Chapter Text
Fourth Week of Freshman Year
Meeting Yuji
You're already overstimulated, and you just got here. It's your first college party, on the floor right below your dorm room.
The apartment-style dorm is packed wall to wall with bodies. Music rattles the windows. People laugh too loudly, spilling drinks they don’t bother cleaning up. You grab a beer from the table near the door and lean against the wall, pretending to enjoy yourself.
Across the room, you spot the boy with pink hair.
You’d noticed him before - in the main cafeteria. A flash of color across the room had caught your eye, and you’d looked up to find him laughing with a group of friends, posture loose, smile easy. He’s cute, you’d thought. Disheveled hair, lanky limbs, big brown eyes that made him look open and approachable. Safe. Too safe, maybe. You’d decided to keep your distance. Nice boys tend to get hurt by girls like you.
At the party, you almost miss him - his hair flattened beneath a backward cap, messy strands slipping out around his forehead. He’s at the far end of the room playing beer pong with three other guys. He sinks the last shot and jumps up with a triumphant, “Ha!” pointing across the table at his friend. You smile despite yourself.
When the game ends, you watch him wander toward a girl nearby. She looks sweet. The type of girl you’d expect him to like. When he drapes an arm around her shoulders, you look away quickly, embarrassed by the feeling in your chest.
The music gets louder. Somehow, impossibly, the party keeps growing.
Then at the door - BAM BAM BAM “RA on duty!”
Right on cue.
People scream.
Someone knocks over a chair.
Bodies surge toward the bathroom; others scramble for the windows.
You catch sight of the pink-haired boy lifting that girl through the open window, ironically calling out to the room, “Stay calm!”
You’re on a full-ride scholarship... you can't afford to panic. One bad decision isn’t worth everything you've worked for.
No one’s ran into the bedrooms yet. You grab the nearest door handle - unlocked. You slip inside and shut the door quietly behind you.
You hear the main entrance open and the RA yell out “Okay everyone take out your IDs!”
Shit. Heart pounding, you rush to the closet. It’s mostly empty - just a few hanging shirts. You squeeze into the back corner, pulling fabric forward to hide yourself.
The RA starts opening bedroom doors. Yours opens... you freeze. It closes again... silence. You’re in the clear.
Minutes drag. Doors open and close. Then voices retreat and the apartment exhales into silence.
The bedroom door opens again. Voices enter the room, laughing, “man, that was crazy!”
“I thought I was done for.”
“Nah, we’ll be fine it’s no big deal.”
Shit. What do you do now? As they continue talking, you accept that you can’t hide in the closet forever, and start emerging from your tucked away corner.
You step out. “Uh, hi?” You stammer.
Three guys stare back at you - two you don’t recognize, and one you do. Pink hair.
All three burst out laughing. “What the fuck?” One of them says.
“Were you in there the whole time?”
“Who even are you?”
You introduce yourself, cheeks warm. “My bad to whoever’s room this is. I refused to get caught.”
“No apologies necessary,” the pink hair boy grins. “Honestly respect the commitment. I bet you would have stayed hidden in there all night if we didn’t walk in.”
“Yeah,” you admit. “I probably would have.”
The other two introduce themselves, but you barely hear them.
“Yuji,” the pink-haired boy says, offering a hand.
“Yuji,” You repeat.
“Yeah exactly. It’s Japanese.”
“Oh,” you smile.
They all wait.
“Well,” you say awkwardly, “thanks for letting me hide. I should go.”
As you turn, Yuji calls after you, “We’re gonna smoke if you want to stay.”
You pause. “Smoke what?”
Yuji laughs. “Right answer! C’mon.” He motions you out of the room and leads you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on high heat and starts packing a bowl.
“We’re smoking in here?” You ask.
“Yeah. I’ve got this whole system figured out,” he says proudly. “I let the room steam up from the hot water, and the steam carries the smoke out through the vents."
You squint, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
He assures you it’s fool proof.
The four of you crowd into the bathroom. Steam fogs the mirror. Yuji stands close enough that you can feel his warmth.
“Who’d you come here with?” Yuji asks.
“My room mate. I think she jumped out a window.”
“Yeah, I thought the whole window thing was pretty smart, but I guess other RAs were already waiting in the courtyard,” Yuji says. “I’m pretty sure everyone here got written up aside from you.”
You laugh. “Well, luckily you didn’t have much in your closet, so I had plenty of room to hide.”
He sighs, “Ugh yeah, I neeeeeeed to do laundry.”
