10:37 a.m.
The light was slowly filtering in through the classroom windows, but Aiko really didn't want to be at school that day. She tapped her fingernail lightly on the edge of her notebook, apparently concentrating on the teacher's words. But her gaze would slip every few seconds to the phone hidden between her legs, tilted just enough to read without being caught.
A short vibration. A message.
Yuji: They're making me meditate in front of a candle. If I concentrate for another minute, I'll turn into a sesame oil commercial.
She looked down, pressing her lips together slightly to keep from laughing. Her heart did the same thing—not a flutter, more of a gentle curve.
Aiko: Stayfocus. You must become a great sorcerer, not a spiritual influencer.
Yuji: I just want to be the boyfriend of the best waitress in Japan.
She smiled. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear just to not look too happy. But she was.
Then it vibrated again.
Yuji: I can still see you moving on top of me. Is it serious?
Aiko bit her cheek, lowering her face to her notebook.
Aiko: Very serious. But if you make it up tonight, I might consider it too.
Yuji: You're a monster. I love you to death.
She remained for a few seconds with the screen lit between her fingers, the words frozen before her eyes. And then she answered softly, as if she were walking on something fragile.
Aiko: Strange way of saying you miss me.
Yuji: I've missed you since you closed the door behind you yesterday. I miss you on my neck, between my teeth. I miss you in my fingers. Even in my hair. Do something.
Her heart tightened like a tight sweater. It was absurd how much she could miss someone who knew every corner of her silence.
Aiko: I'm in the third row. If I do anything, they'll catch me. But you know, I smile like an idiot.
Yuji: So I won the morning.
Aiko: Will you come pick me up after class?
This time the message didn't arrive immediately. She waited, almost holding her breath.
Yuji: I can't. I have a mission with Megumi. We leave right after lunch. Quick stuff, I hope. But I'll be back tonight. As soon as I can, I promise.
Aiko: Be careful, okay?
Yuji: Always. Think of me at least once today. But not during algebra. I know you're copying from Erika.
Aiko: It's geometry, you idiot.
After a minute, a photo arrived: Yuji's wrist, bandaged as always, with a crooked heart drawn on it in pen. Inside, the word "you."
Aiko: You're my favorite idiot.
She sighed and hid her phone in her backpack. The teacher was still talking, but she couldn't hear much anymore. She felt like she had Yuji in her hands, in her palm, warm as tea steam.
And somewhere, in a much less silent classroom, Yuji was pretending to meditate. But in his mind there was only her. Her and the scent left on her pillow.
That mission had to end quickly. If only to see her again. If only to hug her in her sleep.
***
The message arrived at 1:42 PM, just as Aiko was turning off the faucet after washing the dishes for lunch. The phone vibrated on the kitchen counter with a double notification: first Yuji's name, then the preview of the image.
It was a poorly taken photo. Like all Yuji photos.
There he was, making the victory sign with an overly cheerful face, while Megumi stood in the background, arms folded, with an "I wish I were anywhere but here" expression.
Above, the caption written in capslock:
Yuji: YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO MAKES THIS ANTISOCIAL POPSICLE BEARABLE FOR ME.
Aiko smiled, leaning her back against the wall.
Aiko: Tell him you're lucky I love you, otherwise I'd have helped him throw you off a roof.
No response.
She looked at the photo again, zooming in on Megumi's furrowed brows. It was amazing how childish Yuji could be with everyone except her. Or maybe it was with her that he became even more stupid.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. No "we're leaving," no "I'll talk to you later."
Gone.
Aiko slipped her phone into her pocket and rolled up her sleeves.
"Okay," she said to herself. "The afternoon is all mine "
She began by organizing the pantry. It was a tedious task, but it made her feel at peace with the world. She rearranged the rice, the seaweed, the spaghetti, and then checked the expiration dates on every jar. As she did so, she hummed a song she didn't even know the name of. One of those that played on the restaurant radio while her father fiddled with the pots and pans.
At 3:30 PM, she took a break. She opened the refrigerator and made a glass of iced green tea with lemon and honey. She sat on the stool next to the counter and stared out the window. A flock of noisy crows was squabbling on a nearby rooftop.
She checked her phone.
Still no messages.
Once she had finished everything, she put on her shoes and went for a walk. Worn-out sneakers, shoulder bag, the air still warm but not muggy. She walked through streets she knew by heart, but which seemed emptier that day. Every now and then, she greeted a regular at the restaurant. A woman asked her if the "handsome waiter" (i.e., Kazuma) was there that evening. She laughed and said she'd check it.
Aiko returned home towards evening. That evening she had the day off from the restaurant, so she took a quick shower then went to her room in her pajamas, her hair still damp around her shoulders and turned on the fan. She was about to start reading a manga when she looked at her phone again.
Still nothing.
For a second, she felt something tighten in her stomach. It wasn't fear. It was that subtle feeling when someone is always there and then suddenly disappears for a few hours. And even though you know why—even though you know he's on a mission, that he's Yuji, that he always comes back—you still miss him.
She stroked the pillow, throwing herself backward onto the futon.
"Come back soon, Itadori. Or I'll eat all the ice cream."
***
Late afternoon, wooded area outside Sendai — Mission in progress.
