Chapter Text
The bell rings outside the school, and the murmur of students rises like a wave of small heads quickly getting ready for class. The gentle summer sun streams through the windows, and a flower-scented breeze drifts in through the open doors.
Yuuta adjusts his bag strap while blindly searching for the small key to his locker, feeling among his books for the small tiger-shaped pendant, although he would never admit it; It was an exchange with Megumi for a month of housework.
Beside him, Megumi is too focused on the music in his headphones to have the decency to say goodbye to his older brother and opens the locker with quick movements while humming a song that Yuuta can't find the rhythm of and leaves without looking back.
"Good luck to you too." Yuuta mutters to himself when his brother ignores him, not looking at him since he left home that morning.
Megumi had ignored him even on the train! Damn brat.
Yuuta drops his bag beside his locker and frantically searches for his shoes, leaving his outdoor sneakers behind. His movements are mechanical, performed without much thought; the constant murmur of arriving students is like white noise to his mind.
Then he hears Kasumi's voice from across the hall in front of him. The light blue-haired girl from the other class greets him cheerfully. "Yuuta! Did you do your English homework for today?"
“Yes, although I did what I could,” he replies gently, returning the greeting with a slight nod and nervously scratching her cheek. “But I can help you with what I did, Miwa.”
"Deal! I owe you one, as always." The girl gets up with renewed spirits, waves goodbye with a quick gesture, and runs with short steps to her small group of companions who are waiting impatiently for her.
Yuuta receives a few sporadic greetings from other students in lower grades and some senpais who congratulate him on his re-election as class president for that year; his ears are flushed by the end.
Being student council president has as many benefits as drawbacks for a boy as shy as him; and the constant exposure to being recognized is a necessary evil he must endure to maintain his classmates' trust. Such a demanding job!
Yuuta waits patiently for two figures to appear at the door, his gaze lingering on his phone's clock. While it's a bad habit of both of them to arrive just before the last bell, their punctuality is comical when he looks up and sees them both arriving together. With pinpoint accuracy.
Maki and Toge arrive at the entrance a minute before the bell rings through the slowly emptying corridors and take their time getting to their respective lockers.
Yuuta should scold them, but he has a special place in his heart for both of them, especially his best friend and star athlete at school. Her perfect excuse is evident in her slightly flushed cheeks and the sweatpants she wears under her uniform skirt.
Her short, black hair is disheveled in unruly strands that cling to her face, a clear sign that he's just returned from his morning track and field practice. "Good morning, Mr. President."
“Stop calling me that.” Yuuta rolls his eyes mockingly and hides a small smile on his lips as he watches Maki’s purple gym bag slip from her arm and fall to the ground with a thud. The girl slumps down onto the small wooden step to sit down and take off her sneakers.
“But that’s what you are now, you idiot.” Maki says, avoiding eye contact and concentrating on quickly untying her shoelaces. “Tell him, Toge. He’s not one of us anymore, he’s the teachers’ favorite brainiac.”
Yuuta turns his head just enough to see Toge, who is silent, his shoulders twitching in a soft chuckle. His face mask covers half his face, but his black eyes meet Yuuta's blue ones. He waves his hands in a lazy greeting. "Good morning."
"Good morning to you too, Inumaki." Yuuta returns the greeting with a smile, and watches his best friend perform all his movements with such smoothness that a cloud of tranquility forms around him.
The sound of heavy footsteps breaks the silence, and Maki is standing beside Yuuta. She uses his shoulder for support as she adjusts the edges of his indoor shoes and straightens the bandages covering his knees.
Yuuta lets her lean on him, tilting his body to be her center of support as he watches with furrowed brows the fleeting expression that shapes Maki's face before disappearing in the blink of an eye. "How are you still doing that? You should take your break more seriously, Maki."
Maki pats Yuuta's shoulder and bends down one last time to pick up her bag again, giving her best friend a sweet look and squeezing his cheek a little too tightly before speaking. "I'm better, this is just a precaution. I'm a high-performance athlete! This won't stop me."
Toge joins them to one side, closing the small circle as he looks first at Maki and then at Yuuta, shaking his head; he raises his hands to begin forming hand signals. "The coach told her the same thing this morning, she should continue resting before running again."
"You're a snitch, Toge!" Maki complains as she tries to punch his best friend in the stomach, but her fist deflects before it touches him and they start a small free-for-all trying to hit each other.
Why did I choose to have friends? Yuuta questions himself and stops the small, childish battle between his two best friends by holding both of their fists while letting out a soft sigh.
