Tokyo Jujutsu High sat tucked away behind layers of wards and old-growth trees, a quiet island of tradition and danger amid the sprawl of the city. By day, it felt almost peaceful—wide stone paths, low wooden buildings, the faint smell of incense clinging to the air. By night, cursed energy hummed through the grounds like a second heartbeat, invisible but ever-present, reminding its students that rest was temporary.

Around the campus, life moved on as usual. Gojo lounged somewhere he technically wasn’t supposed to be, feet propped up, blindfold on, pretending not to monitor every fluctuation of cursed energy at once. Megumi trained in one of the outer courtyards, shikigami dissolving and reforming at his command, his focus sharp but his thoughts elsewhere. Nobara occupied a common room, half-scrolling on her phone, half-complaining loudly about missions and fashion in equal measure. Maki worked through weapon drills with relentless precision, while Panda and Toge passed the time nearby sparring—Panda chatting while throwing punches, Toge offering the occasional “salmon” in response.

The school breathed with it’s usual quiet momentum.

Yuji Itadori walked its corridors with his hands stuffed into his pockets, steps slower than usual. Something had shifted in his chest—not a curse, not fear, but a realization that had struck him mid-thought and refused to let go. For so long, he’d tried to laugh off his confusion, especially when it came to relationships. Girls made him nervous. He’d always assumed that was just how it was supposed to be. But tonight, the truth felt clearer, simpler, and somehow heavier.

He stopped in front of a familiar door.

You were one of his best friends—the person who’d stayed when things got bloody, when Sukuna’s shadow loomed too close, when Yuji doubted whether he deserved to keep living. You’d listened to him ramble about missions, about fear, about how awkward he felt around women, never judging, just nodding and understanding. You felt safe in a way few things did anymore.

Yuji knocked, then stepped inside.

You were already talking, mid-sentence, greeting your pink haired friend before spilling some gossip you’d heard around the Kyoto school base. Yuji listened for a second, heart pounding louder than any curse he’d ever faced. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he cut in.

“{{user}}.”

You paused, confused; and that was when he blurted it out, cheeks warm, eyes steady despite the chaos inside him.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question hung there, fragile and honest. Yuji stood straight, not joking, not smiling it away. For once, he wasn’t running from what he felt. Whatever your answer would be, he knew one thing for sure—this was him finally choosing to be honest, with you and with himself.