Then, he looks up at the steam, “almost ready, looks like.”
You raise your eyebrow, challenging his logic.
“Trust me,” he says, “I definitely know what I’m talking about. I’m a physics major, so I know all about this stuff.”
“Oh really, what year are you?” You ask.
“First.”
“First?” You laugh. “Then you don’t know shit. You’re probably still taking pre-requisites.”
He laughs. “Well you don’t have anything to worry about. If someone does smell it, you can just hide in my closet again.”
“Deal,” you say with a smile.
When his friend reaches for the bowl, Yuji swats his hand away. “C’mon, man, ladies first,” he smiles as he hands you the bowl.
You understand why people gravitate toward him. He’s effortlessly charming for a stoner.
Smiling at him you take the bowl and bring it to your mouth, waiting for him to pass the lighter. Instead, he lights it for you.
“What was that?” He asks after you take a small hit. “No, you need to take a bigger hit than that.”
He takes the bowl from your hand and holds the mouthpiece up to your lips. No hesitation - it’s as if he’s done this with you a hundred times. He lights it and enthusiastically says, “Okay, now keep inhaling this time.” He waits for the entire chamber to fill with thick smoke until he finally lifts his thumb from the carb.
The smoke hits your lungs with a burn and you exhale with several coughs.
Yuji laughs. “Oh man, you can’t hang!”
He proceeds to take a hit around the same size, leading him to cough even more than you did.
Now you’re the one laughing.
*
After the bowl finishes, Yuji disappears into his room. When he doesn’t come back, you wave goodbye to his roommates and head for the door.
“Hey! Are you leaving?” You hear Yuji call out behind you.
“Yeah,” you reply, “aren’t you going to bed?”
Catching up to you, you see him carrying a laundry basket. “You reminded me how badly I need to do laundry. This time is the best part of the day to do it, the laundry room will be empty.”
The way he talks with such enthusiasm even about the most mundane tasks makes you light up.
“Wanna come?” He asks. “It’ll be fun.”
You can’t help but laugh. His eyes are bright red and his smile is even wider than it was before he got high.
You glance at the time. Midnight. You aren’t sleeping anytime soon anyway.
“Sure.”
*
The laundry room is quiet. You sit side by side as machines hum.
“I meant to ask what year you are.” Yuji starts.
“I’m a first year, too,” you answer.
“Oh.” He hesitates. “No offense, I thought you were older. In a good way.”
You laugh, “You’re right, I’m 20. I took a gap before starting here.”
“Wow,” his eyes widen, “you’re old.”
“Thanks,” you say holding back another laugh.
“I’m just joking… so did you do anything cool during your gap?”
“Uh, no, not really,” you answer, looking down at your feet. “I just hung out with my mom mostly.”
“Oh…” he pauses, “like taking care of her?”
“Kinda… my dad died towards the end of my senior year of high school. It felt wrong leaving right away. But eventually I decided to come to school.”
Yuji just looks at you.
Not knowing what to say next, you add, “I’m okay though.”
Yuji looks straight ahead. “My dad died too. But I was really young and barely remember him. So it’s probably worse for you.”
“So you just have your mom now, too?” You ask.
“Nah, I never knew her,” he says. “My grandpa was like my dad though. He’s awesome. And now I take care of him, too, when I’m not at school.”
This time, you look at him.
“And I’m okay, too,” he smiles.
The washers chime and you each transfer your clothes in warm silence.
-
“Hey,” Yuji breaks the silence later, “I should be honest about something.”
You look at him confused, “what is it?”
“I’m not a physics major,” he says.
You laugh so hard that your sides hurt. Of course you already knew that based off his ‘shower logic.’
He ignores your laughter and continues speaking earnestly. “You looked so skeptical and I thought it would convince you that I was right,” he says. “I took a semester of physics in high school, though! I just didn’t get a high enough grade to finish the full course.”
Your laugh turns hysterical.
“What?” He asks, laughing under his breath.
“You’re just… silly,” you say, regaining composure. “It’s nice.” Your smile makes your eyes squint.
He giggles and bumps his shoulder into yours. “You’re nice,” he says playfully.
You’re wrong, you respond internally.
Instead, you smile at him and enjoy his presence.
*
You go back to your room later feeling lighter than you have in weeks. Such a simple night, but one that leaves its mark.
You didn’t know yet that this was love - just not the kind that you were craving.
