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He still wears the ring.
Of course he does; after all, he promised Rika they'd see each other again in the afterlife.
Toge should be surprised that that's the first thing he notices when he sees Yuta again as Gojo-san cheerfully announces his return with a grin and a dramatic splay of his arms. "Tada!"
The others shout their excitement. Panda hugs him, Maki claps him on the back, and Toge repeats the same word over and over in his mind: Kelp. Kelp. Just say kelp.
"Kelp," he says aloud once it's his turn, lifting a hand in a simple greeting, his expression as impassive as always although he feels warmth on his cheeks at the way Yuta grins.
"Hey to you, too," he says.
Toge's drawn to the way Yuta smiles. He's drawn to the way he talks and holds himself. He's a reassuring presence the same way Maki, Fushiguro, Panda, and the others are. Toge sits beside him during lunch and dreams of the things they'd talk about if only he had the words. Instead he observes, as he always does, and drops salmon and bonito flakes into the appropriate points in the conversation.
For once, he's envious that he isn't a better conversationalist. Spending much of his life introverted and quiet is usually fine, but in moments like this when he feels so restricted by an ability that he must use to fight evil, he's powerless to even say something as simple as "I like you."
I like him.
It shouldn't come as that much of a surprise. Yuta's kind, attentive, and powerful. He's easy to work with as one of the few people who understand Toge's eccentric way of speaking. And they're friends.
He asks Toge how to use his cursed speech effectively with a series of yes or no questions that Toge eagerly answers. Yuta gives him candies and cough drops while goading Toge into doing vocal exercises with him.
When Gojo sends him out on missions, Toge always crosses his fingers that Yuta will be there. They have synergy, a way of doing things that works to both of their strengths. Much to Toge's joy, this means they often are paired together. Yuta delegates and Toge (and Rika) fight at his side. Their enemies survive only a few minutes, if they manage even that long.
(They often don’t.)
Things just make sense with Yuta. He reads Toge's mind as though it's clear as crystal, even when Toge hasn't completely made it up yet. The more time they spend together, the more Toge wonders if Yuta knows that he likes him. Yuta is a widowed(?) man. A man whose heart already belongs to a girl he will probably meet again in the afterlife, if such a thing exists.
And knowing Toge's luck, he's probably straight.
It's such a classic thing for the universe to do to him, dangling something he can't have in front of him. Good thing, then, that Toge's already long learned how to tolerate the draw of unattainable wants.
The fights have been getting more difficult lately. Or maybe just too many in short succession. On a usual day, Toge doesn't scream his throat hoarse anymore. He doesn't spit up jarringly large puddles of blood, much to the relief of his classmates.
But one day, when he wakes, he can't find his voice. He has to resort to writing notes explaining the situation to the others.
He’s condemned to bed rest until they can get Ieiri-san to check on him. In the meantime, Toge spends the day reading collections of haikus and exercising everything but his voice. Once Ieiri-san visits the next day, she declares that Toge is down with the common cold and it’s not curse related. It's too much repeated use of his voice, which means he needs more rest, resulting in the other exercise being disallowed. Yuta comes to visit with even more candies and cough drops.
Today, he arrives carrying a small paper bag.
"I brought something extra special today," he says, placing it in Toge's lap.
Toge can't resist his curiosity. He looks at it with a tilt of his head; Ieiri-san still doesn't want him speaking.
"I've heard it's your favorite," Yuta continues.
Toge opens the bag and smiles. The onigiri is wrapped in butcher paper but Toge recognizes it by shape alone. His hands roam over it as he peels the paper away.
"Tuna mayo onigiri!" Yuta says. "Though a part of me has to wonder if that's really your favorite or if maybe you can't say what actually is."
Salmon, Toge wants to say, though he doesn't want to hurt his throat. Or be confusing. Instead, he nods.
"Yeah, that's what I figured," Yuta says.
Yuta pulls the other onigiri out and they eat.
...Or more like Toge eats and Yuta watches. After a few seconds, Toge pauses.
"Hm?"
"Sorry. It's just... The only time I see your mouth is when you fight, and to be honest, any time that's happening I've never really had the time to focus on anything but the enemy. But you have really pretty lips."
Toge's first instinct is to cover his mouth to keep from being stared at any longer. Despite that, though, he feels his cheeks flare.
"Sorry, I know it's weird," Yuta says. "Forget I said anything."
"Tsunamayo," Toge blurts out.
It's okay, I understand.
Despite the shortened syllables, they still scrape his throat and come out as a faint whisper.
"Ah, thank you," Yuta says. "I'll try not to say anything weird next time."
"Mnn," Toge hums, attempting to sound dejected, as his shoulders slouch and he turns back toward his onigiri.
