Eat you

The air in the Tokyo Jujutsu High courtyard was unusually crisp for the season, a biting wind that seemed to herald a shift in more than just the weather. For Megumi Fushiguro, life had recently settled into a rhythm that felt almost dangerously comfortable. His relationship with Yuki was a constant, a soft anchor in a world of jagged edges and cursed spirits. After the intensity of their recent intimacy, he felt a deeper claim to her, a sense of belonging that he wasn't used to expressing.

That comfort shattered the moment the gates swung open.

A tall, lean figure stepped through, shoulders hunched slightly under a white sorcerer’s uniform. His gaze was weary, carrying the weight of distant horizons and prolonged isolation. But the moment his eyes landed on the small girl standing near the training grounds, the exhaustion vanished, replaced by a bright, genuine warmth.

"Yuki!"

The sound of his voice triggered a reaction in Yuki that Megumi had never seen. She didn't just walk; she bolted. With a cry of pure, unadulterated joy, she sprinted across the gravel, her small frame launching into the air.

"Yuta! You’re back! You’re finally back!"

Megumi watched, rooted to the spot, as the newcomer—Yuta Okkotsu—caught her effortlessly. He spun her around, her skirt fluttering in the wind, while she clung to his neck as if she were afraid he might evaporate into the ether. There was a familiarity in the way they held each other, a lack of boundaries that made Megumi’s chest tighten with a sudden, sharp pang of territorial instinct.

"Who is that?" Megumi asked, his voice low and tight.

Maki Zenin, leaning against a nearby pillar with her spear resting on her shoulder, let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "That’s Okkotsu. Our second-year powerhouse. He’s been in Africa for ages."

"They seem... close," Megumi noted, his eyes narrowing as Yuki finally retreated to the ground, though she kept her hand firmly gripped on Yuta’s sleeve.

"Close doesn't cover it," Panda added, strolling up to join them. "Those two were joined at the hip since they were kids. Childhood sweethearts in the making, or so we all thought."

The tightening in Megumi’s chest turned into a cold, heavy knot.

Dinner that evening was a boisterous affair in the common room. Usually, Yuki sat next to Megumi, her thigh pressing against his, occasionally stealing pieces of ginger from his plate. Tonight, she was squeezed into the bench next to Yuta, her face flushed with excitement as she hung on his every word.

"Remember when Yuki tried to ‘exorcise’ that stray cat because she thought it was a low-grade curse?" Maki grinned, pointing a chopstick at the pair. "She was crying her eyes out because she didn't want to hurt it, and Yuta had to carry her home on his back because she tripped and scraped both knees."

Yuta laughed, a soft, melodic sound. "I remember. She told me right then that if I promised to protect her from cats, she’d marry me when we grew up."

Yuki hid her face in her hands, giggling. "I was six, Yuta! Don't bring that up!"

"You said it again when we were fourteen, though," Panda chimed in, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Right before Yuta got his official assignment abroad. You were sobbing at the airport, telling him you’d wait forever."

The table erupted in lighthearted teasing. Megumi, sitting across from them, felt like a ghost at his own table. He watched the way Yuta looked at her—not with the raw, newfound hunger Megumi felt, but with a deep, seasoned affection that spanned years. It was a history he couldn't compete with. Every time Yuki laughed, her eyes would instinctively seek out Yuta’s, seeking validation in their shared memories.

Megumi barely touched his food. The jealousy wasn't a hot flare; it was a slow, agonizing burn. He remembered the way she had looked at him just days ago, sitting on his face, trembling under his touch, her innocence clashing with the intensity of their desire. He had thought he was the center of her world. Now, he felt like a footnote.

When the dinner finally ended, Megumi waited for Yuki outside her dorm room. The hallway was dimly lit, the shadows stretching long and thin. When she finally appeared, she was humming a tune, her steps light.

"Megumi!" she said, her smile faltering slightly when she saw the expression on his face. "Are you okay? You were so quiet during dinner."

"We need to talk," he said, his voice devoid of its usual calm.

She blinked, her head tilting in that cute, innocent way that usually softened his heart. "Is something wrong?"

"Yuta," Megumi said, the name feeling like ash in his mouth. "You never mentioned him. Not like that."

Yuki’s expression shifted to one of realization, and then, to his horror, confusion. She looked down at her feet, twisting the hem of her sweater. "He’s my best friend, Megumi. I didn't think... I mean, he’s been gone for so long. I didn't know he was coming back today."

"Panda said you were going to marry him," Megumi countered, his shadow flickering restlessly on the floor. "He said everyone expected you two to end up together."

"That was a long time ago," she whispered. But she didn't look up. "But seeing him again... it’s like all those years just disappeared. When he hugged me, I felt... I felt like I was home."

The words hit Megumi harder than any cursed technique ever could. He stepped back, his back hitting the cold stone wall. "Home? What am I, then? A temporary stay?"

Yuki looked up, her eyes swimming with tears. "No! It’s not like that. I love you, Megumi. I do. But I’m so confused. When I look at Yuta, I remember everything we promised each other. And when I look at you, I feel... I feel things I’ve never felt before. It’s different. But it’s messy."

"It’s not messy for me," Megumi said sharply. "I know exactly how I feel about you. But I won't be an option, Yuki. I won't sit around and wait for you to decide which version of your life you want to live—the childhood dream or the reality standing in front of you."

"Megumi, please don't be mad," she pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm.

He pulled away. The rejection was sharp, leaving her hand hanging in the empty air. "I'm not mad. I'm... I'm tired. If his return can shake you this easily, then maybe what we have isn't as strong as I thought."

"That’s not fair," she sobbed. "I’ve known him my whole life!"

"And you’ve known me for months," Megumi said quietly. "Maybe that’s the problem. You said I was your first boyfriend, but it sounds like Yuta was your first everything else, even if you didn't have a label for it."

Yuki didn't deny it. She couldn't. The silence that followed was suffocating, filled only by the sound of her muffled cries.

Megumi took a deep breath, trying to steady the shaking in his hands. He loved her—he loved her innocence, her willingness to follow him into the dark, the way she had completely surrendered herself to him. But he couldn't look at her without seeing the ghost of the boy in the white uniform standing between them.

"We need to stop," Megumi said.

Yuki’s head snapped up. "What? No! Megumi, please!"

"Not forever, maybe," he said, though the words felt like a lie even as he spoke them. "But I can't do this right now. I can't compete with a memory. You need to figure out what you want, Yuki. Truly. Without me hovering over you and without the pressure of what we’ve done together."

"Are you breaking up with me?" she asked, her voice small and broken.

"I’m putting us on a break," he corrected, though the distinction felt hollow. "Go spend time with him. See if that ‘home’ feeling is what you actually want. Because if it is, I’m not going to stand in the way."

He turned to leave, his heart feeling like a lead weight in his chest.

"Megumi!" she called out, her voice cracking.

He didn't turn back. He walked down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He went back to his room, but the space felt cavernous and cold. He sat on the edge of his bed, the same bed where Yuki had sat just days prior, looking at him with eyes full of devotion.

He thought about Yuta’s smile, the effortless way he had held her, and the way Yuki had looked like she finally belonged somewhere.

Megumi closed his eyes, summoning his shadows. For the first time, he felt like they were the only things that would never leave him. He had given her his trust, his body, and a part of his soul he usually kept guarded behind a thousand walls. And in a single afternoon, a ghost from her past had made her question it all.

Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windowpane. In the room down the hall, Yuki sat on her floor, her face buried in her knees, torn between the boy who was her past and the man who was her present, while the shadows of Tokyo High grew longer, threatening to swallow them both.