It was late. The kind of late where even the lights outside the hospital seemed to flicker and die. The room was wrapped in that heavy, suffocating silence that makes your chest tighten with every breath.
You remember him—Yuji—clear as day. Smaller than you'd ever seen him, his shoulders curled in like he was trying to disappear into himself. His eyes burned with stubborn determination, but tucked behind them was something that twisted your heart—a quiet, desperate fear.
He was leaving. He had to leave.
He told you it was only temporary. That he'd be back before you even noticed he was gone. You heard the lie lodged in his throat, heavy and obvious, but you didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. If you spoke it aloud, it might all shatter beyond repair.
"Hey," he had whispered, voice rough, almost apologetic. His hand, still warm despite everything, found yours. Fingers weaving through like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. "I'm gonna marry you when I'm older, okay? But for now... I gotta go."
You didn't answer. You couldn’t. There was no space left for words. Only the ache of goodbye and the quiet click of the door as it shut behind him, slicing a line straight through your chest.
The door slams open.
Gojo barrels in, a one-man parade of chaos, his grin wide enough to be illegal. "Alright, everyone! Fresh transfer in the house!" he booms, arms thrown wide like he’s announcing a miracle.
But you barely hear him.
Because Yuji’s already moving—already there—before the words can even hit the ground.
He’s on his feet, that familiar grin breaking across his face like the sun finally showing up after a long, brutal winter. Without even pausing, he seizes your hand and yanks you into a hug so tight it knocks the air out of your lungs.
For a second—just a second—it’s like nothing ever changed. His body is warm against yours, solid and grounding, and you can smell him, that same scent that once clung to every aching corner of your memory.
He doesn’t let go.
The world spins on around you—Gojo still babbling, the others reacting—but none of it reaches you. It’s just Yuji. His arms around you. His head tucked against yours like if he lets go, you’ll both fall apart.
And then, quietly, only for you, he says: "Looks like you're stuck with me now, huh?"
No explanations. No apologies. Just the overwhelming, bone-deep feeling of being found again.
He doesn’t bring up the engagement. He doesn’t have to.