Is it weird? Liking others of the same gender doesn't matter to him. He's had crushes throughout his life and though they've always been private feelings that fizzle out over time, they are not weird. It is not weird to desire the touch of someone you like. It only matters that the other person allows it; Toge would never want to force his feelings on someone who is already spoken for.
"I noticed that your hair's changed. Have you been letting it grow out? Either way, it looks nice on you."
Yuta's still talking, and this time, the words leave Toge lightheaded. Heat rises up the sides of his cheeks and burns his ears. He’d paused mid-bite and he's so disarmed that he closes his teeth around nothing. He breaks from his shocked staring to put the onigiri down and bring his hand up to his mouth to conceal the quivering line of his embarrassed smile.
He really doesn't know what to do with compliments. If Yuta keeps going like this, he has no idea how he's going to handle it.
"I did better that time, didn't I?" Yuta asks.
He sounds hopeful. But for what, Toge isn't sure. Regardless, he nods and Yuta smiles.
"I'm glad," Yuta says.
Toge hums again. A hand goes to the back of his neck, tamping the heat that rises and makes his ears itch. He doesn't know how to make it stop. They're just friends. The compliments don't need to mean anything.
Yuta returns to his rice ball with new vigor, the smile resting more genuinely on his lips, as Toge tries to calm the trembling of his heart by sucking in slow, quiet breaths. He catches Yuta's subtly upturned eyebrows and sends him a halfhearted smile before returning to his onigiri, too. He's not often one for smiling, is he?
His voice comes back the next day.
It's faint and still hurts, but it's there, which is more than he can say of yesterday. He's not coughing or feeling lethargic, so he takes his chances and has lunch outside while he watches the others train. Yuta sneaks away to sit beside him, muttering things to him about missions he's been on recently or new things he has learned. Toge pulls out his phone and writes him messages on what he thinks about this and that, anything he finds interesting.
"Hey! Yuta! Do you plan to train with us or are you going to gossip with Toge all afternoon?" Maki shouts from the field. "And Toge, shouldn't you be resting inside?"
"Huh?" Yuta asks.
He only manages the single syllable before Panda barrels toward the bleachers with a leg outstretched, aimed for Yuta's head. The stands shake as they ram into the seats along the back and Toge whips his head over to see a puff of dust kicked up by the weight of their tussling.
Toge sighs and his head sinks deeper into the scarf wrapped around his neck. He thought his power was sturdier than letting something like a cold knock it completely out. But if that's the case, then yes, maybe he should be more careful and rest inside.
He tucks his phone into his pocket and slinks back into the building. It's so boring doing nothing except watching Youtube but maybe he can find a longer form video to keep him occupied until it's time for dinner.
It's only once Toge reaches the hall to his room that he feels the vibration of a pair of feet thumping along the floorboards. He turns and finds Yuta there, slightly out of breath, his eyes glued to his so strongly it sends a tingle down his spine.
"Hey, sorry," Yuta says. "I meant to ask earlier, is it okay if I borrow one of your scarves? It's been getting colder out and I'm sure you own a few, right?"
"Salmon," Toge says.
"Great, thank you!"
Yuta bows and Toge opens the door to his room, closing it behind him once they’re inside. Toge approaches the closet and Yuta slips away to sit on the bed. He studies the room he's seen a dozen times before as Toge picks out some scarves he thinks Yuta might like and drops them onto the bed between them.
"How do you usually wear your scarves?" Yuta asks. "Are they clasped somewhere around the back?"
"Salmon," Toge says as he sits down.
He pulls the scarf back and drops it into his lap. Yuta watches as he picks it back up and flings it at the lower section of his face, pulling either side of the scarf back toward his spine.
"That's a much simpler approach than what I was expecting," Yuta says. "I thought you did something more intricate."
"Bonito flakes."
"I could show you a different way to wear it that's maybe warmer."
"Salmon," Toge croaks as he pulls the scarf away once more.
"Like this," Yuta says.
He doesn't wait for Toge to pull his hands away. His fingers brush against Toge's, warm but calloused, gently tugging the scarf away from his throat. Toge stares at Yuta's averted gaze and the way his pale skin warms in the afternoon sunlight.
Is this a touch that a friend would make?
Toge evens his breathing as Yuta lifts his scarf and places it back down around his shoulders. He's gentle, and slow, almost painfully so. Once Yuta's started to fold the scarf into a knot near Toge's left ear, they lock eyes and Yuta avoids his gaze.
"Sorry, it's kinda embarrassing, huh?" he asks.
"Bonito flakes," Toge says.
No. It's fine.
"If you say so."