“Stop messing around.” His voice wasn’t threatening at all; it was actually gentle, a plea to both of them. He let them go after giving them a warning look. Yuuta then bent down enough to pick up his bag. “We’d better get to the lounge before it gets late.”
The three of them are about to leave; the last bell has rung, and the school gates will soon be closing. Yuuta is just about to realize they're turning back when a small shadow on the horizon begins to take shape, growing larger and larger as it approaches.
The scent of the approaching spring flowers intensifies for a moment, and the morning sun subtly enters through the windows, reflecting off the pink wisps of hair that cross the threshold of the glass doors like a gust from a disordered tornado.
"Damn, dammn, I'm going to be really late." It's the first thing you hear in the entire entrance; the voice echoes off the cold walls and between the lockers that no longer house anyone.
Yuuta couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing; and for a moment he thought it was all just another one of his dreams.
Itadori Yuuji finally arrived at class. His hair fell over his flushed, sweat-beaded face as his hands rested on his knees; the sound of his ragged breathing mingled with the curses he sighed as he tried to catch his breath after a marathon. His backpack slumped to one side of his body, dangling in disarray from one shoulder.
Yuuji's tie is poorly adjusted and the first buttons of his white shirt are undone, revealing the length of his neck and the shy beginning of his collarbones from that position.
Everything stopped for him at that moment, and he couldn't understand that his childhood love was there again, in front of him, once more.
Yuuta was about to fucking faint right now.
When his breathing calms and he lifts his face at the sensation of being observed, that is when his eyes meet and everything has ceased to make sense, or to feel real, and the world has stopped spinning on its axis, and the colors become brighter or perhaps the sun has become warmer.
Yuuta locks eyes with Yuuji, who is a couple of meters away from him, his cheeks flushed from running to school and his breath catching in his throat, he's short of air, but he takes a big gulp of air to fill his chest and avoid the heat that climbs from his neck to his cheeks without stopping.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
A cough interrupts Yuuta's internal catatonia, restoring order to his thoughts, allowing him to breathe again, or perhaps simply snatching him from the sky he was about to touch as he continued to watch Yuuji's eyes looking at him.
"Oh! Yuuta-senpai?" His voice is sweet as honey, velvety and melodious. Yuuji always had such a strong desire to speak, to say his name.
Yuuta's friends have to wave their hands in front of his face to make sure he's breathing. He is. But Yuuta feels like the air isn't reaching his brain enough for it to function properly.
Itadori Yuuji. Is this the same Itadori Yuuji ? The mischievous boy with pink hair like flowers and chubby cheeks like chocolate chip cookies.
It's pathetic that Yuuta still remembers that childish description of the boy standing in front of him right now. Yuuta feels his pulse pounding like two hammers in his ears.
Yuuta isn't sure what to say; his lips feel dry and a huge lump in his throat prevents him from responding properly. Of course, his friends notice this, and they also notice the change in Yuuji's expression for a second when the silence stretches longer than expected.
"It's him, yes. Who are you?" Maki breaks the silence of the empty hallways and approaches the student. She's a wary cat who twitches her fluffy tail curiously as she closes the distance with the newcomer.
"Itadori Yuuji! Good morning. I'm so sorry I'm late, I'm still not used to the train schedule." Yuuji scratches the back of his neck shyly and gives a short bow; his eyes, though focused on the girl in front of him, also glance over his shoulder at Yuuta's presence.
Inumaki frowns as he watches Yuuta silently continue, until a sharp pinch jolts him out of his reverie; the pain of Toge's nails digging into the skin of his hand makes him react.
“G-good morning… Itadori-kun.” Yuuta stammers his first words, and the gesture makes him want to die inside. He clears his throat to make himself heard. “W-what a surprise… to see you here. You’re the transfer student from Sendai? I never… would have guessed.”
The answer widened Yuuji's smile, who, perhaps deliberately (or not), ignored Yuuta's childish babbling. He straightened his uniform as he replied, "I am! I thought Megumi would tell you about my return to Tokyo. I didn't know a shy boy like you would become student council president!"
Of course. Megumi would know. Damn brat.
Yuuta lets out a long sigh as he closes his eyes, trying to gather his composure from the floor and, of course, get his feet back on the ground so he can focus on his role. He's right, he is the student council president. He must act like it.
"No, he didn't mention anything at dinner." Yuuta restrained himself from rolling his eyes with the suppressed anger he felt towards his younger brother and received a shy giggle from Yuuji that made him focus on his face.
