fingers.

Uh oh. Megumi thinks, but it’s already too late. 

Slowly, Yuuji brings her index finger to Megumi’s bottom lip, dabbing gently. Megumi nearly has a heart attack. This wasn’t… normal, was it? For girls to do this with each other? The way Yuuji is leaning in close to her, fawning all over her and literally touching her lips? This kind of behavior should practically be illegal for two people who weren’t expressly interested in one another. Right? 

“Rub your lips together for me?” The other girl requests. For some reason, Megumi obeys, distributing the product along her lips. For me, she’d said. Just how much was Megumi willing to do for Yuuji? The other girl leans in and whispers conspiratorially. “I’ve always wanted to say something like that.” 

She just keeps getting closer. They’re so close that they can feel each other’s breath, that Megumi could count the individual flecks of glitter around Yuuji’s eyes if she wanted to. Finally, after a long moment of eye-widening panic, Yuuji pulls away. Now that she's done, she hooks a thumb under Megumi’s chin to admire and examine her work with a smile.

“The gloss is a nice touch,” ahe praises. “Maybe I should use some, too?” 

She phrases it as a question, but she’s already globbing more product onto her finger. The same finger. She spreads it along her lips with the pad of a finger that had just been touching Megumi’s not even seconds before. That had to be intentional, right? Or was the other girl really that dense? If it was anyone other than Yuuji, Megumi would know the answer, so it infuriates her to no end that she doesn’t. She’s used to being able to read people’s intentions from a mile away, but with Yuuji everything was a mystery. 

“Now we match,” she smiles, leveraging her hands on Megmui’s shoulders to push herself back up. With one final flaunt of her bust in Megumi’s face (possibly intentional, probably not) she stands back up and the moment is over. Finally. 

“Blue?” Nobara asks, cringing. She’s looking right at Megumi. “Why would you do blue? She has green eyes.” 

Megumi shuts her eyes and pretends this isn’t happening. Blue eyeshadow? Jesus. How stupid could she be, letting Yuuji do that to her? She probably looks deranged now, or like she was sporting a pair of black eyes. Had she really been so distracted by Yuuji’s proximity that she didn’t even check to make sure that the other girl was using a reasonable color?

“It’s complimentary,” Yuuji argues. Megumi wonders what magazine she got that phrase out of, because she surely didn’t think of it herself. “Besides, all of your greens are ugly. None of them match Fushiguro’s eyes.” 

Clearly, Nobara only hears the first half of that last statement. “Take it back, bitch!” she yells, reaching out to swat at Yuuji as punishment for her insult. Yuuji shies away, but not enough to fully dodge Nobara’s wrath. Even when she steps back, they both just start throwing makeup at each other. 

In the shuffle, Megumi grabs for handheld mirror so she can see for herself. She’s prepared for the absolute worst, stomach knotting- but the blue isn’t clownish at all. She’d been expecting a bright indigo or a dark and scary navy, but it turns out to be neither. Instead, it’s a delicate shade of icy blue, fanned into the creases of her lids with care. It glistens like freshly fallen snow and for a change Yuuji is totally right- it brings out the color of her eyes. 

“What’s going on in here?” a voice calls, entering the fray. Nobara and Yuuji instantly snap back to their best behavior, hiding lipsticks behind their backs. It’s the second year, Yuuta Okkotsu. He'd just got back from abroad and has been making quite an effort to get to know the other first years. Megumi met him months ago of course, so she’s been laying low to give the others a chance. Mostly though, she was doing it because she’d hoped her classmates come to their senses and realize that Yuuta is the only non-chaos demon among the second years. They still hadn't. Instead, they’ve taken it upon themselves to corrupt him. 

“Okkotsu-Senpai!” Yuuji cries, excitable as ever. It only gets worse when Toge wonders in behind the other second year. “Inumaki!!! We’re doing makeovers. You have to join.” 

Yuuta and Toge exchange dubious looks. 

“Toge just finished his nightly 10 step skincare routine-”

“Shake,” Toge confirms, shaking his head in scorn at the offending makeup.

“So he’s out,” Yuuta finishes. Yuuji stands frozen in her place, short circuiting. The lip gloss is still resting in her hand. This wasn’t the answer she was hoping for, clearly. Even more, it’s not the only answer she was waiting for. Yuuta figures it out at about the same time Megumi does. “But I can’t say I’ve ever had a makeover before, if you’d like to do the honors.” 

Yuuji is already wriggling with excitement before he can get the words out of his mouth. “Sit! Sit!” she insists, dragging Yuuta onto the carpet. Toge pulls out his phone and heads to the armchair next to Nobara, settling in to wait it out. 

