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After graduation, it only made sense for Nobara to rent an apartment with Itadori and Fushiguro. She’d debated getting her own place by herself, but they could get a better deal with the rent split between three people.
Nobara was somewhat surprised they’d agreed to live together so easily— she’d prepared a pitch on the obvious benefits of pooling their incomes, pointing out the dearth of decent one-beds in a market saturated with studios, and the higher-quality three-bedroom apartments in the area, but she didn’t think the boys were likely to be moved by the quality of appliances and amenities. Itadori could make himself comfortable in a cardboard box, and she didn’t think Fushiguro knew the difference between a gas range and a Range Rover. As soon as she’d raised the idea, though, Itadori had eagerly agreed, and as soon as Itadori was on board, Fushiguro had followed.
They stayed in relatively close proximity to the Technical College, since they’d all stayed on as sorcerers. Tokyo Jujutsu Prefectural Technical College didn’t exactly function as a school anymore, but it was still a hub for the sorcerer community in and around Tokyo: a gathering spot as well as a place to organize information on curses that needed sorcerer attention.
Nobara had spent a lot of time dreaming about what her adult life would look like in Tokyo. She’d have a small but well-appointed studio apartment in a glamorous high rise building. She’d start each day picking out her outfit, and applying flawless makeup. Maybe she’d be a model, on her way to a photoshoot. Or maybe she’d have an office job up in one of the high rises. She’d have a wardrobe of cute skirts and stylish sweaters and a closet full of heels. She’d carry a designer handbag, and get regular manicures on her lunch breaks.
Of course, none of that vision had included curses running amok throughout Tokyo, or Shibuya getting completely obliterated from the map.
It had been almost 4 years since the Shibuya Incident. Since she’d lost her eye and nearly lost her life, and the course of sorcery history had been altered forever. Tokyo had started repairing itself. There was a temporary memorial at the famous scramble crossing, a beam of light where Shibuya 109 had once stood, with talks of a more permanent memorial in progress. Every time she walked by, the chainlink fences were ringed with flowers and notes — markers and memories of the dead. At first it was hard to pass by without thinking about the culture and glamor Shibuya had once represented for her, the grim irony that the object of her country girl daydreams was now just a mass grave, a gaping hole in the skyline. She’d made her own solitary pilgrimage, after everything, left a bouquet of flowers for Nanami-sensei. Tried and failed to merge the barren landscape in front of her with everything that had happened underground, overlay that onto her memories of dragging the boys clothes shopping with her. She’d cried, she’d been angry, she’d felt numb. She’d cried some more. But as the years passed, Shibuya just became another place. A shadow slotted into her mental map of the city.
She knew Itadori still avoided it as much as possible. Shinjuku, too. Fushiguro didn’t talk about how he felt about it, at least not to her.
If nothing else, the widespread destruction and the abundance of cursed spirits had lowered rents on the outskirts of Tokyo somewhat. With the three of them, Itadori, Fushiguro, and Nobara could split a three bedroom apartment in a two-story walk up, with a nice wood-floored living room, perfect to fit the TV, a kotatsu, and a comfy couch. They had a middle-of-the-road kitchen, not as updated as Nobara would have liked, but as Fushiguro pointed out, Itadori was the only one of them who really liked to cook, so if it was functional for him, it was good enough.
They easily settled into shared routines. In the morning, they’d alternate breakfast duty, if one of them didn’t have a mission to run off to. Fushiguro apparently subsisted on cereal in the morning, but he made sure they at least always had a full pot of coffee. Itadori breakfasts were Nobara’s favorite.
Exorcising curses didn’t exactly have regular hours, but in the last few years the fights had gotten easier. Nobara hadn’t earnestly feared for her life since she was 16. So typically at least a couple times a week they were all home together for dinner. Nobara had her go-to recipes, and Itadori always seemed to have some idea he wanted to experiment with. Some were flops, but most were delicious. Left to his own devices, Fushiguro’s taste in food was bland and utilitarian, but he made an excellent sous chef. Nobara found it kind-of charming, how eagerly he took to slicing vegetables or filleting fish. He’d never ask them to tell him he was doing a good job, Fushiguro wasn’t like that, but she could tell the satisfaction he got from his contribution.
At night, they’d settle down in front of the TV. Nobara had even picked up video games again. She’d put them aside when she went off to school, but after seeing Itadori fail the same jump over and over again, she finally snatched the controller from him and finished the level herself. They had an informal co-op going, trading off the controller whenever they got bored or stuck. Fushiguro seemed content to watch them from the couch.
Then, they’d say good night and go off to their separate rooms. They’d even worked out a bath schedule with minimal arguments, though Itadori and Fushiguro did complain if she commandeered the bathroom mirror for too long doing her makeup in the morning.
Her life in Tokyo didn’t look anything like she’d originally planned, but Nobara found she didn’t want to change a thing.
***
Itadori and Fushiguro had always had a special connection, even back when Nobara first met them. She’d quickly caught up on the backstory: how Itadori had eaten Sukuna’s finger to help save his classmates, how Fushiguro had asked Gojo to intervene on his behalf. There was something there, some unspoken thing between them, in the way that Fushiguro’s eyes would always find Itadori in a room first, or how seeing Fushiguro always made Itadori’s face split into a wide smile.
Shibuya had seemingly drawn them even closer together. Nobara hadn’t been present for most of it, after she lost her eye to Mahito and was placed in a medically-induced coma. But she knew Fushiguro and Itadori shared an experience no one should have had: bearing the weight of the atrocities Sukuna had committed while wearing their bodies. Nobara told them neither of them were responsible, but she knew regardless of what she said, neither of them felt it was that simple.
They were good guys like that, even if it tormented them.
Fushiguro was typically a quiet person, preferring to listen instead of lead a conversation. He considered companionship to be reading a book while someone else was in the room rather than going out and doing something together. Early in their friendship she’d mistaken it for aloofness, as if he thought he was too good for them, but really it was his way of showing affection, just sharing space with someone without interrupting.
But there were times Fushiguro would go from quiet to downright withdrawn. Sometimes he would shut himself in his room. Sometimes Nobara would ask him a question and he’d fail to respond, unfocused gaze fixed on somewhere or something far away. Itadori told her he was usually thinking about Tsumiki. Searching for something he could have done differently, or just feeling the pain of remembering. Itadori kept a careful eye on him during those moods, sometimes sitting with him or putting a hand on his arm. He had a way of bringing Fushiguro a snack or a glass of water at just the right time. It was like he could make Fushiguro wake up and realize he was there, in the present, instead of haunted by whatever he saw behind his eyes.
It wasn’t only Fushiguro who fell into those haunted moods. Itadori wasn’t immune either. He was better at hiding it than Fushiguro, but Nobara caught the moments where his bright, easy smile wouldn’t reach his eyes.