Could this Yuuji be the Yuuji who still lives in his memory? Yuuta can't understand it; he still thinks it's a damn joke, or maybe the best dream he's had in years.
He never wants to wake up.
"So... you two know each other?" Maki broke the silence. Yuuta felt a shiver run down his spine at the interruption; he'd forgotten his friends were there. Maki's gaze was especially curious about him, and Yuuta didn't know how to feel about it.
Before he could reply, Yuuji spoke first; "That's right! Yuuta-senpai is an old childhood friend. I'm so surprised that you're the first person I've seen!"
"So, senpai, huh?" Maki punches her best friend in the ribs so hard he doubles over in pain. Yuuta glares at her but says nothing. "It's a pleasure, Itadori Yuuji. I'm Zenin Maki! Unfortunately, I'm also Yuuta's friend."
Yuuji's genuine laughter at the cruel comment makes Yuuta's skin prickle beneath his uniform, and he looks at Yuuji again. His hands have been sweaty and trembling ever since he arrived, and Yuuji looks so unreal in the golden halo of morning light streaming through the windows that Yuuta keeps wondering if this is a dream or a nightmare.
"This is Inumaki Toge." Yuuta finishes introducing his friends. Toge simply nods, which Yuuji responds with a deep bow. Always so polite and respectful, Yuuta wants to shout.
"I think it's time to go, President." Maki breaks the tense silence that has formed in the entrance as she reaches for Inumaki's arm to cling to it, but she doesn't take her eyes off Yuuta; although teasing is sure to follow, Yuuta can see genuine concern in Maki's eyes. "We'll be late for class. Don't worry, we'll tell the teacher about your new assignment!"
Yuuta simply nods and can feel a migraine rising up his spine. Maki bids Yuuji farewell as well: "Goodbye, Itadori-kun. Good luck and welcome to Tokyo!"
"Goodbye and thank you, Zenin-san." Yuuji still smiles gently, his cheeks slightly pink, and gives a short bow to the pair of teenagers who disappear into the school hallways. Silence falls between him and Yuuta.
Yuuta studies Yuuji's profile in such detail that he has to look away when he's caught himself staring too long. Now he himself is blushing to the tips of his ears; the soft sound of his bag's leather strap being stifled in his nervous hands.
"I think we should start too." Yuuta breaks the silence with his soft voice, having to straighten his back to avoid falling flat on his face. Instinctively, he straightens his tie when he sees Yuuji reach for his collar. "We should go get your schedules, and I'll show you around the school a bit before I drop you off at your classroom."
Yuuji gazes at Yuuta with those dazzling honey-colored eyes, his pupils trembling with nerves, but he nods like a good, obedient puppy and follows the class president right beside him. "Even if I'm running late?"
“Don’t worry, I won’t report that to the teacher.” Yuuta replies softly, and the echo of his footsteps fades into the endless length of sunlit hallways. Yuuta may never know that his response brought a smile to someone else’s face.
Classes began the moment Yuuji arrived, just before the last bell. So the hallways were deserted at that hour; they walked in sync but at a slow pace: Yuuji's head turned to take in every detail his attentive eyes could, trying to memorize the entire route to the teachers' lounge.
They arrived quickly; the walk seemed light and short for both of them. They entered with soft steps so as not to disturb the teachers who were on their break. Yuuta encouraged Yuuji to go in before him as he accompanied him.
The teachers' lounge has a peculiar smell of old paper and printer ink that mingles with the aroma of green tea that someone left to cool on a desk. Yuuta crosses the threshold with measured steps, feeling the weight of Yuuji's gaze just behind his left shoulder, so close that he could turn his head and brush his cheek with the tip of his pink hair if he dared.
"Good morning, Sensei," Yuuta greets the administration professor with a bow, as he looks up from a pile of papers. His voice is firm and practiced, the same one he's rehearsed for months for student council meetings. "I have here the transfer student from Sendai, Itadori Yuuji."
Yuuji stands beside him, his hands clasped behind his back, his fingers interlaced in a gesture Yuuta recognizes from childhood: the same one he used when waiting his turn on the swing or when his grandfather scolded him for getting his clothes dirty. His eyes scan the room with restrained curiosity, pausing at the notice boards, the academic calendar, the wall clock that reads 8:47.
Yuuji speaks with shy fluency: student ID number, previous grades, courses taken, transfer documents. And when he finishes, the teacher nods approvingly and slides a manila envelope onto the table. "Here are your schedules and the campus map. Japanese literature class is first thing, so don't linger too long on your way around, Itadori-kun."
