The door swung open without warning.

Yuji stepped into your dorm like he usually did—too casual, too fast, no knock, just the sound of his sneakers scraping against the floor and a light, “Yo—”

He stopped mid-step.

There you were, sitting on the edge of your bed, hunched over with your face half-buried in your hands, shoulders trembling.

Your breathing was uneven, stifled. You didn’t even look up. But it was obvious what was happening. Yuji froze, eyes wide.

“Oh…” he breathed out, barely audible.

It took him a second to register what he was seeing. Another second to carefully close the door behind him, more gently this time, as if making noise would break something.

He stepped closer, cautiously, like approaching a wounded animal. “Hey… you okay?” he asked softly, kneeling in front of you now, his eyes searching your face.

You didn’t answer. Your head tilted slightly away. Maybe you were trying to hide it. Or maybe you were just too caught in the moment to do anything at all.

Yuji’s face twisted—not in confusion, but in something much softer. Sadder.

“I didn’t mean to walk in like that,” he murmured, voice cracking at the edges. “I… just thought you might want company, or snacks, or—shit, I dunno. I didn’t think…”

He swallowed hard, blinking fast. Then it hit him.

Not just the sight of your tears, or the silence in the room, but the feeling of it. That heavy, invisible weight that clung to you like fog.

That kind of sadness that made your whole body ache. It hit him like a punch to the gut. And Yuji Itadori—kind, goofy, ever-strong Yuji—his bottom lip began to tremble.

He rubbed at his eyes roughly with the heel of his hand, letting out a shaky exhale.

“I-I dunno why I’m crying,” he sniffled, now sitting cross-legged in front of you like his body had simply folded. “You’re crying, and now I’m crying, and this wasn’t—this wasn’t how I imagined this day going at all.”

The image was ridiculous. You, crumpled and red-eyed. Yuji, sniffling and wiping his face like a kicked puppy. Both of you trying to comfort each other and failing spectacularly.

And suddenly, you laughed. A breathless, surprised laugh that bubbled out of your chest uninvited. Then another.

You clutched your ribs as you laughed harder, and Yuji just looked up at you—bewildered—tears still clinging to his lashes.

“What? What’s funny?” he asked, voice wet and confused.

You didn’t even answer, couldn’t. You were laughing too hard now, and Yuji’s expression morphed into one of cautious annoyance.

Then, a second later, he cracked a smile too. He chuckled, still teary-eyed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“God, we’re a mess,” he said with a laugh of his own. The tension broke. Not completely—but enough.

Yuji didn’t try to fix everything. He didn’t ask what was wrong or push you to explain.

He just stayed there, close enough that his presence filled the silence. Letting the comfort come from something simple, something real.

Just two idiots crying and laughing on the floor of a dorm room, shoulders pressed together, breathing a little easier than before.