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For someone who couldn’t speak in the conventional sense, Inumaki never had difficulty conveying exactly what he wanted.
Yuta had seen Inumaki cut someone down to size with just a furrow of his brow, express so much excitement over a movie through all over body wriggling it had convinced the rest of them to watch it with him, and level such a judgmental stare that even some of the Zen’in clan had backed down.
But of all the myriad of expressions Yuta had seen Inumaki make, this one was new. The way that Inumaki had looked him over when Yuta had returned, appreciative eyes dragging slow and thick as honey over his whole body, top to bottom then back down again, had made Yuta flush so warm and harsh that he had felt dizzy from it. Both Maki and Panda had noticed, and what had made it worse was that even when Maki smacked Inumaki on the back of his head, it hadn’t stopped the violet eyed boy from staring.
It would have been understandable if it was a one time thing. Yuta knew he had changed dramatically since the last time they had seen each other. He’d grown taller than Inumaki for one, the dark bags underneath his eyes had gotten deeper, and his hair was a long mess now. While he wouldn’t say he was capable or confident per se, he definitely was less likely to trip over his own feet or get caught off guard by lower level curses.
Apparently these small changes were enough that Inumaki had gone from someone that Yuta had sat with in comfortable silence for hours on end without much discomfort to someone who could make him blush to the tips of his ears with just a look. And the problem was that Inumaki was always looking.
“I thought you went overseas to get better.” Maki said, not unkindly as she helped Yuta back up to his feet for the fifth time in about the same amount of minutes. Even though his back was to Panda and Inumaki at the moment, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled as if to warn him about an incoming danger. He tried to shrug off the feeling, because every time he glanced over it was just that Inumaki was giving him his undivided attention and Panda was fanning himself while complaining about the heat. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but every time he met Inumaki’s gaze, he felt flat footed and unsteady. A dangerous combination when sparring with Maki, who was merciless even on her worst days.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think even if I trained for a hundred years I could keep up with you.” Yuta said truthfully, earning a small scoff from Maki even as she preened at the compliment.
“You’re not as terrible as you were when you left.” From Maki, that was almost a compliment. Before Yuta could point it out or tease her about it, she whipped her head to the side to holler, “Panda! Switch!”
She stalked over to their groaning classmate, leaving Yuta with no alternative but to join Inumaki over on the stone steps. He plopped down wearily, accepting the waterbottle that Inumaki had offered him without looking at him, taking a few grateful gulps. It was strange to not have Inumaki’s full attention on him now that they were so close. The other boy was engrossed in looking at something on his phone, Yuta not able to see his screen clearly from the angle he was reclining at. Normally Inumaki made sure that his phone screen was visible to whoever was near him as it offered him a way to communicate without activating his cursed speech, so it was a bit strange that he was making a point to angle it away from Yuta.
When Yuta had left to train overseas, he always knew when Inumaki was awake since he would send multiple snaps an hour. Most of them were about what Maki and Panda were doing, often at unflattering angles, but there were also pictures of the leaves changing during the season, pictures of food, and videos or memes that Inumaki found hilarious. Every once in a while he would send song playlists with ridiculous titles like ‘pov: you’re the femme fatale in a noir film’ or ‘that moment you find out you’re afraid of birds’ (which had been an impressive eight hours straight of bird calls mixed with horror movie theme songs).
Yuta had never had a friend who had made such an effort to keep in touch, and he found himself trying to respond to these missives in kind: he sent videos he found funny or pictures of his food or random challenges Inumaki prompted him to do.
It wasn’t that Maki or Panda didn’t do the same, it was just Inumaki had them beat on sheer volume and oddness alone, and Yuta couldn’t help but be charmed by it. He had wished they were something tangible like letters, that he could tuck into a shoebox and bring it out when he was feeling lonely and low to go through them until he was laughing again, but every time he had that thought, Inumaki would send him something else right on time, as if sensing he needed it.
Of course such things wouldn’t continue now that Yuta was back, they could talk regularly now, but the old habit to check his phone any time he was able had his hand halfway into his jean pocket before Inumaki turned to see what he was doing. The amused crinkling of the corner of his eyes made Yuta feel like he had been caught in the act of something embarrassing or like he had just done a demeaning viral challenge just because Inumaki had asked him to.
Instead of saying anything, Inumaki scooted closer to Yuta and showed him his phone screen, which was sporting an enormous rabbit following its owner around the house. Inumaki slipped out one of his earbuds and handed it over to Yuta so he could get the full experience, and smiling a bit helplessly at this new and welcomed form of intimacy, Yuta slipped it into his ear. He leaned in closer so that they were shoulder to shoulder, watching as the videos changed and morphed to new ones.
While this wasn’t a deluge of texts, Yuta found somehow he liked it all the same.
---
There were a lot of odd little things to get used to that Inumaki’s onslaught of texts, videos, and pictures hadn’t prepared him for:
- Gojo-sensei appearing at odd hours and at even odder intervals to either give them missions which were a toss up between running his personal errands or actually handling cursed spirits. (Yuta could never turn either down, no matter how strange the errands were, but he took a page out of Panda’s book and would try to run if possible).
