The day after the intense training session and a night filled with new uncertainties, the Tokyo Jujutsu High was preparing to welcome Kyoto new first-year students. There was a buzz in the air, and also a certain solemnity. The welcoming ceremony wasn't just a greeting—it was a ritual.
The doors opened with the familiar sound of spiritual seals dissipating, and four figures stepped in.Yuji Itadori, with his open smile and radiant presence. Megumi Fushiguro, eyes sharp and quiet, as if he observed the world from a calculated distance. Nobara Kugisaki, striding with purpose, her lively eyes ready to take control of every room.
And finally, Saya Inumaki, Toge's half-sister. Elegant and composed, she seemed to carry a fragment of her brother's soul with her.
We greeted them respectfully. As always, Gojo-sensei made a grand entrance to officially begin the ceremony with one of his dramatic openings:
"Welcome, my little budding curse-users! From today on, you are officially part of this madness—I mean—this family of the school!"
A short demonstration followed: a symbolic sparring match between Maki and Panda to show the newbies "how much you can grow." Then, each of us gave a few words of welcome.
When it was my turn, I simply said:
"I hope you'll find your strength here. And learn when to use it. "
That's when I noticed Yuji.
He was staring at me. Not rudely, not flirtatiously—but with a sincere smile, and eyes that didn't stop at the surface. Eyes that seemed to have already read a part of me, and were looking for the words to tell it.
After the ceremony, he approached me.
"Hey!" he called out, with the bright energy of someone not yet burdened by the weight of the world.
"No offense, but… you don't look like a sorcerer. More like a model. Tokyo really spoiled us this year, huh?" he laughed.
I raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Is that your way of breaking the ice?"
"Is it working?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
I burst out laughing. He wasn't the kind of guy who made your head spin—he just made you feel good. And in that moment... I needed that lightness.
Yuji stayed close to me for most of the day. He asked if I could show him around the school. Said he was curious, that he wanted to learn everything.
"Me? Why me?" I asked, surprised.
"Who better than you?" he replied, in a tone that was anything but flattering—it was just honest. I was disarmed by his natural kindness.
I agreed. I showed him the meditation halls, the library, the indoor dojo. We laughed a lot. He told me absurd anecdotes from his life before Jujutsu High, did spot-on impressions of Gojo-sensei.
He invited me to join the first-years for lunch.
"Just for today, since it's a special occasion."
"No," I replied, smiling. "I already have my table. But thank you."
He nodded. Didn't take offense. Just smiled again, and rejoined his group.
I returned to Maki, Yuta, and Panda. But I felt… lighter. As if, for a few hours, I'd set down the weight of my heart.
What I didn't see—but others did—was Toge.
On the far side of the courtyard, leaning against the second-floor railing.
His eyes fixed on us.
He didn't move. He didn't speak. But you could see it.
It was burning him from the inside. Not because I was doing anything wrong. But because, for the first time, I was laughing… without him.
After lunch, while I was still laughing at one of Panda's ridiculous jokes, Yuji approached our table with that disarming grin and his endless, glowing energy.
"Gojo-sensei told me there's an amazing tea room here," he said, looking at me. "You know it?"
"Well, yeah, of course," I answered. "Why?"
"Will you take me there?"
I looked at him for a second, trying to sense if there was some ulterior motive.
But there was only genuine excitement.
I stood up.
"Alright. Come on, then."
Yuji walked next to me with a light step, almost bouncing. Hands behind his back, torso slightly leaning forward like a curious kid. But his gaze... was anything but childish.
He talked the whole way. And he made me laugh.
"Did you know I once tried to cook instant ramen with cold water 'cause I broke the microwave? I swear, they looked like raw worms. And yes, I ate them anyway."
I laughed out loud.
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious. But hey, I'm still alive, so clearly I have the immune system of a god."
He did impressions—Gojo, Panda, Nobara when she's angry, even me. I was doubled over laughing.
"So that's how you walk, huh? Head high, proud, with a look that screams: 'Talk to me and I'll vaporize you.'" Yuji puffed out his chest and mimicked my stride with exaggerated precision.
"You're such an idiot!" I laughed. "But a funny one."
"Thanks, I'll take that as a medal of honor."
We arrived at the tea room. I unlocked it with a key only second-year students had. Inside, the scent of wood, incense, and tatami calmed every muscle in my body. The light was soft, filtered through paper panels. A pocket of peace in the chaos of the school.
We sat down. We kept talking—about the differences between Rome and Tokyo, the strangest curses we'd encountered, and how green tea tasted like freshly cut grass.
"Do you miss home?" he asked.
I looked down for a moment.
"Sometimes. But I wouldn't go back now. I'm trying to figure out who I am. Here."
He nodded and didn't say anything more. But the way he looked at me—attentive, fully present—said enough.
Later, he took me to properly meet his classmates. When we reached the courtyard, Maki, Panda, Yuta, and Toge were there. They were chatting among themselves, but as soon as they saw me with Yuji, the atmosphere shifted. Their eyes… were on us.
Megumi gave a small nod. Nobara eyed us with a mischievous smile. Saya… Saya came toward me.
"Rebecca!!"
