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Itadori Yuji didn’t really like the rain. Well— he did. Just not in the way some people did, where they’d perch by a window and take in the sound of droplets against a cool window pane. His grandpa often did that, albeit, he would quietly murmur his complaints about the mud and weeds that the weather would leave behind. Yuji liked rain in the same way he imagined as a child that planets liked to be watered. He liked walking through the downpour, feeling the cool droplets on his face, in his hair, even if his clothes got soaked and he left a trail of mud all the way into his dorm.
It was a simple pleasure. What started as a genuine and unfortunate accident one time in Sendai became an unconscious pattern that he had grown to enjoy.
In the rain, Yuji felt like nothing more than a young boy being charmingly irresponsible, mischievous if he could dare to afford it. There was no consequence to his actions aside from a little cold skin and heavy clothes. If wasn’t dangerous nor flashy, nor expecting. It was simple, a little unfortunate, but simple. Beneath the rolling grey clouds, he was not a sorcerer clad in black, nor a vessel marked with scars. He was just Yuji. A half-soaked and chilly, but smiling nonetheless, Yuji.
As he walked back to the dorms, Yuji clicked his tongue quietly to a distant song in his head, his feet echoing the rhythm as he trekked through the rain he was caught in yet again. Never one to notice the grey clouds as they rolled in, nor the wet earth scent that storms gave in forewarning, Yuji was left without an umbrella. (He wasn’t even sure he owned one). And yet, he was more content to take the long way back, bright brown eyes, slightly darker in hue in the dim overcast, taking in how empty the grounds of Jujutsu Tech looked.
He wore a small, content smile as his hands patting against his pants gently to the rhythm he hummed. Something about the way the droplets soaked through his hair and clothes, the way it beaded along his skin, made him feel pleasantly insignificant. Lighter, ironically. It made him feel human when he so often was overwhelmed by the weight of what lurked within him. Who lurked within him.
Having Sukuna within his skull felt like a bomb waiting to go off. It was like sword that had a sickening way of making him a more powerful sorcerer, but simultaneously, that same sword threatened to fall from a fraying rope suspended above Yuji’s own head, bringing about his bloody end. The worst part about it wasn’t even that Sukuna’s sneers kept him up at night, or that Yuji found his muscles perpetually tense in the ongoing effort to remain in control, or even two scars that had formed beneath his eyes like taunting the permanent reminders that Sukuna had a claim to his body. The worst part about it all was the danger the King of Curses posed to those he cared about.
The danger he posed to his friends and the danger he posed to you.
Yuji had long since learned to brave the pressure of the new life he carried. He walked in the rain, even if it left him cold, he bore the weight of his responsibility to house Sukuna as dutifully as he could. But the pressure compounded nonetheless. On the days he could feel a dull ache press behind his eyes and within his skull, on the days Sukuna’s voice grated his teeth and frayed his nerves, Yuji found himself wondering if he simply liked the rain or if he found kinship with the clouds, for they could only hold so much before they cried, and cried, and cried. On the worst days, he couldn’t escape the reality that he, to the jujutsu world around him, was merely a tool. A cog meant only to exorcize curses until he was granted the release of death. Until he could fulfill his grandfather's wish to die surrounded by those who loved him. He hated feeling that way; he hated even thinking like that, but Yuji could narrowly escape his own feelings.
Thunder clapped in the distance, its shrill echoing through the sky.
Yuji let out a quiet breath, the lines of his shoulders partially slumped from the aches of training as he walked through a slightly muddy patch of grass. The song he hummed had quieted, the content smile dipping into a more somber expression. The storm overhead was not overbearing, but he had been walking long enough that his bright pink hair had deepened in its shade, sticking to his forehead. Cold water soaked through his navy blue uniform, the slight breeze that nipped at his clothes and hair making everything feel that much colder.
Despite the chaos in the weather, his mind was quiet enough to admit that he was absolutely spent. Itadori Yuji was tired. And cold, and nursing a dull migraine that at least the cool droplets against his hair helped with. It was in these moments of silence that he was left to his own thoughts. As his shoes finally met the wooden floors of the dormitory halls, he slowed to a stop at the convergence in hallways that separated the wings of the building.
In truth, Yuji didn’t even notice when the habit of making his way to your dorm after a long day had started. It had seemed as easy as an instinct ingrained into him.
His body was turned toward the wing of the building where your room was, but his mind had stopped him in his tracks. He was tired, and wet, and cold, (and muddy), and he didn’t want to drag all of his mess into your clean room. But admittedly, selfishly, he also didn’t think he could stomach being alone.