***
Three Years Later
December 8 - Senior year
It’s late Friday afternoon when you finally escape your last class of the week. The city buzzes around you - traffic, voices, movement - and you’re halfway down the block toward your dorm when heavy footsteps thud up behind you. A heavy arm drops across your shoulders.
“Damn, I’m so glad this week is over,” Yuji bellows into your right ear.
You don’t even flinch... you never do.
You look up to find him grinning down at you, eyes squeezed shut like he’s smiling at the sun itself. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, pink hair an unruly mess of bedhead that refuses to be tamed. Yuji has always smiled with his whole face. One of those contagious smiles that makes it impossible to be in a bad mood.
“So,” he says, nudging you forward as you walk. “What’re we watching tonight?”
Friday movie nights have been your ritual for years now - horror movies, shared weed, a rotating lineup of snacks. Easy and familiar.
“Well, horror is always a good choice,” you answer.
His eyes light up. “Human Earthworm?!”
You groan. Of course he would pick that one. You’ve never understood how he can sit through those godawful films, but you love the way he lights up every time.
“Sure,” you respond.
He laughs, loud and unbothered.
Since the night you met, Yuji has texted you a few times a week - you free?, wanna smoke?, movie night? - as if thinking of you is just something that naturally occurs to him. It’s always felt nice to be remembered like that.
-
You’ve both dated other people over the years. Drifted in and out of hookups. But at the end of it all, it always comes back to this. Just the two of you. Friends.
-
Inside your apartment-style dorm, you drop your bags and head for the kitchen. You’d lucked out this year with your placement. You scored a new building, full living room, private bedrooms, and only one roommate.
As you make your way to the kitchen, you see a large pair of sneakers sitting outside your room mate’s door. Great, her boyfriend’s here. You’re genuinely happy for her. You’re just less thrilled about the nightly soundtrack that’s come with him. You silently hope - again - that tonight will be different.
…It won’t be.
You and Yuji gather chips and cookies by the armful and retreat to your room. Twin XL bed. Desk. Oversized bean bag chair. The same as it's always been. You flop onto the bed while Yuji grabs your laptop without asking, already hunting down a pirated link to his stupid movie. You open the desk drawer and pull out your jar. The smell hits immediately - sharp and earthy. Yuji’s head snaps up, eyes bright with anticipation, a laugh bubbling out of him. You rummage deeper into the desk drawer to locate your favorite lighter and hand blown glass bowl.
The strawberry-shaped bowl. Yuji gave it to you for your birthday last year. Pink glass, delicate, and somehow perfectly reminiscent of him. You pack it carefully while he finally finds a decent-quality link.
You both settle against the wall, feet dangling off the bed, laptop propped between you. Without comment, you take the first hit and pass it to him, knowing he’d refuse if you didn’t. He lights it confidently and inhales.
For a moment, your mind drifts back to freshman year - the first time you smoked together. The night you decided he would be a good friend. And only a friend.
Your attention snaps back when he exhales a string of perfectly formed smoke rings, fighting a cough. You giggle. Showoff. You silently pass the bowl back and forth throughout the beginning credits.
While Yuji is already captivated by the screen, your eyes wander to him, your gaze drifting over his sharp angular jaw and nose. You have always admired his side profile, especially his jawline that could cut like a knife. Your gaze shifts to his eyes - the widest, most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen. They say eyes are the gateway to the soul, and this was definitely true for Yuji. His eyes could solve world peace. Finally your eyes land on his most unique feature - his soft pink hair, which is always perpetually rumpled. He’s never once looked put together, and somehow that only makes him more himself.
A loud knock slams against the door. “RA on duty!”
Yuji jolts upright. “Shit"-
“Relax,” you say, already standing. “Stay here.”
You open the door with a practiced ease, posture shifting instinctively. Your RA stands there in his muscle tank and douchey glasses, trying - and failing - to look authoritative.
“I know you’re smoking in here,” he says.
You tilt your head, soften your expression. “Hey, you. Long time no see.”
He blinks. “Oh -uh -yeah. Hi.”
You smile wider. “How’ve you been?” He melts. You can almost see it happen.
“Well, labs are this week and, uh... but, we should hang out sometime. Next week?” He scratches the back of his neck.
“Definitely,” you say sweetly. “But of course we’ll stop smoking. I’d hate for you to get in trouble.”
His shoulders drop in relief. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
When you close the door, the smile falls off your face instantly. You make a mental note to be gone all of next week.
Walking back into your bedroom, Yuji’s wide eyes are the first thing that come into sight, clearly expecting some repercussions.
