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I'll nap under moonlight skies with you
I think I'll picture us, you with the waves
The oceans colors on your face
I'll leave my heart with your air
-- Blue - Yung Kai --
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At twenty-five, Kugisaki Nobara exuded the same fiery confidence and sharp wit that had made her a formidable force on the battlefield. Now, instead of wielding nails and hammers against grotesque curses, she channeled that same energy into shaping the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers. She’d traded her studded belt and combat boots for a more… teacher-appropriate wardrobe (though she still managed to incorporate a healthy dose of her signature style), today, she paired a crisp, white button-down shirt with a high-waisted, emerald green skirt and a pair of killer heels that could probably double as cursed weapons. Gone were the short, blunt bangs of her student days, replaced by a cascade of long, auburn hair that she styled with effortless grace, letting it fall in soft waves over her shoulders.
She had just finished a grueling training session with her first-year students and was mentally calculating the optimal calorie intake required to justify a croissant in the cafeteria when Gojo Satoru, her former teacher, and current colleague, materialized in front of her, his usual blinding smile in place.
"Nobara! Perfect timing!" Gojo chirped, his usual playful energy radiating outwards. “The boys just finished their mission and have a free weekend! And guess what else? It coincides with the school’s annual party on the cruise ship!”
“And?” She raised an eyebrow.
“And we’re all going! You, me, Megumi, Yuuji – the dream team reunited!” he declared, striking a dramatic pose.
"Seriously? Who thought that was a good idea?"
"Me, obviously!" he added with a wink, "And you, are in charge of the shopping! Make sure those two knuckleheads look presentable, okay? Think of it as a crucial mission – Project: Operation Make Megumi and Yuuji Look Less Like Ragged Street Urchins."
Nobara readily agreed. Shopping? It was practically her second cursed technique. Besides, she hadn't had a chance to catch up with Yuuji and Megumi properly in weeks.
“Alright, I'm in.”
"My treat, of course. Meet us at the Ginza Six in an hour. Don't be late!"
And with another flash of blinding speed, he was gone, leaving the girl in a swirling vortex of glitter and enthusiasm.
A few hours later, she found herself navigating the crowded aisles of Tokyo’s most fashionable department store with her friends, Megumi and Yuuji, the latter’s enthusiasm for the upcoming party bordering on manic. Gojo, claiming he had more important things to attend to (likely involving copious amounts of sweets), had abandoned them after the first store.
"I can't wait to hit the dance floor!" The pink-haired guy exclaimed, his eyes scanning the racks of brightly colored shirts with an eagerness that bordered on childlike.
“I still don’t understand why we have to go to this thing,” Megumi, as always, was less enthusiastic.
Ignoring Megumi's protests, she expertly steered them towards a section filled with sleek cocktail dresses and stylish suits.
Predictably, Yuuji gravitated towards anything with a cartoon character on it, while Megumi seemed content to let Nobara dictate their fashion choices. His only input was an occasional, long-suffering sigh.
“Fushiguro, try this one!” She exclaimed, holding up a sleek, dark grey shirt. “It’ll look great on you!”
With a sigh of resignation, Megumi accepted the shirt and disappeared into a nearby changing room.
As Nobara attempted to steer Yuuji towards something slightly less… eye-catching, a small child wandered over to Megumi’s changing room. His attention captivated by the movement of the curtain, he toddled over and, with a playful giggle, yanked it open.
Nobara’s eyes widened. There, momentarily exposed, was Megumi, his lean, toned body a stark contrast to his usually reserved demeanor. His abs, sculpted and defined, rippled beneath his skin. His shoulders, broad and powerful, tapered down to a narrow waist, a scattering of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. He was no longer the lanky teenager she remembered, but a powerful sorcerer in his prime.
The curtain was swiftly drawn closed again, Megumi’s startled “Oi!” echoing from within the confined space.
The child’s mother rushed over, scooping up her giggling offspring and offering a flurry of apologies.
“I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, bowing repeatedly. “He’s just so curious! I didn’t…”
“It’s… it’s fine,” he managed. “No harm done.”
The unexpected and undeniably appealing sight sent a jolt of heat through Nobara's veins. She couldn’t shake the image, the unexpected flash of skin, the subtle flex of his muscles as he reached for the curtain. It was a distracting, exhilarating, and utterly mortifying experience, one that would replay in her mind, much to her chagrin, throughout the rest of the day.