Megumi watches carefully as Yuuta and Yuuji sit-cross legged on the floor, knees touching. Nobara turns up the volume on the TV, so Megumi can’t hear what the two of them are saying, but there’s something different about Yuuji she can’t put her finger on. She’s not acting the same way she was when she was doing Megumi’s makeup. She keeps looking down at the ground, giggling between words. As she spreads a reddish blush onto Yuuta’s face with a big fluffy brush, she’s smiling at him in a way that’s almost… coy. 

Fuck. Of course. Yuuji doesn’t like Megumi. Why would she, when Yuuta, the tall and perfect and handsome second year- the special grade sorcerer- is paying so much attention to her?  

Are they as close as Yuuji and Megumi had been? No. Are they sharing a lip gloss? No.  Are they staring deeply into each other’s eyes? Also, no. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Yuuji hadn’t been nervous to do all those things with Megumi, but she was nervous in front of Yuuta. The only reasonable explanation was that she's trying to impress the older boy. 

And why wouldn’t she? They’re a good match. It makes sense, actually- those two freaks of cursed energy deserve each other. Megumi can’t even blame Yuuji. If circumstances were different, she would probably have a huge hopeless crush on Yuuta, too. But circumstances aren’t different, and the hopeless crush that Megumi does have just officially got upgraded from hopeless to totally lost cause. 

She can’t watch anymore. She shifts her attention to the TV and does her best to block out stray words and the sounds of their occasional bursts of laughter from the floor. She’s burning on the inside though, grinding her teeth and crossing her arms tightly enough to cut off her circulation. Even Toge seems to be sneaking peeks at the pair, slight concern in his eyes. 

Yeah, sorry, Megumi thinks. You’re about to lose your best friend, too. 

When Megumi can bare to look back over at them, she sees that Yuuji is cupping a hand around Yuuta’s ear and whispering something into it. When she pulls away, his ears and cheeks are bright pink- and not just from the blush, either. Well that’s that then.

“Okay, how’d we do?” Yuuta asks when the next commercial break starts. He stands up and twists around, showing off Yuuji’s work to the others. Somehow, for all the time the two of them have wasted, the only evidence of Yuuji is the tint of blush and a layer of clear nail polish on his fingernails. Megumi hadn’t noticed them doing that last bit, but she can only imagine that they were practically holding hands the whole time. It made her want to throw up in her mouth. “I think Yuuji really captured me!” 

Yuuji? He met her, what, three weeks ago? And he’s already calling her Yuuji? Megumi isn’t even calling her Yuuji yet. Absolutely fuck that. 

But no one else even flinches. Toge nods his head encouragingly and Nobara offers a small clap, paying more attention to an ad for moisturizer than to the actual look. 

“Sujiko, takana?” Toge cuts in, head tilting toward the door. He wants to leave. Thank god. 

“Ah, yeah- we’d better head out!” Yuuta replies, scratching the back of his head. Sometimes it looks like he’s reaching for his katana, even when it’s not there. It was a thought that once amused Megumi, but now it just annoys her. Everything Yuuta Okkotsu does annoys her. “Catch you all later!” Yuuji and Nobara offer their goodnights, but Megumi stays silent. “Bye, Megumi,” he adds, as if he’d somehow been able to sense Megumi’s hostility from across the room. Again- annoying . 

“Konbu,” Toge waves, disappearing into the hallway. The second he’s gone, Yuuta sneaks back around and flashes two thumbs up at Yuuji, who returns the gesture instantly with a grin. Megumi is still trying to make sense of the exchange when Yuuji plops down next to her, right in the free seat between her and Nobara. There are at least six other places she could have sat, but of course, it has to be right there. Megumi scoots into the corner, putting as much distance between them as she can. 

“Okay, what’d I miss?” Yuuji asks, reaching for a handful of popcorn from the now almost empty bowl. 

Nobara gives her a brief explanation of the show and Megumi plans an escape. She doesn’t give a shit about this show and she can’t stay here any longer. Yuuji is only sitting next to her because her first choice just walked out. Megumi refuses to be anyone’s second choice- even hers. 

She excuses herself a few minutes later during a key moment of the show, and no one even seems to notice her go. 

***

That night, Megumi dreams. 

Inexplicably, she finds herself in front of the vending machines with a handful of coins. She steps toward the drink machine, but when she looks for her usual brand of tea, it’s gone- replaced with something cutesy and sugar-loaded. She tries the snack machine next, but it’s even worse. The spots where she can usually find all of her regular purchases have been cleared out, left with nothing but shadowy gray coils. There’s nothing here that she wants. 

Her first thought, of course, is: fucking Gojo. He was messing with her, obviously. The sweetened version of tea she liked? That had his name all over it. It’s totally something he’d do, too. She looks over her shoulder, wondering where he’s about to pop out from to admire his handiwork, but the idiot is nowhere to be found. 

And when she looks back to the vending machine, she sees a flash of white out of the corner of her eyes. She recognizes it instantly- Yuuta’s uniform. He’s the only one who wears anything even remotely that color. Had Sensei sent him to do his bidding? But no, that’s not it- 

There’s someone else with him.