He and Fushiguro gravitated to each other in these times, heads close together, murmuring amongst themselves.
Nobara knew it wasn’t personal — she couldn’t know what it felt like to face grief like that. Closest she’d come was after the cursed womb incident, when she and Fushiguro had thought they’d lost Itadori, and thrown themselves into training even harder. And she’d barely known him then. Not like now.
God she was lucky to have them both. She hoped they knew it. It hovered at the edge of her awareness some days, how differently things could have gone. The thought could have scared her, but instead it made the sunny days they shared folding laundry in their living room or washing dishes feel that much brighter and warmer.
It was a few months into living together that Nobara noticed something start to shift between her roommates. It started with little touches: A pat on the arm in a conversation, a hand on the back of Fushiguro’s waist while Itadori reached past him for something in the cabinet. At first she thought it was just Itadori — he did similar things with her, sometimes. She’d put her foot down and reminded him that she wasn’t a damsel, even if she couldn’t reach the cereal when he accidentally left it on the highest shelf.
But then it was more than that. Sometimes Nobara would catch them looking at each other. Itadori gazed at Fushiguro with such simple joy, and Fushiguro’s expression when he saw Itadori was so open and warm.
They sat close together on the couch when they’d all hang out for movie night. Itadori would reach over Fushiguro to grab the popcorn bowl, and then stay there, pressed together shoulder-to-shoulder. Or Nobara would glance over and notice their fingers were intertwined, in a way that couldn’t be explained as an accidental touch.
It all came to a head for Nobara on a Saturday afternoon. She had just come home from the grocery store, and was a little annoyed with them - there was a package in the hall for Itadori, something he’d ordered online, and she’d texted them both that she had her hands full and to come meet her downstairs and help her bring everything up, but neither had responded. She’d managed to scoop everything up around the grocery bags, squeezing her phone in her armpit and tucking the box under her chin, and hip checked the door open, only to catch the two of them flying apart like cockroaches when the light turned on, looking flushed and startled and a little rumpled around the edges.
A sound of surprise burbled out of her throat, a loud and undignified “HAH?” As she pointed at them, her phone fell out of her grasp and clattered to the ground.
“Kugisaki-” Fushiguro began, at the same time as Itadori yelped something like “It’s not what it looks like!” which made Fushiguro glare at him.
Her irritation and surprised shifted rapidly into amusement as she took in both of their flustered, shrinking postures. So this was where all those little touches and gestures and quiet moments had been leading all along. “I see how it is. You didn’t get my texts because you were busy swapping spit.”
“Kugisaki!” Itadori whined, slapping a protective hand over his red face, but still peeking through his fingers at her. Fushiguro tugged on Itadori’s sleeve in a way that might have been an attempt at consoling. His expression was totally neutral, but she noticed the tip of his ears were pink.
How cute. They really were good for each other, always had been. Life was too short not to seize love when you had the chance.
***
Not much changed after that.
Which isn’t to say there weren’t changes.
Itadori and Fushiguro became more open with their affection, cuddling together on the couch after a long day of work, or kissing each other on the cheek before they left for the day. They weren’t flaunting their new relationship, just gradually letting more of it slide out into places she could see it. It could have felt strange, seeing her two best friends exchange a kiss over their morning coffee, but instead it just felt like a natural evolution of the relationship they already had. As subtle as they kept their displays of affection, Nobara hadn’t missed that more and more often, even if Itadori and Fushiguro went to separate rooms at night, in the morning they’d emerge from Fushiguro’s room together. Honestly, why try to hide it? They weren’t teenagers, trying not to be caught past curfew.
All in all, even with the cuddling and the kisses and the knowledge that her two best friends slept together, living with Itadori and Fushiguro as a couple was pretty much the same as when they were all just friends. They still had their missions, and their own interests, and the reality TV that Itadori and Nobara binged together. Fushiguro was still learning to cook food for enjoyment, not just microwaving rice and a packet of natto. Nobara could still convince them to go shopping with her.
They did a lot of things together, actually. They went to the gym together, stopped back at the Tokyo campus a couple times a week, cleaned up cursed spirit incidents as a group when they could. They even had a standing night out. It was an idea Nobara had started, but the boys eagerly tagged along: every weekend they’d pick a restaurant or a bar to try. Itadori fell in love with the all-you-can-eat hot pot special down the street from them, and they got to laugh at Fushiguro’s crumpled expression when he tried Mexican food for the first time. She wondered if she was intruding on their ability to have their own date nights, but Fushiguro blew off the idea, and Itadori insisted he wanted to spend time with her, too.
Last night had been a night like that. They’d gone for dinner like they usually did, and then found themselves at a cocktail bar. A real fancy one, with pages of colorful drinks with elaborate garnishes. One drink became two, two became why not have a third, and she was pretty sure Itadori and Fushiguro ordered fourths while she was finishing her final drink, a mix of whiskey and lemon and lavender, filling her with the pleasant warmth and soothing fragrance of a late spring day.
She didn’t even know how they still had new things to talk about, but the night was full of conversation and laughter. Maybe it was the booze, but she was struck by a wave of affection. How lucky they all were to be here. How many things could have gone wrong, and prevented them from being here, together, safe and strong and whole in all the ways that mattered?
They walked home from the train arm in arm, swaying against each other — somehow she’d end up between them, Itadori’s left arm thrown over her shoulder, the fingers of Fushiguro’s right hand tangled in hers. Itadori broke into some kind of song and she cackled, swatting at him. Fushiguro’s face was bleary and pink. It was wonderful.
They barely had the coordination to kick off their shoes, before they all collapsed in a heap on the couch. Itadori’s hand was on her waist, big and comforting and so warm, and she could feel Fushiguro’s chest rising and falling behind her. She drifted in a state between sleep and wakefulness, adjusting to the way their bodies shifted around her. She thought she remembered them leaning over her to exchange a kiss. It was sweet. She was so happy for them, and for a moment she wanted to kiss them both, too, only, she couldn’t quite sit herself up. Everything felt soft and muted, like it was wrapped all over in a fuzzy blanket. She snuggled her face into the couch cushion, feeling cradled and supported and cared for. Was this okay? Was she allowed to feel like this, with Fushiguro and Itadori? She decided as she drifted off to sleep that she didn’t care — she deserved this. They all deserved this.
She woke up on the couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders, and the beginning of a headache. It was dark, still early. She sat up gingerly, grateful to see a glass of water with a couple painkillers next to it sitting on the kotatsu in front of her. She rubbed her eyes. Itadori and Fushiguro’s bedroom doors were both pulled tightly shut. She took the painkillers and scraped herself off the couch, and tucked herself into her own bed, taking the blanket from the couch with her.
***
Another couple hours of sleep and a bracingly hot shower brought clarity.
What was that last night? How drunk had she been, to think about kissing Itadori or Fushiguro?
