Love you

The hem of Yumi’s pleated miniskirt fluttered against her thighs as she paced the perimeter of the training grounds. To anyone else, the Jujutsu High uniform was a symbol of duty and danger, but to Yumi, it felt like a costume for a play she no longer knew the lines to. Her long, straight black hair swayed with every frantic step, a dark curtain that she often hid behind when the world felt too loud.

For as long as she could remember, there had been Yuta. He was the gravity that kept her small world spinning. He had been the one to hold her hand when she was scared of the dark, the one to share his umbrella during sudden summer downpours, and the one who looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. But since they had enrolled at the Tokyo school, the air had changed.

Yuta was a Special Grade sorcerer now. He had responsibilities, heavy burdens, and, most agonizingly, new friends.

Yumi stopped her pacing, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the fabric of her skirt. Across the field, she saw them. Yuta was laughing—actually laughing—at something Maki Zenin had said. Maki stood with her polearm resting casually against her shoulder, her posture radiating a confidence that Yumi felt she could never emulate. They looked like a matched set, two warriors standing in the sun, while Yumi felt like a ghost haunting the shade of the corridor.

The jealousy wasn't a sharp sting; it was a slow, drowning tide. It made her clingy, made her text him a dozen times a day, and made her heart ache every time he replied with a polite "I’m training with Maki right now, talk later!"

Today, the tide finally broke.

As Yuta headed toward the vending machines, leaving Maki alone to sharpen her weapon, Yumi marched onto the dirt. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her small frame trembling with a mix of fear and fury.

"You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?" Yumi’s voice cracked as she reached the center of the training area.

Maki didn't even look up at first. She continued running a whetstone along the edge of her blade. "I don't think about you much at all, Yumi. You should be practicing your cursed energy output instead of lurking in the shadows."

"I’m not lurking! I’m waiting for Yuta!" Yumi stepped closer, her face flushed. "You’re taking all his time. You’re always around him, whispering in his ear, making him forget about me. He’s *my* best friend. He’s mine!"

Maki finally looked up, her gaze sharp behind her glasses. "He isn't a toy, kid. He’s a sorcerer with a destiny that doesn't involve holding your hand twenty-four hours a day. You’re holding him back with this clingy act."

"It’s not an act!" Yumi lunged forward, not with a technique, but with the raw, uncoordinated desperation of a girl who felt her heart being stolen.

Maki moved with the grace of a predator. She didn't even use her weapon. She simply pivoted, catching Yumi’s wrist and using the girl’s own momentum to send her sprawling. Yumi hit the packed earth hard. The rough gravel tore through her stockings, and she felt the sharp, stinging heat of skin breaking on her knees.

A small crowd had begun to gather. Toge and Panda stood by the entrance, looking concerned, while Yuji Itadori’s eyes went wide.

"Whoa, hey! Someone should get Yuta!" Yuji shouted, already turning on his heel to sprint toward the dorms.

Yumi sat on the floor, staring at her bloodied knees. The physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation. She looked up at Maki, who was standing over her with an expression of pure annoyance.

"Get up," Maki said coldly. "If you’re going to pick a fight, at least have the dignity to finish it."

"I hate you," Yumi whispered, her voice trembling. "I hate how you look at him. I hate how he looks at you."

"What is going on here?"

The voice was soft, but it carried an authority that silenced the field. Yuta stood at the edge of the circle, his face pale, his eyes darting between Maki’s defensive stance and Yumi’s crumpled form on the ground. He rushed forward, kneeling beside Yumi, his hands hovering over her as if he were afraid she might shatter.

"Yumi? Are you okay? What happened?"

Yumi’s vision blurred as tears finally spilled over. "Yuta... she pushed me... she..."

"Oh, give it a rest," Maki interrupted, crossing her arms. "She came over here looking for a fight because she’s jealous. She’s making a scene just because you spent thirty minutes practicing with me instead of her."

Yuta looked at Maki, then back at Yumi. "Is that true?"

"She was being mean!" Yumi sobbed, grabbing the sleeve of Yuta’s white jacket. "She said I was a burden to you!"