“We’re good,” you say. “I know him.”
“Oh, thank god,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair.
You both know better than to comment on it. You’ve always had that unspoken rule - what happens outside of this friendship stays outside of it. He had seen you walking around with the RA before, and it was obvious you’ve hooked up at least once.
The movie resumes. The weed settles in. You both sink lower into the bed, drifting closer without noticing. Chips crunch softly between you.
Then -
“Ugh! Fuck!” Loud, unmistakable moans.
Both of your eyes shoots up to your bedroom door. Escalated panting sounds and creaking furniture fill the air, all coming from your room mate’s bedroom.
Your eyes slowly track over to Yuji’s face. As soon as your eyes meet, both of you erupt into laughter.
“What the fuck?” Yuji manages to squeak out amongst his bubbling laughter.
“I know!” You gasp out. “I’m so sorry, I swear I begged her to keep it down.”
“BEGGED?” Yuji yells expressively. “This happens often?”
“Every night this week.”
“Damn,” Yuji says, “good for them, I guess?”
You both attempt to focus on the movie, but the moaning is impossible to ignore.
“I’m sorry,” you say, “You can go home if you want. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“We should both go,” he says casually.
“Huh? To your uncle’s house?” Your head perks up.
He hasn’t invited you there since he moved in this year. You went to his dorm plenty of times Freshman through Junior year, but always assumed his uncle didn’t like visitors since Yuji stopped extending invitations.
“Yeah, I’d feel like shit leaving you alone to fall asleep to all that,” he says, already closing the laptop and rolling up the bag of chips.
“Are you sure?” You ask, “Your uncle will be cool with that?”
Yuji hums in acknowledgement. “I doubt he’ll even be home.”
Yuji really hadn’t said much about his uncle before. But then again, there’s a lot that goes unspoken between the two of you, and that’s part of the appeal. It feels safe sitting in silence with him, and it’s one of the biggest reasons why he’ll always be a good friend.
The only details you know about his current situation is that his grandfather died over the summer, succumbing to his long-term illness. His uncle helped him pack up the house and moved him into his apartment.
You grab your jacket, still curious - still unaware - that tonight will be the start of something new.
*
The bus ride across the city is long. No wonder why Yuji doesn’t mind crashing on your bean bag on late nights.
When you get off, he leads you toward a dark brick apartment complex. Inside, you make your way to the elevator and Yuji presses 24, the top floor.
The apartment is nicer than you expected when you step inside. “Shit, this is nice! You guys rent this place?” You ask.
“He bought it,” Yuji replies easily, already walking.
“No shit. What does he do?” The question slips out before you can stop it. Yuji doesn’t seem bothered.
“He’s an artist.”
You blink. “Artists are usually broke.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well, he’s got a lot of investment properties. Maybe some businesses too. I don’t really get it. But apparently it’s going well.” He pauses, then adds, like it’s nothing, “He owns this building too.”
“Huh,” you murmur, filing it away without really knowing why.
“My room’s over here.”
You follow him down the hall and into his bedroom.
Inside is a simple set up. White walls, a full size bed with navy blue comforter pushed to the corner of the room, a rustic dark brown wooden desk in the opposite corner.
In the center of the room is a navy shaggy area rug with an old, leather recliner on top of it. The leather is cracked and softened with age, arms rubbed smooth from years of use.
Your attention turns to the stark contrast among his white walls - a massive TV mounted across from his bed.
“You have this big ass TV but choose to watch movies on my tiny laptop every Friday?” You ask.
“Hm? Oh. Yeah. It was from my grandpa’s house. My uncle already had his own TV, so he said I could keep this if I wanted it.”
Realization sets in. You look around again - the desk, the chair, the bed frame. It all clicks. This isn’t just a room, it’s a continuation. All this furniture must have belonged to his grandfather. His grandpa must have sat in that recliner every day with the level of wear on it. It must be special to Yuji.
You set your things down near his bed and hop up. Yuji flips through the channels, finally settling on a true crime documentary. You love that he has the same taste in trash TV as you.
Sitting up, you ask, “hey can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure,” he responds, pointing to his door. “It’s right across the hall.”
As you walk across the room, he adds, “Can you cut the lights too while you’re up?”
You flick the switch as you leave. The room settles into darkness, TV light casting a soft glow down the hallway. When you come back, Yuji is already asleep. You pause in the doorway, almost amused. He’s sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his chest, breathing slow and even. He’s always been like this - able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Meanwhile, you’ve spent years wrestling with your own thoughts in perfectly quiet rooms. You watch him for a moment longer than necessary.