She clearly needed to start spending time with other people, if she was starting to be weird about her friends. At least she could take comfort that whatever was going on with her, they probably hadn’t noticed — they were too wrapped up in gazing into each others’ eyes. Good for them.
She could use someone like that, probably. Maybe she should try to find a date. It would be a waste not to — she was young woman in her prime in Tokyo, after all.
Sort-of in her prime at least. Less so this morning, but she’d rally. She combed her wet hair, and patted gently at her puffy complexion. The headache medicine had helped, but she probably should do a hydration mask.
Moisturizer applied, she flopped back onto her bed in her robe.
…How did anyone date these days? Did people still use OKCupid? Or was everyone on something else now? Bumble? Pairs? She went to her phone’s App Store and downloaded a couple. Now, to set up a profile…
Choosing pictures was pretty easy. She knew which of her selfies showed her best angles. She mentally debated about her eye for a bit, and ultimately decided to make the first pic one where she was in profile and facing right, just so her eye patch wasn’t the main focus. Men were so easily distracted, and she wanted to make sure they took in the rest of her lovely features. She uploaded a couple other pics after that: a selfie she’d taken at a bar where she felt her cleavage looked particularly good, and one picture that showed her full body, just to prove she wasn’t trying to hide anything with only face pics. Kugisaki Nobara was the full package. Any sensible guy should be able to see that.
She changed her settings to be open to women, too, before she could second-guess herself.
Then she had to write a bio. Easy enough. Just describe herself and what she was looking for.
Nobara, 20, sorcerer, looking for fun! …Ew, that made her sound easy. And did she really want to lead off with the fact that she was a sorcerer? Sure, people knew about curses and sorcerers now, but she didn’t want to get some weird occult fanatic or something. Besides, she did have things she liked to do outside of work. She wracked her brain, blaming her hangover for how hard it was to think of something. Mostly she just hung out with Itadori and Fushiguro. And the whole point of this was to give them some space. So what did she like to do separate from them?
Nobara, 20 y/o, recent grad, let’s go shopping for .. she backspaced. Guys didn’t want to go shopping with her. Well, Itadori and Fushiguro did. Itadori even carried her things without complaint — he seemed to take a weird amount of pride in showing off how much he could carry. It was goofy, but nice.
She tried again.
Nobara, 20, I like fine dining, nice clothes, and luxury vacations. I know what I like and what I’m worth. I don’t play games. Looking for someone to explore the city with. Think you can keep up?
She nodded to herself. Elegant and confident, with a little challenge. She’d be irresistible.
***
A day passed, and to her immense displeasure Nobara hadn’t gotten any messages.
What the hell? Everything she’d read told her guys were dying to message girls on these things. And she knew she was more than good-looking enough.
She should text Fumi. That seemed like the kind of thing you’d text a girl friend about. Fumi never did move to Tokyo like they’d promised, but they still exchanged occasional messages. Still, it was getting harder to feel like they had something in common. Nobara wished she knew how to contact Saori. The elegant girl of her childhood would absolutely have some advice here. Maybe she should reach out to Ozawa, that girl who Itadori almost dated. Nobara would have to make sure she wasn’t the one who dropped that Itadori was dating someone else now, just in case Ozawa was still carrying a torch, or Itadori wasn’t ready to tell her. She knew they kept in touch, at least a little. Nobara still had her number, too, and Ozawa would definitely how to make yourself look good on these apps.
But none of those people really knew her.
Not the way that Fushiguro and Itadori and the rest of Jujutsu High did.
She heard a familiar series of footsteps padding past her, then the creak of the fridge door in the kitchen.
“I-ta-do-ri!” she ground out, without looking up from her phone.
Itadori poked his head out from the kitchen, pointing a finger at himself with a questioning look in his eye. He was holding a soda.
“Gimme one,” she ordered. He ducked back into the fridge and emerged from the kitchen with a second soda can, and placed it in her waiting palm, sitting on the couch next to her.
She thrust her phone in his face.
“Wha?” Itadori made a confused noise, looking a little cross-eyed as he grabbed her phone (and her hand with it) to move the object into focus.
“Describe me,” she told him.
“Uh-? Sure? You have brown hair and-”
“Not like that, for this.” She waved her phone at him, still trapped between their two hands, and he finally took the device from her. She fidgeted with her now free hand, wiping her palm against her skirt. Had Itadori’s hand always been able to completely envelope hers like that? It made her palm sweaty.
“Dating site?” Itadori’s eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his mop of pink hair.
“Got a problem with that?” She glared.
“N-no,” Itadori stammered. “‘Course not. Uh, okay…” She watched as his eyes flicked back and forth over her bio, his face falling into a pinched expression. “Uh. Kugisaki. …You know you have this set as looking for men, and women?”
She raised her eyebrow at him. “And?”
“Oh, I just didn’t know that you…” He cleared his throat. “I just didn’t know, that’s all!”
She crossed her arms over chest, narrowing her eyes. “Well. Now you do. Either write something or give me my phone back.” She held her hand out, palm up, and snapped her fingers at him.
“Right… dating profile…” Itadori trailed off, laughing nervously. “This makes you sound kinda…” He winced.
“Kind of what?” She demanded.
“Intense?” Itadori offered sheepishly.
“Well, I’m not going to date someone who is just going to be boring,” she told him, running a hand through her hair.
“Yeah but like… you don’t want to push them away before you even meet them…”
Nobara just glared at him. This was starting to get annoying.
Itadori looked at her phone in his hand again. “Right.” He glanced at her nervously, like she was an animal about to bite. “…Can I backspace this?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She cracked open her soda and leaned back into the couch cushion to wait, resisting the urge to tap her foot while Itadori typed. He started and stopped, pausing a couple times to glance up at her, bottom lip caught in his teeth as he contemplated… whatever he was thinking about. Her? Even though she’d asked him to do this, something about having his attention turned on her made her want to shrink back. Her face felt warm. She hoped it didn’t show. Probably just the embarrassment of asking for help. She never did like asking for help.
The front door clicked open and shut, followed by the familiar sounds of someone kicking off their shoes and putting their bag down in the hall.
“Ah, Megumi!” Itadori sat up and waved at Fushiguro, Nobara’s phone still clutched in his hand.
Megumi, Nobara noticed. When had the two of them switched to first names?
“What’s going on?” Fushiguro walked over to the back of the couch where he could see what she and Itadori were doing.
“Helping Kugisaki write a dating profile!” Itadori chirped. “Here, take a look.”
“Hey, that’s my phone, you know?!” Nobara snapped at him. Fushiguro barely gave her a glance of acknowledgment, taking her phone from his boyfriend’s hand.
“I see how it is,” she grumbled.
Fushiguro nodded at Itadori, completely ignoring Nobara’s complaints.