- The fact that Maki had a rabid first year girl who had appointed herself as Maki’s protector(?)/cheerleader/a few other things Inumaki had insinuated that had made Yuta blush. Strangest of all, Maki actually seemed to like her back. (Before Yuta had left, there had been a weird and awkward kiss they’d shared and both had immediately decided was an accident. It hadn’t gone further nor was it brought up again. But seeing Nobara and Maki circling each other with eyes only for one another, Yuta was a bit relieved it wasn’t just the fact that he was uncool and unattractive, but that he simply wasn’t Maki’s actual type.)
- Panda had gotten really into miniatures. Like, really, really into it. Yuta had spent more time than he wanted to admit to watching Panda as he narrated putting together a tiny bakery that included everything down to the toast and jars of honey or cooking miniature burritos. Panda had confided that his wish was to create an entire miniature village, and had been delighted when Yuta had offered to help. That delight quickly soured when Yuta turned out to be far less dexterous than Panda and when he kept burning the mini ingredients.
- Inumaki kept hiding his phone screen from him. Or more accurately, he would stop whatever he had been doing whenever Yuta entered the room and change tabs to something innocent like puppies playing in blankets or the latest dance he wanted them all to learn.
The last one was honestly the one that bothered him the most, especially since no one else had this same censorship. It was almost a toss up between who had Inumaki’s phone, the cursed speech user or Maki. He had watched the two of them pour over his phone, cracking up and swiping quickly or taking a few minutes to appreciate what was displayed on the screen, murmuring to each other. Panda would take this very seriously, but his decisions seemed to be too slow for Inumaki’s tastes. Even the first years had been privy to this, though Itadori grew bored quickly of it and ran off to train. Fushiguro didn’t seem to be as enthusiastic but he would participate for a few rounds, unlike Nobara who could be entertained by this for hours.
But whatever it was, Inumaki never approached Yuta for his opinion. Whenever Yuta tried to see what they were up to, Inumaki would quickly hide his phone and feign ignorance. He had gotten close to the truth once when Maki had rolled her eyes at the both of them and had said, “Since when are you shy? Let’s see what Yuta’s opinion is.”
Yuta had never seen Inumaki move as fast as he had that day, snatching his phone out of Maki’s grip so quickly that Yuta hadn’t been able to track the movement. Maki had chased him out of the room, swearing, and Yuta had just watched them both go, dumbfounded.
It wasn’t as if Yuta was a nosey person. He understood that even between friends there would be secrets or topics no one talked about: the Zen’in clan, Inumaki’s childhood, Panda’s siblings, Itadori’s future for starters. But after having been excluded his whole life, it hurt more than he cared to admit to find some of that creeping back here of all places, amongst the people he would die for without question.
Panda, as if sensing the dark turn of his thoughts, patted him amicably on the back and took pity on him.
“Don’t worry about it. Inumaki just likes to get other people’s opinions before he decides which way to swipe on his dating apps.”
“Oh.” Yuta said, a bit relieved it wasn’t anything too serious before his brain caught up with his mouth. “Wait, what?!”
---
“I’m not having this talk with you.” Maki told him sternly, one hand on her hip as she looked up at him, uncowed despite their difference in height. “Talk to Shoko or Toge. Anyone but Gojo, really. Even Principle Yaga would be better.”
“Oh no, no, no, no- I know about uh, all that.” Yuta said quickly, face as red as the floating cloud spear that Maki was leaning against, waving his hands quickly as if to dispel the very thought. And the traumatic memory of having that talk with Gojo Satoru of all people. There had been puppets. And movies. So many movies. Maki was right to not want to wish that on anyone. “It’s just. Should I say something? It doesn’t bother me really, but I-”
“You don’t like feeling left out?” Maki prodded, clearly not interested in letting Yuta fumble his way through this when she could cut straight to the heart of this. When Yuta fell quiet, she sighed, shifting her weight so that she could stab the spear into the ground. “You’re really not missing out on much. Toge casts a wide net, he mostly just likes to hear mean commentary.” She paused, before her gaze turned sharp and knowing, her grin wolfish. “Or are you ready to start ‘experiencing your youth’ as Gojo would say?”
“Please never say that to me again.” Yuta muttered, going impressively quick from red to pale, flashing back to Gojo-sensei saying those exact words followed by maniacal laughter. The rest he had blocked out for his mental health. He forced himself to relax, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side, trying to find the words to explain himself, and Maki seemed in a charitable enough mood to let him.
He wasn’t sure himself why he felt like he should bring this up. He did feel like he was missing out, but if mean commentary was what Inumaki wanted, he couldn’t really offer it. He wasn’t interested in ‘experiencing his youth’, but he didn’t begrudge other people for doing so. Even if a chaste and pure ( and twisted and traumatic ) love was the only real love he’d known, he didn’t hold others to that standard. He just had to look at Maki and Nobara to know that rang true. And yet…
Maki’s loud exhale of breath was all the warning he got before she whacked him lightly with the butt of her spear ( which was to say, wasn’t light at all and could have killed a lower level curse ), her patience having evaporated.
“If you’re worried, don’t be. Toge can handle himself.”
“I know.” That was part of it, but not all of it. “How does it… work? I mean he can’t say anything and it took me a while to understand him so how does-”
“Again,” Maki said with a wave of her hand that signaled this conversation was over, her parting words called over her shoulder as she headed out further into the training grounds, “go talk to Toge. He’ll show you how little he needs to talk.”
---
Despite Maki’s pointed instructions and the fact that Panda wouldn’t allow him to help him with his miniatures anymore, it still took Yuta five days to even broach the topic with Inumaki.