Yuta finishes and lowers his hands. He folded it sensibly, just a simple loop with the ends trailing over the front of his chest. It's something that would be fine for wearing out in public but would be annoying to fight with. Toge would prefer the ends be tucked into the back of his jacket if he could really help it; he doesn't like thinking what might happen if someone were to pull on them.
After a second of hesitation, Yuta says, "You look cute," and diverts his gaze away again.
Cute?
Toge's jaw drops open. Nobody's ever called him cute before. But it's not an unwelcome word; in fact, coming from Yuta, it's a dream come true. And the way he's looking— it might just be confirmation bias, but Toge thinks there's something to it.
"Rice," Toge whispers.
"I'm not sure what that one means," Yuta says.
Toge doesn't know, either. Does he feel gratitude? Embarrassment? He's not sure. He just knows that when he looks at Yuta, the butterflies in his stomach go rampant.
"Could you… tell me what it means?" Yuta whispers.
He leans in and Toge's heart pounds against his ribcage.
"Kiss me," he whispers.
Yuta's lips are on his in an instant.
It's not a very good kiss. The air's been knocked out of his lungs, his hands are suddenly sweaty, and it feels like the world is spinning even though he's sitting down. Yuta pulls away first, his eyes wide.
Toge needs to say something. Sorry or Wow or anything. But by the time he's thought he's settled on something from his limited vocabulary, he hears the door open and sees Gojo's bright white head in the threshold.
"Heeeey, hope I wasn't interrupting a personal moment or anything," he says with a casual wave. "Yuta, could I borrow you for a moment?"
Yuta whips his head back to Toge, who nods. "Okay, sure."
Yuta stands and leaves the room, though he pauses to throw his gaze back to Toge one last time.
Once the door closes again, Toge heaves a strained sigh.
Rika's going to kill me when I see her again.
The thought brings a shudder down his spine as he brings his fingertips to his tingling lips.
Toge can't tell if the words he'd uttered had really been powerful enough to make Yuta move against his will or if Yuta had made the decision on his own. He's a powerful jujutsu sorcerer; surely he could resist two whispered words, right? But he had moved so quickly, as if he'd been told to do it.
All that Toge is really sure of is that Yuta hasn't spoken to him and has hardly looked at him since it happened. It's only been two days; though Toge's back on his feet again, any missions he's gone out on have not involved him working with Yuta.
He ultimately decides to leave Yuta alone and apologize when he finds a good opportunity. Toge should take responsibility for what he did. But also not bother Yuta with it too much if he would rather pretend it had never happened.
It never happened.
Toge thinks he could live with that. After all, Yuta's been such a wonderful friend to him. Maybe things will get busy again and they will get too carried away fighting to even worry about it anymore.
That's not how he really feels, but it's better that he swallow this bitter pill as quickly as possible before it has a chance to turn into some seed of hope.
He will do it in person over text message, as much of an oxymoron as that sounds. And then it will be over and Toge won't have to spend another sleepless night wracked by the guilt of forcing a kiss upon someone who only ever thought of him as a friend.
"Hey, do you have a sec to talk?"
Yuta's eyebags are more pronounced than usual. He catches Toge by the side of the school while he's splashing water over his face. Toge straightens up and zips up his collar to conceal his mouth.
"Salmon," he says.
Yuta leads him into the building and down the hallway toward his room. With each footstep they take, Toge's heart thuds against his ribcage. He's already a man of few words. Despite how much he thought he was prepared for this conversation, will he have the words for it?
"You can sit wherever," Yuta says when they make it to his room.
Toge picks out a corner of his bed and sits down. He rests his hands on his knees and stares as Yuta closes and locks the door.
"I wanted to talk about what happened the other day, if that's alright," Yuta says.
"Salmon," Toge says, giving a firm nod.
"Good." The mattress sinks with Yuta's weight as he sits down. "I guess I should start by saying that I've never had this sort of conversation with someone before, guy or otherwise. When Rika and I made our promise, we were just kids. I hadn't even had my first kiss yet."
Guilt plummets to the bottom of his stomach.
"Mustard leaf," Toge says. I didn't mean it. Or — I did, but not like that. I shouldn't have taken that from you.
"It's okay," Yuta says. "I was going to encounter this problem eventually anyway. I'm glad it's with you."
"Salmon?" Toge asks. Yeah? Really?
"Yeah. With Rika gone, I'd have to move on eventually, right?" He asks. But when he speaks, he plays with the ring on his finger. It tugs at Toge's conscience and constricts his throat like a cord pulled taut. "At least, I considered it a possibility. And I've been drawn to you lately. Curious, or something. I don't know."
"Rice," Toge mutters just above a whisper. He says it with what he hopes is obvious introspection. He supposes this is his word for affection given it was the unrecognized phrase that had led to his yearning command last time.
