Archive of Our Own

It’s both fast and slow.

Something that settles in that inexplicable way he doesn’t think he has the ability to really define. But it does and while those eyes had once struck the instincts to run or fight and both, now they do more. They make him freeze and want to stay, to always linger.

Now, Yuuji thinks it shouldn’t happen, this kind of crushing feeling you only get in novels and mangas. Yet maybe there is a reason such thing came to be in those stories. Maybe because it had happened to someone before.

Like how it is happening to him right now.

===

The bedsheets are in need of change. Desperately so. His place had been designated to be emptied before all this, and he hasn’t exactly been cleaning up afterwards when he returned. There’s a thin layer of dust on his shelves and table, and the laundry is starting to smell incredibly musty. Gramps raised no slop and Yuuji had been on house duty ever since he got sick.

He pulls the sheets off the bed. As he folds them, Yuuji sniffs and immediately, he feels ridiculous.

They were just sleeping together.

Sleeping. Nothing else.

He shakes his head and lifts the sheets. The laundry room is at the end of the hall, tucked between the storage and garden. The dorm is a constant despite the chaos wrought outside, it’s easy to think of it as a home instead of a base when the quietness settles after you returned from whatever it is that’s happening in the outside world. The rustling trees, the chirping birds, the tumbling of a washing machine…

Yuuji peeks into the laundry room. A familiar head is hunching over a table. He bites his lips, glances at his sheets, but in the end, he enters.

“Oh, hi,” Yuuta looks up, “Morning, Itadori-kun.”

Under the lamp and surrounded by baskets and washers and dryers, Okkotsu Yuuta looks incredibly normal. His smile is tilted, a bit stiff as if his face has only ever learned how to do it recently, yet Yuuji wonders if the bags underneath his eyes are the reason it sometimes seems odd. But it’s a friendly smile, a different one from the times they had first met. Soft and just almost…

Yuuji shakes his head again.

“Morning, senpai,” he greets, noting the shirt in his grip.

Yuuta follows his gaze and he shrugs. “Er, I ripped a button,” he explains. “I really want to fix it, but I’m bad at sewing.” He almost flounders. It’s different from how he is in the battlefield. Yuuji scratches his head, he shouldn’t have stared.

“Isn’t it your usual shirt?” He asks, dropping the sheets in the washer. Finally.

“Yeah,” Yuuta puts the shirt down. “It’s my favourite.”

“You do wear it often, senpai.”

“Well,” Yuuta chuckles, “it was a gift. From Gojo-sensei. Said something about how I should have something new to wear when I was about to study abroad.” He rubs the collar absent mindedly, “It really is a good material, I literally went through everything with it,” he chuckles again and this time, he directs it to Yuuji. Like he wants to share it. “You know how Gojo-sensei is,” he says then.

“Mine was a special order,” Yuuji blurts. “It’s pretty comfy. The uniform Gojo-sensei got me, I mean.”

“That’s sensei, alright,” Yuuta nods and looks down to the shirt again. He sighs. Something about the tiny frown has Yuuji stepping forward.

“Do you still have the button?”

“Hm? Oh yes, here,” he shows it to him.

“I can fix it,” Yuuji studies the ripped seam. “I’m… Well, I was the one mending Gramps’ shirts anyway.”

“Your Gramps? Did you live with your grandpa, Itadori-kun?” There is a sense of awe in Yuuta’s voice that Yuuji doesn’t really get. A bit wistful too. “That must have been nice. How is he now?”

Yuuji rummages the drawer, if nobody had moved it, the sewing kit should be here. “He’s dead,” he answers easily. It doesn’t hurt anymore, after all. “He died right before I joined Jujutsu Tech.”

Somehow that seems like a wrong thing to answer. Yuuta quickly wilts, almost wincing and he fiddles with his fingers. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t know, senpai,” Yuuji tilts his head, “It’s okay.” Aha, found the kit. “It would be just a few minutes.”

Yuuta rubs his arm. “Ah, I’ll just wait here,” he says and Yuuji had thought he would finish his own laundry or wait by the window, but he stands closer to him and hovers. He’s quiet as Yuuji threads the needle and gets to work. Keenly watching, keenly observing. It’s warmer here and none of the dryers are on.

His senpai smells neutral, as if all scents are gone from him except one. Something that Yuuji picks on when he is close to a curse. Yet it isn’t malevolent nor insidious, it’s just there. It’s just that spirit called Rika. A whiff of the general soap the school provides has him backtracking. Wait no, make it two scents. And the latter has already begun to be familiar. It has cloyed on the bed, when they were sleeping together. It’s almost embarrassing how that had been the first nights in a long while that he actually managed to rest. Okkotsu-senpai doesn’t mention it though, not even once. That’s very gentleman of him.