“This is good,” he agreed in his usual murmur. “Put something about her smile.” Did Fushiguro’s eyes just flick up to meet hers, a little crinkle in the corners, or was she imagining things? It was the kind of near-smile he usually reserved for Itadori, and it was gone so quickly that she wasn’t sure if it happened at all.
“Yeah,” Itadori agreed. “Good idea.”
Nobara’s head spun. Her mind screamed at her to protest, demand they stop talking about her like she wasn’t there, grab her phone back and do this herself. But she couldn’t make herself move.
After what felt like an eternity of Fushiguro and Itadori hovering together over her phone, foreheads almost touching, Itadori finally nodded in satisfaction, and handed the phone back to Nobara.
She turned it around to see what they’d written. It was a lot longer than what she’d written for herself.
Nobara, 20. Looking for someone I can make a meaningful connection with. Must appreciate fashion and style, sightseeing, and trying new things. I’ve got a sense of adventure, and I’ve been told my smile lights up a room. Tell me about your fav restaurant, or something you love doing. I like passionate people who care about others and aren’t afraid to be themselves. NGL, I can be stubborn: I know what I like and what’s important to me. But when things get rough, there’s no one you’d rather have in your corner.
Nobara’s heart fluttered in her chest.
Across the couch, Itadori beamed with eagerness and behind him, Fushiguro looked to the side, just narrowly avoiding Nobara’s eyes.
A smile that lights up the room? No one had ever told her that before. Was that really what Fushiguro thought? And Itadori? Itadori said things all the time without really thinking about them, he was just an effusive person like that. But she didn’t think she’d ever heard Fushiguro volunteer a compliment before, especially one that wasn’t about jujutsu.
Was her face red? It felt red.
She shot up from her seat on the couch, feeling lightheaded as she stepped around the kotatsu. Wouldn’t that be pathetic? Survive everything she had so far only to trip and hit her head in her own living room, all because Fushiguro Megumi was too nice to her.
“I’m getting a soda!” She pronounced, stalking quickly off to the kitchen. She leaned forward into the fridge, the cool air soothing her burning face.
Behind her in the living room she could hear Itadori murmuring to Fushiguro, perplexed.
“I just got her a soda, though…”
She retreated to her room, and shut the door behind her. She sunk back against the door and slid to the floor, taking a long deep breath to try to calm her rapid pulse.
As she clasped her phone tight against her chest, she realized she’d forgotten to grab her drink.
What was the matter with her?
***
“Guess what?” Itadori began, shifting back and forth in his seat on the couch. His eyes sparkled with barely restrained eagerness around whatever it was he was about to share. If he was a dog Nobara was pretty sure he would be wagging his tail.
“I’m not guessing,” Fushiguro murmured without looking up from whatever he was doing on his laptop.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Nobara replied, plopping down on the far end of the couch.
Fushiguro leaned away slightly so that she didn’t hit him with her knee when she crossed her legs.
“Well—!” Itadori stopped there.
Fushiguro raised an incredulous eyebrow.
“…Well?!” Nobara demanded.
Itadori spit it out. “Everyone on this couch is bisexual!” He punctuated this statement with a hand gesture to encompass the couch’s occupants, mouth open in a wide grin, waiting for their reactions.
Fushiguro shut his laptop, a look of surprise crossing his features, before he quickly schooled his expression back to neutral. “Why bring that up all of a sudden?”
“Uh, no reason…” Itadori scratched at the back of his head. Fushiguro gave him a skeptical look.
Itadori raised his eyebrows in return, which made the lines of Fushiguro’s frown deepen.
Itadori bumped his shoulder against Fushiguro’s and then, weirdly, Fushiguro kicked Itadori in the ankle.
Nobara wasn’t sure what kind of nonverbal communication they were having in just eyebrow waggles and nudges. But she felt she had an idea of where this conversational topic had come from.
“I marked myself as ‘interested in women’ on the dating apps,” she grumbled. She didn’t really care that either of them knew that, they’d help write her profile, after all. And she was actually getting some messages since their intervention. But it was still a topic she wasn’t totally comfortable with. “Not that I’ve talked to any…”
She had a couple promising chats going with guys, and had matched with a girl the other night. She’d stared at the notification of the match on her phone, waiting for a message to pop through, but none ever came.
Fushiguro looked up at her, now seeming more genuinely curious, as he set his laptop aside on the kotatsu in front of them.
“I didn’t realize that,” he replied thoughtfully.
“It’s not like it’s a big deal…” Nobara trailed off, eager to redirect the conversation off of her as-of-yet-unexplored possible preferences. “You guys are both bi though? I mean, I know way too much about Itadori’s taste in women, but Fushiguro? I know Hana had a huge crush on you, but you never seemed to like her back.”
Fushiguro fidgeted with a loose thread in the couch cushion. “We were just kids. I don’t really get to feel that way about someone if I just met them. I feel responsible for what Sukuna did to her in my body and I’m going to keep my promise of helping her whenever she needs it. But that’s not romantic. And I guess by the time it could have been I already had my heart set on somebody else.”
Itadori had a fond little smile on his face. Nobara could tell he was thinking about his own relationship with Fushiguro.
Nobara considered that. It made sense, wanting to be friends with someone first. It certainly seemed easier. She wondered suddenly how Fushiguro and Itadori had known they wanted to be together like that. It had seemed like an obvious and natural evolution of their friendship, just one more step in the closeness they already had. But maybe there’d been something going on before they all even started living together.
She eyed them both curiously. “Who was your first same-sex crush?”
“…” Fushiguro pressed his lips together, focusing on his hands in his lap. "Okkotsu-senpai,” he muttered.
“Whaaaat?” Nobara demanded, whirling around to lean into his space. She’d fully thought the answer might be Itadori. And Okkotsu of all people? He definitely didn’t seem like the the type that would lead someone to a newfound sexual orientation discovery. “Really? But he’s so…” She fumbled for a description or a gesture. “Maki-san said he was a sad little nerd.”
The tips of Fushiguro’s ears were turning pink. “It was the year before we started school, but before he left to train abroad, and I’d heard he had fought and defeated a special grade curse user. He just seemed… cool.” His blush deepened, and he looked away.
Nobara laughed. “No wonder you didn’t want to answer when Todo asked what kind of girl you liked back then.”
Fushiguro glared at her. “I wasn’t lying.” He continued. “It’s more about the person anyway. It doesn’t really matter to me what their gender is.” He crossed his arms over his chest, raising one thin challenging eyebrow. “Well? Who was your crush?”
Nobara scoffed. She wasn’t really bothered that they knew this, but still felt her face getting warm. “Maki-san.”
“Huh!?” Itadori exclaimed in surprise, leaning forward. “For real?!”
“Seriously?” Nobara complained, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t make fun of Fushiguro! Yes, for real.”