… If by broached he meant that he had walked in on one of Panda and Inumaki’s sessions and Panda had turned to him with an altogether familiar gleam in his eyes. Before Yuta could even excuse himself before whatever trainwreck was about to happen happened, Panda shouted loudly, “Why don’t we ask Yuta’s opinion?!” Then he had chucked Inumaki’s phone straight at Yuta like it was some electronic version of hot potato.
He caught it of course, but immediately diverted his gaze to Inumaki’s frozen expression, decidedly not looking at the screen until he had the other boy’s permission. In the middle of all of this chaos, Panda had just whistled as he exited the room, as unsubtle as Nobara in her admiration of Maki.
“I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” Yuta said solemnly after a few moments, moving so slowly and carefully to hand Inumaki’s phone back to him that someone might have believed it was a powerful cursed object. “Maki said you wanted mean commentary and I know I’m not the best at that, but maybe I could surprise you?”
A few seconds of silence ticked by between them where Inumaki made no move to snatch his phone back nor did his bright violet eyes leave Yuta’s face, the intensity of it making Yuta feel warm and jittery. Then, almost imperceptibly, he relaxed, nodding his head as he pushed the phone closer back to Yuta.
“Salmon.” He said with much more seriousness and weight than an ingredient for rice balls should ever be, but Yuta couldn’t help but beam in pleasure. ‘I trust you’ was what it sounded like to him, and it was with that buoyant joy that he let his gaze finally drop down to Inumaki’s screen. It was only Inumaki’s quick reflexes that kept the phone from hitting the ground when Yuta dropped it in shock, his brain short circuiting a little at the sight of a guy’s bare chiseled naked chest.
It was one thing to know hypothetically that Inumaki was out there ‘casting a wide net’ and ‘enjoying his youth’. It was another to have tangible proof, proof that undoubtedly was going to keep Yuta up at night as he wondered just what this guy who couldn’t even keep a shirt on had that made him worth keeping Inumaki’s attention when he had perfectly good prospects here and-
Ah. He’d been quiet for far too long and quickly, because he didn’t want Inumaki to feel as if Yuta was judging in disapproval or was as much a stickler for pure love as his disastrous childhood attempt at it was, he blurted out, “That guy isn’t that impressive. Even I could put him to shame, not to mention guys like Itadori or Todo-”
He stopped as the cant of Inumaki’s head became more and more severe, until it looked like his ear was about to touch his shoulder. Once again, Inumaki looked him up and down, that gaze as heavy as fingers against his bare skin, and Yuta couldn’t help but flush and shudder under that weight. Resolutely, he held out his hand for Inumaki’s phone because he had told Maki he could handle this, and now that he had been allowed into this inner sanctum, he would prove to Inumaki that it wasn’t a mistake to include him.
“Next.” Still looking thoughtful, Inumaki handed his phone back over to him which was now displaying a cute girl. She had shoulder length brown hair and a kind smile, and if Yuta was honest, she reminded him a bit of Rika. His gaze shot back up to Inumaki, who at least wasn’t tipping his head to the side anymore, and his gaze had gone from heavy to amused, all of which was a good sign, but Yuta still felt uncomfortable. He would rather fight a few special grade curses or have Maki kick him around the training field than make mean spirited comments about girls who reminded him, even tangentially, of Rika.
As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, Inumaki respectfully swiped the picture away so that it went to another guy. Yuta was grateful beyond words for Inumaki’s compassionate nature even in this, and he handed the phone back.
“He seems fine. Next.” They went through a few more in this fashion, with Yuta not figuring out if his commentary was being taken seriously or not since he wasn’t sure what swipes meant what, and coming to the realization that he wasn’t sure which would be better or worse. On one hand it would be nice to have his opinion, no matter how twisted and ill-informed, be worth something to Inumaki. On the other hand, Inumaki might just be humoring Yuta who clearly didn’t know what was happening because his opinion was so twisted and ill-informed.
“Tuna mayo?” Yuta started, realizing that he had been quiet for some time now, some shy looking boy staring back up at him. Unlike most of the people that had been popping up on the screen, the quality of pictures that he had taken weren’t the best and weren’t as flattering. They seemed to be mostly candid shots where he was off-guard. Maybe it was because he looked as awkward as Yuta felt, but he sympathized with him and wanted nothing but the best for him.
“What happens when you both decide that you like each other? Do you set up dates?” Yuta asked, feeling his face heat up slightly at how juvenile his questions probably sounded to Inumaki, whose idea of ‘experiencing youth’ was most likely leagues different from Yuta’s. For instance, Yuta couldn’t imagine meeting someone this way. Call him an old-fashioned romantic, but he would have to get to know someone face to face first. People could be whatever they wanted behind a screen.
Inumaki watched Yuta’s face solemnly for a moment before ruining the moment by doing such a crude gesture that if Yuta’s face had been heated before, it was on fire now and he quickly looked away as if it could somehow save him from all the visceral knowledge that came from that.
“O-Okay I get that but how exactly do you get there? These are non-sorcerers right? So they wouldn’t understand or be able to withstand cursed speech so- oh.” While Yuta had been waffling, Inumaki apparently had been matching with the awkward looking guy from the app and had sent him an unintelligible string of emojis and then a location to a nearby love hotel.