The needle pricks at his finger.

“All done,” he cuts the thread and folds the shirt. “Here, should be good as new.”

Okkotsu-senpai’s smile becomes bigger. “Thank you, Itadori-kun!” He holds the shirt close to his chest, “Really, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Yuuji tries to brush it off. He still glances at him as he busies himself with actually doing his laundry. He’s pouring the detergent when a phone rings.

“Oh,” Yuuta pulls it out of his pocket, “I have to go.” He flits between the basket by his foot and the door. “Uh…”

“I’ll do it,” Yuuji grabs it. “Senpai, you should go. It’s urgent, no?”

“W-well, yes, but…” Yuuta then closes his eyes and takes a breath, “Alright. Thanks. Again,” he ducks his head slightly. Before he fully steps outside, he glances over his shoulder, “If we have the time, then lunch is on me, Itadori-kun.”

Then, he leaves. And Yuuji blinks.

Lunch. They’re going to have lunch together after sleeping together.

He slaps himself.  It’s nothing. It’s nothing. His senpai is just being nice. Nothing more.

It’s times like this he wishes Kugisaki is here. She would snap him out by being a tease or digs into him. He wishes Fushiguro would flick his head and maybe he wouldn’t be a bit palpitating. Yuuji takes a deep, deep breath. Slowly, he releases it.

He should get it together.

===

Lunch, turns out, is taken at the training field.

The onigiri is still warm and Yuuta is sitting right beside him. The sun warms their backs, making them all the more damp from the wringer Gojo-sensei just put them through. The man’s laughing now, walking away while grinning as he makes his way back. It’s still odd to have him back, the nonchalance and the whimsiness are all Gojo Satoru, but something has shifted in the air yet none wants to touch it.

He rips open the wrapping.

“How is it?” Yuuta asks. Bits of rice are on the corner of his lips.

“Good,” he answers, mouth full with a bite. “A bit sour though, but it’s just the plum, right?”

Yuuta stills. “Uh, sour? T-there’s no plum in yours,” he checks the plastic bag. “Oh my, I… Itadori-kun, I think yours expired….” He quickly tries to grab his onigiri. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I wasn’t checking. Here take mine,” he says as he extends the last three onigiris.

Expired food isn’t unfamiliar to Yuuji. No, not anymore. He chugged down several things after Shibuya, electricity being cut off making what food he and Choso found to be in a… less fresh condition. This is vastly milder than those instances.

“It’s alright,” Yuuji breaks off a piece and pops it into his mouth. “It’s not that bad.”

The gaping look Yuuta gives is… something. Milliseconds away from his face genuinely wrinkling in. Within now and then, Yuuta snatches the onigiri. “No, no, don’t eat it anymore. Just throw it away. It’s not healthy, Itadori-kun!”

“It’s fine,” Yuuji frowns, trying to get his expired onigiri back. Yuuta holds his shoulder away with one hand. “I have a strong stomach. I mean, I eat cursed fingers, senpai!”

That has Yuuta stopping and he goes silent. He also lets go of trying to grab the onigiri back. The clouds are shifting overhead, covering them in shadows.

“… That doesn’t mean you should eat bad things,” Yuuta murmurs and it hits Yuuji with the softness of his anger. So much so, he’s not moving when Yuuta takes his hands. “You should take care of yourself more, you know.” He raises his head and oh, Yuuji can’t look away at those eyes locking on him. It’s not good if his senpai can sense his quickening heartbeat. But Yuuta holds his wrist until he places the remaining onigiris on his palm. “Now, come on, eat these,” and like someone changing a film, those eyes lighten up once more and Yuuta coughs, “Um, your senpai tells you so…”

Yuuji looks at the onigiris and then back to him. Yuuta’s frown is like a pout. He can’t help the smile.

“Sir, yes, sir,” he salutes. Much to Yuuta’s sigh and slumped shoulders. “Oh, now this is a plum,” he comments while eating a new mouthful.

Yuuta relaxes and when he retracts his hand, Yuuji already takes a breath. Senpai’s hands are rough and solid, long yet stocky fingers with bitten nails, ridged by the handle of his katana and the familiar creases of martial arts. They would fit well between Yuuji’s own…

No. No, they won’t.