"Saya!!"
I nodded, and she smiled—but her eyes said something else entirely. They were cold. Maybe she liked Yuji. Maybe she was jealous. Or maybe… it was something else. She greeted me quickly and walked away, glancing back just once to look at me again.
Yuji brought me over to the low wall where the first-years were sitting. We joined in their conversation.
"So you're saying," Nobara was asking Megumi, "that if this were an anime, you'd be the brooding protagonist?"
"I already am." he replied, stone-faced.
"And me?" Yuji asked eagerly.
"The hyperactive side character who dies halfway through." said Megumi.
"Wow, thanks a lot." Yuji laughed, then turned to me. "And you'd be the one who changes everything."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The one who enters the story and flips it on its head. The unexpected element."
His arm was so close to mine I could feel the warmth of his skin. For a moment, he brushed against me. Not by accident. But I didn't pull away. I liked being there. Feeling light. Feeling seen.
I wasn't doing anything wrong.
But I couldn't ignore the shadow standing a few meters away—Toge. Still.
Eyes down. Hands buried in his pockets.
He was watching.
And it was tearing him apart inside.
I spent most of the day with Yuji. It wasn't a deliberate choice—it was just… natural. We flowed into each other's rhythm, two kindred souls recognizing each other without needing words.
In the late afternoon, I returned to the others. Panda, Maki, Yuta, and Toge were still sitting on the stone steps, soaking up the last of the sunlight.
"Guys, I'm heading up," I said with a calm smile. "Going to rest a bit."
Panda raised his hand and winked.
"Good girl. You laughed too much today, that needs recovering from."
"'Night, Rebe!" said Maki. Yuta just smiled—genuine and warm.
Only Toge didn't speak.
He didn't write. He didn't move.
He just sat there, hands clasped, gaze fixed somewhere far away.
I didn't take it as an offense.
Yuji offered to walk me back to the dorms, even though we both knew we'd go our separate ways at the end.
"Come on, I'll be your personal bodyguard. You never know—some vengeful hallway ghost might be lurking." he joked, making spooky shapes with his hands.
"Are you always this dramatic?" I laughed.
"Only around people I like." he said seriously. Then blushed. "I mean—not like that. Just… I like talking to you! Don't worry, I'm harmless."
I kept laughing as we climbed the stairs. He kept talking, throwing a million questions my way: about Rome, my favorite food, the first spell I ever learned, the subject I hated most at school.He was so curious, so… alive.
As we walked, his arm brushed mine. Two or three times. Then it stayed close, almost deliberately.
Outside my room, he stopped.
There was no awkward silence—just a soft quiet, full of unspoken things.
"Thanks for today. You made my arrival… lighter." he said.
"You too, Itadori."
"Yuji. Just Yuji, come on."
He smiled, and for a second, it was that kind of smile. The one that leaves something behind. A warmth. A memory.
He leaned in slightly and, without crossing any line, brushed his fingers against my arm.
A gentle touch. As if he wanted to linger just a little longer.
"Goodnight, Rebecca. Sleep well."
I nodded and smiled. "You too, Yuji."
When I closed the door behind me, I paused. Rested my back against the cool wood. And sighed.
I hadn't done anything wrong.
But I didn't understand.
***
That morning, I walked into the classroom with Yuji.
We spoke in hushed voices, laughing, and his presence beside mine felt so natural that it left no room for anything else. I felt light. Alive. Free.
I greeted my friends — Maki, Panda, Yuta — with a sincere smile, giving them a small wave as I sat down.
There was an empty seat next to Toge.
I didn't even look at it.
I was too caught up in the moment — in Yuji's jokes, in his eyes full of wonder. He was infectious.
Every word from him felt like a warm breeze.
Then suddenly, the harsh screech of Toge's chair scraped through the room, slicing through the air like a blade. The sound silenced everything.
I turned instantly.
He was standing. Fists clenched.
His eyes... red. Tense. The look of someone who's held too much in, and finally snaps.
He wasn't looking at Yuji.
He was looking at me.
Without a word, he stormed toward me and grabbed my arm. It wasn't violent — but there was anger in him, an urgency I had never seen before.
He pulled me out of the classroom under the stunned gazes of everyone else.
Once outside, he turned to me, breathing hard. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and typed furiously:
"What was that? That little scene? In front of everyone. You and him. So close. So... happy."
"Scene?" I hissed. "Toge, are you serious? You left me. You pushed me away. You don't get to come back and question my happiness just because it hurts to see me smile with someone else."
He kept typing, furious:
"Why are you acting like I never existed? Like everything we had meant nothing? I loved you. I still love you. And you... you laugh like I was just a passing moment."
My throat tightened.
"I'm not the one who pretended it all disappeared. You chose to walk away. You made the decision for both of us. Remember? You said it was too dangerous to be with me. That your world could destroy me."
"And was I wrong? Look at you with him. So… free. So different. That freedom—I can't give it to you."
"It's not about freedom, Toge. It's about being there. Even when it hurts. You chose to vanish. You can't come back now and act like you still own me."
