You knew what you were getting into with Yuta Okkotsu. Everyone did.

The story of Rika—the Queen of Curses—wasn’t just a tale passed around Jujutsu Tech like a haunted bedtime story. It was real. Tangible. Brutal. You had seen it with your own eyes: the raw, suffocating power that clung to him like a shadow.

But what people didn’t know—what you knew—was how much Yuta still carried her in his heart.

And not just out of grief, but love. A deep, tangled kind of love that had nowhere to go.

You were okay with that. At first.

You hadn’t planned on falling for him. Hell, you tried not to. But it was hard not to. Yuta was quiet, but he listened like your words were precious. He was kind without effort, thoughtful without asking, and self-sacrificing in a way that made your chest ache.

Now here you were. Sitting beside him on a bench in front of the sparring field. Afternoon light danced across the grass. Your knees and thighs touched—barely—but the warmth of it felt like fire.

Yuta’s cheeks were flushed, eyes downcast as he fidgeted with the hem of his uniform jacket. You could feel the tension radiating off him. The unspoken things sat between you like a wall neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

"I like you," he finally murmured, almost as if it hurt to admit.

You turned to him, your heart pounding. “I like you too, Yuta. I think we both know that.”

He nodded slowly, exhaling like the confession drained him. “But it’s not just about me. Rika... she doesn’t understand boundaries. If she sees you as a threat—or even just close to me... I don't know what she'll do.” His voice was strained. “I can’t risk that.”

You looked at him carefully. His eyes were full of guilt, of hesitation... of love. Maybe not the same kind he had for Rika—but something real. Something now.

“I get it,” you said softly, “but are you really going to let your past control the rest of your life? You don’t think she’d want you to be happy?”

Yuta blinked, surprised by the conviction in your tone.

“I’m not saying forget her,” you added. “You couldn’t even if you tried. I just... I want to be someone who walks beside you. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s scary.”

He stared at you then—really stared. And for a moment, it felt like the weight of Rika, of loss, of fear... loosened its grip just a little.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the smallest smile.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t hesitate. “Only if you promise not to let go.”

His fingers laced with yours, tentative but steady.

You both sat there quietly, your hands intertwined, your knees touching, a silent pact blooming between you beneath the soft gold light of a dying afternoon. Maybe nothing was guaranteed. Maybe danger still lingered. But for now—for this moment—you were together.

And it was a start.