"Oh, uh, did you want to?" Yuta asks.
"Mustard leaf." Only if last time wasn't too far. Only if it's okay.
"Are you worried about last time?"
"Salmon."
"I wanted to do it. Did you?"
"Salmon," Toge blurts.
He drops a hand onto Yuta's knee and leans forward. His eyebrows close down around his eyes in fierce enthusiasm and Yuta laughs, absent of any of the nervousness he'd expected.
"I've never had someone use cursed speech on me like that before. It felt like being pulled along on a fishing hook. It didn't really hurt, although it felt... tingly. I probably could have broken away if I'd focused enough, but I didn't want to."
He didn't want to. He wanted it.
"Salmon." Good. I'm so relieved.
"Rika's not here to tell us no or threaten your life. It's okay. You weren't the only one who wants this."
Toge breathes in evenly. That says nothing about the larger scope of their relationship but it's enough for now. It's enough to tide him over for an evening, because at least he knows that the touch is desired.
"You won't hurt me," Yuta says. "If that's what you're worried about."
He's still a special-grade sorcerer— even more competent than he was before, too. There's no reason for Toge to pause like he does, studying how Yuta's form has changed and matured since he's been away.
Except that he's attracted and feels the attraction bubble up inside him. His palms are sweaty again and he wets his lips as the hand from before squeezes Yuta's knee.
This is happening. It's real.
Toge closes the distance between them and kisses Yuta. It's a chaste thing, just a peck on his lips, really. Yuta follows one with another and soon they're slotting their lips together and tilting their heads to do something that feels a thousand times more comfortable.
I should pull away. I should let him breathe.
Despite Toge's growing concern for the risk of there being some sort of discomfort between them, Yuta makes no indication he feels the same. Strangely, after a while, Toge feels the tingling sensation Yuta had told him of before.
Yuta pulls away first and smiles. Toge just stares, unsure even of what expression he's making. He probably looks ridiculous.
A dream come true... A part of him still can't believe it's real.
Yuta places a finger on Toge's cheek and traces the shape of Toge's tattoos before drawing the fingerpad over his lips. His skin is so warm, it catches Toge's cheeks aflame.
"You have such beautiful lips."
Toge opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
No one has ever touched his cursed markings like that before. With a gentle reverence, slow and pensive like he means to savor it.
"Ah..." Toge bumbles, but he's sure that the part of his brain responsible for coherent thought— all of it, presumably— is completely fried.
Yuta closes the distance between them, and this time, when their lips touch, Toge opens his mouth. No part of him has consciously decided to do it. It has just felt natural.
The shock he feels when their tongues touch makes him flinch. Yuta laughs and lays a reassuring hand on the top of his thigh. He wants this, and so Toge will satisfy the desire.
Probably no one expected two cursed speech users to French kiss. It explains the current of electricity that runs between them with every movement. Yuta's mouth is much smaller than Toge expected. There's his teeth, which Toge keeps knocking into by accident, and the tongue, which feels so wet and warm and prickled with little sparks of pain. Yuta hums approvingly whenever another pulse consumes them with all-body chills.
A thumb digs into Toge's cheek again where his markings are and he lets out a cry. He doesn't expect the sound to come out so feeble and desperate.
This is bad. I don't want him to stop. I want more.
Toge wants to kiss him until he loses his voice again. He wants to be brave enough to trace Yuta's lips with his fingers, too, and whisper little meaningless things to him.
"Toge, please," Yuta groans once they part.
They're still sitting on the edge of Yuta's bed. Toge draws his legs up and grabs Yuta by his shoulders. Yuta's eyes go wide as Toge pushes him into the mattress and sits to straddle his hips.
"Mustard leaf?"
Yuta answers him by tugging him down with his hand coiled around his scarf.
"Kiss me," Yuta whispers with a smug smile.
Toge feels the power of his cursed speech zip through him with a jolt. He moves propelled by a bright rush of desire, messily shoving their lips together before he has even fully processed what's happening. There's more tongue and tousled hair and hands curling tightly into uniforms. Toge closes his eyes and he's swept away from time, focused only on pouring as much of his affection into Yuta as possible.
He feels so weightless, as though someone's grabbed the scuff of his neck and lifted him. He opens his eyes and finds Yuta swapping their places, tipping him onto his side. It's his turn for his head to hit the pillow and his hands to press against Yuta's chest.
Yuta peppers the corner of his mouth with kisses and smooths his palm over Toge's scalp as he combs his hair. Toge's lungs empty of air and he feels the faint burn of breathlessness.
"Moondust," Yuta whispers.
Toge doesn't know what it means. But he has a clue with the way Yuta's fingers play with his hair.