Yuta wasn’t sure what shocked him more, the fact that apparently this method worked or Inumaki’s blase expression at his surprise, the flat look all but saying ‘well, you asked’.
“Tuna tuna.” He added, as if this wasn’t clear enough, and Yuta couldn’t help but push the phone away reflexively. Not before he caught the enthusiastic response from the boy who he was now certain wasn’t shy and awkward at all, but just playing at being one.
“Aren’t you worried about running into a cursed spirit while doing this? Some of them look human!” Instead of looking insulted that Yuta was poorly implying that Inumaki wasn’t able to take care of himself, Inumaki looked amused.
“Salmon cod roe?” He asked, and what little blood that had been left in Yuta’s body immediately joined the rest of its brethren to his face. The fierceness and quickness of it made him light headed, and he swayed slightly in his seat, eyes wide.
“Go with you? Are you serious? Wouldn’t that be-” Awkward? Inappropriate? …Weird? Had he ever asked any of the others to go with him? Or had Yuta been the only one to try to imply that Inumaki would need protection?
“Completely awkward, inappropriate, and a big flouting of boundaries?” Yuta jumped at the sound of Maki’s voice, both her and Nobara wearing identical amused smirks. For his part, Inumaki didn’t seem too surprised, instead tucking his phone into his pocket and quirking an eyebrow as Maki plopped down next to Yuta and Nobara sat on the other side of him. Stuck between the two of them, Yuta felt very, very afraid for himself for many reasons he couldn’t begin to articulate, and only 65% of them were because of physical pain.
“Don’t be like that Maki-senpai. Yuta-senpai here might learn quite a lot if he goes. It would be good for him.” While what Nobara said sounded like she was perhaps on Yuta’s side, that gleam in her eye and the sharp toothed grin of hers said otherwise.
Desperate, Yuta looked over to Inumaki for help, and finding none, put his hands up in surrender.
“I know that Inumaki can take care of himself, I don’t want to interfere.”
“Maybe he wants you to interfere.” Maki snickered, yelping slightly when Inumaki reached over to snap her bra strap loudly. As the two devolved into a wrestling match, Nobara allowed herself a few moments to admire Maki’s quick grappling techniques before giving Yuta her full attention again, casually bored.
“Whatever you decide to do, make sure you know why you’re doing it. Nothing is worse than continuing to offer yourself up to someone who isn’t interested but too nice to say so.” From the sounds of someone slapping the ground behind them, Inumaki was tapping out. Primly, Nobara stood, smoothing her skirt. Her demeanor changed immediately as soon as Maki’s gaze met her own, her expression softening from its severe look, and they both smiled at each other, ignoring Inumaki squirming beneath Maki’s boot. “Ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Then, as an after thought she glanced down at Inumaki. “We’re going to the konbini. Want anything?”
Inumaki shouted some choice rice ball ingredients as the two girls left laughing, and he was still grumbling when Yuta offered him a hand and helped him up. For someone who could crush cursed spirits with just words alone, Inumaki’s hand was unassuming in Yuta’s much more calloused one.
He wanted to tighten his grip to keep Inumaki’s hand in his, but instead he let go as soon as Inumaki stood, funneling that feeling into conviction in his voice.
“If it’s okay with you, I want to go with you.” Inumaki looked up at him in surprise, his light lashes almost transparent with the sunlight washing gently over his face. It made him look softer and more vulnerable, Yuta’s breath caught in his throat for reasons he hadn’t looked at too closely, but with Nobara’s words ringing in his ears, he wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.
“Salmon.” Inumaki had said, his voice as soft as his lashes against his cheeks, and Yuta could only smile at him helplessly.
---
The love hotel was surprisingly understated, and other than having a soft pink and red neon sign that bore the hotel’s name, it could have been any other gray nondescript building on a tiny, tucked away side street.
It still didn’t mean that Yuta’s hands weren’t sweating profusely as he looked around nervously, anxiety ratcheted up even worse than a few of his first missions. If he had to put into words why he felt so jittery, it would be far too many for him to express at once. It was a combination of knowing that this was a gross overstep of boundaries even if Inumaki didn’t seem bothered by it, the fact that he had never knowingly been so close to a love hotel and all that entailed, and because well. This was uncharted territory. Both for his views on love being ‘chaste’ and because he had never had a friend to do these sorts of things with. To look out for each other during dates or to go places normal teenagers went or who would buy drinks for him.
Yuta had fumbled with the hot milk tea that Inumaki had given him. He was only drinking the overly sweet drink to be polite and to have something to do with his hands.
“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki’s low voice with a current of concern broke through Yuta’s runaway train of thoughts, and he almost dropped his drink, his nerves felt so frayed and his focus so far away that being dragged back to the present felt like free falling off a three story building then hitting pavement.
“I’m fine!” The shakiness of his voice and the high pitch didn’t exactly sell that, so Yuta cleared his throat pointedly, painting his best reassuring smile on his face. “I’m nervous to be here. And for you? I know you’ve done this before but isn’t this kind of nerve wracking? Being so close and intimate with a stranger.”
Not that Yuta could pass judgment. Would he have felt better if his twisted curse had instead bound him to a stranger than to his childhood best friend? He fiddled slightly with the ring strung around his neck, frowning slightly at the thought.
“I know you’re very careful, but don’t you worry that something might happen?” After all, this sort of… act normally involved talking right? And sounds? He tried not to think too far down that pathway because he could already feel his face heating and it had little to do with the drink he held in one hand.