“But she’s so…” Itadori frantically did something with his hands, a combo of gestures that seemed to be a glare and crossed arms followed by a bicep flex. “And you’re so -” he swept a hand behind his ear as if tucking hair back, and flared out the nails and fingers of his other hand, batting his eyes.
“The hell is that supposed to be?” Nobara demanded. Was he trying to say Maki was too butch for her, as if that wasn’t part of her appeal?
“Yuji is just scared of her,” Fushiguro said drily.
“Am not!” Itadori snapped back, as Fushiguro’s skeptical eyebrows quirked higher into his mop of bangs. “Megumi!” Itadori whined, grabbing onto Fushiguro’s arm.
There were the first names again. Why why was it making her heart beat faster, her face flush with something almost like frustration? The additional level of intimacy between them made sense, now that they were dating. Why should she care how they referred to each other? Still, a dark jolt of envy twisted in her stomach.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “You can call me Nobara, too, you know!”
Itadori and Fushiguro turned from their private tussle to face her with wide surprised eyes - before Itadori’s face split into a wide grin.
“Okay!” Yuji exclaimed.
“Sounds good,” Megumi agreed, “Nobara.” His lips were quirked up into a small smile. Megumi’s smiles were such a rare thing, Nobara felt her heart flutter at the sight.
“Wait,” Megumi interjected. “Yuji - you never answered the question.” Was it just her, or was there something slightly mischievous in his tone?
Yuji grabbed a pillow from the couch and smacked him. “Shut up, you know it was you.”
***
It wasn’t that the scars made Maki less attractive to her — far from it. It was more that Nobara saw the way Okkotsu looked at her and realized as fond as she was of Maki, as strong and handsome and wickedly smart she thought she was, Nobara didn’t love her like Okkotsu did.
She watched them across the training field, as Maki led a group of young sorcerers with wooden swords in a pattern of cuts, Okkotsu walking between their ranks to correct their form, adjusting a wrist angle here, or an unstable knee there.
The Kyoto campus still existed as a vocational school, kept alive by Principal Gakuganji, Iori-sensei, and what was left of the old families. Tokyo, though, had never recovered from the loss of most of its faculty. Nobara, Itadori, and Fushiguro had been the last formal pupils. Ieiri-san and Iori-sensei had ensured they were able to finish out their academics. Alongside Okkotsu, Maki, and Inumaki, they’d done a mix of correspondence courses and training with their Kyoto peers, so that they all at least received high school diplomas. No new students had been enrolled after their class.
But no one had been quite willing to abandon the Tokyo campus to disrepair. With Kenjaku’s culling game over, it was once again rare for someone to suddenly discover they had cursed energy. But it still happened. With the existence of cursed spirits public knowledge, there was no longer reason to keep the existence of sorcerers a secret. The Tokyo campus had become a de facto training camp, both for young sorcerers coming into their abilities for the first time, and for non-sorcerers looking for self-defense techniques. It turned out they were all still needed, just in a different way.
Okkotsu and Maki were a perfect combo to coach these new pupils. Even with her Heavenly Restriction, Maki knew better than anyone how non-sorcerers could learn to fight against curses. Okkotsu had a unique empathy for those who were afraid of their own newfound power. And between the two of them, they could easily spot someone who was likely to use their cursed energy to hurt others, flagging them for extra attention from one of their old teachers.
Kudos to them for wanting to do that work. To Nobara it sounded like a pain to be responsible for all these kids and to make sure they didn’t get hurt. But she could recognize the subtle ways Maki lit up when one of her students got a guard just right, and was glad her friend had found something that made her happy. She watched as Okkotsu joined Maki at the front of the rank of students, the way his face split into a brilliant grin as soon as he met Maki’s eyes. She was happy that both of them had someone, too, just like Yuji and Megumi had each other, even if it made her feel a little lonely, too.
***
There was definitely something addictive about swiping through dating app profiles. Once she sat down and got started it was hard to stop.
Guy in flip flops. Nope.
Gym bro showing abs but no face. Nope.
Facial tattoos. She shuddered, reminded of Sukuna. Hell no.
Pic of three guys, all in matching suits like for a wedding party. She scrolled through the other pics to see if she could pick out who the profile even belonged to, before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.
Surprisingly, the next profile actually caught her eye. This guy had a mop of dark hair, but he made it looked stylishly tousled, instead of like he just got out bed. He had strong, expressive brows, and soulful looking eyes. She swiped right.
Next profile was a fairly cute girl, but upon reading her bio it was actually her and boyfriend looking for a “friend,” ick. Nope.
Suddenly her phone lit up with “It’s a match!” Soulful Eyes Guy had liked her back. She opened up his profile again. Something about his expression felt familiar, like he was someone you could have a conversation with.
As she was contemplating this, Megumi walked into the room, yawning.
“Is there coffee?” He asked, scratching at his stomach under the hem of his shirt.
“Yeah,” she replied, waving her hand in the direction of the pot. Soulful Eyes Guy had just sent a message: hey.
“Thanks,” Megumi murmured.
She contemplated how she wanted to respond as he poured himself a cup, and sat down across from her at the table. He gave a pleased sigh, reviving in real time as he sipped his coffee.
She realized abruptly who Soulful Eyes Guy reminded her of, and hurriedly unmatched, hoping Megumi hadn’t seen his doppelganger on her phone.
***
Nobara’s fingers tapped against the side of her leg under the table. There was nothing wrong with the guy sitting across from her. He was just kind-of nondescript. He’d had a nice smile in his photos. In person she was starting to feel like he was smiling too much. It was getting on her nerves.
When she met him at the Italian restaurant, he’d pulled out her chair for her, which had been a good sign. They’d perused their menus, he’d taken a sip of his water, and then, all smiles, asked her about her eye. She’d told him off for being rude, and he had apologized, face still in that toothy smile.
What was wrong with him? Who smiled this much? The candle on the tabletop glinted off his white teeth. She spent most of their meal wondering if it was some kind of curse that had somehow escaped her notice. He said something about what he did — he’d just graduated university and moved to Tokyo for some kind of fellowship — it had sounded prestigious to her on his profile, but now she couldn’t remember what it was. He was prattling on about something, gesturing with his forkful of pasta.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste as a blob off sauce slopped down onto the white tablecloth. Her date didn’t even seem to notice.
“Hey,” she interrupted. “This is kind of a nice place you know?”
He blinked at her.
She jabbed a finger at the table cloth. “People don’t work hard at this kind of thing for you to splash it all over.”
The guy finally frowned, which felt like a weird victory. “Are you seriously scolding me about pasta sauce?”
The conversation went downhill from there.
***
An hour later, she shoved open the door to the apartment, kicking her heels off in the genkan with a loud groan.
Yuji and Megumi looked up at her from where they were playing video games on the couch.
“You okay?” Yuji asked.
She flopped down on the couch beside them, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag they’d opened.