He sucks in another breath and kisses Toge again. He's talking now between kisses and Toge's turning numb under his touch. It's so soft in his bed, though sparks still rush through his mouth.
"...Bit like a jellyfish sting," Yuta's saying.
The bliss of his affection dulls the pain. Toge tugs Yuta to him again, brushing his tongue across his lips. It feels gross, but it gets the message across, and Yuta leans in to kiss him deeply again.
How long must they have lain there, touching each other's hair and slender arms and blushing cheeks? How many times do they shock each other with their cursed energy until it becomes just as faint as the gentle wind tapping at Yuta's window? Could Toge ever tire of the novel thoughts and feelings that scatter his mind until he almost forgets completely where he is?
It must have only been a few minutes, if even that long. Their ministrations are finally interrupted by Yuta pulling away first. Toge's tongue's gone dry and his lips swell. He's sure he looks like a mess.
"You're bleeding," Yuta says.
He smacks his lips once and feels iron in the back of his throat. Suddenly, his skin feels so cold.
"Tsunamayo," Toge reassures. It's not your fault. I'm okay.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. Sorry."
"Bonito flakes," Toge says. He shuffles into a sitting position and Yuta moves back to make room for him. His head spins; he places a hand on Yuta's shoulder to steady himself. "Tsunamayo."
It's okay. Any fault is mine.
"It's probably for the best that we stop for now anyway," Yuta says. "Cursed speech is all you have. It isn't fair of me to send you to a sickbed again."
"Salmon," Toge says. Okay. A mix between resigned and dejected.
"It's okay." Yuta pecks the corner of Yuta's mouth again. "Maybe we can do something else next time."
Toge sighs and Yuta frowns.
"It's okay."
"Salmon."
Toge holds his hand for a second then lets go. It was fun. His nerves are still buzzing at the feel of Yuta's tongue on his. Like jellyfish stings, just as he'd said.
He doesn't know any way to make it easier. Once he refines his power more, once they've done it enough, maybe he won't even notice the pain anymore. He almost hadn’t this time; he probably could have gone much longer before even realizing his mouth had fallen off, pulled in by the siren song of his attraction.
Toge slips into his bathroom and rinses with salt water that burns as he spits it out. He stares at himself in the mirror, studying the still-boyish curve of his jaw, not yet hardened enough with time to make him feel like a proper man. He looks at the askew strands of hair across his forehead and the pink blooming on his pale cheeks. He didn't know he was so easy to read but it makes sense given how white as a sheet he usually is.
He touches his curse marks and sticks his tongue out, revealing the mark stamped there. He closes his mouth again and makes a face. What does Yuta find so attractive about such a thin pair of chapped lips? Maybe to someone who was not born studying curses, it's "cool" or "interesting." But Toge snorts at the prospect of it being something anyone would ever find "sexy."
Over dinner, Maki squints at Toge. He relaxes his posture and plucks grains of rice out of his bowl to chew, attempting to ignore her in the hopes she loses interest, but of course she does not.
"Something's not right with you," she says.
"Mustard leaf?"
"Are you sure your mouth has healed?"
"Salmon."
"Then why is there pink in your rice?" Maki asks with an accusatory point of her chopsticks.
"Bonito flakes." No reason.
Across the table, Maki's eyes land on Yuta. "You've been spending a lot of time with him lately. Do you know what it's about?"
"He probably just cut his tongue on something he ate," Yuta says.
"Salmon."
"Don't push yourself too hard," Panda says. "Make sure you're eating well! No spicy foods until you're better."
"Salmon."
He doesn't need to be coddled like a child, but it's not like their concerns are unfounded. Toge glances over the table and catches Yuta's gaze. This time, he's the first one to break away from his eyes. It's not his fault that kissing him feels so... euphoric, despite its drawbacks.
"You know, you're not as secretive as you might think you are."
Gojo-sensei's sprawled across a lawn chair, his head tipped back to stare at the bright, searing blue sky. He folds his arms behind his head and kicks one leg over the other. It's a lazy summer day, enough to lower other people's defenses, but not Toge's.
What do you know?
It's a curious question. Not planted in defensiveness or resentment. It's confusion, befuddlement that he even knew that there was something hidden in the first place.
"I know how it feels, having a power that makes it difficult to get close to people. Literally."
There's an unexpected undertone of grief in the last word. It gives Toge a second of pause. But he plows ahead anyway.
That won't stop me. I'll just get stronger.
"I don't doubt that. You're a very talented sorcerer, after all. But you have to consider the other person's feelings, too. You can't help that you have this power. But you are responsible for how it's used."
I'm not hurting anyone.
"You're hurting yourself." Gojo turns to face him and lowers his sunglasses, revealing a sliver of bright eyes. "What are you without your power, really?"
