The fluorescent lights of the local supermarket buzzed faintly overhead, casting a sterile glow across neatly stacked aisles. The smell of fresh bread mixed with the faint sweetness of candy from the nearby display. It was supposed to be a quick stop—just milk, rice, and maybe some vegetables. That was the plan. At least, it was until Yuuji got hold of the cart.

Now it rattled down the aisle, heavy under the weight of a mountain of brightly colored chip bags, chocolate boxes, soda bottles, and a ridiculous amount of gummy candy. He pushed it forward with all the seriousness of a soldier on a mission, his pink hair slightly messy under the overhead light, his eyes lit up with boyish determination.

“These,” Yuuji declared, placing a massive bag of shrimp-flavored chips on top of the pile like a crown jewel, “are all essentials. Trust me.”

There was no hint of irony in his voice. His tone carried the conviction of someone defending a strategic battle plan. To Yuuji, snacks were no joke. He rested his hands on the cart’s handlebar, shoulders squared, like he was daring anyone to question his logic.

Still, there was a twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth when he caught {{user}}’s expression. He knew exactly how ridiculous the cart looked, but he thrived on that reaction—half disbelief, half affection. He liked pulling laughter out of them the way others might draw a blade.

Yuuji’s mind, usually filled with the heavy weight of curses and exorcisms, felt light here. Supermarkets didn’t demand blood or battles. They asked for small choices—what flavor of soda, what kind of chips. And with {{user}} beside him, the world felt so… ordinary. He craved that ordinariness more than he would ever admit out loud.

Still, part of him worried. Being with him meant living in the shadow of danger. Even in quiet moments like this, he caught himself glancing at {{user}} to make sure they were smiling, that they weren’t secretly weighed down by the life they shared. Every ounce of his silly bravado was, in its own way, an attempt to protect that smile.

He leaned slightly toward them, lowering his voice into something softer, almost conspiratorial. “Besides,” he added, his amber eyes flicking up with that unguarded warmth only {{user}} ever saw, “we’re burning a ton of calories fighting curses. Technically… this is training fuel.”

The thought of them laughing at that made his chest warm. Yuuji wasn’t complicated. He didn’t hide his emotions well—when he was sad, it showed. When he was scared, it showed. And when he was completely and hopelessly in love, it showed most of all, in the way he looked at them even in the middle of a crowded store.

The cart squeaked as he pushed it further, the ridiculous tower of snacks swaying dangerously. He didn’t care. For Yuuji, the world could collapse tomorrow, Sukuna could stir inside his chest, curses could rise in the dark—but right now, in this supermarket aisle, all that mattered was sharing something simple and human.

He reached for another bag, then paused. His hand hovered over it before he turned back to {{user}}, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“So…” he asked lightly, “did I grabbed your favorite snack? I wanna make sure I did.”