The distraction followed her to Jujutsu Tech. During her morning lesson, her usually sharp focus wavered.
"Sensei, are you alright?" one of her students, a bright-eyed girl, asked with concern. "You seem a little… off today."
"Just a bit tired," Nobara forced a smile, but her cheeks flushed even deeper. She hoped her voice sounded more convincing than she felt.
The lesson continued, but Nobara’s mind remained stubbornly elsewhere. She stumbled over her words, mispronounced curse names, and even accidentally set off a small, but thankfully controlled, explosion of cursed energy. It was official: she was a mess.
The day dragged on, each hour a torturous reminder of the embarrassing moment. By the afternoon, her head was pounding, and she felt a desperate need to talk to someone.
She stopped by the infirmary, expecting the usual quiet efficiency of the infirmary. Instead, she found the doctor struggling to reach a box of medical supplies on a high shelf. Five months pregnant with twins, Shoko’s usually trim figure was now noticeably rounded, her movements slower and more deliberate. Yet, she stubbornly insisted on maintaining her usual workload, refusing to slow down or accept any special treatment.
“Need a hand?” Nobara offered, her voice laced with concern as she watched Shoko struggle to reach a high shelf.
“Nobara, thank goodness. Could you grab that box of bandages for me? This pregnancy is turning me into a human T-Rex. My arms are useless.”
Nobara quickly retrieved the box, placing it on the counter before gently guiding Shoko to a nearby chair.
“Seriously, you need to slow down.”
“I know, I know. But someone has to keep these kids alive long enough to graduate. Besides,” Shoko, sinking gratefully into the chair, let out a tired sigh, “Sitting still makes me feel like a beached whale.”
“You look radiant, Sensei,” Nobara countered, her voice sincere. “Like a pregnant goddess of healing.”
“You’re too kind. So, what brings you to the infirmary? Injured already? I thought your Resonance was supposed to be more precise these days.”
“Uh, no. No injuries. I just… needed some… psychological advice.”
“Psychological advice?” Shoko echoed, her eyebrow raised. “From me? I’m a doctor, not a psychologist.”
“I saw Fushiguro shirtless yesterday. By accident, I swear! This kid opened the curtain of his changing room, and… well, I saw his....”
“His what? His abs? His pecs? His surprisingly toned glutes?”
Nobara, mortified, could only nod, burying her face in her hands.
“Medically speaking, Yuuji has the most textbook physique. Perfect muscle definition, optimal bone density, exceptional cardiovascular health… a doctor’s dream, really.” Shoko casually tapped her pen on the notebook.
“You’ve seen Itadori shirtless?” Nobara’s eyes widened.
“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen more naked sorcerers than you’ve had hot meals. It’s really not a big deal.”
“I’ve seen Itadori shirtless plenty of times,” she muttered. “And Todo, too. Half-naked, all the time. But… it’s different with him.”
Suddenly, Nobara's embarrassment momentarily forgotten, she blinked in surprise. “Wait, is that why Gojo suddenly started spending so much time at the gym?”
“Let’s just say… a certain someone overheard me complimenting Yuuji’s… assets and decided he needed to step up his game. Besides,” Shoko added, her gaze drifting towards the ultrasound images pinned to the wall behind her, “it keeps him out of my hair, which is a blessing when you’re like this.”
Nobara burst out laughing, the tension finally breaking.
“But it’s not just the changing room incident. I’ve been feeling weird around him lately.”
Shoko simply raised an eyebrow, waiting for Nobara to elaborate.
"It's just... Whenever the other girls fawn over him, you know, the usual giggling and blushing, it makes me uncomfortable. Like, really uncomfortable. And it's not like I'm jealous or anything," she added quickly, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. "It's just... weird."
She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "And then there are these other times… when I see him, my heart starts racing. Like, really racing. It's ridiculous, I know."
“Go on.” Shoko nodded encouragingly, her lips twitching to suppress a smile.
“And the other day, we went to try on formal wear for that upcoming faculty party. And I picked out a vest for him. A really nice one. Black, with silver buttons. It would look amazing on him. I just really wanted him to wear it.”