Okkotsu-senpai’s hands manage to protect people. Those are the hands which have saved. Saved him. Not kil for the sake of killing, not failing.  The hands that hold promises and fulfill them.

“Yuuji?”

Get it together.

“They’re good,” Yuuji hums.

It earns a smile. “Eat a lot and eat well as they say,” Yuuta folds his legs. “Take it slow though, I don’t think Gojo-sensei is coming back yet.”

“How do you know?”

Yuuta shrugs and the breeze ruffles his bangs. “Just a hunch,” he leans his cheek on folded arms.

It almost makes Yuuji miss a bite.

===

Night time is for the past visiting the absence of thoughts and getting up to take a leak or refill your bottle. Dragging himself off the blanket, Yuuji yawns as he walks out. It’s dark enough tonight, the moon seems to have disappeared earlier. He tries not to think about how another day has passed in this month.

Rika floating when he pushes past tbe kitchen’s curtain has him jolting.

“Yuuji…” She waves and her face is always smiling with teeth. “Yuujiii.”

“Evening, Rika-san?” She tilts her head. “Sorry, Rika-chan then?” She nods. Yuuji still remembers her hands holding him, her tone of curiosity and the way she nuzzled. Now, in front of him, she’s like a feline on a counter. “Do you need help?”

Rika taps her head. “Yuuta needs help,” she points to her left, “Head hurts.”

Yuuji straightens. “Yuuta-senpai has headaches?” He’s stepping to open the medicine cupboard when there’s shuffling.

“Ah, it’s not that bad,” Yuuta murmurs and Yuuji turns. “Just… some aftereffecrs from the body switching training with sensei,” he smiles but winces and rubs his forehead.

“Yuutaaaa...” Rika nags, going to him. Her big hand cradles his side and she pushes him to sit down. “Yuuji’s here. Can help you, be good….”

At that Yuuta chuckles, a bit guiltily. “Let’s not trouble Itadori-kun, now…” He keeps kneading his brows.

“I don’t mind,” Yuuji fills up a kettle. “Some tea should help and ibuprofen. Er, are you nauseous, senpai?” He checks the bread box.

Yuuta tries shaking his head and he stops himself. “N-no, just… still a bit whoozy, I guess. Six Eyes is… something, hehe,” he replies and this time, he leans on the cushion on the sofa. “Sorry, I think…,” he mumbles into his arm. “And I’m hungry…”

Well, making some grilled cheese is easy enough. And there is a can of tomato soup too. Rika watches on top of him while he lights up the stove and melts the butter. Nobody is awake at this hour and Yuuji opens the window to keep the smell from wafting too much. The brand on the tea is exactly what Gramps liked, he snorts when the kettle whistles.

Yuuta’s eyes sparkle when he places the food and drink down. Oh yeah, he is still high, alright. No wonder Sensei always has his blindfold on, that input for life must be insane and Yuuji had had Sukuna inside him.

He’s not as much as munching as he is nibbling the grilled cheese. Mouth just taking tiny piece and holds it there while he rests his chin on folded knees.

Adorable, Yuuji muses and he hisses when the hot water spills to his finger.

“… thanks, Yuuji-kun,” Yuuta smiles lopsidedly. “I.. I think I should go to bed, haha,” he giggles.

They must have been training the whole day and a half. If Yuuta-senpai is like this. No wonder Rika hasn’t disappeared. The cursed spirit is looking at him now.

“Yuuji help get Yuuta to bed,” she points.

“W-what? I mean, yeah sure, but would senpai mind?”

That senpai is already nodding off, valiantly keeping his head from hitting the wall. He looks tired. Exhausted. Rika is glaring at him and Yuuji rolls his sleeves.

“Alright, then.”

Yuuta is taller, but he feels lighter. Oh, the mass is there – rigid and supple muscles underneath the shirt, but his bones are seemingly, deceptively fragile. Powerful energy thrums under Yuuji’s touch and it’s incredibly cold despite the pinpricks it gives.

Sweat still clings to Yuuta’s skin and this close, there is a muskiness about him. The baby hairs are also a bit damp and several strands are stuck to his nape. Senpai’s lashes are short but curled, saving his eyebags from being too heavy looking on his face.

“Yuujiiii…”

Oh. Right.

They’re here.

The room is a mirror of his own. But the similarity ends there. The shelves are filled with books, color coded and according to titles, some scrolls are stacked and there’s a couple of caligraphy being hung. Shirts and pants are folded neatly, the katana is in a stand and shoes are placed neatly in a row by the door. Okkotsu-senpai’s bed is dark colored and exactly with two pillows only, the mattress almost doesn’t dip as he slumps onto it.

