I see your face turned away

The training grounds of Jujutsu High were rarely silent, but today the air felt particularly heavy with the sound of wooden blades clashing and the rhythmic thud of feet against the dirt. Yuta Okkotsu stood by the edge of the shade, his back against a weathered wooden pillar. His hand rested idly on the hilt of his sword, but his eyes were fixed on the center of the field.

In the middle of the clearing, Yumi was laughing. It was a bright, infectious sound that seemed entirely out of place in a world of curses and blood. She was a small, delicate-looking young woman with long, straight black hair that shimmered like silk under the afternoon sun. Today, she had opted for her customized uniform—a blazer paired with a pleated miniskirt that was significantly shorter than the standard issue. It was a choice that turned heads every time she walked through the corridors, but Yumi seemed blissfully unaware of the stir she caused, or perhaps she simply enjoyed the breeze.

Opposite her was Megumi Fushiguro.

Yuta watched with a tightening in his chest as Megumi lunged forward, not with his usual lethal efficiency, but with a calculated slowness. It wasn't that he was mocking her; it was that he was being careful. When Yumi tripped over her own feet—a common occurrence given her clumsy, bubbly nature—Megumi didn't let her hit the ground. His hand shot out, catching her firmly by the waist, steadying her before she could even squeak in surprise.

"Careful," Megumi muttered. His voice lacked its usual sharp edge. "You’re leading with your heels again."

Yumi grinned up at him, her face flushed from the exercise. "I can't help it, Megumi! My legs are just too long for my own good."

"Your legs are regular-sized, Yumi. You’re just uncoordinated," Megumi replied, but he didn't pull his hand away immediately. He lingered for a second too long, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her skirt before he stepped back.

Yuta gripped his scabbard until his knuckles turned white. He had seen Megumi train with Nobara; it was a relentless exchange of hammers and nails. He had seen Megumi train with Itadori; it was a brutal display of martial arts. But with Yumi, Megumi was a different person. He was patient. He was gentle. He was... attentive.

"They look like they're having fun," a voice said beside Yuta.

Panda leaned against the pillar, munching on a bamboo leaf. "Fushiguro has been spending a lot of time in the library lately. Maki says he’s been reading historical fiction. Since when does that kid care about anything that isn't a manual on Zenin techniques?"

"Since Yumi started working there," Yuta said, his voice lower than intended.

"Bingo," Panda hummed. "She’s cute, she’s funny, and she actually listens to him talk about those dogs of his for hours. It’s a deadly combination for a guy like Megumi."

Yuta didn't stay to hear the rest of Panda’s commentary. He turned on his heel and walked away, the image of Megumi’s hand on Yumi’s waist burned into his retinas.

The jealousy wasn't a sharp pain; it was a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed in time with his cursed energy. Yuta knew he had no right to be possessive. He and Yumi had something special—at least, he thought they did. They shared quiet lunches and he often walked her back to her dorm, shielding her from the more eccentric members of the school. But Megumi was a constant presence, a shadow that seemed to be lengthening over Yumi’s life.

Later that evening, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold. Yuta found himself standing outside the library doors. He knew they were in there. He had seen them walk in together an hour ago, Yumi chatting animatedly about a new novel she’d found, and Megumi nodding along with an expression of genuine interest that he rarely afforded anyone else.

Yuta pushed the doors open. The library was silent, smelling of old paper and floor wax. He navigated the stacks until he reached the back corner, a secluded nook filled with comfortable beanbags and low tables.

There they were. Yumi was curled up in a chair, her shoes kicked off, her long hair spilling over the armrest. Megumi sat on the floor beside her, a heavy tome open on his lap, but he wasn't reading. He was looking at her. They were speaking in hushed tones, a private conversation that felt like a barrier Yuta couldn't breach.

"The ending was just so sad," Yumi whispered, her bottom lip trembling slightly in that dramatic, adorable way she had. "I didn't expect the hero to stay behind."

"It was the only way the others could survive," Megumi said softly. "Sometimes, sacrifice is the only logical choice. But I agree. It was... heavy."

He reached up, his fingers hovering near her face as if to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He caught himself at the last moment, pulling back, but the intent was clear.

"Megumi," Yuta said, his voice cutting through the intimate atmosphere like a blade.

Both of them jumped. Yumi’s eyes widened, and she immediately sat up, her skirt riding up further. "Yuta! You scared me. Are you here to pick out a book too?"

Yuta forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Not exactly. I was looking for Fushiguro. We need to discuss the report for the mission tomorrow."

Megumi stood up slowly, his expression shifting back to his usual stoic mask. "The report is finished. I left it on Shoko’s desk."

"I have some questions about the cursed spirit’s movements," Yuta lied. He looked at Yumi, his gaze softening for a brief moment. "Yumi, would you mind giving us a minute? I think Maki was looking for you in the common room. Something about a missing tracksuit?"

"Oh no, not again!" Yumi scrambled to her feet, grabbing her shoes. "She’s going to kill me if she thinks I borrowed it. See you guys later!"

She practically skipped out of the library, her laughter echoing in the hallway until the heavy doors swung shut.

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Megumi didn't move. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his dark eyes meeting Yuta’s without flinching.

"You wanted to talk about the mission?" Megumi asked.

"No," Yuta said, dropping the pretense. He stepped forward, entering Megumi’s personal space. "I want to talk about Yumi."