“Can’t believe I skipped lunch for that dickwad. He promised good Italian so I was all ready to have a giant delicious plate of pasta, but then I couldn’t even enjoy it because he kept looking at me.”
“Looking?” Megumi frowned. Next to him Yuji looked weirdly tense. Something about the set of his jaw made her think of an animal with its hackles up.
“Ugh, he just kept smiling, like a creepy clown,” She bared her teeth, trying to demonstrate the expression that put her off. “Like, who does that?”
“Smile?” Megumi repeated, sounding confused.
Yuji seemed to deflate with a nervous laugh. “Oh man, that’s a relief. I thought you meant he was like, creeping on you or something.”
She imagined Yuji and Megumi showing up on her date, interfering like she and Yuji had done to Megumi with Gojo-sensei back when they were kids, trying to make that girl think he was already with one of them. The memory made her laugh — Gojo’s violin lessons, and Megumi’s face when he demanded to know what the hell they were all doing.
Funny as that would have been, she was totally capable of dumping a creep herself.
“Who do you think I am?” She elbowed Yuji with a grin. “I’m Kugisaki Nobara. I’d hammer a nail through his hand before a guy like that could try anything!”
***
The next date wasn’t much better than Smile Guy. She’d opted for coffee this time. Easier to leave if things were awkward. And they were excruciatingly awkward.
This guy had seemed normal enough online. He’d listed his favorite books in his profile, and he watched one of the reality shows she and Yuji were following. They’d exchanged a few messages about the latest episode while they were planning this date. In person he was a little shorter than she expected from his pictures, but that was fine. She could deal.
This though?
Ever since they’d ordered their drinks and sat down the guy couldn’t seem to look her in the eye. He kept glancing down at his coffee, then up at her, his focus drifting off to the side.
Her eye twitched. It was the eye patch, wasn’t it? “Do I have something on my face?”
“No!” He yelped. “Well, yes, but.”
“Huh!” She tapped at the patch over her empty eye socket. “How did that get there?” She grinned at him, trying to make it a joke, but her irritation must have shown through because he just winced.
She leaned back in her chair. “Well?! Just ask if you’re going to.”
The guy seemed to collect himself. “Uh, what happened?”
She paused to decide how to answer. Even though cursed spirits were a reality of life these days, that didn’t mean the average person was comfortable with them. “…Workplace accident.” She grinned. “I almost died.”
“Oh my god,” the guy gasped. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah, I’m fine, obviously. It was years ago.” What an overreaction. He was acting like he thought she might keel over any minute.
The guy fidgeted across from her. “I’m, uh, sorry that happened to you. It must have been terrible.”
Nobara frowned at him. Seriously, why were they still talking about this? For the first time, she really registered his smooth face, the soft-looking skin of his hands as he lifted his cup to his lips - not a single visible scar or callous. Could this really be his first time facing someone with scars like hers? Almost everyone she knew had some kind of scars now. Compared to Maki’s burns or the slash through Okkotsu’s forehead, the stump where Inumaki’s arm had once been, or Yuji’s missing fingers, being down one eye didn’t seem like much. Besides, she’d blacked out almost immediately and been in a coma for most of the healing, so she didn’t have any memories of the pain.
That didn’t seem like something the guy across from her would take comfort in hearing, though. And why did she have to comfort him about it anyway, with his unblemished features and big worried eyes?
“I’m fine,” she told him, a little brusquely. “Let’s talk about something else.”
***
She developed a couple more eye stories. They were a good way to end bad dates.
“Stabbed it out and fed it to a guy who shit talked his ex,” was her current favorite.
That dude had looked like he was about to piss himself. Hilarious.
***
Tonight’s date hadn’t asked about her eyepatch, thankfully. It made her feel slightly more inclined to actually share things about herself.
“What did you go to school for, Nobara?” He asked.
She took a leap. “I guess you could call it a trade school.”
He leaned forward over his drink. “Really? You don’t seem like the type.”
“Technical college for sorcery,” she explained, taking a sip of her wine.
“Sorcery…? Like, wizard school?” The guy chuckled.
She crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow at him and daring him to joke. “I exorcise curses.”
“Oh.” He perked up. “Wait, you don’t mean those people who were involved in the Shibuya Incident and that weird game thing and everything blowing up in Shinjuku?”
“Uh.” She blinked. “Yeah.”
“Holy shit!” He nearly shouted, then seemed to remember himself and continued in a lower volume hiss. “My cousin was in the Tokyo 1 colony. Is it true you fought the US military and kept them from colonizing Japan?”
“Uh.”
Was that something that had happened? She supposed it could have. It wasn’t like she’d ever sat down and made everyone give her a play-by-play of the months she’d been unconscious. Her date continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, anyway.
“Damn, I can’t believe I’m meeting a national hero! You must be crazy strong…”
His subsequent stream of compliments and questions washed over Nobara. She hadn’t liked being treated like everything she’d been through made her damaged goods, but she was realizing she didn’t want to be thought of as a hero, either.
Besides, the events of the Culling Game and most of the final showdown with Sukuna in Shinjuku wasn’t her story to tell, anyway.
***
Sometimes her messages didn’t even get so far as a bad date.
“And he was so weird about the fact that I live with you guys, too!” She exclaimed, brandishing the latest message chain on her phone over dinner. “He was like - ‘You live with two guys? That’s kind of a turnoff.’ Which like, what? And then he was like, ‘I dunno, wouldn’t want to compete with your other two boyfriends.’ What a tool. And then he was the one who blocked me!”
Megumi and Yuji exchanged a look that she couldn’t read.
“Such a tool,” Megumi echoed, around a mouthful of grilled fish.
“…Yeah, Nobara, that sucks.” Yuji offered after a moment.
Yuji was sitting closest so she kicked at the leg of his chair in annoyance. “Hey! Don’t just pretend to agree if you’re not even listening to what I said to begin with!”
“I was listening!” Yuji yelped, pulling his knees up in his chair so his shins were out of her reach. “I was listening!”
***
Nobara had another date lined up for that Friday night, but by the time the weekend rolled around she found she wasn’t feeling it.
She had a standing invite to join Shoko and Utahime for drinks next time Utahime was in Tokyo. Maybe it was time to finally take them up on it. It was still weird to think of them in first name terms, as opposed to Iori-sensei and Ieiri-san, but the two of them had insisted as soon as Nobara graduated.
Nobara hesitated in the doorway, firing off a text to Shoko, as she traded her heels for a pair of sneakers.
Hey, are you all still good if I join for drinks?
Shoko’s response was a quick “thumbs up” emoji, and an address. Nobara sent the guy she was supposed to meet an apologetic message, and headed out for the train.
