Yuuji's day starts as his days normally do.
His alarm goes off at 8, like it has since he started high school and decided he only needs half an hour to wake up and get to school. Yawning, he sits up and runs his hands through his hair before setting a timer for 30 mins. He ignores his notifications apart from one – sending Megumi his daily morning selfie in response to his boyfriend's text.
Meg [06:32]: You're still coming to play tonight, right?
The smell of fried fish is already dancing through the apartment, along with the godawful J-Pop music Choso's recently gotten into. Stomach growling, he throws his uniform on as quickly as possible, yanking his socks over his feet as he slides into the kitchen. "Thanks," he says to Choso, switching between shovelling his breakfast into his mouth and collecting his assorted belongings that always manage to end up strewn around the living room, no matter how hard he tries to stay organised.
"Did you even wash yourself?" Choso asks, face twisted into a frown. Now that Yuuji knows his brother's half curse, he can't help but wish Choso was a little bit more cursey. Less big brother asking about his showering habits, and more awesome fantasy character come to life. Every time he brings it up, Megumi is very defensive about Choso being a psychotic, murderous Curse who borderlines on villany. But Yuuji doesn't see even a scrap of that in Choso – especially not with him stood in the kitchen with his hair scraped back with a pink clip, and a matching apron tied around his waist, dusted with flour handprints.
"I shower in the evenings, nii-chan," Yuuji reminds him as he pulls on his blazer.
"I don't think that's adequate," Choso shrugs, but doesn't say anything else on the matter, checking the fancy watch on his wrist with a frown. Yuuji's pretty sure Gojo bought it for Choso, sick and tired of the guy never showing up to their meetings on time, always sidetracked by a new 21st century invention he falls in love with. "You're going to be late for school."
"Nah," Yuuji shrugs, voice muffled through his bites of rice. "Still got three minutes," he adds, checking his phone. "See you later!" he calls over his shoulder as he makes for the bathroom, brushing his teeth and splashing his face before he meets his own eyes in the mirror. Full morning routine finished and with a whole extra minute to spare. He fist bumps his own reflection before he checks his phone, grinning at the memes his friends have sent him, and taking mental notes of the basketball games and dinner plans he's been invited to.
Megumi's already responded to him, because as much as his boyfriend doesn't give a shit about social media or keeping online to understand Nobara's references, he does always seem to have his phone nearby, if his response time is anything to go by. It makes Yuuji grin inexplicably wide, cheeks almost hurting as he stares at Megumi's contact photo. It's a picture Yuuji secretly took on Megumi's phone, when they were hanging out with the rest of his classmates. He can't even remember what they were doing although there's not that many things it could've been - a card game (Hakari was super serious about getting everyone into a Poker tournament); projecting Nobara's TikTok onto the stupidly big TV and scrolling as a group; facetiming Yuuta (the third year abroad and the only student apart from Megumi who seems halfway normal) or eating dinner. Yuuji's pretty sure it was the last one, because Megumi's smiling softly at someone else in the photo, head in his hand and looking…looking like everything Yuuji's ever wanted.
Meg [08:06]: Selfies don't constitute a response to a genuine question dumbass
But Yuuji would bet all the ¥7,000 in his bank that Megumi's saved his selfie to his phone. Biting the inside of his cheek, he tries to figure out a response. Because he wants to go to Jujutsu Tech tonight, always would rather be at Jujutsu Tech because that's where Megumi is. But he's sort of currently avoiding Megumi to the best of his abilities. It's kind of hard to avoid the one person you want to be around constantly. It would be hard for the planet to not orbit the sun, and hard for the moon to ignore the seas and hard for the trees to severe their roots. It's harder to ignore one of Megumi's texts.
He responds up with another selfie, but holding a thumbs up this time, which he figures is a good enough response.
The last notification on his phone goes unanswered as he pockets his phone with a wince as the timer goes off. Every morning, he wakes up in the hopes that it won't have happened, and every morning he wakes up to a new text from Gojo Satoru. This is a new development – a kind of unwelcome addition to his routine.
Now, he wouldn't mind if he was receiving normal texts from Gojo. Although he doesn't know how normal it is for his boyfriend's pseudo-father/teacher to be texting him at all. But then again, normality isn't really a word he'd use to describe Megumi or any of the people who surround him, so Yuuji isn't even that put off by it. What he is put off by is the content of the texts themselves. But he thinks his plan of steadfastly ignoring them is working pretty well. Yeah, it might be seeping into him ending up seeing less of Megumi than he'd like to, but he's working on begging his boyfriend to come hang out at his place, or somewhere in public (since Megumi has banned Gojo from interacting with them anywhere that isn't Jujutsu Tech).
"See ya, Choso!" he calls out as he shoves his feet into his trainers, swinging his bag over his shoulder before he's practically falling out of the front door, ready to greet Iguchi. However, the person standing outside his home is not Iguchi.
"Yuuji-kun," Gojo smiles widely, straightening up like a cat from where he's leaning against the railings.
"Gojo-san?" Yuuji winces, glancing over his shoulder as he contemplates running back inside and begging Choso to get rid of the eldritch God that is his boyfriend's father that also happens to be borderline harassing him.
"Morning," the man grins, hands coming from his pockets to wave at him. "'Was just in your neighbourhood and thought I'd pop in to say hi," he shrugs, awful at pretending to be casual.
"You were in the neighbourhood," Yuuji deadpans, pointedly looking around the apartment block he lives in, and the further neighbourhood, which consists exclusively of other apartment blocks.