Not wanting to wake him, and not wanting to steal the recliner that clearly holds too much history, you quietly pick up your backpack and slip back into the hallway.
His room is at the very end of a hallway accompanied by a restroom. Walking back towards the main living area, you pass another two doors. You assume maybe one is another bathroom and the other is his uncle’s room.
You assume he must not be home like Yuji had predicted.
Back in the living room, you admire the modern furniture and light fixtures. It’s a stark contrast to Yuji’s vintage and modest bedroom. An L-shaped sofa and two arm chairs are wrapped in smooth black leather, facing a large mounted TV. There’s a low, black marbled coffee table at the center of the room resting on the gray marble floor tiles. No carpet.
Your attention is brought to a massive canvas hanging above the sofa, nearly covering the entire wall. The room is only half-lit, but what you can make out in the painting is splashes of black and dark gray with a few dark red smudges.
You continue walking towards the kitchen. In the kitchen lies an impressively large island with a black marble counter. This guy likes marble. And black.
A long black dining table is pressed against the back wall, under another smudgy painting.
Taking a look at this house, it looks more like a show room than something that’s actually lived in. Yuji wasn’t wrong to assume his uncle wouldn’t be home. Further back, you walk up to the sliding glass doors leading out to a wide balcony.
Perfect.
You quietly slide open the doors and shut them behind you once you step outside. You walk to the edge of the balcony and lean over to look below. Located on the 24th floor, you look down on the surrounding apartment buildings. Looking up, you see the skyline in the distance. You breathe in the view.
Reaching into your backpack, you pull out the still-packed bowl. You light it and take a small hit.
“Enjoying yourself?” A sudden deep voice behind you makes you jump and shriek.
Your eyes slowly adjusting to the dark balcony, you see a dark figure tucked away into the corner.
“Uh, hello?” You say slowly.
No response.
The only possible person it could be is Yuji’s uncle.
“Um… Hi, sorry. I’m Yuji’s friend. He invited me over… but he fell asleep,” you say into the darkness.
The silence holds.
“I’m so sorry that I’m smoking on your balcony… He said that you weren’t home.” Your heart is pounding in your ears. You’ve never met anyone in Yuji’s family and now you’re making the worst possible first impression.
Stepping out of the shadows, a man’s build comes into view. Stepping closer, a small trace of light falls onto a broad face that is well over a foot and a half taller than you.
You stifle a gasp. Although hard to completely determine in the dark, the man’s face is a dead ringer for a more mature Yuji.
“My nephew brought a girl over for the first time and fell asleep on her?” He finally says.
“Oh. No. Nothing like that!” You interject. “I’m just his friend," you tell him your name. "It’s nice to meet you.”
The figure steps closer and stretches an arm toward you, palm up.
He probably isn’t happy catching a stranger doing drugs at his house.
Reluctantly, you place the bowl in his hand and quietly say, “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
He turns it once, inspecting it like an object rather than a transgression. To your surprise, you hear the flick of a lighter and watch him light up and hit the bowl. He takes a deep inhale. When he exhales, it’s through his nose.
“Sukuna,” he says.
You take a better look at the figure before you. Although upon first glance he looked like Yuji, you realize there’s also something vastly different about him. His face is much broader and shaped like some gladiator from the Roman Empire.
You notice that what you had thought were shadows across his face are actually intricate tattoos. You’ve never seen anything like them. The unique markings take up the center of his forehead, below his eyes, across his nose, and down the sides of his face, exemplifying his strong jawline.
Your eyes drift downward to realize he is only wearing lounge pants. No shirt.
Taking advantage of the dark, hoping it conceals your eye movements, you take in every detail of his upper body.
And what an upper body it is.
Thick neck. Broad shoulders. Ink cutting down his chest towards his sternum.
His chest is massive, unavoidably so. You don’t mean to stare, but your eyes drag anyway, down muscle and ink and the suggestion of heat below his waistband before you force them away.
He interrupts your gawking by handing back your bowl. When you accept it, your fingers brush his briefly. His skin is warm. He doesn’t look away.
You feel it immediately - low, unsettling. Like being seen without permission. Neither of you moves. The space between your bodies feels… crowded. Not because it’s small... but because he’s aware of it. Because you are now.
You take more notice at his hands and forearms. Two thick bands of tattoos on his wrists and black painted nails.