“And I chose a dress I saw him looking at. A lot. A red one. It’s… a little more revealing than I usually wear, but… he seemed to like it.” Nobara asked, “Sensei, does that sound like liking someone? Because honestly, I’m completely out of my depth here.”
“It sounds familiar,” Shoko admitted. “And yes, I’d say you’re experiencing the early stages of infatuation.”
“Infatuation, huh? So it’s not just me being weird?”
“Trust me, when it comes to matters of the heart, everyone is a little weird.”
Nobara's gaze then drifted towards the window, towards the cherry blossom trees in full bloom outside.
The annual Jujutsu Tech cruise ship party was in full swing. Music pulsed through the air, the scent of grilled seafood and red wine mingled with the salty tang of the ocean, and the Tokyo skyline twinkled in the distance like a scattered handful of diamonds. Dressed in a surprisingly well-fitting suit (courtesy of Nobara’s expert styling), Yuuji was already on the dance floor, his boundless energy a magnet for a group of giggling first-years. Next to him is Megumi, looking decidedly uncomfortable in his formal attire, standing near the railing, his gaze fixed on the glittering cityscape, his tie loosened, his top button undone.
Nobara, however, was the true star of the show. She’d chosen a stunning, form-fitting red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the plunging back a daring touch that left little to the imagination.
Catching sight of her as she emerged from the ship’s interior, Megumi felt his breath catch in his throat. His hand instinctively went to his tie, loosening it further as a wave of heat rushed through him, a stark contrast to the cool night air. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He hadn't realized how… distracting… she could be.
“Where’s Gojo-sensei?” Yuuji craned his neck to scan the crowd. “He said he’d meet us here an hour ago.”
“He’s late, as usual,” Megumi grumbled, his gaze still fixed on the girl, who was now the center of attention.
“Knowing him, he’s probably making a grand entrance,” Nobara smiled. Aware of Megumi’s gaze, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. The dress, the one she’d seen him admiring at the store, was a calculated risk.
Just then, a figure, clad in a dazzling gray suit that seemed to shimmer in the light, materialized on deck, his arrival announced by a chorus of gasps and whispers.
“Speak of the devil,” Nobara rolled her eyes.
The arrogant man sauntered towards them, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Sorry I’m late, kids. Had a bit of a… wardrobe malfunction.”
“Wardrobe malfunction?” Yuuji echoed. “But your suit looks… perfect.”
“It’s the second suit that looks perfect,” He gestured dramatically toward his impeccably tailored gray suit, a masterpiece of Italian craftsmanship that probably cost more than the entire boat. “The first one… well, let’s just say it met an untimely end.”
The three students exchanged bewildered glances.
“What happened?” Nobara asked. She had a sneaking suspicion that the story behind Gojo’s tardiness would be far more entertaining than the party itself.
“It all started with the outfit. When I asked Shoko if she wanted to come, she said no. Flat-out refuses. So, I got dressed, you know, put on my best suit, the one that makes me look like a celestial being descended from the heavens…”
“Get to the point, sensei,” Megumi's patience wore thin.
“Right, right,” Gojo continued. "But then, she gave me this look. You know the one, the 'you're-really-going-without-me? ' frown and a pout, like a kicked puppy.”
They exchanged knowing glances. They knew the look.
“So, I asked her again, and she burst into tears, saying her dress didn’t fit. Then I offered her some maternity clothes, which, mind you, are perfectly comfortable and stylish. Bad idea. She cried even harder. Rivers of tears, I tell you.”
“Of course, as a dutiful husband, I said, ‘Fine, we’ll stay home! We’ll have our own party! Just the five of us!’” Gojo's voice rises in pitch. “I even change into my comfy sweatpants, ready for a night of Netflix and prenatal massages. And then… she really loses it. Starts yelling about how I’m making her feel like a burden, how I don’t understand what it’s like to be pregnant, how I’m the most insensitive, self-absorbed idiot she’s ever met. Starts throwing things at me! Ruined my perfectly tailored suit! Had to change. That’s why I’m late.”
The problem definitely wasn’t the outfit, they thought in unison.
“Why didn’t you just stay home with her?” Megumi asked.
“Couldn’t,” Gojo replied, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Shoko locked me out! Said she didn’t want to see my face until I brought her a gallon of ice cream and a signed apology from the principal.”
He shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face. “Women are impossible to understand. Shoko was always so easy-going, so understanding… until she got pregnant.”
“Sensei,” Nobara reminded, “this is her second pregnancy.”
“I know, I know. But she was much more… manageable when she was pregnant with Hikaru. Maybe it’s the twins. Double the hormones, double the trouble. I don’t even want to think about what’ll happen when they’re teenagers.” Gojo knew he clearly wasn’t winning any ‘Husband of the Year’ awards tonight.
“You’re hopeless.” Nobara couldn't help but sigh.
“Hopelessly handsome, you mean,” Gojo flashed a grin.
“Hopelessly clueless,” She corrected. “You really don’t understand women at all, do you?”
“What are you talking about? I’m a ladies’ man!” Gojo protested, puffing out his chest with an absurd sense of pride.
“That’s the problem. Being a ‘ladies’ man’ and understanding women are two completely different things.”
“Sensei,” she began, her tone patient yet laced with a hint of exasperation, “you can’t just agree with a pregnant woman that she looks like a beached whale, even if she says she feels like one. You have to… reassure her. Tell her she’s beautiful, glowing, radiant… you know, lie like your life depends on it.”
She proceeded to offer Gojo a crash course in “How to Talk to Pregnant Women Without Getting a Hairbrush Thrown at Your Head,” emphasizing the importance of compliments, sympathy, and a complete and utter disregard for the truth when it came to discussing body image. (“For god's sake, stop showing her maternity wear!”)
Despite his usual stoicism, Megumi listened intently, his mind filing away Nobara’s advice for future reference. Reassurance and pampering, huh? he thought, his gaze lingering on her animated face. Noted.
“When a pregnant woman says her dress doesn’t fit,” she explained, “what she really means is ‘Tell me I look beautiful, even if I feel like a giant, swollen potato.’”
“And when she cries because you offer her maternity clothes,” she continued, “what she really means is ‘I’m terrified of losing myself in this pregnancy, so please tell me I’m still desirable, still the woman you fell in love with, even if I can’t fit into my favorite jeans.’”
“Last rule,” she then ticked off her points on her fingers, “never, ever tell a pregnant woman she’s hormonal. Even if she’s throwing furniture at you.”
“But she was throwing furniture!”
“Doesn’t matter. Just duck. Then apologize. And tell her that you understand the immense sacrifices she’s making for your future offspring.”
“I do understand!” Gojo insisted. “I complimented her, offered sympathy, even suggested we stay home and cuddle! What more could a woman want?”
“She wants you to tell her she's beautiful. And that you appreciate her. And that you're there for her. And that you'll handle the midnight diaper changes and the 3 AM feedings without complaint.”
“Oh,” Gojo mumbled, his face paling slightly. “That… that sounds like a lot of work.”
“And dealing with a screaming infant isn't? How did you manage with Hikaru?”
“Shoko did most of it. And the elders. It’s not my fault he cried every time I got near him. Babies are weird.”
“Well, can’t blame him for that.” Megumi, unexpectedly, agreed.
“See? Even Megumi understands!” Gojo perked up, thinking he’d finally found an ally in his parenting struggles.
But Megumi’s next words deflated his momentary triumph. “If I were Hikaru, I’d probably cry and kick whenever you came near, too.”
Gojo's playful facade collapsed. “You’re both ganging up on me! It’s not fair! I'm outta here.”
With a theatrical sigh and a parting wink at his students, he mingled with the school principals, leaving Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara to their own devices.
“Where did you learn all this, anyway?” Yuuji asked.
“Years of observing Shoko during her first pregnancy, and Maki during hers with Shun,” Nobara replied, a hint of pride in her voice. She looked at Megumi and added teasingly, “Too bad some people can’t keep that knowledge in mind.”
At that moment, Megumi wondered, with a warmth that spread through his chest, how she would look, how she would feel, carrying a child.
He then unconsciously glanced at Nobara, his mind conjuring up an image of her… with child. Rounder, softer, sweeter… Realizing he was staring, Megumi’s cheeks flushed crimson, and quickly averted his gaze, his hand instinctively going to the back of his neck.
It's too late. She had noticed.
“What’s with that look, Fushiguro? Did I get something on my face? Do I look so terrible you can't bear to meet my eyes?”