He glanced over when Inumaki held up his phone, though he couldn’t help but regret it immediately.
Inumaki’s profile tagline stated in bold letters ‘I MAY BE MUTE, BUT I CAN STILL MAKE YOU MOAN’.
Yuta jerked away as if he’d been struck, those words immediately burning into his brain. Well. Then. That answered quite a lot, perhaps too much. Yuta was sure he was going to remember it at the most inopportune moments. Along with Nobara’s advice, it rattled around in his skull, fueling part of his nervousness. Why had he insisted on coming here? He wouldn’t have barged in on a date that Maki and Nobara went on ( mostly because he was sure the two of them would dismember him handily ) and if presented the opportunity to tag along with Kinji and his dates, he would have probably declined without a second thought. So why did he feel like he needed to do this when it concerned Inumaki?
The answer was a large dark shadow that Yuta could see out of the corner of his eye, something that he had known before but like everything in his life, had become a curse. It could hurt those he cared about the most and Yuta would be helpless to stop it. While he had training now and knew how to wield it, it didn’t mean that he trusted it nor would he say he mastered it. If anything, acknowledging it just gave it more power and the last thing he wanted to do was to pile another restraining curse on Inumaki
Inumaki, who had been shackled by his abilities, who despite that was more conscientious and caring than anyone Yuta knew. Who went to great pains and lengths to make sure his curse never affected those it shouldn’t. No, Yuta wouldn’t want to add to that even if seeing the easy way that Maki and Nobara were together made him consider it. It was different for him, and he had resigned himself to shutting the door on those sorts of relationships. Maybe when hell froze over or sensei managed to get a girlfriend he might revise that decision, but for now it was safer for everyone if it was just him and Rika. He’d already done enough damage.
“Pickled mustard leaf?” Unlike before when it was just a hint of concern, Inumaki’s worry was palpable now as he nudged his shoulder against Yuta’s, breaking through Yuta’s thoughts before they could spiral faster and deeper.
“I really admire you.” When Inumaki’s brow furrowed in confusion, Yuta couldn’t help but laugh leaning closer into him as if to divulge a secret. “You always look after everyone and you’re not afraid to go after what you want. You have no shortage of courage or confidence or skills. I’m glad that we got to really know each other and that you trust me enough to let me tag along. I really appreciate what a good person you are.”
Inumaki’s eyes kept getting wider the longer Yuta went on, and his face started to get a little pink. It was hidden at first underneath his scarf, but it crept up to the bridge of his nose, Inumaki’s expression so different from his normal blase and unflappable one that Yuta was hopelessly charmed by it.
“Are you blushing?” He asked, delighted, leaning in even closer as Inumaki seemed to get ahold of himself and pulled his scarf further up his face, leaning away as if that might shield himself from Yuta’s eyes. “Just a few factual statements are enough to embarrass you? Hold on, I have to get a picture for Maki and Panda or they’ll never believe me-” He even went so far to get his phone out, laughing when Inumaki immediately tried to snatch his phone away. For once, Yuta was glad for his growth spurt, which he used to his full advantage for a few seconds before Inumaki was able to grab his phone from him.
The cursed speech user’s face was bright red, as he immediately shoved Yuta’s phone down his shirt to prevent him from getting it back, sending Yuta a fierce glare. The effect was of course ruined by how the blush had managed to creep to his ears, much to Yuta’s enjoyment.
“Salmon roe.” He hissed out venomously, and despite being sworn at, Yuta couldn’t help but laugh.
“You don’t have to call me names! I wasn’t going to take a picture.” But he was still definitely going to tell Maki and Panda because Inumaki had held the title of troll king for long enough uncontested that Yuta would take even the wisp of a victory over him in that arena.
“Pollock roe.” Inumaki followed up with particular feeling and enunciation, his ears still bright red. So Yuta could forgive the barrage of expletives, especially since they didn’t have any real heat.
Before he could tease Inumaki even further, the cursed speech user’s phone buzzed with a text notification. Yuta kept his gaze on Inumaki as he read the text, the color starting to seep from his face and ears despite the fact that Yuta was sure whatever was sent to him was filthier than anything Yuta had said.
“Is that him?” Yuta’s stomach dropped uncomfortably when Inumaki nodded, not meeting his gaze as he dug around in his shirt for Yuta’s phone. “I’ll wait at the cafe down the road. If anything happens, just text me and I’ll be here right away.”
He hadn’t meant to sound anxious or concerned, but he must have because Inumaki patted his hands as he handed back Yuta’s phone, warm and comforting. Even though it was probably silly to feel so many emotions over the small exchange, Yuta did his best to force them to the side to give Inumaki a supportive smile. Inumaki nodded once more, shoving his hands into his pockets as he got up and headed into the hotel without a second glance behind him.
Yuta was tempted to stay until he saw Inumaki’s date walk in too, but he wasn’t sure what that would accomplish. If Inumaki’s date stood him up, wouldn’t that be too embarrassing? Wouldn’t it be better if Inumaki told him that sort of thing of his own accord instead of Yuta snooping more than he already had?
So he had made his way down to the cafe, carefully deposited his can of hot milk tea into the recyclables bin, and ordered an iced tea. He had brought a book with him to help pass the time since any texts he might send to Maki or Panda would most likely be met with heavy handed teasing, but despite his best efforts, his mind kept wandering.