When she sees dusty pink hair, she nearly doubles over. Pressed between Yuuta and the brick wall is none other than Yuuji, head tilted all the way up to meet Yuuta’s mouth. One of his hands rests on the wall over her shoulder, the other at the nip of her waist. The set of his shoulders is so wide, not to mention his height, that she’s practically completely obscured by him. And the way they’re kissing- desperately and monstrously- it almost looks like he's eating her. 

Megumi can’t tear her eyes away. Yuuji looks so small in his grasp, so delicate. Megumi could never give her that, not by a long shot.

After what seems like hours, Yuuta finally notices Megumi and looks up at her with a roguish grin. “Do you mind?” he asks. 

It’s around then that Megumi starts to realize this is only a dream- maybe only because she wants it to be so badly. But also, she knows that Yuuta would never be so outlandishly rude, not to anyone. It wasn’t in his nature. Still, she spends her last few seconds of unawareness searching Yuuji’s face. 

The other girl won’t look up at Megumi, eyes shrouded and fixed on the buttons of Yuuta’s uniform. And it’s that, right there, that Megumi hates more than anything- that Yuuji would be shutting her out for any reason. 

Yuuji and Yuuta kiss for a few more seconds as the dream ends, sinking beneath the waves as Megumi floats to the surface. Even when it’s over, Megumi is paralyzed by it for several moments. She stares at the ceiling, unable to get the image of their bodies fit so perfectly together out of her head. It’s only when she hears a loud crash from the room next door that she jolts upward. 

“Itadori?” she calls, suddenly completely awake with adrenaline. 

When the other girl doesn’t respond, she panics. Practically flying out of bed, she bolts out of her room and into Yuuji’s. She doesn’t even bother knocking, too busy being consumed by her terror. It wasn’t that Jujutsu Tech wasn’t safe- Megumi knew well that they were in an unprecedented stronghold for sorcerers- it was that Megumi knew better than anyone what they’d welcomed into it along with Yuuji. Things had the capacity to turn on them at any minute, and Megumi was always going to be responsible for that. 

But Yuuji is fine. No telltale signs of Sukuna, just startled eyes and a skinned knee. She’s fallen out of her bed and onto the floor, legs sprawled. 

“Oh, shit,” she says, eyes catching the light of the hallway. It’s totally dark in her room. The shadows almost swallow her. “Did I wake you up? Sorry about that.” 

“What happened?” Megumi asks, still standing in the doorway. She can’t quite cross the threshold. A room of shadows- her greatest solace in this life- and yet here she is, apprehensive.

Yuuji shakes her head. “Nothing. Well, not nothing. It’s stupid,” she says, trying to play it off. There’s a shakiness in her voice though, one that Megumi isn’t familiar with. It’s unsettling, to say the least. “It’s just… do you ever look down and see a mouth grow on your hand, but you forgot that you can grow a mouth on your hand, so it talks and you get all freaked out?” 

Megumi doesn’t really have an answer to that. 

“Guess not,” Yuuji says, looking down. She’s embarrassed. Which is ridiculous, when you consider it’s pretty much Megumi’s fault that she’s in the mess in the first place. 

“You’re bleeding,” Megumi remarks.

“‘It’s nothing,” she dismisses, even though a dark liquid trickles down her leg. Megumi sighs. There’s no way Yuuji knows how to handle this herself. Maybe they could go knock on Yuuta’s door for- no. Megumi may not be able to use reversed cursed technique, but she could certainly patch up a skinned knee. They did not need to bring Yuuta Okkotsu into this.

“Turn a light on,” Megumi instructs. “I’ll get you cleaned up.” Yuuji blinks at her, unsure. For a second, Megumi worries that Yuuji will turn her down, but then she reaches out and flicks on her bedside light.  

She’s wearing a pair of boxer shorts that hangs just below her hip bones with a worn-out red and white baseball shirt on top. It’s too big for her, so the stretched out neckline falls over one of her shoulders, exposing her bare skin. Megumi forces herself to avert her gaze before she gets distracted, heading to Yuuji’s bathroom door. 

It’s barebones- exactly what she’d expect. Soap on the porcelain sink. A hairbrush perched on the edge. A stick of deodorant on the tank of the toilet. She opens the vanity, thinking she’ll find some sort of antiseptic or a box of band-aids, but it’s practically empty. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a lip balm, and a single bar of facial soap. 

This a joke, right? No skincare, no makeup, no hair products? Jesus. She really just looks like that. So fucking annoying. Besides the box of tampons on the ground, there’s not a single shred of evidence that this bathroom belongs to a girl. Even the products in the shower are cheap, drug-store two-in-ones. Megumi can only roll her eyes. She grabs a wad of toilet paper and wets it, pumping some hand soap onto it and letting it suds. It smells faintly of lemons, fresh and clean- she’d caught the scent of it on Yuuji’s hands before, now that she thinks of it.   