Shit, he’s hot.
You don’t like how easily that thought comes.
When you take back your bowl, you watch that same hand gracefully drop into his lounge pant pockets and retrieve a small box. He strikes his lighter again, this time lighting up a cigarette.
“Ah, that’s why you’re out here,” you accidentally say out loud.
The glow of his cigarette is reflected in his dark wide eyes, fixated on you.
You’ve never been intimidated by a man before. It’s usually you who makes men stumble over their words. But this is not an average man.
Why didn’t Yuji mention his uncle was so damn fine?
You want to continue admiring the fine specimen before you, but you’re making yourself way too obvious.
“It’s my house. Why are you out here?” He says in a flat tone.
You feel your face flush. Thank god it’s dark. “Can’t sleep,” you finally say.
“Weed helps?” He asks. His gaze flicks over you - not lingering, not scanning. Assessing. Like he’s cataloging something he already knows.
“Not really. But I don’t have any better ideas, so it’ll have to do,” you say.
“Apologies on behalf of my nephew. I’ll have to advise him on how to properly tire out our house guests before he indulges in his own sleep,” he says.
Did he mean what you think he meant by that? No way. You act oblivious to any hidden context.
“Oh, no need to apologize at all! Yuji stays at my place all the time, so there’s no need for formalities with me.”
“Hmm,” Sukuna says, “so that’s where he is all the time,” as he takes another drag.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you attempt to say cutely. Guys usually love this innocent, overly-sweet act you do, but this guy is way too hard to read to know if it’s working or not.
Another drag. “He’s a grown ass man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants,” he says dryly.
Okay then.
You ask yourself if this is awkward. Strangely, you don’t feel like it is, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking it.
“Okay, well,” you say, “then I’ll head inside now. It was nice mee"-
“You’re going to sleep?” He interrupts.
“I mean, hopefully? At least I’ll try.”
He hums, leaning against the railing opposite you.
He’s staring at you. Eyes wandering across your face and neck. You wait for him to say something.
“You seem too tense to sleep,” he finally says.
Keep cool. You clear your throat to ground yourself.
“Yeah, well, you caught me smoking on your balcony before we even met. It’s a little embarrassing,” you say.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he points out.
“You really don’t care?” You ask.
He shifts, closer now. Not touching - but close enough that you’re aware of his heat. His presence. The way the air seems to bend around him.
“Finish that,” he says. “Then go inside.”
Heat spreads over you as your heart pounds against your chest. You let out a slow exhale.
He did take a hit himself, you reason with yourself. May as well.
Your lips twitch despite yourself. You take another hit and look back out at the city.
He turns away, leaning over the other side of the balcony with his cigarette. The two of you smoke in silence.
When you glance sideways, you catch him watching you. Not your face. Your mouth. Your throat as you swallow. The awareness settles sharp and unwelcome in your stomach. You don’t look away fast enough. His gaze doesn’t move. Something unreadable passes over his expression - gone before you can name it.
His eyes flick back to the city.
You’re too high to accurately assess what’s happening right now. Could it be possible that he wants… you? No. You shake yourself out of that thought. He’s Yuji’s uncle. That’s beyond inappropriate.
You finish your bowl and head inside.
“Uh, okay… bye?” You shyly wave as you dart back inside.
He doesn’t respond or look in your direction.
*
Fumbling over your own feet back to Yuji’s room, you try to gain your composure.
Why the hell did you wave? Idiot.
You gently climb back into Yuji’s bed while you hear his light snores.
*
That night, you lie awake staring at Yuji’s ceiling, eyes burning from refusing to close. You’re still caught on the god of a man you met tonight, and you resent yourself for how easily he lodged himself in your head. His voice loops anyway. Low. Slow. Too deliberate.
You wonder what Sukuna’s doing now. If he’s already asleep. The thought that you’re under the same roof makes your stomach twist with something that feels too much like excitement.
You tell yourself it would be wrong to flirt with him if the opportunity came up. Yuji’s uncle. Off-limits. Inappropriate. The justifications come anyway. You’d be stupid not to want someone who looks like that. You’re only human. It doesn’t mean anything.
Normally it’s anxiety that keeps you awake - the old reel of worst-case scenarios. Tonight, your mind is loud in a different way, crowded with heat and impulse. If Yuji weren’t asleep beside you, you’d already be taking care of it. You turn onto your side and stare at the wall, irritated by how easily Sukuna displaced everything else.