What would Inumaki’s date think about him when they met up? Would it be an instant attraction, or would they have to work up to it? How would Inumaki help get his date to feel more comfortable if he wasn’t as experienced in this sort of thing as Inumaki was? Or how would he approach it if they were both already well versed in these kinds of meet ups?
… Was Inumaki a good kisser?
Yuta felt his face immediately go red, and he held his book closer to his face as if to shield it from anyone who might be looking at him or as if it might help him focus more on it. But as soon as the thought had occurred, it wriggled around in his mind, impossible to catch and squash. Inumaki generally took great care of his throat and mouth for obvious reasons, and Yuta had made the mistake of asking earlier how Inumaki explained the snake tattoos on his cheek and on his tongue.
Inumaki had given him the flattest look for a few moments before putting two fingers on either side of his lush lips and doing two gestures so vulgar that it had answered the question without speech. No one would care about those tattoos because not only did it make Inumaki look far more erotic than should be allowed, but apparently his skill was so great that even if facial and tongue tattoos wasn’t something someone was inherently attracted to, his abilities would more than make up for it.
It felt like imaging Inumaki in that situation was crossing the line more than waiting with him outside of a love hotel for someone he was going to hook up with, but the scene hit him fully formed harder than a blow from a special grade curse. Inumaki with that small knowing smirk on his face before he dipped down between Yuta’s legs, his eyelashes as light and transparent as butterfly wings against his cheeks, his tattoos stark and dark against the paleness of his skin.
Yuta downed the rest of his drink and tossed it into the garbage along with such thoughts, tempted to leave the cafe and just sprint back to school. Anything to help him get away from such lewd thoughts, and only the thought of Inumaki finding himself in trouble was enough to keep Yuta where he was.
Forcefully, he instead made himself consider Nobara’s words, which were nagging at him almost as much as his previous train of thought. If she had asked him yesterday, Yuta would have said that his intentions were purely to look after Inumaki as a friend.
Today however… He had to admit it was curiosity, something that Inumaki didn’t seem to mind nurturing. While such a thing was a little unnerving to admit, he trusted Inumaki. In all the ways that mattered, he was considerate and would make sure Yuta didn’t feel uncomfortable. Inumaki would let Yuta ask as many silly questions as he needed and would let him set the pace. Most likely he also wouldn’t expect anything more from Yuta than he did the people he found on his normal dating site.
But just thinking of a one time fling seemed wrong, even if it was the safest way to deal with his curiosity. And if that was really his motivation, he could do what Inumaki was. Yet the thought didn’t sit right with him, and he had to be ruefully amused with himself for still being a romantic despite everything.
Well, that seemed to settle it then. Though he supposed the outward outcome was still the same, the motivation was different now. By acknowledging his curiosity and his fledgling desires, it made it easier to refute them with the knowledge that it wasn’t worth anyone’s safety for him to indulge them. It was an easy argument to make, and one that he had been making since Rika had manifested.
So when Inumaki sat down across from him at the cafe, his hair still a little wet from the shower he must have taken, Yuta didn’t let his gaze linger any longer than he would have if he was looking at Fushiguro or Todo.
“Hey! Have fun?” He paused, immediately realizing the implication before Inumaki even said anything, and he held up a hand to stop whatever response Inumaki had hidden in the corner of his smirk. Ever since he had copied Inumaki’s cursed speech first year, it seemed like he was able to understand as much nuance as perhaps even Inumaki’s family, which was helpful in everyday conversation but not when he didn’t want to hear the gritty details.“No, don’t tell me I don’t want to know. Ready to go home?”
Inumaki kept smiling as he teased Yuta about setting up an account on the dating site he used, the sky was clear, and they only ran into one low grade curse. It had been a nice and peaceful day spent making sure someone he cared for was happy and well. It was enough for now.
-------------------------------------
It definitely wasn’t enough.
Yuta found himself becoming distracted at the worst moments by Inumaki doing the most innocuous things (during training with Maki, eating, just walking to and from class). Yawning so that the top of his very pink and plush lip showed for a brief moment above his collar. Stretching so that a tantalizing strip of smooth skin showed between his jacket and pants. Falling asleep in class with his face turned towards Yuta, his light eyelashes fragile and near transparent against his face.
He found himself getting hit far more often than normal during training, dropping food into his lap, walking into walls, and one memorable time falling down an entire flight of stairs. Gojo-sensei had of course showed up right as Yuta came to a stop, holding up a sign with ‘10/10’ lovingly scrawled across it. It had gotten so noticeable that even Itadori had asked him if he was okay.
Which he definitely was! He’d held in way worse emotions and had dealt with experiences far more terrifying than finding one of his best friends irresistibly attractive. If his tried and true tactic of ignoring it wasn’t going to work, then he would meet it as head on as possible. He would look all he wanted but he wouldn’t do anything further! Anytime he felt himself wavering because of Inumaki’s soft and small smile, he would just have to remind himself of the fact that his execution order was only temporarily paused. When Inumaki went out on his dates, passing by Yuta’s room to wave as if to teasingly remind him of how he had insisted on going on one, Yuta just had to think of Rika and smile as he waved back.
If anything, Yuta was good at enduring and surviving impossible situations and odds. This was hardly any different.
