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there’s no denying that there’s something going on between itadori and fushiguro. from longing glances to lingering touches, it’s obvious that they want more, that there has to be something more. their hearts beat for one another, desperate and yearning for what could be; and yet, for some reason, fushiguro keeps denying it.
itadori doesn’t know why, but he hates it, he hates it more than anything. their longing glances become awkward look-aways, and their lingering touches leaves itadori yearning for just one second of fushiguro’s touch against his own. he needs more than this, and he knows fushiguro does too, he just won’t admit it.
there’s a lot of things fushiguro won’t seem admit. he won’t admit that he truly cares about gojo, he won’t admit that he treats his shikigami like pets, he won’t admit that he doesn’t value his own life, and now, he won’t admit that he feels as deeply as itadori does. itadori would hope that he admits with all them, but he needs to settle this first.
-
every now and then, fushiguro would hang out in the courtyard, smoking weed or just smoking in general. most people either don’t know or don’t care, but fushiguro couldn’t care less about who knows. itadori doesn’t like it, but he keeps quiet. he would like to think that fushiguro would listen to him if he told him to stop, but he knows that he won’t.
itadori doesn’t need to say a word for fushiguro to feel his presence, turning around to face him as smoke leaves his lips. he’s smoking a cigarette this time, a dim spark illuminating his face. itadori hates the smell, it burns his nose and his heart.
“hey,” itadori greets as he sits beside him on the stone staircase, only receiving a small nod from fushiguro. “how’s it going?”
“it’s going,” fushiguro answers, his words tired and heavy. “you?”
itadori hums, wishing he could restore the light in fushiguro’s eyes. “same as you, it’s going.”
it goes quiet for a bit, the sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting filling the air. the atmosphere between them feels suffocating, and itadori doesn’t know what to do about it all. after all, he’s only sixteen, what does he know? all he does know is that he loves fushiguro, and he can’t lose this, he can’t lose anything like this again.
“hey”- itadori gulps -”fushiguro?”
fushiguro blows out a puff of smoke, plaguing the air around them. “yeah?”
“what’s wrong with us?” itadori doesn’t know why he chose those words, but he doesn’t know what else to say. truly, what is wrong with them?
fushiguro just looks at him confused. “what do you mean?”
itadori sighs. “i mean, is there something bothering you about the two of us? you don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me, and i just- i don’t know what to do anymore.”
“i don’t- itadori, what are you talking about?” fushiguro gives him that same confused look, and itadori hates it.
with a stern gaze, itadori’s eyes pierce through fushiguro’s soul, hoping that for once, just once, he’s getting through to him.
“why won’t you be honest?” he asks, almost begging for an answer. “you know how i feel, and i know how you feel. i know that we’re young and our lives are hard, but i just- i don’t want to feel like i miss you when you’re right there, when you’re right next to me.”
itadori sighs again. “fushiguro, what’s wrong? why won’t you be honest?”
for a moment or two, it’s clear that itadori’s words had some kind of impact on him. but then he just looks away, going back to his cigarette. he looks sad, but he won’t show it to itadori.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, and it shatters itadori’s soul.
it’s cruel, it’s all so cruel. itadori’s hurt, he’s beyond hurt. fear is a powerful entity that constantly looms over him. but even so, he still loves fushiguro as if the fear were not real and here. tomorrow may be their last, but isn’t that more reason to love him endlessly?
itadori doesn’t know what to say or do or think, so he does what he can only think of doing.
taking fushiguro’s cigarette out of his mouth, he crumbles it between his fingertips. before fushiguro has the chance to argue, his lips meet itadori’s, enveloping him with his warm touch. it’s out of nowhere and itadori is sure that fushiguro doesn’t know how to process it; he just hopes he’ll get through to him.
fushigiro tastes like bitter, hot smoke, and itadori loathes the feeling against his tongue. it burns, scorching his skin, but even so, he kisses fushiguro deeper, giving all that he is to him. it lasts only for a second before itadori parts their lips, and he doesn’t know what to make of the expression fushiguro is wearing.
did he not like it? did he hate it? does he hate him? itadori can’t tell, so he speaks from his heart, from his soul that loves fushiguro so dearly.
“fushiguro, i know that our lives are hard,” itadori says, “and that even thinking about love is pointless. i mean, fuck, i’ve got a death sentence on my head, and it haunts me everyday. i don’t have much time left, none of us do.”
judging by fushiguro’s frown that just deepened, itadori can tell that his words aren’t helping with his argument, so he hurries onto his next point.
“which is why i want to spend the rest of it with you, loving you,” itadori continues, almost sounding like he was begging, “and i know you do too.”
fushiguro doesn’t respond, but his frown seems sadder this time. he’s less angry and more sentimental, secretly wishing for more. itadori knows that look all too well, he wears it more than he would like. it’s painful, but he endures it, he endures it for fushiguro.