Rika’s busy with closing the curtain and fiddling with the night lamp. She only quips Yuuta should just kick off his sandals before climbing to bed. Yuuji pulls the blanket carefully and Yuuta just pats on it before not using it at all.

“… Y-yuuji-kun,” his hand is weakly grabbed with slurring words.

“Yes? Senpai, do you need anything else?”

Yuuta rubs his face to the pillow. “It’s nothing… just.. maybe stay a bit? My head’s killing me…”

He shouldn’t. Okkotsu-senpai is only exhausted and he doesn’t need him here aside from disturbance. Rika is already disappearing anyway, he should make himself scarce too. Yet Yuuta peeks at him and Yuuji finds himself sitting on the carpet. It gets Yuuta to smile again.

“T-thanks..”

Yuuji lets go and leans against the bed instead. He places his arm on his knee, staring outside between the curtains. It seems like it’s going to rain.

“I don’t really like thunder,” Yuuta sniffs out the petrichor. “When I was little, I was a bit of a scaredy cat.”

It’s hard to imagine. Then again, they never met despite from Sendai both. From the few times Gojo-sensei and the others mentioned, Yuuta has just recently becoming firmer and louder in his stance. How would it have been? If they were friends since primary school?

Yuuji huffs.

No. They would be different still. Yuuta would have been the star, the good boy. A noble growing up. Yuuji probably might have scared him a little. Probably didn’t even lift a fist to punch someone.

It’s some minutes later when Yuuta softly begins to snore. Lile this, it reminds Yuuji of that time in his own bed. There’s no moonlight to illuminate, but Yuuta is soft, nevertheless. Calm, peaceful. The weight and might of being special grade sorcerer is invisible right now.

Yuuji keeps his hands by his sides.

===

He shouldn’t.

Really, he should not.

This feeling that must be controlled. They are in the middle of war. They are training to win. Yuuta has a duty, one that he isn’t going to fail. Unlike him. If there is anything he could do now, is to remain a sorcerer, remain a fighter to exorcise curses, to excise Sukuna from Fushiguro.

This is not the time to…

Despite what people might think, Yuuji knows his place. He understands his role. And a distraction he must not be.

He should get it together. For the others. For everyone and anyone.

Then, Okkotsu-senpai would smile when they pass each other. He would greet and wave. Meals are taken together sometimes, their laundry is often right by each other, and the touches Okkotsu-senpai gave linger well on his skin.

“Mm? Yuuji-kun, you seem distracted.”

Gojo-sensei peers down his glasses, the rubbles of their recent training are scattered far from him. It’s quiet around them now, his voice is clear in Yuuji’s ears.

“Nah,” he stretches and jumps down, “just… thinking a bit. Sorry, should we continue?”

Blue eyes observe him and they both know Yuuji doesnn’t tell the whole thing, but Gojo just hums. His sensei is kind like that. Instead, he pats his head.

“In thirty,” Gojo acquiesces. Then, he flicks a glance to the entrance. “Ah, Yuuta-kun, you’re here early!”

Yuuji whips around and there he is. Senpai is wearing the white shirt again, the katana slung over his shoulder. He slightly bows to Gojo-sensei, but to Yuuji, he waves and jogs up to him. The steps he makes match the beating in Yuuji’s ribcage. It takes a few seconds for Yuuji to know where to put his feet as he stands there.

“Maki-san let me go earlier than I thought,” Yuuta replies, then extends two bottles of green tea. “Here, brought you something.” When Yuuji takes too long, he closes the distance. “It’s really refreshing, I tried it,” he ensures.

Their fingers brush against each other, Yuuta’s a bit wet from the condensation and Yuuji might have pulled away too quickly as Yuuta raises a brow. But he doesn’t say anything while Yuuji uncaps the bottle. It’s sweet and cold, exactly how he likes it. He sighs after he chugs a fourth of it.

Yuuta smiles, relieved and glad. It’s the kind that focuses solely on Yuuji and it’s…

It feels warm despite them not touching.

Yuuji blinks and he shakes himself inside.

Ah, he thinks, this feeling is really here to stay.

===

Zenin-senpai leans on the wall when he is making breakfast, arms crossed and she seems much more relaxed in a hoodie. Not less cooler though, no, never her.

“Oi, Itadori,” she starts in lieue of greeting.

“Yeah?” He folds the egg.

She looks around, crosses her arms, then decides to pocket them in the hoodie instead.