Megumi’s eyebrows twitched, the only sign of his unease. "What about her?"

"You’re being very protective of her, Megumi. More than usual. Even for a teammate." Yuta’s voice was steady, but there was an underlying current of power vibrating through the air. "I noticed it during sparring. And on the mission last week, you went out of your way to take the brunt of that Grade 2’s attack so she wouldn't get a scratch."

"She’s a healer, Yuta," Megumi replied coldly. "It’s tactical to keep her out of the line of fire. If she gets hurt, the rest of us lose our support."

"Is that all it is? Tactical?" Yuta challenged. "Because I don't see you taking 'tactical' trips to the library with anyone else. I don't see you holding anyone else’s hand when they trip."

Megumi straightened his posture, his gaze hardening. "I don't see why my actions are any of your business. Yumi doesn't seem to mind."

"She’s innocent, Megumi. She’s kind to everyone," Yuta said, his jealousy finally bubbling to the surface. "She might not see what you’re doing, but I do. You’re hovering. You’re trying to make yourself the person she relies on."

Megumi took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And what if I am? You’ve been away for a long time, Yuta. You don't own her. She’s her own person, and if she chooses to spend her time with me, that’s her decision."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Yuta’s cursed energy flared instinctively, a dark, swirling aura that made the shadows in the corners of the room dance. "I’m not saying she’s a prize to be won. But I care about her. Deeply. And I don't appreciate you moving in while I’m trying to figure things out with her."

Megumi didn't back down. He summoned his own energy, his shadow lengthening and twisting on the floor. "Then maybe you should have figured it out sooner. You’re the one who hesitates. You’re the one who watches from the sidelines while I’m actually there for her."

The air between them crackled. It was a clash of wills, two of the strongest sorcerers of their generation standing on the verge of a confrontation over a girl who was currently probably being scolded by Maki for a misplaced sweater.

"She’s happy when she’s with me," Megumi added, his voice cutting through Yuta’s anger. "Have you noticed that? She laughs more. She feels safe. If you have a problem with her being happy, then the problem is yours, not mine."

Yuta felt the sting of those words because he knew there was a grain of truth in them. He had been so caught up in his own burdens, in the weight of Rika and his status as a Special Grade, that he often forgot to just *be* with Yumi. He treated her like something fragile that needed to be locked away, while Megumi treated her like someone who belonged by his side.

Yuta took a deep breath, forcing his cursed energy to recede. He didn't want to fight Megumi—not over this. "I’m not going to tell you to stay away from her," Yuta said, his voice quieter now. "I can't do that. But don't think I’m just going to step aside."

Megumi watched him for a long moment, the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"She deserves the best," Yuta said, looking toward the door where she had exited.

"I know," Megumi replied.

They stood in the silence of the library for a few more minutes, the rivalry between them shifting from something hostile to something more like a mutual understanding. They were both sorcerers; they knew that in their world, happiness was a fleeting, precious thing.

"She’s going to be at the vending machines in ten minutes," Megumi said suddenly, turning back toward the bookshelves. "She always gets a strawberry milk after she deals with Maki. It makes her feel better."

Yuta blinked, surprised by the admission. "Strawberry milk?"

"Yeah," Megumi said, a small, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. "And she’ll probably forget her change in the machine. She always does."

Yuta looked at Megumi, really looking at him, and realized that the younger boy wasn't just trying to steal her away. He truly cared for her. He knew the small, mundane details that made up the fabric of Yumi’s life.

"Thanks, Megumi," Yuta said.

Megumi didn't look up from his book. "Don't thank me. I’m still going to the library with her tomorrow. We’re halfway through the sequel."

Yuta chuckled, a genuine sound this time. "I guess I’ll have to start reading more then."

As Yuta walked out of the library and toward the vending machines, he felt the weight on his chest lift slightly. The jealousy was still there—a low hum in the back of his mind—but it was tempered by a new resolve. He wouldn't let his fears or his past keep him from the person who made him feel human.

He reached the vending machine just as Yumi was approaching. She looked a little frazzled, her hair slightly messy, but her face lit up the moment she saw him.

"Yuta! You’re still here!" she cried, running up to him. Her miniskirt fluttered as she stopped abruptly in front of him. "Maki was so grumpy. I really need something sweet."

"I know," Yuta said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some coins. "Strawberry milk, right?"

Yumi’s eyes went wide, sparkling with delight. "How did you know? You’re like a psychic, Yuta!"

"Just a lucky guess," he said, punching the button.

As the bottle clattered into the bin, Yuta reached out and caught Yumi’s hand. It was small and warm in his. He didn't let go as he handed her the drink.

"Do you want to walk to the roof?" he asked. "The stars should be coming out soon."

Yumi beamed at him, her grip on his hand tightening. "I’d love to! But only if you promise to tell me about your mission. Megumi says you did something really cool with your sword."

Yuta felt a pang of appreciation for the boy back in the library. "I’ll tell you everything," he promised.

As they walked toward the stairs, Yuta looked back over his shoulder toward the library windows. He couldn't see Megumi, but he knew the shadow user was there, watching over the school, watching over her. It wasn't a competition he had won, but a journey they were all navigating together.

And for now, with Yumi’s hand in his and the scent of strawberries in the air, that was enough.