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The sound of waves crashing against the ocean’s surface echoed in your ears as you stared out at the moving waters, shoes kicked off into a pile with the rest of your friend’s. Your hands were tucked safely into your pockets, standing a little ways away from the group of other jujutsu sorcerers with your bare feet mere inches away from the lulling water that danced its way up the sand.
It was winter. The crisp golden leaves of autumn are long gone now— nature’s hardest hue to hold— leaving the tree branches bare in the chilly winter air while flowers close in preparation for the harsh weather that would definitely do damage to their delicate petals.
You can hear Kugisaki and Itadori bickering faintly in the back of your mind, Maki’s dry humour, Inumaki’s spoken rice ball ingredients and Panda’s playful comments— yet the only voice that really sticks out amongst the rest and the sound of crashing waves was his .
Fushiguro, ever so indifferent, had chimed in on the other two first year’s argument after being dragged into it by Kugisaki, who was demanding his opinion on who was right. You fought back the amused twitch of your lips, gaze turning to them just in time to see the feisty brunette kick some freezing cold water at Itadori.
Your nose scrunched, chuckling softly to yourself and shaking your head. They were always bickering those two. You thought idly to yourself, eyes locking with Fushiguro’s for a brief moment.
A flutter settled in your stomach when he raised a questioning brow at you, probably wondering what you were doing standing alone. The corners of your lips curled up into a soft, reassuring smile and you shrugged your shoulders, gaze darting back to the shore and watching as the water creeped closer to your toes.
Unlike Itadori and Kugisaki, who had ran straight towards the freezing water as soon as you had all arrived at the coast, you were more hesitant to dip your feet in— not entirely keen on having your toes freeze and, uselessly , hoping that the water would somehow be warm when you finally decided to do so.
You just had to wait for the right time.
Waiting. Patience. Resolve. It was all your specialty, using time as an advantage— as a tool— to plan out your movements, to plan out what would happen next. You waited before attacking a curse to look for patterns in its behaviour, you were patient when your friends were taking a tad too long for your liking, and you bore the weight of your feelings like a monk that had swore an vow of silence.
You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you had begun to catch feelings for Fushiguro, the exact timeline a little lost on you considering how fast paced your life as a jujutsu sorcerer was. But, it had dawned upon you late one night as you lingered behind with him on the walk back to the dorms after a particularly gruelling mission.
You remembered the flutter in your stomach when you glanced at him, admiring the way the moonlight kissed his pale skin and the way it seemed to make him even prettier than usual. You could also remember the very distinct feeling of ‘ oh shit ’ when you’d realised that your feelings for him had strayed far from platonic. Panic and a little distress settled in as you’d snapped your gaze back in front of you and forced yourself to watch Kugisaki and Itadori chatter while dragging their feet.
Feelings and relationships in the world of jujutsu and curses didn’t mix, especially with the danger levels that came with that sort of lifestyle. The near death experiences that you faced on a daily basis, the trauma, everything.
You wanted to wait for these feelings to pass, to preserve yourself even when your heart pounced and practically begged to jump out of your chest and into his hands every time you were near him. You were patient. You were unflappable. You waited for the right time for everything.
“The water’s not going to get any warmer, you know?” Fushiguro’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, sounding much closer than before.
You whipped your head to the side to see him standing beside you and staring at you with a faint gleam of amusement in his dark eyes. “I know that.” you replied, somewhat defensively. The sand gathered between the gaps of your toes and the water seemed to creep even closer, almost as if the ocean itself was challenging you to take a step in.
“Do you, now?” He mused dryly, raising a brow as you toed back away from the water.
You made a face at him, cheeks heating up— though not from the winter air nipping at your nose. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.” You claimed, raising your chin and giving him a look.
Fushiguro gave you a look in return, one that seemed to scream ‘are you serious?’ as his eyebrows pinched together ever so slightly. You ignored the way your heart skipped at the expression.
“There’s not always going to be a right time for everything.” The boy remarked, somewhat knowingly. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his coat, much like yours were, and his pants were rolled up to prevent them from getting wet.
Your resolve weakened at that.
You knew there was never truly going to be a right time for everything . While you used time to your advantage, it would never truly be your friend.
Because time didn’t wait.
It moved along like the ticking of a clock and the changing of the seasons. Dawn goes down to day, leaf subsides to leaf. Nothing will truly stay. You won’t always get that golden opportunity to do something, to say something. Decisions have to be made— for if you wait too long, it will slip through your fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass
“I know that.” You echoed your words from earlier, eyebrows furrowed in hesitance as you toed closer to the edge. Glancing over at him, something seemed to dawn on you at that moment.
With the sun setting and casting a golden hue over the landscape, he seemed almost soft in this light. Waiting patiently for you to walk into the cold ocean’s shallow ends, planning to join you once you’ve made it in. A warm feeling washed over you at the realisation.
You held your feelings for him like an oath of silence. Preserving, steadfast, obstinate. Waiting for the right moment or perhaps waiting for them to pass.
There would never be a right moment to confess in your life. Not with the lives you lead. Time wouldn’t wait for you, death and danger would always creep at the corners and lurk at the soles of your feet, following like a shadow.
With a deep breath and a sudden newfound confidence, you took a step forward and let the chilling waters wash over your feet. Your face scrunched at the temperature change, a small noise of discomfort slipping past your lips as Fushiguro stepped in after you.
You turned your gaze back to him after composing yourself and slowly adjusting to the cold water biting at your skin, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Guess you were right.” You chuckled.
He didn’t respond. Just merely stared for a moment— silent— before he turned his face to the side and hid his expression in the high collar of his winter coat with a grunt.
The smile on your lips widened at the sight, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks warming. Maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t wait this time.
I mean after all, you shouldn’t wait for the tide just to dip both your feet in.