Or at least it was, until Fushiguro caught sight of him in the hallways, looking more dejected and harried than usual. His eyes immediately widened upon seeing his favorite upperclassman (Maki never let him live it down), and the swift beeline he made towards him was so aggressive that Yuta’s knee-jerk reaction was to get into a defensive stance.
“Okkostu-senpai, you need to get out of here.” Fushiguro told him urgently, foisting a few quick glances around as if he was expecting an ambush at any moment. “Don’t ask any questions, just run.”
“Fushiguro, what’s wrong?” Yuta asked, allowing his underclassman to start pushing him down the hall, looking around with him as if he might spot whatever it was he was trying to warn him about. If it was a threat, surely they should go find the others to warn them too or at least try to defeat it together.
As they rounded the corner, Yuta had to quickly halt them both or else they’d run straight into sensei.
“Me~gu~mi~ thanks for bringing him to me!” Gojo-sensei trilled excitedly, the disgusted look on Fushiguro’s face betraying that it wasn’t his intention in the least. Ah, it must be Gojo-sensei training time then, which perhaps only Itadori and Maki enjoyed because they were battle maniacs who never shied away from a challenge in their lives.
Unlike say, Nanami-sensei who would train them by showing them a few forms or a few helpful techniques, then grade them on it with advice on how to improve, sensei was more hands on. Sensei’s training typically consisted of Gojo-sensei honing in on what you thought was your most well-hidden weakness then kicking at it repeatedly while cackling in between some light hearted mockery, which depending on your learning style, could be a bit difficult to handle. He did tend to be the harshest on Fushiguro, if only because he felt that Fushiguro should be well on his way to surpassing him instead of coasting. He was a lot better with Yuta, who while he may not particularly relish these sessions, trusted sensei implicitly and always found his critiques helpful.
“Sensei, I didn’t know you were back.” Yuta said politely, giving Fushiguro a pat on the shoulder for his efforts, but followed after Gojo-sensei dutifully as the taller man jerked his head to the side to indicate that Yuta should follow him to one of the training areas.
“I just got back from visiting Miguel! Remind me to give you souvenirs later.” Yuta shot his teacher an odd look, wariness settling over him with the weight of a grade two curse’s presence. While he couldn’t say that he was an expert in sensei’s moods or how his mind worked, Yuta knew enough that if sensei wasn’t teasing and handing out souvenirs first thing, it was serious. Last time he had talked to sensei and had to ‘remind him about souvenirs later’, sensei had asked him to keep an eye on Itadori and make sure the higher ups didn’t have him executed.
His dread only intensified when Gojo-sensei tossed him his sword out of seemingly nowhere, his posture relaxed and the wide grin on his face telling him absolutely nothing.
“How about we go all out today? It’ll be fun!” Gojo-sensei cheered, allowing him the courtesy of unsheathing his sword, but that’s where the pleasantries stopped. Normally, Gojo-sensei worked up to his particular brand of training. He would start at the level he knew that you were currently at, and then slowly dial up the difficulty as if to subtly push for you to follow in his footsteps and keep up with him. Most days, Yuta could keep up for a decent amount of time, but today it seemed like Gojo-sensei wasn’t interested in starting out slow and steady.
Yuta only managed to hang on for about an hour before his curse energy evaporated entirely, his throat torn apart from trying to use cursed speech a few times, Rika’s familiar and comforting weight banished as he fell to his knees. It took an unfathomable amount of effort to even keep his eyes open, sound the only sense that hadn’t abandoned him completely, so sensei’s words were louder and clearer than they would have been otherwise.
“You’ve gotten better, Yuta!” Gojo-sensei, the jerk, didn’t even sound winded. Yuta couldn’t even muster a laugh or a thumbs up even if he wanted to. “You still have a long way to go before you’re stronger than me, but you’ll get there! I know it.”
Here it was then, the source of dread that Yuta was feeling. The knowledge that he was one of the few that Gojo-sensei truly believed would become stronger than him, and the fear that came with it. Gojo-sensei, for all of his whimsy and flakiness, was dependable when one needed him the most. No matter how strong a curse was, Gojo-sensei was always stronger. There was a comfort in that, in knowing no matter what ultimately it wasn’t up to Yuta to defeat everything. Until it was.
“Though there are ways you’re already much stronger than me.” Yuta tried to open his eyes to turn to see Gojo-sensei, but his eyes and body refused to cooperate. It felt like a gentle breeze would be all it took to knock him out completely, but staying conscious for this felt extremely important. He clung onto staying upright like fingernails digging into the edge of a roof of a high top building. “You take care of your friends and your compassion for others is commendable. As someone who wants you to surpass me one day, I selfishly want you to focus only on training. But as your teacher, I don’t want you to make the same mistakes. Yuta, you’re allowed happiness. Our lives are too short not to steal it whenever and wherever we can. I want you to be able to say you were able to give a heartfelt smile at the bitter end.”
It was a good thing Yuta couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, because he was pretty sure it would ruin the moment, or rather, that the moment wouldn’t have existed otherwise. Gojo-sensei was terrible when it came to these things. Almost as terrible as he was at remembering birthdays or respecting Nanami-sensei’s personal space.
As if to prove Yuta right, he felt Gojo-sensei flick him on the forehead, snapping Yuta’s tenuous hold on consciousness.
