Love

The hem of Yuki’s skirt was dangerously high, a fact that Megumi Fushiguro was acutely aware of every second of the day. It wasn't just the skirt, though; it was the way her uniform jacket seemed to have shrunk in the wash, leaving a generous span of her pale midriff exposed. With her long, ink-black hair and the heavy silver chains clinking against her boots, she looked like a rebellious doll—a goth princess who had wandered into the austere world of jujutsu sorcery and decided to brighten it up with her sheer, chaotic energy.

Megumi loved her. He also, at this current moment, wanted to summon Divine Dog: Totality just to growl at Yuji Itadori.

"Yuki-chan! Look at this!" Yuji shouted, leaning over her shoulder to show her something on his phone. He was standing far too close, his arm practically brushing against hers. "There’s a new arcade opening in Shibuya with a giant crane game!"

Yuki squealed, a sound that was far too bright for her dark aesthetic, and threw her arms around Yuji’s neck in a sudden, lunging hug. "No way! Yuji, you have to take me! You’re the only one who’s good at those!"

Megumi’s book creaked in his hands. He didn't look up, but his grip was tight enough to bruise the paper. Yuki was naturally clingy—she was a physical person who expressed affection through touch—but seeing her belly press against Yuji’s hoodie made a hot, uncomfortable knot tighten in Megumi's chest.

"I’m sure Fushiguro wouldn't mind if we all went," Yuji said, oblivious to the dark aura radiating from the corner of the room.

"Of course he won't!" Yuki chirped, finally letting go of Yuji only to skip over to Megumi. She leaned down, her hair veiling his face as she kissed his cheek. "Right, Gumi? You’ll come and win me a giant plushie?"

"I have training," Megumi mumbled, his eyes fixed on a sentence he had read six times already.

"Liar," she teased, poking his side. "You just don't want to see Yuji beat you at the claw machine."

The jealousy didn't end with Yuji. It was a recurring theme that haunted Megumi’s week. Later that afternoon, he found Yuki sitting on the porch of the second-year dorms, tucked tucked under Toge Inumaki’s arm. They were sharing a pair of headphones, Yuki nodding her head to whatever heavy metal track she was forcing the soft-spoken boy to listen to.

Toge looked up, his violet eyes peaceful, and offered a small wave. "Salmon," he greeted.

Yuki beamed, leaning her head on Toge’s shoulder. "Toge-kun has such good taste, Megumi! He actually likes the underground bands I found!"

Megumi felt that familiar prickle of irritation. He knew Toge was harmless, and he knew Yuki saw everyone as a sibling, but the sight of her small frame tucked against someone else made him feel strangely possessive. He hated the feeling; it felt beneath him, yet he couldn't shake the desire to pull her away and hide her in his room.

Then there was Yuta Okkotsu. When the special-grade sorcerer returned from overseas, Yuki had practically tackled him. Because she was small, Yuta had instinctively caught her by the waist to keep them both from toppling over.

"You’re so tall now, Yuta-san!" she cried, dangling from his arms. "Did you bring me anything from Africa? Please tell me it’s jewelry!"

Yuta laughed nervously, his hand lingering on her waist to steady her. "I did get you a necklace, Yuki. It’s in my bag."

Megumi, standing five feet away, felt his shadows flicker at his feet. The Divine Dogs let out a low, phantom whine in the back of his mind. He turned on his heel and walked away before he said something he’d regret.

But the breaking point was Satoru Gojo.

Gojo was a menace on a good day, but he seemed to take special delight in pushing Megumi’s buttons. He found Yuki in the courtyard and, with his usual lack of boundaries, picked her up by the armpits and spun her around like a child.

"My favorite little goth!" Gojo cheered. "Look at you, still wearing that tiny uniform. Don't you get cold, Yuki-chan?"

"I have the power of fashion to keep me warm, Sensei!" she laughed, kicking her boots in the air.

Gojo set her down but kept an arm draped heavily over her shoulders, leaning his weight on her. "Megumi is being so grumpy today. Why don't you come with me to get sweets instead? We can leave the sourpuss behind."

Megumi’s shadows surged. A dark puddle formed beneath him, and the ground began to tremble.

"Gojo-sensei," Megumi said, his voice dropping an octave. "Let her go. We have things to do."

Gojo grinned behind his blindfold, sensing the victory. "Oh? Is Megumi-kun jealous? How cute!"

Yuki blinked, looking between her boyfriend and her teacher. She skipped over to Megumi, sensing the genuine tension in his shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. "Gumi? Are you okay? Your cursed energy is all wobbly."

Megumi didn't answer. He just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, his fingers digging slightly into the fabric of her skirt. He glared at Gojo until the older man held up his hands in mock surrender and sauntered away, cackling.

That night, the air in the dorms was thick with a different kind of tension.

The jealousy that had been simmering in Megumi all week finally boiled over, but it didn't manifest as anger. Instead, it was a desperate, heavy need. When they were finally alone in his room, the door locked and the moonlight filtering through the window, the silence felt loud.

Yuki was sitting on the edge of his bed, unlacing her heavy black boots. "You were really weird today," she said softly, not looking up. "You didn't even talk to me during dinner."

Megumi stood by the window, his back to her. "I don't like how they touch you."

Yuki paused, a boot dangling from her hand. She looked up, her dark eyes wide. "What?"

"Yuji, Toge, Yuta... even Gojo," Megumi muttered, finally turning to face her. His expression was pained, his usual stoicism cracked. "They’re always all over you. And you let them. You hug them, you lean on them... it drives me crazy, Yuki."

Yuki stared at him for a moment, and then a slow, soft smile spread across her face. She dropped the boot and stood up, walking over to him. She reached up, cupping his face with her small, cool hands.