Yuuta takes the envelope before Yuuji can reach out, and feels the other's fingers brush against his for a fleeting moment. Yuuji's skin is warm, as if he'd been running in the sun, and Yuuta tucks that information away in a corner of his mind he doesn't intend to revisit later.
"I'll take it, Utahime-sensei." Yuuta bids farewell with another nod, and as he turns on his heels, he finds Yuuji's smile so close he can see the shape of his eyelashes, the moist sheen of his parted lips.
The hallway stretched out before them, bathed in the golden light that filtered through the leaded glass windows. Yuuta took the lead, his footsteps clattering confidently against the waxed wooden floor, but his heart was beating like a hummingbird trapped in his chest.
"The main building has three floors," Yuuta began, his voice adopting the professional tone he had rehearsed dozens of times for guided tours. "The ground floor houses most of the first-year classrooms, the library, and the cafeteria. The second floor contains the second-year classrooms, like yours, and the third floor is for third-year students and additional administrative offices."
They walked at a leisurely pace, and Yuuta could feel Yuuji's presence right beside him, his warmth radiating across the space between them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pink-haired boy turn his head to observe every corner with curious eyes, his fingers occasionally brushing against the walls as they walked.
When does Itadori Yuuji get so hot? Yuuta wonders to himself.
"The science labs are in the east wing, and the gymnasium is connected by the covered walkway at the end of the main building," Yuuta continued, gesturing with precise directions. "The sports field is behind the gymnasium, and the traditional tea garden is to the west, right next to the greenhouse. Not to brag, but we have a great team of athletes this year; Maki is one of the captains of the women's team."
Yuuji nodded, his eyes following Yuuta's hand movements as if each gesture were a piece of a puzzle he was trying to put together.
"That's good to know, the campus is huge," Yuuji remarked, his voice tinged with admiration, a soft smile playing on his lips as they gazed at the grand building from the second-floor window. "Much bigger than my school in Sendai."
"It has its advantages; we're the biggest school in the city," Yuuta replied, feeling his rehearsed speech begin to flow more naturally. "There's room for almost any club or activity you want to pursue. The student council organizes club fairs at the beginning of each semester so students can explore their interests."
"I never thought you'd be so good at this," Yuuji says, his voice filled with genuine amazement that makes Yuuta mentally stumble over his own words. "I still remember when we were kids, you could barely ask for a glass of water at the store without turning red."
Yuuta feels the heat rising up his neck, and forces himself to keep his gaze forward, at the end of the corridor that opens onto the sunlit inner courtyard.
"I've grown up," he replies, and the statement sounds more confident than he expected. "I've learned that I can't live my whole life hiding behind shyness. People trust me now, and that means I have to be someone they can trust."
Yuuji remained silent for a few seconds, and when Yuuta dared to glance at him, he saw that his cheeks had a pinkish tinge that wasn't there before. His lips moved, forming words that were carried away by the breeze from a nearby ceiling fan before they reached Yuuta's ears.
"What did you say?" he asks, pausing for a moment.
"Nothing, nothing." Yuuji shakes his head, his smile widening and brightening. His hand moves up to scratch the back of his neck, a gesture so familiar that Yuuta feels a sharp pain in his chest. "It's just... I'm glad you've changed. You're quite the mature young man now, senpai."
Yuuta wanted to cry for some reason; the corners of his eyes moistened, but he managed to wipe away the stray tears by blinking to clear his vision. He hadn't known how much he needed to hear that.
But that was always Yuuji's superpower: saying the right words at the least expected moment.
Silence settles between them as they walk, and Yuuta realizes his speech about the school has run its course. The map of the institution is complete in his mind, the words have been spoken, and now only the empty space remains between two people trying to find common ground after years of distance.
"The speech might be a little boring, I know," Yuuta admits, and the comment elicits a soft laugh from Yuuji, a sound that vibrates in the empty hallway like a musical note. "But... what brings you back to Tokyo? I thought you'd settled in Sendai after..."
Yuuji exhales slowly, his shoulders relaxing in a gesture Yuuta interprets as relief, as if the question had been waiting to be asked. "My older brother thinks I need a better education. He's very worried about my future now," he explains, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his backpack. "And Grandpa can't live in such a small town anymore. Tokyo has better hospitals, better doctors. It's easier for medical checkups."
The mention of Wasuke Itadori makes Yuuta feel a lump in his throat. He remembers the old man with wrinkled hands who always offered him sweets when he went to the Itadori house, he remembers his deep voice and his laugh that sounded like crumpled paper.