Shoko and Utahime’s favorite bar wasn’t the kind of place Nobara would have chosen. It was dark, but not in a cool, moody way, more like the owners were trying to hide dirt. It reminded her of the kind of place gross old men would hang out in her hometown. She didn’t even see a cocktail menu at the bar, just a chalkboard listing a couple of beer and shot specials. The tables were topped with ugly green laminate, and the floor seemed vaguely tacky in a way that made Nobara uncomfortably scuff the heel of her shoe back and forth to make sure she wasn’t stuck in something.
It was easy to find Shoko and Utahime. The two women were at least a couple drinks deep by the time Nobara arrived. Utahime spotted her across the room, and hollered “Nobara-chan!” Her face was red, and she swayed cheerfully against Shoko as she waved her giant mug of beer in Nobara’s direction. Shoko tipped her chin at Nobara and scooted her chair over, sliding her own beer to the side to make room. While she seemed more sober than Utahime, her lazy smile and slightly clouded gaze gave her away. Nobara hung her coat and purse on the back of her chair and pulled herself up to the table. In the center was a pitcher (half full), an ashtray (thankfully empty), and a basket of peanuts. Shoko reached across her to grab a couple and crushed the shells in her hand, letting the shell fragments and dust crumble to the floor.
“Hey, I thought you said you had a date?” Shoko asked.
“Cancelled,” Nobara admitted.
She regaled the two of them with her dating app misadventures as she worked her way through her own beer.
“Oh yeah, sounds like a real gem.” Shoko rolled her eyes at the story of the last guy who’d ghosted her. “You dodged a bullet.”
Utahime took another swig. “Men are the worsttt.” She slurred. “Just date women.”
Shoko swatted her arm affectionately. “Some people actually like men, you know? You can’t just make Nobara-chan bi just because you think it’s a good idea.”
“What a waste!” Utahime sighed, sinking back in her chair.
“Actually,” Nobara began, emboldened by her own drink.
She thought of the conversation she’d been having earlier with a girl she matched with named Akari, how refreshing it was to actually talk about each other’s interests a bit before they went right into where to meet up. She also thought about Akari’s biceps, loose sleeves of her tank top showing a peek of sports bra, and tipped her drink to her lips, hoping the cool beer would soothe her suddenly warm face.
Something must have shown in her face because Utahime’s eyes lit up.
“Whaaat?!” She leaned forward across the table from her, making grabby hands.
Shoko raised her eyebrows over her drink. “Oh really? Show us!”
“Phone, phone now!!” Utahime smacked the tabletop in front of her, sending their glasses clattering dangerously against each other.
Nobara fished her phone out of her purse and unlocked it, pulling up Akari’s dating profile and sliding it across the table to be scooped up by Utahime.
Shoko leaned in over Utahime’s shoulder, and Nobara silently waited for their assessment. She took another swig of beer, trying to look completely unconcerned about what their reactions would be.
“Ooh, arms, ” Shoko remarked. “Nice.”
Utahime nudged her, tapping the screen with a finger. “Hey doesn’t this kind of—”
“Oh with the pink hair?” Shoko nodded.
“Yeah! Doesn’t she look a lot like Itadori?”
Nobara almost spit out her beer. Instead she somehow inhaled and swallowed at the same time, launching herself into a coughing fit.
She snatched her phone back out of Utahime’s hand, turning it to face herself.
Now that it was pointed out to her, the resemblance was obvious. Akari’s features were softer, her eyes bigger, but the self-assured but approachable-looking grin in the photo, and her hair — close cropped on the sides, dyed pink in the middle — all reminded her of Yuji.
She put her head down on the table, hoping it would swallow her up.
She never did message back poor Akari after that.
***
Yuji had been flipping channels, landing on some talk show. She and Yuji enjoyed these things, even though Nobara would freely acknowledge they were kind of trashy - a day in some celebrity’s life, gossip segments, something about some trend going on in Japan somewhere. Nobara suspected that some of the things they covered were made up just to get more viewers, rather than genuine emerging trends. But the outlandishness was part of what made it fun to watch. This show seemed to be one of those: a panel of TV personalities screening clips about Modern Love, throwing in their commentary and discussion after each one.
There was an interview with what looked like a gay couple, two guys only a little older than them, one tall and European-looking, with a strong nose, the other a shorter Japanese guy wearing thick but stylish glasses, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on a couch in what looked like their living room. As they were being interviewed, a pigtailed toddler tumbled into frame, crawling her way up on the couch. The couple talked about the challenges of adoption, and the panelists zoomed out of the clip to debate amongst themselves. One older man, some kind of comedian or something, seemed skeptical.
Beside them on the couch, Megumi scoffed, without looking up the book he was reading. “That’s stupid,” he grumbled. “If someone wants to raise kids, they should be able to.”
“Right?” Yuji agreed.
Nobara glanced between the two of them, wondering if that was something the two of them were thinking about someday. They’d be good parents, probably. But something about the idea of Yuji and Megumi moving out and starting their own family made her feel a kind of panicky loss. She discarded the thought as quickly as it had come. They were all too young to think about kids, surely.
The next segment began with a clip of a two men and a woman in a kitchen, involved in the routine of preparing a meal together. Roommates? Nobara wondered.
The camera continued to follow them around, the woman taking one of the mens’ hands, while he leaned over to give the other man a kiss.
Ah. Not roommates, then. Nobara felt a little embarrassed, like she was seeing something she shouldn’t be, even though it was just a chaste peck on the cheek. The panelists seemed to be echoing the surprise she felt.
“Jason (42), Lisa (33), Andrew (35),” the voiceover explained, “three Americans, are in a polyamorous relationship.”
The segment changed over to an interview format like the previous clip.
One of the men began speaking to the interviewer in English, before his voice was covered over by Japanese dubbing. “Lisa and I started dating a few years before we met Andrew, and then it was like things just clicked.”
The woman giggled behind her hand. “We weren’t really looking to open up the relationship or anything, we both just really liked him. It was like he filled this place that we hadn’t even known was missing.” The second man sitting next to them looked embarrassed at the attention, but fond. It reminded her of the kind of expression Megumi made when Yuji was saying something nice about him.
Nobara snuck a glance at Yuji to her left. He was watching wide eyed, in surprise or awe, she couldn’t tell. Next to him, Fushiguro had even put a finger in in the pages of his book, raptly watching the segment. She and Yuji usually enjoyed talking throughout shows like this when they had them on, but all three of them found themselves completely silent. The air around her felt charged with a strange potential energy that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“… Guess it can be awkward at first to explain to people, like our parents,” the other man was saying in response to some question from the host Nobara missed. “But I think of my relationship with Jason and Lisa as the same thing as a marriage, even though legally right now I could only get married to one of them. We’re committed to each other, all three of us.“
Nobara hardly heard the rest. She felt like she’d been dunked under a waterfall, a whole rush of new possibilities surging past her, drowning out the panelists’ jokes or comments.