---
Awareness came back to him slowly, the sound of birds singing the first thing he heard. The scratchy blanket underneath his hands let him know that he was in the school infirmary, the sharp scent of cleaning supplies tickling his nose confirming it. His mouth felt dry with the residual metallic taste of blood still clogging at the back of his throat.
When he opened his eyes, Inumaki was slumped in a seat next to him, his breathing slow and steady as he slept, the light lashes that haunted Yuta in his sleep near invisible in the warm sunlight. The sight was enough to make Yuta’s heart ache, his hand itching as if it might be able to write poetry or draw something that might be able to capture how handsome Inumaki was at the moment, at every moment he had been for as long as Yuta had known him. ‘You’re allowed happiness’ Gojo-sensei had said. ‘I don’t want you to make the same mistakes’ he had said wistfully, the grief and loneliness so palatable that it clung to Yuta’s throat more tangible than blood.
Was it better to make new mistakes then?
As if sensing Yuta’s eyes on him, Inumaki stirred, turning his full sleepy gaze to Yuta. “Kelp.”
It was a greeting and a dismissal of how terrible Gojo-sensei’s training was all in one, and when he withdrew his hand from his pocket, he held out a small container of throat medicine to Yuta. Some people would peel little apple rabbits or bring flowers, Yuta thought with a small smile, but of course Inumaki would be too practical for that. Maybe he’d make a romantic out of him, somehow.
Yuta accepted the medicine with a small nod of gratitude, gulping it down as he watched as Inumaki stretched languidly.
“Tuna mayo. Pickled mustard leaf.” Inumaki said, which told Yuta he’d been out for a few hours, Gojo-sensei had gone through the rest of them like tissue paper, and had dropped off a ton of useless souvenirs before disappearing. For whatever reason, Inumaki was one of the few who was still left standing after Gojo-sensei’s rampage, er, training, and once Yuta was done with the throat medicine, he also had some tea he had brewed to help with his throat.
Also that Yuta wasn’t allowed to use cursed speech so many times in a row or next time Inumaki would personally kick his ass, which got a rough laugh out of Yuta despite the circumstances.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Yuta said solemnly, allowing his hands to linger as Inumaki handed over a cup full of tea that he had poured from a thermos. Judging by the bags by his feet, he had a few more thermoses full and would make Yuta drink all of them before he let him out of his sight.
The real problem was that being with Inumaki was easy. The silences between them were comfortable, they had a solid understanding of each other, and he genuinely liked being in his company. No one could make him laugh more than Inumaki. And as embarrassing as it was to admit it, no one drew his eye like Inumaki either.
It was being apart that was difficult, and there was no telling when he might be sent abroad again for more training or for how long. That wasn’t even counting the near invisible guillotine blade of his execution, hanging over him with tenuous threads held mostly by Gojo-sensei.
‘Whatever you decide to do, make sure you know why you’re doing it.’ Ignoring what he was feeling for Inumaki was a fear response, Yuta scared to death that the same thing he had done to Rika he would do to someone else. But he was different now then he had been, and while he might not be as strong as Gojo Satoru, he could at least be braver. Less lonely. His strength and his ability to endure came from having people he loved and wanted to protect, not just from the immutable fact that he was the strongest.
So when Inumaki leaned forward to fill up his cup with more throat soothing tea, Yuta met his gaze without flinching.
“Hey, Inumaki. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Normally, the silence that followed would have sent Yuta into an anxious frenzy of apologies for completely misreading all the supposed signals that Inumaki was sending him, for listening to Nobara and Maki when clearly they were in their honeymoon fog, and for making things unbelievably awkward between them.
Instead, he got to watch from scarcely a few centimeters away as Inumaki’s face went from pale, to light pink, to deep red, his bright violet eyes wide and shocked. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if he was about to speak but then when he wasn’t able to source the proper ingredients to express himself, he gave up.
Only the cup overflowing and spilling hot tea on both of them jolted Inumaki out of his state, finally several choice curse word innuendo ingredients making their way out of his mouth. Yuta helpfully brought the cup to his lips to try to drink up more of the excess so it wouldn’t spill any further, not missing the way that Inumaki’s gaze was drawn to his lips before he seemed to get ahold of himself.
“Salmon cod roe.” Inumaki said in exasperation, which Yuta gathered basically meant something along the lines of ‘I was going to ask first, why did you take that away from me’ to ‘it took you long enough’.
“That’s not a yes,” Yuta wheedled, enraptured by how red Inumaki was getting and how close it was to reaching his ears which Yuta took to mean he could push a little further, “so is that a no? Am I going to have to watch reality TV with Nobara while eating ice cream and crying? Do you think Panda will feel bad enough for me that he’ll let me help with his miniatures again? Which one of us do you think Maki is going to hit for being stupid?”
Inumaki was red up to his ears before he finally clapped his hands over Yuta’s mouth, effectively quieting him. “Salmon.”
It was said so quietly that Yuta feigned not hearing it, tipping his head to the side quizzically, Inumaki finally whacking him lightly on the arm, but he was smiling as brilliantly as the sun as he did so.
“Salmon!”
“Oh good,” Yuta said, his heart going a thousand miles per minute and he was sure that his smile was just as wide as Inumaki’s, “so does this mean I’m allowed to go with you into a love hotel now or is that more of a third date sort of thing?”
He was still laughing when Inumaki attempted to smother him with a pillow, because even if the cursed speech user was at a loss for words, Inumaki never had difficulty conveying exactly what he wanted.