When she comes back, Yuuji is staring at the wall, lost in thought. It gives Megumi the brief chance to look around. It basically looks the same as it did the day she moved in- the only truly personal touch is the Jennifer Lawrence poster above her desk. The only difference now is that she’s taped up a few things next to it and her desk is littered with papers- all forgotten assignments, no doubt. 

“So, were you sleeping?” Yuuji asks, eyes still far away. “I bet you’re the type that goes to bed early.” 

It’s true- Megumi never did see the point in staying up late, not like most of her classmates did. Whether they were watching youtube videos or completing assignments, Megumi went out of her way to get things like that out of the way early in the day. It was scientifically proven that she’d do better the next day if she was well rested, and she wasn’t about to waste a single second of her training. A jujutsu sorcerer couldn’t afford to be anything less than perfect if they wanted to stay alive. Maybe the likes of Yuuji and Nobara didn’t understand that yet, but it wouldn't take long. Just one loss would make them see more clearly, and unfortunately, that was likely to happen sooner than later. Even with Gojo keeping Megumi shielded from this community for as long as he did, she’d already met plenty of people who had died in the line of battle. 

“I was awake,” Megumi tells her, though under any other circumstance she wouldn’t have been. She sits down in front of her. “Hold still.” 

Yuuji smirks. “You’ve been waiting to say that to me, huh?” 

It takes Megumi a second to realize it, but of course the girl is referencing their interaction earlier that night when Yuuji had told Megumi to be still. Clearly, she'd found the idea ridiculous as Megumi had. Megumi exhales something resembling a laugh and starts dabbing at Yuuji’s knee. The wound isn’t that bad, now that she looks at it. It’s already stopped bleeding and by the looks of it, it’s nothing more than a carpet burn gone bad. Still, she treats it tenderly. Yuuji doesn’t seem totally herself at the moment and Megumi wants her to feel cared for. Knowing what Megumi did about the other girl’s home life before arriving at Jujutsu Tech, it had probably been a long time since someone had done something like this for her. 

“Did you like your makeup tonight?” Yuuji asks softly, watching Megumi’s hands move across her knee. “I just realized I never asked.” 

“It wasn’t something I’d have picked out myself,” Megumi tells her, but when she feels the other girl’s disappointment radiating she adds, “But yes. I liked it.” 

Yuuji laughs. “You’re lying.” 

“What?” Megumi questions, taken aback. Why would she assume that? Megumi wasn’t the type to lie. 

“It’s okay. I know you hated every moment of it,” Yuuji rasps, laughing gently. “It was nice of you to indulge me. I had fun.” 

Megumi isn’t sure what to say to this. Had she had fun herself? As nerve wracking at the whole experience had been, she’d still have to say yes. There was something about the two of them working together that just felt right- even when it was something as silly as that. Their bond wasn’t like anything Megumi had experienced before. It was almost familial, the trust between them- similar, but somehow more. 

“What did Sukuna say?” Megumi asks, changing the subject. 

“Nothing interesting,” Yuuji dismisses. “I think he was jealous that we didn’t give him a makeover, too,” she goads. Sukuna, if he’s listening, doesn’t take the bait. “But you’re here now, so it’s okay. He always behaves when you’re around.” 

Megumi stings with guilt. Sukuna had taken a special interest in her. She still had no idea why, but that didn’t make it any less true. She hated to think that the King of Curses tortured Yuuji whenever she wasn’t around, simply because she wasn’t there to pass judgement on him. 

“What an asshole,” Megumi says pointedly, hoping he can hear her. 

“Yeah!” Yuuji laughs, throwing her head back. Megumi hasn’t dared to look too closely at her face yet, but with the other girl's eyes closed she finally gets a better look. She did a poor job of rinsing Nobara’s makeup off- and with only a bar of soap as her guide, Megumi can see why. Her manic-pixie-dream-girl eyeshadow has fallen to the wayside, but flakes of mascara still blanket the thin, delicate skin beneath her eyes. It makes her look weary. Megumi wonders if there was a curse living inside of her if she’d be tired, too. 

They sit in silence for a second. Yuuji’s back is pressed against the wooden frame of her bed. Megumi is still blotting uselessly against her knee, just for something to do. Still, it’s comfortable- just sitting together like this.  

“Hey, Fushiguro?” She asks, breaking the silence. “In your room… where’s your bed?” 

It makes sense that Yuuji would ask- Megumi has never allowed her past the entryway, and even then, that door is usually only cracked open. 

“On the left,” Megumi answers casually, hoping that the answer doesn’t give her away. Yuuji’s bed is on the right, and since their dorms are next to each other, that means they share a wall. But now that Megumi has had a good look at Yuuji’s room, she can tell that the headboards of their beds are practically next to each other, separated by only a couple inches of insulation. Yuuji smiles when she hears Megumi answer. 