A relationship with more than one person? She hadn’t even know that was something people could do. This was different than the couples on the dating apps who were looking for a hookup for one night of fun. These three liked each other, cared about each other, lived together.
Kind of like she and Yuji and Megumi did.
Did that mean something? Did she want that to mean something?
The show moved on to a commercial break, but she didn’t pay any attention to whatever came on next.
***
The next few days passed normally, the weird energy Nobara had felt seeming to dissipate as they continued on with their normal routines. By the end of the week she was pretty sure she’d imagined the entire thing.
Yuji was out of the house at the gym on Saturday morning when Megumi brought it up.
They were sitting quietly at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, when Megumi cleared his throat pointedly, making Nobara look up from her phone.
When she met his eyes, he was fixing her with an intense expression.
“What’s up?” She asked, locking her phone and flipping it over.
“Nobara…” She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. It still felt strange, intimate, hearing him call her by her first name. Megumi was always careful with his words, but the way he paused before he continued felt weighty. It made her nervous.
She raised an eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat, looking back down at his cereal bowl for a moment, before he seemed to gather himself.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking hesitant. It was a strange expression on his face.
“I told Yuji I should talk to you first. We didn’t want him to just barrel into everything.”
She squinted at him. “What’re you talking about?”
“Nobara. You’re very important to us. To me.”
She frowned at him. “Uh? Okay?” She knew that, obviously.
“And I know this is something you might not want, but if you did — want, that is —”
Nobara took pride in not being someone who would shy away from things, but she had to look away from the intensity of Megumi’s gaze. “‘…Want?’ What’re you saying?” Her heart was beating faster. She could feel it in the base of her throat, almost like it wanted to leap up out of her chest.
“Just that we both care about you a lot.”
“Sure, yeah, I care about you guys a lot too.” As if that wasn’t obvious. As if that was something they had to talk about like this. Surely Megumi and Yuji both knew that at this point. It felt like Megumi was trying to get at something more than that, though. Something Nobara wasn’t going to try to imagine or intuit. He was going to need to come out and say it.
“Okay,” Megumi nodded. “Good.”
She nodded along with him. “Oookay?”
He reached across the table, quick as a snake, and she tensed before realizing he was just covering her hand in his. He glanced up at her, as if afraid she’d pull away, and gave her fingers a quick squeeze, dropping her hand again as quickly as he’d first taken hold of it.
“Thanks, Nobara,” Megumi said. “Think about it?” He got to his feet to take his cereal bowl to the kitchen sink.
“Uh, sure,” Nobara responded automatically, not sure what it was she was supposed to be thinking about. She stared down at her hand where it still lay flopped against the table, like a dead fish. Why did it feel like they had just had a pivotal conversation, while simultaneously not saying anything at all? Megumi had just walked away assuming something, and she didn’t even fully understand what. All this beating around the bush was really starting to annoy her. That was what the fluttering feeling in her chest was about, surely: irritation.
***
Yuji took her aside later that day, putting an arm around her shoulder. He looked handsome in the warm glow of the afternoon sunlight. When had she started thinking of him as handsome? The thought had just slipped in there one day.
“Did Megumi talk to you?”
She nodded, throat suddenly dry. Yuji’s face split into a big smile.
“Good!” He replied. His smiles were always so infectious. It made it hard not to smile in return.
He scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. “So uh, whaddyou say?” His eyes widened as if having a sudden thought, and he dropped his hand off her shoulder. “Uh, no pressure or anything! I know Megumi said you needed to think about it.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. She felt like she’d seen him make that expression before, but couldn’t quite place it.
Think about it, Megumi had said. We both care about you a lot. He’d held her hand. If you did want…
The gears in her brain suddenly slotted into place. She’d finally figured out what the look on Yuji’s face had reminded her of. It was the same way she used to see him look at Megumi, equal parts eagerness and nervous anticipation, like he was hanging on Megumi’s every word. And now that was how he was looking at her.
Her heart gave a dizzy lurch. “Wait. Are you trying to ask me to date you? But the two of you are —” Dating didn’t seem to cover it. Megumi and Yuji were in love. They lived together, they were partners together, they’d saved each others lives more times than the could count.
Then again, she’d saved them, too, hadn’t she? She lived with them, too, was part of their routines.
Yuji swallowed. “And we love you, too. You know?”
She nodded. She did know. She loved them too. But that couldn’t be the same, could it? She opened her mouth to object. “But-”
“We just wanted to make sure you knew you weren’t a third wheel or anything like that,” Yuji concluded. “You’re always welcome, Nobara.”
She flushed. His serious, earnest expression was hard to look at. It made her feel dizzy. “Jeez, okay.”
Something compelled her to take his hand, so she did, giving it a quick squeeze, before ducking away and off to her own room. She needed to think, and she couldn't do that with Yuji looking at her like that.
***
The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze.
Yuji and Megumi asked me out. She replayed the words in her mind. Yuji and Megumi want to date me.
Yuji and Megumi are in love with me.
She loved them, and the life they all had together. But was she in love with them? Did she want to risk the cherished friendship she already had, upset the balance of their relationship by inserting herself in it?
Her phone dinged with a calendar reminder. That’s right -- she’d agreed to meet up with a guy that evening, days before Yuji and Megumi’s confessions. She should honor that, shouldn’t she? Then she could figure out what she felt.
She went through her routine of getting ready, put on her makeup, and got dressed in one of her favorite shirt dresses, white with thin blue stripes. She grabbed her purse and a pair of nude pumps, and headed for the door, past the couch, where Yuji and Megumi were settling down with a bowl of popcorn and a movie.
Yuji looked up at the sound of her feet padding down the hall. “You going out on a date?”
She caught the way he was looking at her, eyes subtly following the curve of her body in her dress, lingering over the gloss of her lips. Had he looked at her like that before?
She checked her watch, considered the train time and the time she’d set to meet, looked back at the two of them on the couch, and sighed. Who was she kidding? Her two favorite people were already right here.
“Nah,” she decided, pulling her phone out of her bag and firing off the message to cancel.
“Huh? Why not?” Yuji looked up at her, expression a mix of concern and maybe, if she wasn’t imagining things, a bit of hope.
Megumi titled his head to the side. He was always the harder of the two of them to read. “Are you sick?”
A smile spread across her face before she could fight it away.
“Just realized I would rather be here. Now scoot over.”
She tossed her purse on the floor by the door and climbed past the kotatsu onto the couch. Instead of sitting on the end like she normally did, she slotted herself between Yuji and Megumi, jabbing them both with her elbows on the way.
“What’re we watching? Gimme a blanket.”
Yuji did as bid, tossing a blanket over her lap. Megumi grabbed the other corner, tucking himself in alongside her.
She grinned at them both. “My answer’s yes, by the way.” She snuggled in under Yuji’s arm, reached for Megumi’s hand and tangled their fingers together. “Of course it’s yes.”