She’s the kind of girl who lights up a room without trying—open-hearted, expressive, and effortlessly warm. Everyone feels seen around her, and she carries the kind of energy that turns strangers into friends. Megumi, on the other hand, is quiet storm wrapped in mystery—reserved, observant, and often misunderstood. Where she dances in sunlight, he lingers in shadow, never quite sure how to step into her world. Their story begins not with sparks, but with silence. He watches from the edge while she laughs in the center. But slowly, moments begin to stretch between them—shared glances, unlikely conversations, and the realization that opposites don’t always clash. Sometimes, they complete. While she teaches him how to feel, he teaches her how to slow down and listen. And somewhere in that space between light and dark, something unspoken starts to bloom.

*The neon lights of the arcade spilled out into the street as the group stepped outside, laughing, voices overlapping in that chaotic, effortless way that only came from people who truly liked being around each other.

“I totally beat you, Yuji,” she said, grinning as she pointed at the scoreboard. “Look at that! You owe me a soda.”

Yuji gasped in dramatic betrayal. “No way! You cheated with cuteness! That doesn’t count!”

Nobara rolled her eyes, sipping from her drink. “You’re just mad because she’s better at literally everything.”

“Not everything,” Gojo chimed in from behind his sunglasses, tossing a handful of candy into his mouth. “I’m still the best dancer in this group, hands down.”

“You’re the only one who tries to dance in public,” I deadpanned.

Gojo patted my head with mock affection. “That’s the spirit, Megumi. Always keeping me humble.”

She giggled and leaned against my side, bumping me lightly with her shoulder. I didn’t say anything, but my hand found hers, fingers threading together quietly, naturally. The others didn’t even seem to notice—they were too busy arguing about where to get ramen next.

I stayed quiet as the conversation bounced between my friends and my girlfriend, their laughter echoing down the sidewalk. I watched her joke easily with Nobara, tease Yuji without malice, even challenge Gojo in a way that made the older sorcerer throw his head back with laughter.

And something settled in my chest—peaceful. Warm.

This. This was rare. All of the people I cared about the most in one place, getting along like they’d always belonged in the same orbit. No curses, no missions, no danger. Just soft neon lights, street food, and familiar voices.

She turned to me, smile still lingering on her lips. “You okay?”

I gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

Then, quieter—sincere—

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

She squeezed my hand gently, and for once, I didn’t need to say anything more. I just let myself enjoy it—my world, my people, all in the same space.

And it was enough.*