“i know that it’s hard to admit, to accept''- itadori gently places his hand over fushiguro’s -”but it would mean the world to me if you did. if i could hear it from your mouth, i would cherish those words til the end of time.”
itadori is sure that fushiguro knows what words he’s talking about, but that doesn’t mean he’ll say them just because he asked.
“itadori, it’s not worth it.” fushiguro finally spoke, but it’s not what itadori wanted to hear.
“says who?” he said back almost immediately.
fushiguro scoffs, his eyes growing tired. “everything. it’s like you said, our lives are hard and we don’t have much time. it’s not worth it.”
“how is it not worth it?!” itadori doesn’t mean to sound angry, but he doesn’t understand. why does fushiguro keep running away? “if it’s worth it to us, shouldn’t that be all that matters?”
“it’s not that simple, itadori,” fushiguro dismisses, almost offended that he should even be clarifying this. “if everything is against us, then what’s the point?”
itadori doesn’t understand. “like what?”
“just everything, everybody,” fushiguro repeated as he lit another cigarette, “the world, time, the stupid fucking cursed spirits we fight everyday.”
hot smoke left his lips, and itadori couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss or slap the shit out of him.
“what does that have to do with anything?!” itadori shouted, losing all his senses. he was angry, he was hurt, he loved too much. “why does any of that matter?”
fushiguro started to get angry too. “it matters because nothing in this fucking world wants us together! not the sun, not the moon, not even the fucking stars!-”
“but i do!” itadori shouted with his entire soul and heart. “i do, i want us together, so why does anything else fucking matter?! i love you, shouldn’t that be enough?!”
between heavy pants and hurt gazes, itadori watched as fushiguro recoiled in a fear-adjacent shock. he looked uncomfortable, itadori didn’t mean for that to happen.
he didn’t like how he looked in fushiguro’s eyes, scary and angry. that wasn’t who he was, and it definitely wasn’t who he wanted to be for fushiguro. but for a split second, he saw a dim light in fushiguro’s dark-as-night eyes, resembling a beautiful star. it shined bright like love, and itadori hoped that what he saw was real and pure.
he hoped he could be fushiguro’s star, illuminating the path to a better life, giving him the life and love he deserves. fleeting but loving, itadori wished only the best for fushiguro; maybe, if fate would allow them, he could be the best for fushiguro, or at least, just enough for him.
“fushiguro,” itadori said, his voice pleading and begging, “why won’t you just admit it? what more do i have to say for you to understand just how much i care for you?”
fushiguro’s mouth opened, then closed, his eyes full or worry and anxiety. he looked like he was about to cry, and itadori wanted to cry with him.
“i’m scared,” fushiguro finally confessed, even though itadori already knew. “i’m so scared, itadori, i’m so fucking scared.”
“i know,” itadori said softly as he held fushiguro’s hand, “i know, and i am too.”
he placed his hand over his chest, his heart beating and racing. it was beating for fushiguro, itadori was living for fushiguro.
“but i still want to be with you,” itadori said softly, his eyes never leaving fushiguro’s. “no matter how scared i am, i’m willing to take on life and death for you because i love you. the fact that i’m scared tells me that it’s real. you mean everything to me, fushiguro, truly.”
itadori hoped that just this once, his words would finally get through to him.
letting go of fushiguro’s hand over his heart, itadori watched as it dropped to his side. fushiguro didn’t react or respond, his eyes wide and full of stars. finally, after a few painfully tense seconds, fushiguro reached for itadori’s hand, his body fear-ridden and lovestruck. it was a gentle and quiet gesture, but it meant everything to itadori.
“ok,” fushiguro finally said, his porcelain skin flushing red in the pale moonlight. he didn’t say those three magic words, but he didn’t need to. itadori knew how shy fushiguro was, and this itself was enough to tell itadori that fushiguro did love him, as much as he loved him. so even if fushiguro wouldn’t say it, itadori would say it enough for the two of them.
“i’ll try my best,” fushiguro added, his face burning even redder. itadori couldn’t help but admire how beautiful fushiguro’s dark eyes held his reflection. it was so kind, so loving, so perfect. it said everything fushiguro couldn’t say.
itadori softly smiled and chuckled. “that’s all i ask for.”
and it really was. itadori didn’t need the world to cheer for them as they smiled, he didn’t need the fabric of time and space to abide by their wishes, and he certainly didn’t need some perfect, fairytale-life to love fushiguro. itadori didn’t need anything. all he needed and wanted was fushiguro, and he had him, itadori had him.
maybe the stars didn’t want them together, but itadori did, and so did fushiguro; so did fushiguro.