"Gumi," she whispered. "They’re just friends. You’re the one I love. You’re the only one I want to be with like this."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him—not the quick, energetic peck she gave him in public, but something deep, slow, and demanding.

The rest of the night was a blur of heat and whispered promises. It was their first time, a clumsy yet profound exploration of one another. Megumi, who usually held himself with such rigid control, found himself completely undone by her. He discovered that the skin of her waist was even softer than it looked, and that the sounds she made when he touched her were far more intoxicating than any silence he had ever sought.

In the quiet aftermath, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Megumi didn't pull away. Usually, he was a person who needed his space, but tonight, he felt a new, primal instinct. He tucked her head under his chin, his arms locked around her as if she might disappear if he loosened his grip.

"Megumi?" she murmured, her voice sleepy. "You’re squeezing me."

"Sorry," he whispered, but he didn't let go. He just shifted so she was more comfortable, his heart beating a steady rhythm against her ear.

The next morning, the change in Megumi Fushiguro was apparent to everyone within five minutes of breakfast.

The Tokyo students were gathered in the common area. Yuki was sitting on the sofa, nursing a cup of tea, dressed in a fresh version of her tiny uniform. Usually, Megumi would be sitting across from her or at a nearby table, brooding over a coffee.

Instead, Megumi was sitting right next to her. Not just next to her—he was practically on top of her. His arm was draped firmly around her waist, pulling her side against his chest. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and his eyes were narrowed at anyone who walked within a three-foot radius.

Yuji walked in, yawning. "Morning, guys! Hey, Yuki, did you see the—"

He stopped mid-sentence. Megumi’s gaze snapped to him, cold and territorial. It was the look of a wolf guarding its mate.

"Uh... morning, Fushiguro," Yuji said, blinking. "You okay? You look like you’re trying to fuse with her."

Yuki giggled, leaning back into Megumi’s touch. She reached up and ruffled his messy black hair. "He’s just being a little clingy today, Yuji. Don't mind him."

"Clingy?" Nobara walked in, stopping dead at the sight. She pointed a finger at the pair. "Fushiguro? The guy who hates public displays of affection more than he hates Gojo’s jokes? That Fushiguro?"

Megumi didn't flush. He didn't look away. He simply tightened his grip on Yuki’s waist, his fingers splayed across her exposed midriff. "What of it?" he asked, his voice flat.

Nobara’s jaw dropped. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Megumi?"

Toge walked in next, carrying a carton of rice balls. He stopped, tilted his head, and blinked at the scene. "Tuna mayo?"

"He’s fine, Toge-kun!" Yuki laughed, her eyes bright with mischief. She turned her head to look at Megumi, whose face was still buried partially in her neck. "Gumi, you’re embarrassing yourself. Everyone is staring."

"Let them stare," Megumi muttered, his breath warm against her skin.

Panda wandered in, taking one look at the situation and letting out a low whistle. "Oh, I see. Someone finally staked his claim. About time, Fushiguro. You were vibrating with jealousy all week."

"I was not," Megumi lied, though he didn't move an inch.

The door slid open again, and Satoru Gojo bounced in with his usual theatrics. "Good morning, my wonderful students! Today we—"

Gojo stopped. He lowered his sunglasses, peering over the rims at the couple on the sofa. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face.

"Well, well, well," Gojo purred. "Look at our moody little Megumi. You’ve certainly changed your tune since yesterday. Is there something you want to share with the class?"

Megumi finally felt a flush of heat creep up his neck, but he refused to let go. He stared Gojo down with a defiance that made the older sorcerer laugh out loud.

"Yuki-chan," Gojo teased, leaning down toward them. "Is he bothering you? Do you need me to rescue you from the big bad wolf?"

Yuki laughed, a clear, bell-like sound that filled the room. She leaned over and kissed Megumi’s jaw, right in front of everyone. "No thanks, Sensei. I think I like him better this way."

Megumi hid his face in her shoulder, finally feeling the weight of the public attention, but his hand stayed firmly planted on her waist. He was still jealous, and he was still protective, but the hollow ache in his chest was gone.

"Salmon," Toge said, nodding in approval as he sat down to eat.

"You guys are gross," Nobara groaned, though she was smiling as she sat down next to Yuji. "But seriously, Fushiguro, if you start doing that baby-talk stuff, I’m moving out of the dorms."

"I’m not going to do baby-talk," Megumi snapped, though he didn't pull away when Yuki began playing with his fingers, interlacing them with her own.

For the rest of the day, Megumi remained her shadow. When she walked to the vending machine, he was behind her. When she sat in the grass to watch the first-years train, he sat behind her, his legs bracketed around her. It was a complete reversal of his usual personality, a silent declaration to the world that she belonged to him.

Yuki didn't mind at all. She thrived on the attention, her energetic personality blooming under his constant touch. She would occasionally look back at him and laugh at the sheer intensity of his gaze, whispering something private that would make his ears turn red.

As the sun began to set over the campus, casting long shadows across the training grounds, Yuta approached them. He looked at Megumi’s protective stance and offered a kind, knowing smile.

"I think the necklace I got for her is in my room, Megumi. Do you want to come with her to get it?" Yuta asked, his tone teasing but gentle.

Megumi looked at Yuki, then back at Yuta. He softened his grip, just a little. "Yeah. We’ll both go."

Yuki stood up, pulling Megumi with her. She hopped onto her toes, pressing a messy kiss to his nose. "See? I told you it would be fine."

Megumi sighed, his stoicism finally returning, though his hand remained firmly linked with hers. "Just... don't let Gojo pick you up again."

"No promises!" she chirped, dragging him toward the dorms.

Megumi followed, his shadows trailing behind them like a loyal guard, finally at peace now that the whole world knew exactly who she went home to.