That was the real curse of it all, he supposed. Yuji was quick to care deeply, eager to help, to bumble around and socialize, keeping the ones he loved close. And yet, the rot he housed demanded caution. He could feel it fester and churn his insides, like if it could, it would make a meal out of his bones and his heart. The rot inside him demanded restraint, a will of iron to fight Sukuna’s own. It demanded isolation; it demanded his very soul.
If Yuji couldn’t contain the Heian era sorcerer, then what purpose did he serve? What good was he?
His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes shut as he tried to center his mind. He took in a deep breath, focusing on the distant sound of rain against the outside of the dorms.
It isn’t selfish to want things, he reminded himself, more like a hollowly memorized mantra than something he really believed.
But, as always, you had a point when you had first told him that. You had found Yuji sitting outside after another of his exhausting days. He’d confided in you for the first time, and your assurance came like cold water in a desert drought.
“It isn’t selfish to want things. It’s human.” You had given him such a soft smile when you said it. Not of sympathy, not of pity, but of assurance. The kind he clung to, the kind he found himself going back for, even when a part of him was doused with worry that getting closer to you meant putting you in danger.
You were patient. He was cautious. But in some odd months, your room had become as good as his, his hoodies found their way into your dresser, and your laugh lingered in his mind like a saving balm. A smooth salve to combat the rougher edges of Sukuna’s presence. In those same months, Yuji became known for talking about you constantly. Somewhere between Gojo’s teasing and Kugisaki’s loud support, he had found the courage to ask you out. In those months, the pinup poster in Yuji’s room that Fushiguro openly judged him for had been taken down without you having to ask, replaced by pictures of Yuji and you. (And Kugisaki and Fushiguro, and Gojo and Nanami— mostly you, though). A shrine to those he loved. To his reasons to continue on.
“It isn’t selfish to want things. It’s human. You are human, Itadori.”
Yuji exhaled quietly into the silence of the hallway, eyes opening with a decision in his mind as he made his way toward your dorm. His hands relaxed in surrender, the exhaustion and heavy clothes weighing his steps down more than usual. Ijichi would chew him out tomorrow for leaving a trail of mud everywhere (and then, for going to the girls' dorms, where he knew he should not be after dark), but like everything else, it would just have to wait.
*
Your room was mostly tidy. Weekend shopping sprees with Nobara meant bags and bags worth of clothes to put away in your dresser, and finally (days later), you managed to get around to setting things in order.
The day had been mildly normal. Classes, training, lunch with the other first years, sparring with Maki, and finally, you managed to sink back into the comfort of your dorm and relax.
The night was quiet, the soft sound of rain outside tranquil and soothing. You sat at your desk by your window, your room mostly colored in the deep blue of the stormy night sky. A single, warm-toned lamp cast a yellow glow on your desk, your laptop, and the paper you had just finished typing up. You hummed with triumph as you let your headphones hang around your neck, your music paused as you finally closed your laptop.
As silence filled the room, only broken by your breathing and the rain, you turned your head to face your window. A sigh left you as your eyes caught the beads of water running down the glass in quick streams. You liked the rain, the scent that came with it, the routine of falling asleep to it, the distant memory of scampering around outside as a child before getting scolded and wrapped in warm towels. To you, it was comfortable. Even if it scared others, you’d always appreciated it.
You settled into the silence peacefully, arms crossing over your chest, keeping you closer to the soft, orange hoodie you wore that smelled like Yuji. Your thoughts roamed for a brief moment until they settled onto him. You hadn’t seen him since lunch. Your fingers twitched beside you in the instinct to reach for your phone and text him.
Before you could, a quiet knock sounded at your door, startling you out of your mind.
“One second!” You called to the door as you stood, taking your headphones off and resting them on your closed laptop.
When you opened your door, your breath hitched, eyes widening lightly as they took in a very wet and cold-looking Itadori Yuji. More than that, Yuji was a heartbreakingly accurate picture of exhaustion. His shoulders were slumped, his hair darker and sticking to his forehead. There was a weight in his brown eyes that seemed to have his head ducked slightly, like he couldn’t bear to keep it up. A silent frown pulled at the edge of his lips.
The sight cleaved something in your chest. His lips parted to speak, his head beginning to shake side to side slowly, like he was forming the beginning of an apology, but you beat him to it. Instead of speaking, your arms reached out and wrapped around his shoulders. He stiffened for a brief second, like he was hesitant to get water or mud on you, but you only held him closer.