“You and Yuuta..”

The egg misfolded.

“Er, yeah?”

“… did something happen?”

He turns off the stove. “No? Why?”

Maki squints at him and shrugs. “Nah, just… thought something did. You both were buddy-buddy until like recently. But,” she shrugs again, “if nothing happened, just forget I asked.”

Oh.

Oh, he is that obvious? Damn.

“Nothing happened, senpai,” he cuts the tamagoyaki, placing them over the warm rice. The grilled salmon are all done too, so he plates them. “I mean, Okkotsu-senpai is nice, and there’s nothing, really.”

He offers a tray to her. Maki looks from it, then back to him. She always looks like a tiger to him. Ready, sharp, dominating even in this setting. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. Was just wondering, that’s all,” she waves it off and takes the breakfast. “Thanks for the food, Itadori. Want me to take the rest to the others?”

“We can do it together.”

“Alright,” Maki already gets the other two. “Been a while,” she muses as they head to the dining room, “for us to actually sit down and have a meal together.”

He hopes it won’t be the last. The days are passing slowly and yet fast at the same time. A month. They have a month between another or not at all. Sometimes it creeps up whenever Yuuji is lulled by the sense of normalcy the dorm and the school have as constants.

The table is full when they get there. A rare, rare sight. Yuuji realizes it’s Maki’s plan all along the moment she takes one of the last two seats, the one beside Inumaki instead.

“Itadori-kun, there’s a seat here,” Yuuta pats the stool.

Maki pops open the soy sauce bottle. Yuuji is the only one left standing. Everyone’s already starting to dig in.

He slides to the stool and if Yuuta notices their elbows brush, he doesn’t say anything. His senpai just munches on the tamagoyaki and he blows on the miso soup before humming quietly after he sips it.

Quaint. It’s quaint like this.

This month, at least, has something quaint In it.

Yuuta-senpai eats a lot.

Somehow, it almost makes Yuuji chuckle. He doesn’t mind making seconds if he’s still hungry. They’re the same in this.

===

It’s a couple days later, nearing the end of the second week when Yuuji bumps into Yuuta during sunrise. The alarms – the charms the staff managed to spread out from the perimetre – have some of them burning. A sudden influx of curses coming in from the south, following some signs of normal energies. Hunting them down.

“I think we have survivors trying to reach the barrier,” Yuuta immediately tells him and pivots back to running outside. “Ijichi-san and the others are trying their best counting and taking them to safety, but we all are spread thin… I already informed Gojo-sensei that I’m going.”

He is gripping the katana’s belt tight and the second they hit the school grounds, Yuuta takes off.

“We’re going, senpai,” Yuuji sprints beside him. “I’ll be backup,” he picks up the pace, “If you want me to.”

Yuuta jumps over a wall. “Of course.”

They follow the coordinates shared on the phone. The sun is getting warmer, the town ruins illuminated again and from the south, he could make out a dusty cloud. A cloud of curses.

“It’s small,” Yuuji squints, “but I think I see a couple of people at the front.”

“Being chased then,” Yuuta murmurs, low and enough to cut steel, “We’ll prioritize getting the survivors to safety first.”

He braces his stance and the katana is out now, gleaming and singing in the air as he swings it. Yuuji knows those eyes for a short time, but they are memorable, like a long-time acquaintance. It’s a bit different when he isn’t at the other end of that glare, he feels safe and encouraged.

“Senpai,” Yuuji quips after they are getting closer, “I’ll take care of the curses. You have Rika, you can better protect the survivors.”

Yuuta frowns, but he doesn’t disagree. In his observing glance, there is trust. “Alright,” Rika appears behind him, she tilts her head this way and that, and for a second, she waves at Yuuji. “Please make sure they are far away from the survivors, I’ll find a safe spot before joining you.”

“Okay,” Yuuji perches on a fence. He cracks his knuckles, then halts before he scratches his head. “Er, is the signal good? Or do we use smoke signals?”

Yuuta blinks and laughs. “I got two bars, it should be fine.” Then, with a gentle hand, he pats his shoulder. “See you soon, be careful, Itadori-kun.”

Yuuji’s used to being slapped on the back for sport and being bonked or has his head ruffled. The rough housing as affection and comradery. Yuuta’s is soft, a slight caress for good luck. Yuuji shudders and nods.

“Mm, you too, senpai.”

And he jumps down.