“I knew it.” she says. “So… we sleep right next to each other, then.” She seems extremely pleased by this info. 

“Yeah. So?” Megumi demands. Why should it matter to her? 

“It’s just a nice thought,” Yuuji explains, still gleaming from the revelation. “That we sleep so close to each other. We’re practically sharing a bed.” 

Megumi can’t explain it, but the statement takes her from sort of annoyed to seriously pissed off. It was just cruel, at this point, what Yuuji was doing. Did she know Megumi liked her? That’s the only reason she could be teasing her so directly about these things. If she’s trying to embarrass Megumi, or make her feel perverted for the positioning of her bed - positioning, Megumi would like to add, was established long before Yuuji’s arrival- then she had another thing coming.

“Why the fuck does it matter?” she spits. Yuuji recoils as if she’s been slapped, the back of her head hitting the mattress. “So my bed is near yours. Why do you give a shit?” 

Yuuji can only shake her head, her eyes flooding with alarm. Megumi can’t blame her- she is being yelled at after all- but it isn’t exactly incentive to let up. “I… I just thought it was nice.” 

The explanation isn’t nearly convincing enough.

“Look. Just because you know, doesn’t mean you have to torture me about it,” Megumi tells her, officially flying off the handle. Yuuji was probably so proud that she’d been able to figure out Megumi’s true feelings that she hadn’t even considered how the realization would affect Megumi. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it’s cruel.”

“Wait… what?” Yuuji says quietly, every muscle in her face twisting with hurt. “Cruel? I… I don’t get it.” 

“I like you, okay?” Megumi shouts, anger still coursing through her. “So what?” 

Yuuji’s face goes slack.

Instantly, Megumi wishes she could take it back. She shouldn’t have said that- she shouldn’t have admitted that. Yuuji was stupid, but she wasn’t stupid enough to forget something that impactful. 

“You… you like me?” She asks, giving nothing away. Shit.

“It doesn’t have to be a thing,” Megumi tells her, going on the offensive. “No one said you had to like me back, okay? I don’t give a shit. But you don’t have to keep flaunting yourself-”

“I like you,” she interrupts. “I’ve always liked you. You didn’t know that?”

Now it’s Megumi’s turn to be confused.

“How would I know that?” Megumi shouts. Their rooms are pretty remote- courtesy of Gojo- so she doesn’t have to worry about waking anyone. But as quickly as the words hit her skin, so does the doubt. ‘Like’ was a pretty broad term. Yuuji probably didn’t understand the context of how Megumi was using it- and there was opportunity in that. “Look. We’re friends, right? So if you want to go run off into the sunset with Yuuta Okkotstu, I’m not going to st-” 

“Yuuta?” she squeaks. A silent moment between them passes before the giggles come, rapidly growing in volume and tenacity. Megumi can’t see what’s so funny. “Believe me, Yuuta and I are not interested in each other. Don’t you know that he and-” 

“Whoever then!” she yells, standing up. “Go fuck off into the sunset with whatever boy you choose, but leave me out of it.” 

If there was a button Megumi could press to undo the last five minutes of her life, she would give anything to press it. Why, why, why had she brought this up? She didn’t have to. The two of them could have continued the way they were going for years. Maybe it wouldn’t have been satisfying for Megumi, but at least it would’ve been. Now, their friendship would be forever tarnished by her stupid feelings. 

She could already see how it would all happen. Yuuji would start shying away from Megumi, keeping her distance and watching from afar with worried eyes. Gone would be the days of easy hangouts and conversations. Every one of their future interactions would be colored by the stain of this conversation. 

“Fushiguro…” the other girl starts, quietly and carefully. Her eyes are fixed on the hem of Megumi’s sweatpants. Megumi's are fixed on the ceiling, as far away as she can get them. “You know how Todo and I are such good friends?” 

Oh, great. Todo, too? Megumi had been so worried about Yuuta that she hadn’t even considered who else Yuuji could be crushing on. 

“It’s because we have the same taste in women,” she ventures, still not looking up. “That’s sorta why he calls me his brother. Plus, all the posters on the wall…” Megumi looks over. Next to the large Jennifer Lawrence poster are a few smaller ones, mostly torn out of magazines. Models and actresses- a few of them that Megumi even recognizes. “I guess I thought you knew? It wasn’t really a secret, or anything.” 

She shakes her head. This doesn’t make any sense. She can’t let herself believe it. 

“So you’re saying… this whole time…” Megumi trails off. Her mind is running in a thousand directions, going back and replaying situations that now look completely different to her. Megumi noticing in class that a distracted Yuuji has been staring at her. Yuuji bringing her favorite snacks to all their training sessions. The constant nearness- how every time they were in a crowd, Yuuji somehow ended up directly at her side. “You've liked girls?” 

“Yup,” she says simply. She’s not embarrassed or shy about it. In fact, Yuuji doesn’t seem to have any opinion about it at all- she’s just stating a fact.

