Me + U

The red gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High felt less like the entrance to a prestigious school and more like the finish line of a year-long marathon. For Yumi, the twelve months she had spent back home while Megumi Fushiguro attended his first year of sorcery training had been the longest of her life.

She smoothed down the fabric of her new uniform, her fingers lingering on the hem of the black miniskirt she had insisted on. It was a bit shorter than the standard issue, but Yumi liked the way it made her feel—agile, feminine, and impossible to ignore. Her long, straight black hair caught the mountain breeze, shimmering like silk against her back.

"You're late," a familiar, stoic voice called out.

Yumi didn't need to look up to know who it was. She broke into a sprint, her loafers clicking against the stone path. She didn't slow down as she approached the tall, dark-haired boy standing under the shade of a maple tree. Instead, she launched herself at him.

"Megumi!" she squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and hooking her legs around his waist.

Megumi grunted as the impact forced him back a step, but his arms instinctively moved to catch her, supporting her thighs to keep her from slipping. To anyone else, Megumi Fushiguro was a fortress of ice—unapproachable, blunt, and perpetually annoyed. But as he adjusted his grip on Yumi, his expression softened into something dangerously close to a smile.

"Get down, Yumi. People are watching," he muttered, though he made no move to push her away.

"Let them watch," she murmured into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and the faint, metallic tang of cursed energy that always clung to him. "I missed you so much. Grandparents kept asking when you’d visit, but you were always on missions."

A few yards away, Nobara Kugisaki and Yuji Itadori stood with their jaws practically hitting the pavement. Maki Zenin leaned against her polearm, an eyebrow arched in amusement, while Panda and Toge Inumaki exchanged confused glances.

"Is that... Fushiguro?" Yuji whispered, pointing a trembling finger. "The guy who threatened to exorcise me twice last week for eating his ginger? He’s letting her climb him like a tree?"

"And he’s not even scowling," Nobara added, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "He looks... patient. Like a tired dad with a golden retriever."

"Salmon," Toge agreed solemnly.

Yumi finally slid down, though she kept her hand firmly laced through Megumi’s. She turned to his friends, offering a bright, unabashed grin. "Hi! I'm Yumi. We grew up next door to each other. I've been sleeping in his bed since I was five, so don't mind me."

Megumi let out a sharp cough, his ears turning a vivid shade of pink. "Don't say it like that. It sounds wrong."

"But it’s true," Yumi teased, tugging on his arm to lead him toward the dorms. "Remember when Gojo-sensei tried to buy us separate bunk beds and I cried until he gave up? You didn't complain then."

Megumi sighed, a long-suffering sound that held no real heat. "I was six. I didn't have the energy to argue with you back then either."

Throughout the day, the students of Jujutsu High were treated to a spectacle they never thought possible. They watched as Yumi sat practically in Megumi’s lap during lunch, picking pieces of bell pepper out of her stir-fry and dropping them into his bowl. Megumi ate them without a word, occasionally reaching up to tuck a stray strand of black hair behind her ear.

When a group of second-year boys from another department tried to strike up a conversation with the "cute new girl in the miniskirt," Megumi didn't even have to say anything. He simply stepped between them and Yumi, his shadow elongating slightly on the ground, his gaze so cold and predatory that the boys scrambled away within seconds.

"You're being overprotective," Yumi whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I'm being realistic," Megumi countered. "You have no sense of danger."

"I have you," she replied simply. "Why would I need a sense of danger?"

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges, the reality of the school's strict dorm policy set in. They were in separate wings—men and women. For the first time in their lives, there was a physical barrier intended to keep them apart.

But Yumi had been sneaking into Megumi’s room since before she knew how to do long division. A few locked doors and a curfew weren't going to stop her now.

Around midnight, the floorboards in the boys' dormitory creaked ever so slightly. Megumi was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the moonlight filtering through the window, when his door clicked open. A petite silhouette slipped inside, closing the door with practiced silence.

"Yumi," he said, his voice low and gravelly in the dark. "You shouldn't be here."

"I couldn't sleep," she whispered, crossing the room. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that clearly belonged to him, her bare legs pale in the moonlight. She climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers back as if she owned the space. "It’s too quiet in my room. I keep thinking a curse is going to crawl out from under the bed."

"You’re a sorcerer now," Megumi reminded her, though he shifted to make room for her. "You can kill whatever crawls out from under the bed."

"That’s not the point." She crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. "I just want to be where you are."

Usually, this was where Megumi would sigh, lie down, and let her use his arm as a pillow until they both drifted off. But tonight, he remained stiff. He didn't lie down. Instead, he took her wrists and gently but firmly pulled her back so he could look into her eyes.

"Yumi, listen to me," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "We aren't kids anymore."

"I know that," she said, blinking.

"No, you don't." Megumi leaned in, his face inches from hers. The "gentle and patient" Megumi the others had seen today was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he was at the end of his rope. "Growing up with you... it was easy to pretend. But I’m a man now. And having you in my bed, wearing my clothes, touching me like this... it’s not the same as when we were ten."

Yumi felt her heart skip a beat. "Megumi?"

"I’ve spent years holding back," he confessed, his grip on her wrists tightening just a fraction. "Every time a guy at school tried to talk to you, I wanted to summon Divine Dogs just to scare them off. Every time you fall asleep on me, I have to keep my hands still because if I start touching you the way I actually want to, I don't think I’ll be able to stop."

He let go of her wrists, turning his face away. "It’s better if you go back to your room. I’m tired of holding back, Yumi. And if you stay, I might do something you aren't ready for."

The silence in the room was heavy, filled only by the sound of their rhythmic breathing. Yumi looked at his profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. She realized then that while she had been clinging to him for comfort, he had been carrying the weight of a much more intense, much more adult desire.

She didn't get up. Instead, she reached out, her small hand cupping his cheek and turning his face back toward her.

"Who said I wasn't ready?" she whispered.

Megumi’s eyes widened. "Yumi, don't play. I'm serious."

"I'm serious too," she said, her voice steady. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. "I didn't stay away from other boys because they thought I was yours. I stayed away because I *am* yours. I’ve always been yours. If you're tired of holding back... then stop."

Megumi let out a shaky breath, his resolve finally snapping. He moved with a sudden, fluid grace, pinning her back against the pillows. His weight was a warm, solid pressure that made Yumi’s breath hitch. He looked down at her, searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he lowered his head.

When his lips met hers, it wasn't the chaste, innocent peck they had shared as children on dares. It was deep, hungry, and desperate. It tasted of years of suppressed longing and the fierce protectiveness that defined his soul.

Yumi’s hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangling in the dark spikes as she pulled him closer. She felt his hand slide from her waist, moving upward under the hem of the oversized shirt. His palm was warm and slightly calloused against her skin, sending sparks through her nerves.

He pulled back just an inch, his thumb tracing her lower lip which was now flushed and swollen. "Are you sure?" he rasped. "Once I start, I’m not going back to just being the boy next door."

Yumi smiled, a soft, knowing expression that reached her eyes. She reached up, pulling his head back down to hers.

"I never wanted the boy next door," she murmured against his lips. "I wanted you."

Outside, the wind howled through the trees of the Jujutsu High campus, and the shadows danced against the walls. But inside the room, the distance that had been growing between them for a year vanished completely. There were no curses to fight tonight, no missions to complete—only the quiet, rhythmic settling of two lives finally locking into place, exactly where they were always meant to be.