“I… I wasn’t… I was just…,” he stammered then trailed off, realizing he couldn’t possibly explain the strange turn his thoughts had taken without sounding like a complete pervert.
“Just what?” Nobara's eyes narrowed, her hand instinctively reaching for the hammer concealed beneath her dress.
“I was just… admiring your… dress. It’s very… flattering.”
“It is, isn’t it?” she preened, smoothing down the fabric of the very dress she’d chosen because she’d seen him looking at it earlier. “I know you don’t do ‘feelings’ well. But next time, please try a little less intense staring, alright? It’s creepy.”
“Right. To make up for it… how about I get you a drink?”
She nodded. “Make it two.”
After the talk, Yuuji immediately made a beeline for the lavish buffet, his eyes gleaming with undisguised hunger. While Nobara decided to step out onto the deck for some fresh air.
“Kugisaki, I’ll be right back,” Megumi said worriedly. “Don’t go anywhere.”
A small smile played on her lips. “Where am I going to go? Jump overboard and swim back to Tokyo?”
Ignore that, Megumi found himself floundering at the drink counter. He knew nothing about champagne, cocktails, or any of the fancy beverages on display. He usually stuck to water or, on particularly rebellious days, unsweetened green tea. He wasn't sure what Nobara would like. Something sweet? Something tart? Something with a miniature umbrella and a flammable garnish? He finally settled on a light, fruity concoction that he hoped she would appreciate. It was red, and he vaguely recalled her mentioning a fondness for roses.
As he made his way back, a girl stepped into his path, her smile a touch too bright, her perfume a touch too strong.
“Fushiguro-kun. Fancy meeting you here.”
He recognized her - one of the third-year students, notorious for her relentless pursuit of any male sorcerer who possessed even a modicum of cursed energy and a pulse.
“I’ve been admiring you from afar for quite some time. You’re kinda cool… I find it incredibly alluring.”
“I was wondering,” she continued, leaning closer, her hand brushing against his arm, “if I could perhaps get your number? I’d love to get to know you better… outside of school.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, desperately wishing he could use his Ten Shadows technique to disappear into the nearest shadow. “But I’m not interested.”
“Just one little number. We could… hang out sometime. Get to know each other better.”
Megumi suppressed a sigh. He really didn’t have the energy for this.
“Look. I’m flattered, but I’m really not interested. I’m here with someone.” He gestured vaguely towards the deck, hoping she would take the hint and leave him alone.
"Oh, come on. Don't be shy. I promise I won’t bite… unless you want me to. Besides,” She winked, her breath hot against his ear, sending a shiver of revulsion down his spine, “I know you’re not really serious about that Kugisaki girl. Everyone knows she’s just a friend.”
"That's none of your business," his voice hardening. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"
“Playing hard to get, are we? I like that.”
Just as Megumi was about to lose his carefully cultivated composure, a figure barreled into the scene.
"Dude! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Yuuji threw an arm around Megumi's shoulders, effectively separating him from the persistent woman.
"Oh, hello there!" Yuuji chirped, addressing the woman. "Are you a fan of Megumi too? He's pretty amazing, isn't he? Did you see him take down that curse last week? It was epic!" He proceeded to launch into a highly embellished account of Megumi's recent exploits, effectively monopolizing the woman’s attention.
The woman, momentarily thrown off by his enthusiastic interruption, turned her attention to him, her grip on Megumi’s arm loosening. It was the opening he needed. Slipping past her, he muttered a quick thanks to Yuuji before hurrying towards Nobara, the red cocktail sloshing precariously in his hand.
He didn't know she had witnessed the entire exchange. Her eyes narrowed, and a familiar spark of annoyance ignited within her. That little…
As he handed Nobara the drink, a self-satisfied smile played on his lips. “Here. Sorry about that.”
“Thanks,” She knew he wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and she appreciated his efforts, even if they were sometimes… clumsy. “And thanks to your… enthusiastic friend for the assist.” She raised her glass in Yuuji's direction. He gave her a thumbs up, his mouth full of sushi.
As Nobara sipped her concoction, the bubbles tickling her nose, a thought occurred to her, a memory of Shoko's advice echoing in her mind.
"Sensei," she'd said, "So if I wanted to get closer to Fushiguro, I should stop calling him by his last name?”