I'm a sorcerer.
Toge wakes with a headache. He pulls himself out of bed and washes up before approaching the door. When he opens it, Gojo's standing on the other side with one of his million-dollar smiles stretched across his lips.
"Goood morning! You're looking a little rough. I know just the thing to cheer you up! What about a mission with Yutaaa?"
He stretches the last word out, letting it dangle and chime in Toge's ears. Just like telling a dog he's about to go on walk.
"Salmon," Toge says.
"Great. Right this way."
Despite how eager Toge is to work with someone just like him, the truth is he could not be more different than Yuta. Yuta's not just a cursed speech user; he has numerous tools in his arsenal, some even that Toge has never seen until they appear randomly in a fight.
Their enemy this time is not very strong, although it is quick and intelligent. It's not a frequent feeling, but sometimes, Toge worries that he only gets in the way. Yuta would never say so to him, he knows. It's just a feeling.
But this time, the feeling is warranted. The cursed spirit tricks Toge into a trap, its centipede-like arms coiled around his middle with two large hands sprouted out of its stomach to grip Toge's head tightly enough that one twist would be enough to snap his neck. Yuta attacks it with an unfettered ferocity that Toge's never seen unleashed before.
Yuta winds up soaked in blood from cleaving the creature in two, shedding blood across asphalt, painting his face red with it. He helps Toge out of the disembodied arms that hang around his uniform.
"Are you okay?" Yuta asks, his eyebrows knitted up in worry.
Toge finds himself shaking less from the fear of being killed and more from the overwhelming scattering of other emotions surging through him. Relief, shock, fear. Love.
"Salmon," he says, and Yuta crushes him in a hug.
"I will never let anyone touch you like that again."
Yuta strokes the back of his head comfortingly as the color slowly returns to his cheeks. This is how it feels to love someone so fiercely you'd do anything to protect them. To have someone who cares about you so much, they'd turn the world to ashes for you.
He'd heard of such things in romance stories but never could have imagined he'd be the object of such feelings.
What did he ever do to deserve them?
Their relationship does not change overnight the way Toge expects it to. Yuta still mostly feels like a friend, sharing the same conversations over lunch and dispatching enemies with the same cool countenance. Toge craves his touch, some way to solidify their attraction into something more concrete and tangible. Lately, though, he can’t manage to get Yuta alone. It has indeed gotten busier lately, but no longer in the way Toge wants.
Yuta's started building distance between them. Toge thought after the second kiss that they could only grow closer, but aside from missions and meals, they don't see much of each other. Toge will catch his gaze when passing by each other and always Yuta looks away first with a sort of guilty twist to his eyebrows.
Toge catches Yuta by his wrist one day as they're passing each other in a hallway, earning him a befuddled glance.
"Salmon roe," Toge says. We need to talk.
"Okay," Yuta answers, and they stalk the hallway down to Toge's room.
Tuna. Spicy cod roe. Mustard leaf. Rice. Said altogether, it probably sounds like gibberish. But Yuta's collected his hands in his lap and listens with a seemingly genuine focus. Toge attempts to lay out his feelings as clearly as possible, which isn't actually that clear at all, but there must be enough emotion in his voice to compensate for it.
I'm worried that you've been avoiding me. I want to know what I am to you. If you don't want to be with me, that's okay. Please say so.
I hate waiting for impending rejection, he thinks, the one unspoken feeling he doesn't utter.
"I'm sorry," Yuta says. "The way I've been ignoring you isn't fair. And it's not because I haven't wanted to see you. It's because I spoke to Gojo recently, and..."
"Roe," Toge utters, not without some bitterness.
"I'm going back to Africa."
The weight in his stomach hurts, pulling his vocal cords tight and slumping his shoulders. Toge sighs and reaches for Yuta's hand.
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything."
"Salmon. Tuna?"
"In about a week."
"Mustard leaf?" When were you going to tell me?
"I wanted to tell you tomorrow, or the day after. I'm sorry."
"Salmon."
"I'll text all the time," he says hopefully.
But it isn't the same.
"Rice?" What about us?
"I don't know," he admits.
Toge had scenes he'd been playing through his head every day. How the conversation was supposed to go when they agreed to a relationship. How it would feel to hold his hand in public and what sort of expressions Maki and Panda would make once the relationship was announced. How he'd see it change and grow over time, from something cute and tentative to something that felt as comfortable as breathing.
Now he just feels like a fool. Is that what Gojo had talked to him about the other day?
"Gojo already told the others. I wanted to be the one to tell you myself."
Toge nods.
"But we could still date! I want to date you. It would be an honor to call you my boyfriend, if you'd still allow me that."