“Tall, beautiful movie-star types,” Megumi adds, looking for confirmation. 

“Sometimes.” She shrugs. “Sometimes…” Her voice trails off as her cheeks turn pink. “Sometimes I like short girls, too. And you know, being a movie star isn’t really a prerequisite or anything. I actually happen to think that sorcerers are even cooler.” Megumi can’t believe what she’s hearing. But then, just in case there was any mistaking her meaning, Yuuji looks up and fastens her gaze directly to Megumi’s face. “But yes… beautiful girls.” 

There’s no other way to interpret it. Maybe it’s Megumi’s brain finally giving out, too exhausted to keep looking for arguments, or maybe Megumi just doesn't want to look for one. Yuuji thinks she’s beautiful. 

“Is that okay?” she asks. Megumi swallows, the inside of her throat totally dry. It’s the most she can stand to move besides a practically microscopic nod. She’s still standing in the middle of Yuuji’s room stiffly, unsure of what to do with herself. The other girl tugs her knees into her chest, rustling the crinkly fabric of her tiger-covered boxer shorts. For once, Megumi doesn’t force herself to look away. 

“It’s okay,” Megumi confirms, snapping out of it. “Of course it’s okay.” 

“But like… how okay?” Yuuji asks, pulling her legs in even closer for protection and chewing on her bottom lip nervously. Wait. Could it be possible, that even after all this, she doesn’t know how Megumi feels about her? “Because I know you’re too smart for me, too perfect, but-” 

“Stop,” Megumi cuts her off, completely baffled by the words coming out of her mouth. “Stop acting like you’re stupid, when you’re not. And If anyone here is too perfect, it’s you. You’re so…” Megumi struggles to find the right word. “So… good . And I’m awful. Why would you possibly like me? I’m mean to you.”

Yuuji smiles wickedly. “So much meaner to me than to anyone else,” she reports with excitement. “Like I’m special or something.” 

“You’re joking.” Megumi squints. “You like that?”

“I like… I like that I get more of you than everyone else does,” she says. “We’re different when we’re with each other, don’t you think?” 

It takes Megumi a second to understand her train of thought, but finally it starts to sink in. There are versions of Yuuji that Megumi knows that no one else does. Yuuji that hadn’t even seen a curse before. Yuuji as she faced death. Yuuji without a heart in her chest. Even now, this iteration of Yuuji- the one that’s sitting quietly on the floor, pensive and pajama clad, choosing her words with such care- it’s something that Megumi is certain that no one else here has been allowed to see besides her. 

And it goes both ways. Yuuji has seen every side of Megumi- her best, her worst, her strongest, her weakest. Megumi feels the muscles in her shoulders relax. Yuuji liked her, for and in spite of everything. They had something- something that other people didn’t. The idea that it wasn’t all in Megumi’s head is such a relief that she wants to cry right there on the spot. She won’t, but she could. Yuuji wouldn’t care. She’d probably wipe Megumi’s snot with the sleeve of her shirt. In fact, she'd probably like that Yuuji was crying in front of her. 

“When we’re together I forget that other people exist,” Megumi tells her. 

“Me too,” Yuuji says, understanding her sentiment unflinchingly. 

“When I thought you were dead I was convinced that I’d never find anyone else.” It’s all pouring out of her now. She can’t help it. Yuuji hangs on her every word, leaning in and cocking her head with great interest. “And today when you were wearing that red sports bra I almost had a full blown heart attack.” 

Yuuji squeals, full face turning an even brighter red than the aforementioned bra.

“So…” she prompts. “If I like you, and you like me… ” 

This is it, Megumi thinks. Everything we’ve been waiting for.

But just as she’s about to respond, her heart seizes. All of the warm and fuzzy feelings she’d spent the past few minutes collecting vanish into thin air. What the hell do they think they’re doing?

“I need to think,” she hears herself say, body acting on its own. She needs to get out of this room and fast. She can’t be here anymore. If she doesn’t leave, she’ll die.

“Oh,” Yuuji says, trying to hide her disappointment and failing miserably. Doesn’t she know Megumi can see right through her? It just makes everything worse. “Th-that’s okay. If you-” 

Megumi has already taken off though, door slamming shut behind her. The instinct to flee is so all-consuming that she doesn’t even remember what’s happened. All she knows is that she’s back in her own room, clicking the lock shut and jumping back like the handle could burn her. 

When she’s finally alone, her heart pounds in her ears. 

What has she done?

***

When Megumi wakes the next morning, fresh from a mercifully dreamless sleep, she pretends that absolutely nothing has happened. 

She goes about her routine as normal: washing her face, brushing through her hair, putting on her uniform. She sits at her desk and goes over her assignments, double-checking their answers as she packs them all neatly into her backpack. Time ticks traitorously by as she dawdles, putting her closer and closer to seeing Yuuji again. The other side of the wall has been deathly silent, a soft click from the door early this morning the only proof that she’d even been in there. 

