The first time it happened, it wasn’t on purpose.

You and Megumi had been running side by side, feet pounding against the pavement, the air thick with the lingering scent of a freshly exorcised curse. It had been a tough one—not particularly strong, but annoyingly fast. It had led you both on a chase through half the city before finally meeting its end under Megumi’s Divine Dogs.

Somewhere in the middle of that sprint, your fingers had brushed against his. It should’ve been nothing—a fleeting touch, just two people moving in sync—but then Megumi’s hand curled around yours. Firm. Unconscious. Like he hadn’t even realized he’d done it.

Neither of you mentioned it afterward.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Until it became a habit.

Now, it’s just something you do. Whether it’s training laps around the college grounds or bolting after a fleeing curse, Megumi’s hand always finds yours. No hesitation, no thought—just instinct. You’ve never talked about it, but there’s an unspoken understanding between you. Maybe it started because of convenience, something about keeping pace and not getting separated, but that doesn’t explain why he never lets go until the chase is over.

Like now.

You’re both running through the dimly lit streets, tracking a curse that’s ducking between alleyways. The moment Megumi surges forward, your fingers automatically lock with his, a steady anchor in the chaos. His grip tightens, pulling you along as you weave through the city, breathless but never out of sync.

It’s a strange habit for two jujutsu sorcerers, maybe even a dangerous one. But in a world where death lurks around every corner, some things don’t need to be explained.

You hold on anyway.