It's not the dramatic, drawn-out discussion Toge had dreamt it would be. But the part of him that's always dreamed to hear such words still flutters warmly at the prospect of it. He hasn't been betrayed or manipulated. Yuta may have kept something from him but it's not worth clinging bitterly to when there is so little time still left to enjoy it.
Does Toge wish Yuta had told him sooner? Yes, yes of course. But they still have this, and it's still something, isn't it?
"Yuta," Toge says.
Toge looks at him. He slips his hand up to cup Yuta's cheek in his palm and closes the distance between them. His kiss is languid and teasing to make up for all of those that Yuta won't get to have in the future. It's all that Toge has dreamt of for days, what it would feel like, taste like.
How much it would hurt.
Surprisingly, it doesn't at all. And it tastes like taro. His confusion and surprise rapidly fades, replaced by a simple relief that they're kissing at all.
They pull apart quickly as Yuta sighs.
"I really am sorry."
"Salmon."
It's not like it matters now. Toge would forgive him for much worse. It just matters that he knows and what he plans to do with the information. (Sulk, mostly.)
Toge doesn't know what to say. A teasing part of him wonders how Yuta would interpret words that have no meaning, phrases cobbled together that would usually mean something if only there were some intent behind them instead of him being speechless the way he is now.
"Please say something," Yuta says.
"Mustard leaf." I'll miss you.
It's really the only thing he can say aside from some general feelings of hurt. It will be fine; he'll live. He just doesn't expect to be happy for a while.
"I'll miss you, too."
"Bonito flakes? Spicy cod roe?" Toge asks.
What about Rika? Do we even tell the others?
"If you want to, yeah. We could even go somewhere together before I leave. Rika likes you, so she’s okay with it.”
Before he leaves. Toge doesn't want to think about it.
"Rice?" Toge asks.
“Yes, really. She says it's okay. As long as I'm happy. We talked about it a few times."
"Kelp?"
Really?
"You can talk to her too, if you want. But I'm not sure she'd understand you."
No, probably she wouldn't. Toge gets the impression that she doesn't like him very much. If she lets him get close to Yuta, it's all Yuta's doing and nothing that Toge's done to convince her.
"Salmon," Toge says, holding back another deep sigh.
He should say more. He should say something reassuring or at least relieved, something comforting. Yuta is the one who will be traveling again. This least he can do as hit sort-of boyfriend is be supportive.
"Tuna tuna. Salmon."
It'll all be alright. We'll text.
“I won’t be gone forever. They say it’ll take a year tops. And then I’ll be back,” Yuta says. “We could do so many fun things together! Have you ever been to Shibuya before? We could go to a cat café, or even a maid café—”
“Bonito flakes,” Toge huffs, seized by a bout of jealousy imagining him enjoying the company of a cute girl in his presence.
Yuta laughs as Toge grips his shirt and gives it a light shake.
“Of course, you’re the only one for me, Toge-kun,” Yuta says.
Toge’s cheeks flare. Yuta pulls him into a hug and Toge easily slots his head onto his shoulder.
“The time will pass like it’s nothing, and then I’ll be back, and it’ll feel like I never left.”
“Salmon,” Toge whispers, willing himself to believe him.
Things are stable the way they are now. He is not so selfish to expect the world to stop turning while they are apart, but if the world could kindly hurry to bring them back together quickly, Toge would be grateful.
The loss of Toge’s arm is the worst pain he’s ever felt. It keeps him up late into the night and interrupts what little sleep he does get. The phantom pain pulses and tears at any shreds of patience he has left, and he often finds himself sitting by the window digging his nails into the wooden windowsill or picking at the screen as cold air blows in.
During the day, nobody comes to visit. They are all preparing for the culling game or are already participating, a duty that he will also fulfill, once the pain has eased enough for him to focus.
A part of him doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay curled in his bed all day and night, his one good arm bent around the knees pulled to his chest in the fetal position. He wants to go outside and lay in flower fields without hearing or seeing the aftermath of the Shibuya incident.
He sometimes wishes, distantly, that he couldn’t speak at all. He would feel the same with or without it.
But that would be admitting that the doubting side of him was right, that he is nothing without his power. Should he not at least try to put on a brave face for the people who had suffered even worse pains than him?
Shouldn't he at least attempt to pretend that he's alright?
He wishes someone would visit him. Tell him that everything will be okay. Gojo-sensei is gone now, and soon others will be, too.
Haven't they already lost enough?
He barely scraped by with his life this time. What about next time? What if he isn't so lucky?
It hurts to feel like an afterthought. Some small speck in the universe, something so small and inconsequential that a special grade could pinch him between its fingers and turn him to nothing but a bloodstain in an instant.
