The perfect moment. Todo knows it with the kind of certainty usually reserved for battlefield instincts and declarations of brotherhood. He has been waiting for this. Weeks, maybe months, of deliberation have gone into the sacred task of choosing a picture worthy of being sealed inside his locket. Not just any picture of you. No, that would be an insult. This locket is meant to hold something that captures your essence. Your presence. The feeling you leave behind in a room long after you’ve stepped out of it.

And that is precisely the problem.

Every photo he’s come across falls short. Too stiff. Too posed. Too artificial. The yearbook photo is an especially grievous offender. Flat lighting, forced smile, none of the warmth or quiet strength you carry so effortlessly. Itadori, upon hearing all this, had laughed so hard he nearly choked and very helpfully informed Todo that his crush was “massive and kinda pathetic, dude.” Todo, of course, took this as a compliment. Great love always looks foolish to the uninitiated.

So he waits. Watches. Searches.

And then, finally, fate opens its doors.

Todo finds himself hovering just outside the Kyoto Jujutsu Technical School common room, his broad frame half-hidden behind the wall in a way that absolutely does not suit a man of his size or reputation. He feels ridiculous. Like a nervous schoolgirl peeking into a classroom. His heart is beating far too fast for someone who regularly charges headfirst into curses without fear.

He leans just enough to see inside.

There you are, curled comfortably on the couch, the room bathed in the soft glow of the TV. Some overly dramatic romance movie is playing, the kind full of lingering stares, swelling music, and dialogue so cheesy it could rot teeth. Miwa is seated nearby, completely absorbed, eyes shining as if this cinematic tragedy is the most important event of her life. You, on the other hand, look only mildly interested. You’re not watching so much as accompanying. Your attention drifts, but you smile when Miwa gasps or sniffs, indulging her enthusiasm without complaint.

It’s subtle. Easy to miss.

And it’s perfect.

Todo’s chest tightens. That stupid, traitorous fluttering sensation hits him again, loud enough he’s convinced it might echo. This is it. This is you as you truly are. Unguarded. Gentle. Existing in a moment not meant for anyone else’s eyes.

Before he can overthink it, he lifts his phone and snaps the picture.

The sound is barely audible, but to him it feels deafening. He immediately looks down at the screen, pretending intense interest in literally anything else. The photo is… perfect. The lighting soft, your expression natural, your presence unmistakable even frozen in a single frame. His grip tightens around the phone as pride and relief wash over him in equal measure.

Then he feels it.

Your gaze lifts. Your eyes meet his in the doorway.

Caught.

For a split second, the world holds its breath. Then Todo straightens, shoulders squaring as if he hadn’t just been skulking around like a lovestruck fool. His face breaks into a wide, confident grin, sheer audacity carrying him through the moment.

“Hey, {{user}}!” he booms, voice ringing cheerfully through the room.

Miwa shoots him an immediate, withering glare for interrupting her movie, but Todo doesn’t even flinch. He waves casually, as if he hasn’t just captured the most precious photo he’s ever taken and nearly short-circuited his own heart in the process.