You felt the muscles of his shoulders ease immediately afterward, a deep sigh leaving him as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. He all but melted into your arms, his own coming up to wrap tightly around you, arms shaking from the distant chill of the cold.
Neither one of you spoke. You just held him close, a hand coming up to rest in his damp hair.
“You are human, Itadori.”
Yuji kept his eyes closed, holding you as though you’d disappear from him if he let go. You were warm, and you were wearing his jacket, and from where the two of you stood in your doorway, he could feel the warmth of your room beckon him forth. He took his time grounding himself in you, in your scent, the steady beat of your heart he could feel against his chest, your gentle fingers as they ran through his hair. He could have stayed there forever.
“Yuji,” you murmured quietly, arms loosening around his shoulders as you pulled away to see his face.
Letting go reluctantly, Yuji straightened, his head tilting down to meet your gaze across the narrow space between you. You rested a hand against his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone just below the small, eye-length scar beneath his own eye. He leaned his cheek into your touch easily, his hands finding their place on your waist as he finally let his eyes open.
“M’sorry for the mess,” Yuji spoke quietly as his thumbs drew soft, small circles against your sides. Like he needed more warmth from you, his head dipped to rest against yours for a moment.
You couldn’t help but give him a small, soft smile at his apology. A small act of selflessness and regard for others that was so like him. “Save that for Ijichi tomorrow,” your hand fell from his cheek to find his wrist then. Your warm and slender fingers traced the edge of his hand to find his skin cold. You took his wrist gently, pulling away only to tug him into your room.
Yuji followed after you, leaving his muddy shoes outside. His brown eyes not leaving the back of your head as you pulled him deeper into your warmly lit room. He stopped when you did, watching as you turned to face him again. You drew closer, the warm low light of your room casting a glow on your softer expression that made you breathtaking. Yuji couldn’t help but stay still as if not to disturb your expression. Something quieted in his mind finally, the tense muscles in his back and arms easing further as you settled in front of him. He watched your hands as they reached up to undo the buttons of his jacket. Your gaze was intently focused on your hands, if only not to distract yourself.
With his wet clothes off and discarded in a corner of your room, you helped him dry himself off with warm towels. In some short minutes, you were laughing quietly together at silly innuendoes and the fact that he got caught in the rain yet again. You were more than happy to see him simply smile again, even if that smile was still lined with exhaustion from the day, from the week, or perhaps the past months combined. But warmth was beginning to return to him again. He could feel it settle within his chest like a fuzzy blanket, dissipating the previous chill in his bones.
He knew you didn’t need an explanation, but he would give you one anyway, tomorrow. Right then, all he wanted was to hear your laugh, to drink in the smiles you gave him, and to let himself solidify your previous words in his mind as an unshakable truth. He was human. You made him so.
Dressed in a hoodie and sweats he had left with you some time ago, Yuji followed you as you tugged him to fall into your bed.
You both were a tangle of limbs. His arms wrapped around your waist securely as he tucked you into his side, your arm against his chest as your hand sprawled over his heart, tracing invisible lines in the fabric. Your head rested against his shoulder, allowing him to rest his head atop yours.
You heard him exhale deeply, feeling the beat of his heart beneath your touch finally steady out. His arm left you briefly to grab at your sheets and pull them higher over the two of you until you were both cocooned in warmth and one another.
You could talk about it tomorrow. For now, you shifted closer to him, settling into his own warmth as the rain outside continued to pour.
“Hey,” Yuji’s soft tone caused you to tilt your head up, your eyes finding his own. They seemed lighter now. Tired but content. He gave you a small but sharp grin as he tilted his head down to kiss you.
The kiss was soft, lingering for a moment longer than usual like he was letting a trusted secret pass from him to you. Yuji rested his forehead against yours once again when he pulled away. “Thank you.”
You gave a brief huff of laughter, gently amused as you closed the space between you again and kissed him softly. Your arms wrapped around him gently as he pulled you closer into him.
When you pulled away, you rested your head against his shoulder once more, eyes shutting as you felt his head lean against yours. A content sigh left you quietly. “Of course, baby,” you murmured quietly as the two of you began to drift to sleep together.
In your arms, Yuji was not a vessel, he was not merely a cog with a singular function in a war that was bigger than all of you. In your arm, Yuji was human. He was a boy who loved you and who was loved by you. He was yours, and you, his. And until the hopefully very distant day that he’d die surrounded by those he loved, he would do what he could to end each day like this, with you.
The comfort of the thought lulled him to sleep finally, beginning what would be the first full night of sleep he had in days.