“Indeed. ‘Fushiguro’ is a bit… formal, don’t you think? Especially for someone you’re hoping to… bond with.”
“But you still called Gojo-sensei by his last name until you got married, didn’t you?”
“That’s because I want to. I can call him Satoru, Gojo, or even ‘you ridiculous, sugar-obsessed idiot’ if I feel like it. The point is, the shift from ‘Fushiguro’ to ‘Megumi" signaled a change in your relationship. A shift from colleagues to something more.”
“So,” Shoko concluded, “if you call Megumi by his first name, and he doesn't immediately run screaming in the opposite direction… well, that tells you something, doesn’t it?”
Now, standing on the deck, the city lights twinkling in the distance, Nobara decided to test Shoko’s advice. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, before turning to Megumi, who was leaning against the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He looked, she thought, ridiculously handsome in his formal wear, the dark suit accentuating his lean frame, his dark hair slightly ruffled by the sea breeze.
“Megumi,” she began, her voice a little louder than intended, “this drink is… surprisingly good. Thanks for getting it for me.”
Megumi was reaching for the glass of champagne and then heard that. The sound of his name, his first name, spoken by her, with such casual intimacy, sent a jolt of surprise through him. His hand froze mid-air, his fingers brushing against the delicate glass, almost sending it tumbling over the railing and into the dark waters below. He then choked, a coughing fit erupting from his chest that sent a splash of champagne down his front, adding to the growing list of wardrobe malfunctions that seemed to plague the Gojo clan and their associates.
“Are you alright? Did you swallow a cursed spirit or something?”
“I’m… fine. Just… surprised.” Megumi, his coughing fit subsiding, managed to gasp out, “You… called me Megumi.”
He stared at her. It was never “Megumi” before. But was always “Fushiguro,” or “Fushiguro-kun,” or occasionally, when she was particularly annoyed with him, “that brooding, shikigami-obsessed emo kid.”
Nobara, her own cheeks now burning, shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, so? What’s the big deal?”
He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again before clearing his throat. “It’s… nothing.”
"So," he began, "how's… how's school going? The new batch of first-years, are they giving you any trouble?”
“The usual. They’re either terrified of me or hopelessly infatuated. There’s no in-between.”
They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation flowing easily as they discussed the challenges of teaching, the frustrations of dealing with hormonal teenagers, and the occasional joys of witnessing their students’ progress. As they talked, Nobara remembered another piece of Shoko's advice.
“Megumi,” Shoko had said, “is the type of guy who needs a little… encouragement. He’s not going to make the first move. Too shy, too cautious. You’ll have to be the one to… nudge him in the right direction. You’ll have to be the bold one. Take the lead.”
“Nudge him? In what direction? Off a cliff?” Nobara had scoffed at the time.
Take the lead. The words felt foreign when it came to… feelings. But now, standing under the starlit sky (or rather, the cloud-covered sky, as there wasn’t a single star, let alone a moon, in sight), looking at Megumi, his brow furrowed in thought, his gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of her champagne, she knew Shoko was right. He was never going to make the first move.
She needed to be bold.
Now, fueled by the second glass of champagne he had fetched for her, Nobara decided to take the plunge. She searched for the right words to convey the feelings that were swirling within her, a mix of nervousness, excitement, and a healthy dose of I-can’t-believe-I’m-actually-doing-this.
Then, she remembered a social media post she’d seen earlier that day, a list of “romantic phrases and their hidden meanings.” One phrase, in particular, had caught her eye: “The moon is beautiful.” Apparently, it was a subtle yet powerful way to confess your feelings without… actually confessing your feelings.
Perfect.
“The moon… is beautiful tonight.” The words escaped her lips before she could fully process their implications.
“The moon?” Megumi blinked. “But… I can’t see the moon. It’s cloudy.”
A wave of anger, mixed with a healthy dose of embarrassment, surged through her. She’d put herself out there, made herself vulnerable, and he’d… he’d commented on the weather!
This guy couldn’t even recognize a romantic confession when it was practically gift-wrapped and delivered on a silver platter!
“You know what, Fushiguro?” she snapped. “Forget it.” Then snatched the champagne glass from his hand and downed the remaining liquid in one gulp before turning and stalking away.
She needed another glass of wine. And possibly a voodoo doll in Megumi’s likeness. Tonight, it seemed, subtlety was not her strong suit.
