Chapter Text
Itadori Yuji is a ray of sunshine wherever he goes.
Not because he tries to be—he just is. His energy feels endless, his smile comes easily, and somehow he always manages to make the people around him feel a little better without even trying.
Being the captain of the football team means dealing with a lot on a daily basis. Schedules, practices, pressure before games. Still, Yuji doesn’t usually complain. The sport is something he genuinely loves, and every second he spends on the field fills him with life. Or at least, that’s what he always says, almost like a pre-recorded speech, whenever someone asks him why he works so hard.
Lately, though, practice has become complicated.
Spring arrived along with school festivals, and with them came events, rehearsals, and decorations taking over shared spaces. The fields weren’t always available, and coordinating schedules turned into a constant headache. After talking it over with the captains of other sports teams, they decided Yuji would be the one to represent their interests before the student council.
That’s why he’s walking down the hallway now, heading toward the meeting room, accompanied by Todo Aoi—his vice-captain and inseparable bro.
“Bro, this just isn’t working,” Todo complains as they walk. “We practice way too late and then expect to perform like nothing’s wrong.”
“I know,” Yuji replies. “If we could practice in the morning, the field would be free in the afternoon. We could train without rushing.”
“Exactly, bro. We’d be way more prepared for the season,” Todo says, crossing his arms. “And I’m not planning on losing to the Ragers.”
Yuji laughs.
“That’s why I talked to the other captains. We agreed I’d come talk to the council and see if we can fix the schedule.”
“With Inumaki?” Todo asks.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Yuji says. “He usually handles this stuff, so I figured—”
“Speaking of handling things,” Todo interrupts, “how’s your stomach, bro?”
Yuji frowns.
“Fine.”
“Liar. You were doubled over during practice yesterday.”
“That’s because I ate too fast,” Yuji defends himself. “Not because the food was bad.”
“Bro, it was awful.”
“It wasn’t that bad…”
“Itadori Yuji.”
The voice cuts through their conversation instantly.
Yuji keeps talking for another second before realizing Todo has stopped. He feels a sharp nudge to his arm.
“Bro,” Todo whispers, “turn around.”
Yuji does.
Megumi Fushiguro is standing in front of them.
He has a folder tucked under his arm and that serious expression that never seems to leave his face. He doesn’t raise his voice, and he doesn’t need to—his presence is steady and calm all on its own. Megumi is the president of the student council, someone who earned his position through respect rather than popularity. Quiet, distant, but efficient. When it comes to looking out for the students’ interests, he always delivers.
Yuji freezes.
“Itadori Yuji,” Megumi says. “We had a meeting scheduled for today. I’ve been waiting for you in the council room.”
“Oh—yeah—right,” Yuji stammers. “Sorry, I thought—”
“I’ll leave you to it, bro,” Todo says with an amused grin. “We’ll talk later.”
Before Yuji can reply, Todo is already walking away.
“I, uh… I thought I’d be talking with Inumaki,” Yuji says, scratching the back of his neck. “He usually handles the field stuff.”
“Not this year,” Megumi replies. “I’m in charge of managing schedules and shared spaces.”
“Oh,” Yuji says, smiling a little too much. “That makes sense.”
They start walking down the hallway together.
Megumi explains the situation calmly—the spring festivals, the dates already taken, the council’s priorities, and the possible alternative time slots. He speaks clearly, like someone used to organizing things and being listened to.
Yuji nods and responds now and then, but it’s hard to focus.
The sunlight coming through the windows reflects in Megumi’s eyes, and Yuji finds himself staring a second longer than he should. They’re calm, attentive, a dark color he can’t quite describe. At some point, he stops listening to schedules altogether and starts thinking only about that.
“Itadori,” Megumi says, slowing to a stop. “Are you okay?”
Yuji blinks, snapping back to reality.
“Huh? Yeah—yeah,” he answers quickly. “Sorry. I was listening.”
Megumi watches him in silence, clearly unsure.
“You stopped responding,” he says. “I thought maybe—”
“It’s just that you have really nice eyes.”
The silence is immediate.
Yuji realizes what he said at the exact moment his face starts burning.
Megumi frowns, confused.
“What?”
“I—” Yuji clears his throat. “Nothing. Sorry. Please, keep talking about the field.”
Megumi hesitates for a second, still looking at him like he’s trying to figure him out, before turning back down the hallway.
“As I was saying,” he murmurs, “we can look for afternoon time slots.”
Yuji follows him, his heart pounding, suddenly very aware that working together might be a much bigger problem than he’d expected.