Maybe Megumi shouldn’t go to class today. She never takes sick days, so it was unlikely anyone would call her on it. She could take off her uniform and crawl back into bed, sweating underneath the blankets and the midday sun until she actually looked and felt feverish. Gojo probably wouldn’t even check in about it, not if she was just gone for one cruddy little day. 

Her hand rests on the zipper to her skirt for a long second, deciding. In the end she can’t do it. If she doesn’t see Yuuji today, she’ll see Yuuji tomorrow. And if she’s being honest with herself, even on these terms she’d still rather see Yuuji than not. 

But how would she ever explain last night? She couldn’t even explain it to herself. And Yuuji deserves a better explanation than 'I-don’t-know-I-just-freaked-out.’  What the fuck was wrong with Megumi, anyway? She’d had a golden opportunity last night- everything she’d spent so long wanting right there in the palm of her hands- and she’d ruined it. Yuuji had poured her heart out and all Megumi did in return was run in the opposite direction. 

It’s just that Yuuji doesn’t understand, not really, what it means for two sorcerers to be in love. It so rarely worked. It’s already hard for a sorcerer to be in love, their lives being what they are. Their work comes first, always. They have to be focused, flawless instruments, ready to step into action at all times. But all of that is nothing compared to what it means to love a sorcerer. A sorcerer could die at any minute. Most didn’t even live to see their thirties. And as Megumi had already learned so well, Yuuji was more vulnerable than any of them- not just because of her inexperience, but because of the active order for her execution. Megumi would be smart to protect her heart and walk away from this altogether. 

But if Yuuji died tomorrow, what would she regret more? Being with her or not being with her? The answer is so clear. 

Megumi is out of her seat in an instant. The contents of her backpack spill onto the floor and she lets the papers lie, not caring if they get to class with her today or not. She flings her door open and tears through the hallway, not even stopping to acknowledge a worried Maki lurking in the kitchen. 

It’s nice out today, and the warm breeze whips through Megumi’s hair as she sprints, propelling her forward. She's not even sure where she's going. Sometimes Yuuji trains with the upperclassman in the mornings, so she'll start there. Megumi runs straight to the other girl's favorite practice field first- the one they’d been on yesterday- but it’s empty. She tries the baseball field next, scanning every spare stretch of land as she goes. When she gets there, It’s just as deserted. Shit. 

She takes off back toward the main grounds of the school. Maybe they’d already finished for the day? Where would they head next? Megumi almost stops in her tracks when she realizes.

The vending machines. Fuck. Of all the fucking places.

Catching a second wind, Megumi pushes her pace faster than she ever knew she could. The coat and skirt of her uniform ripple behind her in protest. She doesn’t care. She slams down on the balls of her feet and the soles of her shoes until she turns the last corner.

And there she is. Pink hair spilling out of her ponytail as she pulls it loose. Breathless, Megumi can only watch as Yuuji flips it back. She’s wearing a pair of exercise shorts in a dark golden color pulled up on her hips, a thin white t-shirt tucked into it at the back. It takes Megumi a second to notice, but the top is just slightly see through. She can see what’s underneath it: The red bra. Had Yuuji put it on this morning with Megumi in mind? Would that be too much to imagine?

“Oh, hey Megumi!” Yuuta greets. She’d been so busy looking at Yuuji that she hadn’t even noticed he was there. Now that she sees him though, she’s noticing something else entirely. His hand was on her shoulder. Megumi nearly blacks out. “I didn’t know you-”

“Don’t fucking touch her,” she booms, blood running hot. “She’s not interested, okay!? So why don’t you get your grubby hands off of her.” 

“Wh- what?” Yuuta yelps, face flooding with panic. Megumi barely sees it through- her eyes are still fixed on the offending fingers with laser beam focus. Yuuta pulls his hand back so fast that Megumi can practically hear the direction of the wind shift. With his cursed energy output, she wouldn’t put it past him. Either way, she can finally breathe. “Is everything okay, Megumi?”

“No,” she says scornfully. Yuuta takes a step back, still shocked. By now, Yuuji has turned around and is staring at Megumi with her jaw on the floor. When Megumi meets her eyes she claps a hand over her open mouth. At first, Megumi thinks that it’s out of surprise, but then she hears a muffled laugh escape from Yuuji’s lips. 

“What’s so fucking funny?” she demands, incensed. “He was trying to take advantage of you!” 

“Take advantage… oh, gosh no! No, not at all!” Yuuta assures. Not likely- Megumi saw how he was looking at Yuuji last night. She practically snarls just thinking about it. “It’s not like that! Yuuji, back me up here!” 

“I’m speechless,” Yuuji says through her hand, shaking her head in disbelief. 

They’re at a standstill until a fourth person emerges. 

“Kon…bu?” Toge says shakily, appearing from behind Megumi. 