Maki scoffed, turning her back on them. "She’s selfish and childish, Yuta. She doesn't care about your growth as a sorcerer; she only cares about having you as her personal bodyguard. She fought me out of pure, petty jealousy."

The words felt like a slap. Yumi looked up at Yuta, hoping to see the usual soft protectiveness in his eyes, but instead, she saw a flicker of exhaustion. He looked tired. Tired of the friction, tired of the tug-of-war.

"Yumi..." he started, his voice heavy.

She didn't let him finish. The shame was too much. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sting in her knees, and pushed past him.

"Fine! If I’m such a burden, then just stay with her!" Yumi screamed, her voice echoing off the concrete walls of the school. She didn't look back as she ran, her long hair flying behind her like a tattered flag of surrender.

She bolted into her dorm room, slammed the door, and locked it. She didn't turn on the lights. She simply threw herself onto her bed, curling into a small ball and pulling the duvet over her head. The darkness felt safer. In the dark, she didn't have to see Maki’s strength or Yuta’s disappointment.

She cried until her throat felt raw, her mind replaying every moment of the last few months. She felt small, useless, and utterly replaceable.

A soft click echoed in the room.

Yumi froze. She knew that sound. It was the sound of a spare key turning—a key she had given Yuta years ago when they were children, a symbol of a trust she thought had been broken.

The mattress creaked as a weight settled onto it. Yumi squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to emerge from her cocoon.

"Go away," she muffled into the pillow.

"I'm not going anywhere," Yuta’s voice was right behind her.

Before she could protest, he moved. He didn't just sit there; he climbed onto the bed, sliding his arms around her entire body, duvet and all. He pulled her back against his chest, holding her with a strength that was both firm and incredibly gentle.

"Yumi, talk to me," he whispered into the back of her head.

"Maki was right," Yumi sobbed, her body shaking against his. "I am selfish. I’m childish. I just... I can’t stand it, Yuta. Everything is changing. You’re becoming this amazing person, and everyone wants a piece of you, and I’m just me. I’m just the girl from next door who can’t keep up."

Yuta squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You aren't 'just' anything to me."

"But you like her!" Yumi cried, finally turning in his arms to look at him, her face tear-stained and desperate. "She’s strong and she understands your world. I’m just clingy and annoying and I hate that I feel this way, but I love you so much it hurts! I’ve loved you since we were six years old, and seeing you with her makes me feel like I’m losing my entire life!"

She expected him to look away. She expected him to tell her that he only saw her as a sister, or that she was being dramatic.

Instead, Yuta’s expression softened into something profoundly tender. His hand came up, his fingers brushing a stray strand of black hair away from her damp cheek.

"You think I could ever replace you?" he asked quietly.

"She’s better for you," Yumi whispered.

"Maki is my friend and my teammate," Yuta said, his gaze locking onto hers. "But she isn't my home. You’ve always been my home, Yumi. I’ve been trying so hard to become strong so that I could protect this—so I could protect *us*. I thought if I worked hard, I could give you a world where you didn't have to be afraid. I didn't realize I was leaving you behind in the process."

Yumi’s breath hitched. "Yuta?"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "I don't want Maki. I never did."

Then, he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft, tasting of salt and lingering sadness, but it carried the weight of a decade of unspoken promises. It was the answer to every doubt she had ever harbored. Yuta wasn't pulling away from her; he was anchoring himself to her.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slightly flushed, a small, shy smile playing on his lips—the same smile he used to give her when they were kids sharing a secret.

"I love you too, Yumi. I’ve been waiting for a long time to hear you say that."

Yumi blinked, her heart racing a mile a minute. "But... you’re a Special Grade. I’m just..."

"You’re Yumi," he interrupted, kissing the tip of her nose. "And you’re the most important person in my world. Now, let me see those knees. I brought some ointment."

Yumi let out a small, watery laugh, burying her face in his chest as he shifted to reach for a first-aid kit he had brought with him. She was still small, and she was still a little bit jealous, but as Yuta carefully tended to her scrapes, she realized she didn't need to fight for his attention.

She had already won it a long time ago.