"Yes," Gojo nods, either totally oblivious to his lack of persuasion, or not giving a fuck. Yuuji really can't tell which it is. "In the neighbourhood." He moves forward as he speaks, and Yuuji frowns until Gojo's hand slips into his blazer pocket, smile unfurling into a smirk on his face as he pulls out his phone. "Ah," Gojo murmurs. "So, you do have a phone. And it is working."
"Gojo-san," Yuuji sighs, running a tired hand down his face. "I'm going to be late for school."
"For school," Gojo repeats with a soft hum, as if the idea is laughable. "Yuuji-kun, what is it gonna take for you to talk to me?"
"No offense, Gojo-san, I just don't understand how I could possibly enrol in Jujutsu Tech," he shrugs before he reaches up to easily snatch his phone back from Gojo. "I don't think this is how the education system works." The man follows after him as he starts down the balcony, praying that Iguchi is late today and will find his own way to school without Yuuji.
"Who's gonna stop me?" Gojo laughs for real this time, and Yuuji can't help but notice how similar it is to Megumi's. A pang of guilt hits him all over again and he wavers in his steps. "Yuuji-kun, you could easily be one of the strongest sorcerers that this country has ever seen, alright?" Gojo says as they walk down the stairs together, a burst of energy as he rambles, Yuuji silent as he listens. Gojo takes the stairs two at a time, bouncing on his feet as Yuuji tries to keep after him.
He wonders if this is what his entire life is going to be like now. Because he's already decided Megumi is the rest of his life – thinks he's known this from the very first time Megumi kissed him. Maybe from the very first time he even saw him. But he doesn't want to always be a step behind everyone else he's found himself orbiting.
"I'm not even a sorcerer," Yuuji says on an exhale, frowning when he sees Gojo hesitate slightly at that. "What?" he questions, but as they leave the apartment building, heavy doors heaving shut behind them, Gojo's voice blows away with the wind. Yuuji stands, gripping his backpack straps and watches as a lumbering creature crawls across the sidewalk. It's trailing after a woman who's pushing a pram, a toddler giggling and padding along beside her. The child is blabbering about something, little hands clutching onto the woman's jeans. She walks silently, eyes glassy and faraway. The monster screams, a mass of greying, mottling skin. Too many teeth protrude from its mouth, yellowing and rotting. Its screams are in a language Yuuji doesn't even recognise, doesn't want to recognise. Ears twinging, he can't help but recoil away in horror. Except, he doesn't recoil at all. When he looks down, he sees that he's stepped forward towards the woman and child, towards the monster attempting to chase after them.
A strong hand falls gently onto his shoulder, and Yuuji looks up to find Gojo beside him, also watching the creature. The man raises his other hand and clicks his finger, and in an instant, the creature is imploding in on itself in a burst of red light, like a car light being smashed out. Yuuji lets out a breathless laugh when he sees the mother blink, her shoulders rolling out. She pauses in her steps, skirt billowing around her legs, before she reaches down and catches the kid under his arms. Squealing happily, the kid snuggles in closer as she places him on her hip, before continuing on their way.
"You killed the monster."
"The curse," Gojo corrects, nodding as his hand squeezes Yuuji's shoulder. "They're called curses. And I know you want to help stop them, Yuuji. I'm telling you now that you can."
"But I'm not a sorcerer," Yuuji says again, Gojo's lips quirking into a tight line. His hand falls from Yuuji's shoulder to gesture through the air.
"You're not, not a sorcerer. Look Yuuji-kun, I can explain everything to you when you're enrolled. I just need an answer."
"I-" His phone vibrates in his pocket, and Yuuji tears his eyes away from Gojo back to the mess on the sidewalk. Stark against the lovely blue sky, so bright against the biting cold. Brutal against the narrow waterway that runs along the road, mist rising from its surface and avoiding the muddle of violet gore and thick sinew. The crows on the telephone wires above seem to stare at it, silent and still.
"I need to talk to Megumi first. Before I decide on anything, before I even talk about this with you more," Yuuji says, plastering a smile on his face that he hopes is optimistic. Judging by the grimace on Gojo's face, he guesses it's not that convincing. "I won't lie to him."
"I'm not asking you to," Gojo shrugs, jaw clenched, clearly preferring the option that is Yuuji lying to Megumi. "I just don't think it's any of his business. Not right now."
"It is," Yuuji says firmly. "I won't keep it from him. What's mine is his. I know you say I could be the strongest, but I'm not strong without him."
Gojo doesn't speak for a moment, attention seemingly elsewhere, but he nods all the same. "Alright," he says, and he laughs again, but it sounds strained. "Talk to Gumi-chan about it first. Your funeral, kid."
"He'll understand," Yuuji argues. "He's…Megumi's good," he shrugs. "He just doesn't really believe in himself yet. In his own goodness. But he'll understand where I'm coming from. He'll understand that I want to help."
"What I'm asking, what I'm offering…it's a risk, kid. Sukuna isn't like Choso. He's the real deal. You gotta understand that too."
"Everything worth doing is always a risk," Yuuji smiles. "Besides, you said in your texts that it could help Megumi, right? It might help wake up Tsumiki?"
"I'm hoping so," Gojo nods, working his bottom lip through his teeth. "Tengen, I'm really hoping so."
"Alright then," Yuuji breathes out. "So, I'll talk to Megumi."
"So, you'll talk to Megumi."