“I’m sorry you have to see this, Inumaki-Senpai,” Megumi tells him apologetically as he brushes past her. “But Okkotsu-” 

She stops mid-sentence as Toge takes his place by Yuuta’s side and slides an absentminded hand into his. Yuuta laces his fingers around it, squeezing. 

Wait. What? 

Toge is still looking at Megumi with his head cocked, clearly confused about what’s happening. Before she can say anything, Yuuta takes stock of the situation and eyes Yuuji knowingly. “Oh. Ah, Toge- how about we give these two a minute?” He suggests gently. Toge nods enthusiastically, seeming grateful to be given an out. Megumi thinks that's the end of it, but before they go, Yuuta sheepishly adds, “You scared me for a second there, Megumi! Remind me never to get on your bad side.” 

Then he sneaks a thumbs up to Yuuji with his free hand before leading Toge away. 

Megumi is flabbergasted to say the least. Yuuta and Toge? When did that happen? She can’t worry about it now though, not with Yuuji two feet away and staring at Megumi with wild eyes. Oh shit. What had she just done? 

“Megumi Fushiguro,” the other girl starts, grinning cheekily. “Did you just… defend my honor?” 

“Shut up,” Megumi says. 

“My knight in shining armor,” Yuuji moons, not hearing her. “Swooping in to rescue me before big bad Yuuta Okkotsu could take advantage of me. It’s like a movie, Fushiguro!” 

“Can you be serious for ten seconds?” 

“How can I be serious when-” She cuts her remark short, realizing. She takes a step back. “Oh,” she says quietly, enthusiasm draining. “Did you… are you done thinking?” 

“I’m sorry about last night,” Megumi tells her, meaning it. She hasn’t been clear enough though, because Yuuji’s entire face falls. She sniffs, looking up. Megumi has to jump to correct herself. “I’m sorry I left.”

“Oh!” Yuuji responds, grin boomeranging back to her face in record speed. Megumi feels the weight of an entire building lift from off her chest. Finally, things are back to the way they were always meant to be. “That’s okay!” Yuuji assures. “My door is always open for you… if you know what I mean.” 

Megumi really doesn’t know what she means, so Yuuji adds a wink just to be sure. Megumi nearly dies with embarrassment. 

“Itadori!” she whisper-yells, twisting around to make sure no one is near enough to have heard them. “You can’t talk like that! ” 

“It’s just us, Fushiguro!” Yuuji yells, opening her arms toward the sky and spinning around buoyantly. “We can say whatever we want!” 

She dissolves into a fit of laughter, looking as unfettered as Megumi feels. The morning sun is still low in the sky, peeking through the tunnel and hitting Yuuji’s hair as she dances around. Megumi has never seen her happier. 

“Okkotsu and Inumaki?” she remembers to ask. Yuuji only laughs. “You weren’t going to tell me?” 

“I tried!” Yuuji insists, guiltless and cheerful. “Okkotsu has been crushing on him for months! Last night the two of them finally got together- probably because my make-up job was so good, don’t you think?” 

No, Megumi thinks, It’s probably because he got jealous watching the two of you flirt all night. She decides not to mention it. 

“Okkotsu-Senpai and I used to train in the mornings so we could talk about our crushes,” Yuuji explains. “I guess we really screwed it up though, since you thought I was actually interested in him.” She makes a face. “As if.” 

But then she softens again, eyes going dreamy. Megumi follows her gaze to see Yuuta and Toge leaning against a nearby fence, hands still intertwined. Toge is speaking about something passionately, and though Megumi can’t make it out, she can tell it’s more words than she’s ever heard Toge use at one time. Yuuta nods encouragingly, listening thoughtfully. 

“They’re cute though, right?” Yuuji says, watching it all unfold. 

“We’re cuter,” Megumi argues, eliciting a fit of incredulous giggles from Yuuji. Megumi notices that she doesn’t make any effort to try and correct her though, which is good- that means she must agree. Yuuta and Toge were nice enough, but they had nothing on Yuuji and Megumi. How could they? “So what do we do now?” She asks the other girl. “Hold hands?” 

“Nah, I know you like to keep your hands free for your Shikigami,” Yuuji says casually, clearly not knowing how thoughtful the sentiment is. Instead of reaching for her hand, Yuuji snakes an arm around Megumi’s back, resting it at around her waist and pulling her in gently. Megumi feels her breath catch. “What about this?”  

“That’s- that should be fine,” Megumi tells her, getting flustered. 

“We can figure it out,” Yuuji says, leaning in and pressing the words into Megumi’s hair. She’s tall enough that her chin fits easily against the top of Megumi’s head- just like the dream Megumi had had the night before about her and Yuuta, except now it was her in the fantasy. It doesn’t feel real. She blinks, just to make sure. Yuuji is still there. 

“Yeah,” she says, blushing. “We can figure it out.”