Now utterly bewildered by her sudden departure, the dark-haired man sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He’d messed up, he knew that. But how? What had he said wrong? He replayed their conversation in his mind, searching for the misstep that had sent her storming away. He’d complimented her dress, hadn’t he? And he’d fetched her champagne, just as she’d asked. So, what had he done wrong?
He was so engrossed in his self-inflicted interrogation that he didn't notice Gojo and Yuuji approaching until they were practically on top of him.
“What happened?” Gojo asked. "Nobara looked… stormy. Did you two have a lover’s quarrel?”
Yuuji chimed in, “Did you insult her fashion sense again? Seriously, dude, you gotta learn to appreciate a girl’s effort. Especially when she’s wearing heels.”
“I didn’t insult her, I complimented her dress. Then we talked about work, and then she said something about the moon, and then she got mad and left.” Megumi sighed, rubbing his temples.
“The moon? What about the moon?”
“She said the moon was beautiful, then I said couldn’t see it because it was cloudy. Then she just… stormed off.”
“Dude!” Yuuji exclaimed, holding up his phone. “Did you not see this post? It’s been trending all day!”
He shoved the phone in Megumi’s face, the screen displaying a social media post about the romantic meaning of the phrase “The moon is beautiful.”
Megumi stared at the post, his jaw-dropping open in stunned silence. He’d been so close, so frustratingly close, and yet he’d blown it.
“Honestly, Megumi,” Gojo shook his head, “I’ve wasted a fortune on tech gadgets for you, from the latest smartphones to state-of-the-art tablets, and you still haven’t learned how to decipher a simple social media post? What am I paying for, huh?”
“It’s not my fault! I don’t spend all my time scrolling through social media like you do!”
“Well, whatever the reason,” Gojo clapped him on the shoulder, “you need to go after her. And apologize. Profusely.”
“Yeah! Go get your girl!” Yuuji nodded.
Megumi, spurred into action by their encouragement, turned and headed towards the stern of the boat, where he’d last seen Nobara. He just hoped he wouldn’t make things worse. Again.
He finally spotted her, standing alone near the stern of the ship, bathed in the warm glow of the deck lights. Even from a distance, he could tell she was upset. She was leaning against the railing, her gaze fixed on the churning water below, the sea breeze whipping strands of hair across her face, the soft yellow light illuminating the delicate curve of her cheekbones. Even in her anger, she was… beautiful.
He approached cautiously, his footsteps barely audible against the rhythmic thrum of the ship’s engine. As he reached her side, she turned, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before she pointedly looked away, her arms crossed, her expression a mask of annoyance.
He slipped off his jacket, the soft fabric still warm from the body, and draped it over her shoulders. “It’s… quite cold.”
She didn’t respond, didn't even flinch as it settled around her.
“Kugisaki, I…”
“How long are you going to keep calling me that?”
“Kugisaki…?”
“My last name,” she clarified, her tone sharp. “How long are you going to keep calling me by my last name? We’ve been classmates for years. Partners. Friends. Don't we at least earn first name basis?”
“Nobara,” he quickly corrected, hoping it might help. “I’m… sorry.”
He then paused a bit before continuing. “The moon… it’s truly beautiful tonight.”
“Really? You’re going with that again? We can’t see the moon. It’s cloudy.” She finally turned to face him.
Little did she know, he summoned Nue earlier, the sleek, feathered shikigami now perched silently on the railing behind him. As he raised his hand, Nue soared into the sky, its powerful wings parting the clouds, revealing the full moon, a luminous orb suspended in the velvet sky.
“Look again,” Megumi said, his voice gentle, his gaze fixed on her face.
As she lifted her gaze, her eyes widened. The moon, full and bright, emerged from its cloudy veil, bathing the deck in a soft, ethereal glow. She turned to Megumi, a slow smile spreading across her face as she realized what he’d done. She recognized the faint hum of cursed energy that signaled Nue’s presence.
"Took you long enough," she teased, and laughed, accepting his silent peace offering. It wasn’t a grand gesture. But it was, in its own quiet, understated way, the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. And for her, it was… perfect.
The moment of shared tranquility, the unspoken connection that had flickered between them, was suddenly shattered by a sudden, violent jolt.