He stepped back. Ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Then typed again:
"It's killing me. Seeing him next to you. Hearing your laughter when it's no longer mine. I can't sleep. I can't breathe. Every part of me still reaches for you, even when I hate how you make me feel."
I was shaking. His pain was my pain.
But it wasn't enough.
"Loving me isn't enough, Toge. You have to stay. You have to fight. You ran away. You left me to pick up the pieces."
He didn't reply. He looked at me with those wounded eyes, full of guilt carved deep.
Then he stepped forward again.
Grabbed my arm — firmer this time. Not violently, but with a raw, desperate decisiveness.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, voice barely steady.
He didn't answer.
He led me through the hallways, past the morning shadows. His steps were sharp, angry.
I followed, heart pounding, drowning in a storm of emotion.
He opened the door to his room with a swift motion.
Made me step in.
And shut it behind us.
Silence fell like a curtain.
And I… I stood there. Watching him. Feeling everything.
Toge closed the door with a dull thud. He didn't speak. Didn't write. He just looked at me.
His gaze wasn't conflicted anymore.
It was decided. Unstoppable.
I parted my lips slightly, whispering:
"We have to go… to class."
He grabbed his phone again. The words came fast, shaky.
"Enough. I'm tired."
Then he stepped toward me. In a heartbeat — no hesitation — he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me.
There was no tenderness. Not at first.
It was hunger.
A scream held too long that finally found its voice on my lips.
He stole my breath, my heart, my skin.
I trembled, every cell in me responding as if it had been waiting for this all along.
His hands trembled as they slid from my cheeks to my shoulders — touching me like he needed proof I was real.
I stayed still for only a second, then kissed him back with the same fire.
The pain, the anger, the love that never died… everything poured into that kiss.
We breathed in gasps, broken only by the sweet violence of need.
His chest against mine, his forehead resting against mine the moment we paused.
His eyes… were feverish.
I closed mine, placing a hand on his chest.
His heartbeat was wild. Like mine.
"You hurt me, Toge…" I whispered, voice cracking, fingers still trembling. "…but I never stopped wanting you."
He looked at me. He continued, without answering, without saying anything. His eyes shone with pleasure, every time I touched him, he shivered and trembled, seeking my face, my cheeks, my skin... he kissed me everywhere, that evening. Our breaths mingled, our fingers intertwined. I wanted him, I wanted him inside me. With one hand he grabbed my hip and slid me onto his body, rubbing himself against me. I felt him rock hard.
My panties were soaked, almost uncomfortable. I took courage, wanting to vent all the pain of those days, so I pushed him onto the bed. He sat down. He looked at me with a sweetness I'd never seen before, with his hair so disheveled. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving. He was sexy. He was sexy as hell. I knelt down and timidly grabbed the waistband of his pants.
I didn't want to be too delicate, nor to be treated delicately. I was starting to sweat, and in the meantime he raised his hips slightly to help me pull down his pants more easily, all the while smiling at me with his eyes. I also grabbed the waistband of his boxers... I gently slid the clothes to the floor. He was rock hard and incredibly excited; I could see him throbbing. Without hesitation, I grabbed him with one hand, gently placed my lips on the tip, and began to kiss him, softly.
He moaned, his hips moving slightly toward me, his breathing shaky. I opened my mouth and wrapped myself around him, starting a slow dance, trying to make him enjoy it as much as possible.
With one hand, he reached for my head, brushing my hair, trembling. Then, with an almost unreal sweetness, he placed his palm on the back of my neck. He gently guided me toward him, not impatiently, but not too gently either. With all his desire, his chest was about to explode; I could see it swell every time I went down, all the way to my throat.
He seemed to be begging me. My movements were slow, but it grew louder as his breathing increased. His moans were more intense than the first time; that night I could hear them clearly.
Shorts, sweets.
At a certain point, I felt him tremble beneath me, much more. I continued to go further and further down, until I saw him throw his head back and clutch the sheets with one hand. With the other, however, my hair, as if trying not to lose the only thing still keeping him tethered to reality: me.
It ended up in my mouth, and without thinking twice, I looked at it and swallowed it all. It had a very particular flavor, very sweet and thick. When I did, his eyes widened, filled with pleasure but at the same time surprised to see how dirty I was at that moment.
He grabbed me by the arm, pulled me up, and led me to the bathroom mirror. I rested my hands on the sink, and he stood behind me. With one hand, he gently pushed me in the back:
"Bend over."
An incredible force made me bend forward, I couldn't quite understand what was happening... most likely he had used his cursed tongue. When, suddenly, I felt him enter me, all the way. Hard, hot, and full of love. Without restraint, he hit me violently, hard, almost painfully. My juices were on my thighs, I was so excited, his hands were on my breasts, his mouth on my neck. I could see him and his gaze in the mirror.
Messy hair, flushed face, that sexy tattoo, his panting as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure... I moaned loudly, almost ready. He put his hand over my mouth, thrusting harder and harder. Finally, I trembled, releasing all the pain of those days without him. I was out of breath... he slowly slowed down, continuing to kiss my neck and bury himself in my hair. He pulled out, pushing me around to face him.
He raised a hand and gently brushed my hair from my eyes. He kissed my nose, then my mouth.
I hugged him tightly.