"I'm sorry," Yuuta says, the words coming out sincerely. "I shouldn't have asked."
"No, no." Yuuji raises his hands in an apologetic gesture, and his smile returns, though this time it's softer, more restrained. "You don't have to apologize. It's good to talk about it. And besides..." He pauses, his eyes turning to the lighted courtyard that stretches out to his left. "...I missed Tokyo."
Sunlight streams through the hallway windows, and Yuuta notices how the reflections dance across Yuuji's hair, the pink hues becoming more vibrant in the glare. The scent of flowers from the school greenhouse wafts through the air, and for a moment, everything seems to stand still.
Yuuta is dying to say that Tokyo has missed him too. He's missed Yuuji as well.
When they start walking again, the silence is no longer awkward. It's a shared space, a mutual acknowledgment that there's too much to say and too little time to say it. And Yuuji's classroom is at the end of a hallway that smells of chalk and new books.
The door is ajar, and from inside they can hear the teacher's voice explaining something about the Heian period. Yuuta stops before reaching it, and Yuuji does the same, turning to face him.
"Well..." Yuuji puts his hands in his pockets, his shoulders rising in a shrug that Yuuta knows all too well. "I guess that's all. Thanks for the tour, Yuuta-senpai. It was... a nice surprise to see you here. After all these years."
Yuuta feels his heart pounding in his chest, and his mind is racing, searching for something to say, something to do to prolong this moment that he knows will end in seconds.
"Yuuji," he says, his name slipping out with more urgency than he intended. "When you're ready... when you've settled in... you can come find me. At the student council. Or in my classroom." He pauses, swallows, and feels his words are clumsy. "You can count on me. For whatever you need. And if you want to join a club, I can help you choose. We can... we can meet again."
Can I see you again? Yuuta is dying to ask him.
The smile that spreads across Yuuji's face is so bright that Yuuta has to blink to make sure he isn't imagining it. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his cheeks rise into two round mounds, and the sunlight streaming through the hallway window envelops him completely, tinting his hair a burnt pink and his eyes a liquid gold. A bead of sweat glistens on his temple, and his smile has that warm, messy quality that has always characterized him, that ability to make the world seem brighter simply by existing.
"I will," Yuuji replies, his voice soft, almost a whisper. "I'll find you, senpai. I'm counting on you!"
Yuuta stands in the doorway of the classroom as Yuuji crosses the threshold and disappears among the desks, listening to the murmur of introductions and the squeak of a chair being moved. His legs feel weak, and his chest seems too small to contain his heartbeat. When he finally turns around, he brings his hands to his face and presses his fingers against his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.
He can't believe this is happening. He can't believe Yuuji is here, at his school, in Tokyo again, after all those years.
As a child, he spent hours imagining what had become of him, where he was, if he would remember summers in the park, rainy afternoons under the Itadori house's roof. And now he's here, real and tangible, with his smile, his pink hair, and his warm voice.
Yuuta forces himself to walk to his own classroom, knowing he'll be late for Uro-sensei's class and will probably get a reprimand. But he can't worry about that now. His mind is filled with images of Yuuji: his hands fidgeting with his backpack, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight, his smile slowly forming on his lips.
It's too much. It's too soon. It's too perfect, and yet, Yuuta can't help but smile.
The house smells of reheated dinner and green tea when Yuuta finally crosses the threshold, long after the sun has set. He drops his bag in the entryway without bothering to put it away, and his shoes lie scattered to one side as he trudges down the hallway, leaving a trail of street clothes in his wake.
The living room is illuminated by the flickering glow of the television, where Megumi sits cross-legged on the sofa, his fingers moving swiftly over the console controller. A racing game is playing, judging by the sound of engines and skidding tires coming from the speakers.
Yuuta slumped onto the sofa next to him, sinking into the cushions and letting out a groan of exhaustion. The student council meeting had dragged on longer than expected, and organizing the club fair had drained all his mental energy.
But then, the image of Yuuji flashes through his mind like lightning, and the fatigue mingles with a new wave of confusing emotions. Megumi doesn't look at him, doesn't speak to him, and that indifferent silence is the perfect trigger.
"You!" Yuuta lunges at his younger brother with the ferocity of an angry cat, knocking him off the sofa and sending them both crashing to the floor.
His hands find the collar of Megumi's shirt, and he begins shaking it vigorously as his voice rises into a childish whine. "You damn brat! Why didn't you tell me Yuuji was coming back to Tokyo? You knew this whole time and you didn't say a word!"