===

The curses are like a zoo. They’re dissonantly loud, cruelly crude, and messy. Yuuji pivots when another explodes from his fist, avoiding the slip as he flips away when yet one more tries to make a swipe at him. Curses do not work together, but they do so love to attack together. He weaves down the stairs, blocking and then grabbing some legs before swinging them at a flying insect. The momentum hits the others behind it, crashing down on parked cars and Yuuji swipes broken glasses at their eyes.

They shriek and as they try to pluck out the glasses, Yuuji lands on top of the skull. It cracks like egg, spilling gore that quickly evaporates when the sun hits the blood. Several jabs make the few crawling up to him to fall, they stain the abandoned laundry by the balcony. Yuuji huffs and as he wipes sweat off his brow, he begins counting the remaining curses. Some bird-looking things and a wormy one, a big one.

Using the railing, he builds momentum and pulls down a tail. The curse wriggles, but he holds its neck and breaks it. Its screech doesn’t completely cover the approaching footsteps.

“Itadori-kun!”

He glances over his shoulder. Yuuta skids and he readies his katana, but he doesn’t swing, he throws it. It wooshes past Yuuji. A curse croaks right behind him and the blood squirts on his back. The handle is rough yet well-loved as he grips it, and as he beheads the last bird, he notes one thing amongst the gore. It’s still warm.

The worm’s eyes zero in on Yuuta in a splite second. And Yuuji pulls its tail, feet digging to the dirt.

“Senpai!” He tosses the katana, the moment the worm whips about. “Hold still, you…!” He lifts it off the ground.

It screams and Yuuji is dragging it when steel zings in the air. A familiar sound, a familiar noise. Once upon a time, he would have avoided it. Now, he looks to it.

“Hold it still…” Yuuta mutters and with an exhale, he slashes. A breeze follows soon after, chilling Yuuji’s skin in a flash before the day’s temperature brings it all back down.

Between the fallen pieces of the curse, Yuuta stands. And with the spray of purple at his back, this close, Yuuji can smell the roiling cursed energy he is seeping out. A special grade, a powerful sorcerer.

A beautiful one.

This, Yuuji doesn’t shake off the thought.

“Itadori-kun?”

Yuuji still is half hunched.

“Are you okay?”

He pats his side before he nods. Remembers to. “All good, Yuuta… senpai,” he looks around, “All the curses are exorcised.” He gives a thumbs up.

A sigh leaves Yuuta.

“Good, that- that’s good,” he glances at his hand and gives a thumbs up also. “Great job, Itadori… Yuuji-kun.”

His heart thuds a bit harder, a bit quicker. He’s trying to get used to it when Yuuta hops off and slips. Yuuji dives forward, knee folding and arm extending. The weight against him takes his breath slightly away, but not due to the heaviness. It’s the nicety of it, the softness of having someone almost crushing you.

“Oh my god! Sorry, sorry,” Yuuta climbs off him, face flushing and limbs askewed. “Sorry, sorry,” he fixes Yuuji’s hoodie and pulls him to his feet.

Oh, he really likes his hand wrapping around his. He can get used to it.

“It’s okay, senpai,” he says, not letting go yet. “I think we’re done here. Shall we go back?”

Yuuta still has scarlet on his cheeks, but he nods. “Yeah, let’s… let’s go.”

He tightens his grip and Yuuji hopes they can stay like that a tad longer.

===

The sun is high on the sky now, the city hasn’t been restored yet and another day closer to the end of the month, but this. This, Yuuji thinks, should be allowed. At least just this once.

There are still so many things to do. So many matters which Yuuji needs to take responsibility for, to find answers and solutions for. But this. For one small second, it gives him a bit of hope. A blind one, perhaps.

Maybe when all is over and a new sun rises over their bruises and cuts, then he can dig deeper into this thing beating inside his chest. Maybe he would be allowed to have this. Maybe then, it wouldn't be much too selfish. For now, Yuuji isn’t going to be a burden. For now, they must become far stronger and watch their sensei.

“Senpai,” Yuuji calls out after they escort the survivors out of the ruined city, “Do you think sensei will win?”

Yuuta fiddles with his fingers. “He will,” he replies, then putting away his sheathed katana he turns to him, “and we will be there for him too. Which means… I’ll be counting on you,” he smiles and it’s bolder, brighter, “Yuuji.”

Survive. They have to survive.

He nods.

“Senpai.”

“Yes?”

Yuuji swallows down the words, the thoughts. “… Nothing,” he stretches and begins walking, “Let’s do our best.”

Yuuta agrees. Side by side, they return to the school grounds. Side by side, they both know – another day is going to pass again.