He tries to sleep. He tries to exercise. To train his body and spirit because that's supposed to make him feel better.
It doesn't.
It just hurts.
It's hard, at first, to keep food down from the nausea. But eventually he manages and it gets a little easier. He takes his meals by his window, letting the breeze waft over his face, trying to find what enjoyment he can in it. He's in the third story overlooking a children's playground. It's a busy area and that scares him.
He still has fitful slumbers, but once he starts taking walks outside his room, he feels incrementally better.
One night, Toge's waking from one of his brief, dreamless sleeps when something loud wakes him.
He jolts up in bed, his heart thumping violently against his ribcage. He throws his blankets to the floor and rises on shaky legs, already mentally rallying himself to shout.
"It's just me."
A gentle voice pierces the dark and Toge falls back against his pillows. He stares in disbelief as Yuta jumps down from the windowsill and lands without a sound. He reeks of blood but glows in his white uniform, bathed in the full moon’s light.
Toge stares in disbelief as he approaches the bed.
"Yuta?" He whispers.
"It's me."
Toge's heart still rams against his chest as Yuta perches himself on the edge of his bed. It's the same voice, but none of the physical features match. His shoulders are too broad, his hair is too slicked back. None of their years of texting could have prepared Toge for this.
"I was afraid they wouldn't let me see you if I came through normally so I decided to do it secretively," Yuta says. "I wanted to come sooner but I've been really busy."
"Mustard leaf."
"I won't be leaving for another few days, at least. I had to make time to see you."
"Bonito flakes," Toge says, though unlike his usual strategy of having something specific he feels like expressing, he voices a general feeling of unease.
"Does it hurt? Maybe my cursed technique could help ease some of the pain."
"Salmon," Toge begs, already sitting straighter, angling his body with the upper half of his left arm extended. Yuta's hands close around him, followed rapidly by a feeling of warmth. Like sinking into a bathtub. Toge exhales and drops the tension in his shoulders.
It feels like Yuta's sucked all the pain from his body. He feels hollow and so exhausted his eyebrows have begun to sag.
"Does that feel better?" Yuta asks.
"Mm," Toge hums.
He reaches for Yuta's arm and tugs him imploringly toward the bed. Yuta obeys and lays down beside him. Toge can't let go of him. His chest constricts and he sucks in another breath as he shuffles toward Yuta.
"I missed you," Yuta whispers.
"Salmon." Me too.
Yuta throws his arm over Toge's shoulders and pulls him close. Toge curls his body into his, feeling his ears and nose burn.
Toge sniffles and Yuta frees a hand to wipe the wet from his cheeks.
“It’s okay to cry. You’ve seen me cry plenty of times before,” Yuta says.
Toge swallows but it doesn’t ease the hurt in his heart. He sucks in a breath and the tears flow, hot and uncomfortable, down his cheeks and against the side of his neck. Yuta wipes what he can away, but he says nothing. What is there to say? His presence is enough.
There are things he should probably be asking. Like how he got here and why now, why when Toge was so closely nearing the cusp of his patience, did Yuta finally appear as if to reassure him he’d be alright?
He’s too exhausted to cry for long. For once, he feels no pain, and seizes the opportunity to get some rest. He falls asleep in Yuta’s arms and only wakes once he feels Yuta shifting beneath him.
“I have to go,” he whispers faintly in Toge’s ear.
Toge voices his protest through a tired grumble but still lets him go. Yuta stands and the first rays of sunlight slip past his shoulder, cascading across the bedsheets.
Don’t go, Toge wants to say, but instead only casts Yuta a tired frown, his head still buried in a pillow.
“You’re still so tired,” Yuta says. “Focus on resting. I know we’ll catch up later, once I’ve cleared the way.”
“Salmon,” Toge whispers through his sleep-addled lips.
He stares as Yuta moves across the room, so deceptively soft-looking despite the surge of cursed energy that moves with him. Toge feeds off it, hungering for its holder, wanting nothing more than to have his arms curled around him again.
Yuta pauses at the door as Toge shuffles up just a little, bringing his one good arm behind his head to support it better.
“Yuta.”
Yuta turns around, revealing an unexpected innocence in his eyes. He returns to Toge’s bedside and kneels so his chin rests level with the mattress. He seeks Toge’s hand, bringing it down to cup his cheek. Can he feel how Toge’s blood pumps through his body as he stares at him, stroking the soft curve of his jaw? Does he feel the slight tremble in Toge’s touch? Can he hear how afraid he is of being left behind?
“You make it hard for me to leave when you call my name like that.”
“Rice.”
“I know,” he whispers. “But I have to go. The culling game is starting soon.”
“Don’t die,” Toge says.
“I won’t. I promise.”