Megumi struggles under his weight, trying to break free with clumsy movements, and manages to land a blow on his shoulder that makes Yuuta loosen his grip for a second. He takes advantage of the moment to push him with a not-too-strong kick, and the two get tangled up in a childish fight of hair-pulling and elbowing.
"Let me go, you idiot!" Megumi growls, his voice flat but with an edge of genuine annoyance. "I forgot! Are you happy now? It wasn't intentional!"
"That's not true!" Yuuta insists, his voice becoming higher, more dramatic. "You always know everything about him! You were the only one who kept in touch with him! And you chose to hide from me that he was coming back!"
Megumi manages to break free with a final shove, and they both lie panting on the floor, facing each other, their clothes disheveled and their hair a mess.
The game on the television continues, forgotten, with a virtual car crashing into the barrier. "Fine," he says, his voice returning to its usual bored tone, though his eyes hold a glint of malicious satisfaction. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd act weird, and I didn't want to see your nervous display before he got here. It's pathetic."
Yuuta opens his mouth to protest, but before he can utter a word, the front door bursts open and Satoru's voice erupts into the hallway.
"I'm here! Sorry I'm late, the traffic was awful and..." The man appears in the living room frame with several bags of food hanging from his arms, and stops when he sees his two children on the floor, panting and with their clothes disheveled. "What's going on here?"
Dinner at the table is a silent affair, broken only by the clinking of chopsticks against the porcelain plates and the occasional crunch of food being bitten into. Yuuta and Megumi sit opposite each other, avoiding one another, while Satoru observes the scene with an amused smile that he tries to hide behind his teacup.
"So..." he finally says, setting the cup down and dropping the question with apparent casualness. "Is someone going to explain to me why I came home and found my children on the floor like two puppies fighting over a bone?"
Megumi raises his head, and the look he gives his older brother is venomous yet triumphant. "Yuuta found out that his childhood sweetheart returned to Tokyo," he says, his voice barely concealing a hint of mockery. "And as always, he went crazy. Just like when he was a kid and blushed whenever Itadori-kun smiled at him."
"That's not true!" Yuuta slams his palm on the table, and the cups rattle. "I'm not like that anymore! I'm not a kid anymore! And I don't get flustered just because he smiles at me!"
Satoru raises an eyebrow, and his smile widens. "Yuuji-kun's back in Tokyo? That explains why I've seen that insufferable older brother hanging around the office."
"Yes, he told me Sukuna brought him because of Wasuke-san," Megumi replies, his voice flat but his eyes gleaming with mischief. "He's at school, he's my classmate again, and it seems my dear older brother has already spotted him and personally escorted him to his classroom. Like a proper student council president, of course."
Yuuta feels heat rise to his face, and his hand grips the chopsticks so tightly his knuckles turn white. "It wasn't because of that," he murmurs, but his voice sounds weak, unconvincing. "It was my duty as president. Nothing more."
Satoru watches him for a long moment, and there's something in his gaze that goes beyond amusement, a flicker of genuine concern hidden behind his usual smile. He knows his son, he knows the story, he knows the summers Yuuta spent gazing at that pink-haired boy as if he were the center of the universe.
And he knows that look hasn't changed.
"Megumi," Satoru says, his tone turning more serious. "You should have mentioned it. It wasn't fair to your brother. Everyone in this house shares information."
Megumi shrugs and points his handkerchiefs at the white-haired man who is staring at him with poorly acted indignation. "You said you saw Sukuna, and you didn't say anything either."
"I didn't think it was important, and I know you both hate him." Satoru excused himself, raising his hands in surrender to his eldest son, who glared at him. "And you," he added, turning his attention to his eldest son, "Both of you aren't kids anymore to do things like that."
Yuuta nods, embarrassed, and his fingers finally release the chopsticks to rest on the table. "He deserved that for being a brat." But he receives a grain of rice that hits the tip of his nose in response.
Dinner continues in a less tense silence, and when Satoru gets up to clear the plates, his gaze lingers on Yuuta for a second longer than necessary. He observes how his son avoids eye contact, the tension in his shoulders, the faint color that still tinges his cheeks.
Something stirs within him, a quiet worry for the boy he raised, for the teenager who has become a responsible and serious young man, but who still harbors feelings that have lain dormant for years.
And now, that pink-haired boy has returned, and Satoru can't help but wonder how Yuuta will handle the return of his first love.