“Whoa!” Nobara stumbled towards the railing, the churning water below a dizzying abyss.
“Careful!” Megumi shouted as his arm instinctively shot out to grab her wrist, pulling her back from the edge.
The world tilted, the sky and sea merging into a dizzying swirl of darkness and light. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, the delicate scent of roses emanating from her hair, a fragrance that tickled his senses, making his head spin more than the sudden lurch of the ship ever could.
After what felt like an eternity, the boat stabilized, the violent rocking subsiding into a gentle sway, leaving behind a trail of churning whitecaps in its wake.
Still slightly shaken from the sudden jolt, the light-haired girl leaned against him, her head resting against his chest, her body molding against his. Despite his usual aversion to physical contact, Megumi found himself strangely unwilling to let go. His arm remained around her waist, his hand resting gently against the curve of her back, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine beneath the silken fabric of her dress. He liked the feel of her close, the way her body fit perfectly against his, the warmth of her breath against his neck. He’d always considered himself a solitary creature, content in the shadows. But with her, it was different. He didn’t mind the closeness, the vulnerability. In fact, he craved it, a need he hadn’t realized existed until this very moment.
He didn’t let go. And she didn’t pull away.
He lifted his gaze, his eyes scanning the deck, searching for an explanation for the sudden turbulence just to spot their sensei standing near the railing, a glass of champagne in his hand, a smug grin plastered on his face. He raised his glass in Megumi’s direction, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, and winked “You’re welcome.”
The silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic thrum of the ship’s engine and the distant laughter of the other partygoers. Megumi waited, his heart pounding against his ribs, hoping for a sign, a word, a gesture that would indicate how Nobara felt, whether the sudden intimacy of their embrace was as unsettling for her as it was exhilarating for him. But she remained silent, her head resting against his chest, her breathing slow and even.
He’d cleared the clouds, both literally and figuratively. He’d shown her, in his way that he cared. Now, all that remained was to say the words, to voice the emotions that had been simmering within him for so long.
He opened his mouth to speak, but just as the words formed on his lips, a brilliant explosion of color lit up the night sky.
Fireworks.
A shower of sparks, a cascade of light, erupted above them, painting the darkness with vibrant hues of red, gold, and emerald green. Nobara's fear forgotten, tilted her head back, her eyes widening in awe as she watched the spectacle unfold, the colorful bursts reflected in her eyes. The fireworks danced across the sky, each explosion more breathtaking than the last. Trails of shimmering gold rained down like liquid fire, followed by bursts of crimson that bloomed like exotic flowers, then showers of emerald sparks that twinkled like a thousand tiny stars.
It was, they thought, a truly magical sight.
Megumi finally spoke, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of the fireworks. “Nobara… I…”
Then he waited for the grand finale, a magnificent burst of silver that seemed to hang suspended in the air for an eternity before dissolving into a shower of shimmering stars, before speaking again.
“So… About what I just said…”
“What did you say?” Nobara turned to him, her smile still lingering. “I couldn’t hear you over the noise.”
Megum let out a sigh. So close, and yet so far.
“I… I complimented the fireworks,” he said, his disappointment hidden beneath a veneer of casual indifference. “They are quite spectacular, aren’t they?”
Another round of fireworks erupted, painting the night sky in a kaleidoscope of shimmering colors. They watched in silence as another round of fireworks lit up the sky, the vibrant colors reflected in Nobara's eyes, transforming them into shimmering pools of light.
“What a beautiful sight,” she whispered.
“Beautiful,” Megumi agreed, his voice a low rumble against her ear. But his gaze wasn’t fixed on the sky. His eyes weren’t on the fireworks. They were on her, on the way the light danced in her eyes, the way her lips curved into a smile, the way her presence filled his world with a warmth, a light, that eclipsed even the most brilliant display of pyrotechnics. Just like you.
He didn’t know that she had, in fact, heard his confession, the words whispered so softly that they were barely audible above the sound of the fireworks, but she’d chosen to pretend she hadn’t. After all, as her grandmother used to say, “There are no roses without thorns.” And this, she thought, was just the first thorn. He’d have to work a little harder to win her over.
Megumi didn't know her thoughts, he just knew from that very moment everything would be changed. The carefully constructed walls he'd built around his heart were crumbling, and he was falling, falling fast, falling hard.