Yuji's every step sank slightly into the uneven carpet of undergrowth and his red shoes left dark prints among the patches of moss. Beside him, Megumi walked in silence, his breathing regular, his eyes attentive to every bend in the trail.
"It should be nearby," Megumi said softly, checking his phone which acted as a cursed energy monitor. "Medium level. But persistent."
"So no Sukuna," Yuji replied with a crooked half-smile. "Good. I have other things on my mind."
Megumi didn't ask. But he raised an eyebrow.
Yuji meanwhile was checking the perimeter, his fist already clenched, ready. But deep in his chest, even with the adrenaline pumping, it was Aiko who was taking up space.
He imagined her among the trees. Not as a ghostly vision, but as a concrete, carnal fantasy. Her hair loose, the way she laughed with her chin tilted back. The way she sat on top of him when she was impatient. Her hips, soft and confident, moving without hesitation. He thought of that night, when she'd simply said "Shut up, let me do it." And he hadn't asked for anything else.
He desired her with all the sweet anger of someone who loves too much. And as he searched for traces of the curse, every log seemed like a place where they might do it, secretly.
"Sooner or later I'll bring her here…I want to do it here." He thought and a small bulge began to move inside his pants. Every shady corner could be a place where she could pull him close, sit on top of him and move until he cums inside her.
"As soon as I finish, I want her all over me... "
He reached for his phone and texted her something. Just a "I miss you." But the network was gone. No signal. The message cursor remained there, blinking, with no way to send it.
"The signal is awful too," he snorted to himself.
"Did you say something?" Megumi asked.
"No. I'm just... motivating myself."
A noise. A rustling sound too distinct to be wind.
Megumi immediately activated two minor shikigami. Two dark shapes emerged from the grass: human but distorted, with wide mouths and fingers that seemed to extend into tentacles. Second-level curses, perhaps awakened by some forgotten object in the woods. A classic scenario.
Yuji wasted no time. He leaped forward and struck with a low hook that sent one of the curses flying against a tree trunk. Megumi handled the other with crisp elegance, using his shadows like thin blades.
"They're not strong," Yuji said, wiping sweat with his forearm. "But they're annoying."
The second curse tried to strike him blindly, but he preempted it with a punch charged with energy. The impact sounded dull, like a wet drum. It dissolved into a dark mist.
Megumi approached. "We should clear the area. There will be more."
Yuji nodded, but meanwhile he was still checking his phone. No signal.
He thought about recording a voice message, just in case, for when the camp returned. But then he stopped it. He didn't want Aiko to hear the tiredness in his voice, he didn't want to worry her.
The mission wasn't over. The mission wasn't over but he wanted to go back to her. Just to hear her laugh again. Or maybe he didn't say anything and just fell down beside her. Like he always did.
11:07 PM – Aiko's apartment.
The television was on, playing some program. The curtains were half-closed. Aiko had been sitting cross-legged on the couch, her loose sweatshirt on, her phone in her hand for at least half an hour. She'd tried studying, reading, even emptying the dishwasher but nothing could completely distract her.
Yuji hadn't written in hours. She knew the missions could be long, but... that feeling tightened her chest, subtle and constant.
A twinge of anxiety. A drop of longing.
Then the phone rang.
She almost jumped to her feet. Aiko answered before the first ring even finished.
"Yuji?!"
"I'm alive, I swear." His voice was hoarse, low, thick with tiredness. "Sorry...I'm late."
"Where are you?"
A brief pause. Then, with that tenderness so unique to him:
"Get out of your house. Do you want to sleep at my place tonight? I... I don't feel like just saying 'hello' on the phone."
Aiko closed her eyes for a second, then sighed.
"Wait a minute. I'm putting on my shoes."
When she reached him, Yuji was leaning against the lamppost next to the gate, his backpack still on his shoulder and his sweatshirt pulled up to his hands. His eyes seemed darker than usual, sunken with tiredness, but full of love.
"Hey" she said, bowing her chin slightly. "Are you okay?"
Yuji smiled at her—that smile that was just for her, the crooked kind one.
"Megumi was punched in the neck by an armless curse, I lost my phone in the mud, but I'm fine now."
She descended the steps in silence, approached him. Words were unnecessary.
Yuji hugged her gently, dropping his backpack to the floor. His hands closed on her shoulders, on the subtle warmth of her back under her sweatshirt. They held each other a little, as if to make sure they were both still there.
"Were you worried?" he whispered against her hair.
"Yes. But it passed as soon as you touched me like that."
Yuji laughed softly. Then, without breaking the embrace:
"Let's go to my place. I want to fall asleep with my nose against your shoulder."
She nodded against his chest.
"And I want to see how long you can last before you snore."
"I don't sn..."
"Yuji. You snore."
They walked down the quiet path to the dormitory. He held her hand the entire time, his fingers intertwined with hers, occasionally casting her a look that felt like 'I'm at home'.
When they arrived, the night was silent. The rest of the dormitory was asleep. Yuji opened the door for her softly, as one does with precious things.
Inside, the scent of incense still lingered. The bed was unmade, but soft. The look he gave her—tired, hungry for peace—said only one thing. Aiko took a step inside, then another, slowly. The carpet under her feet muffled every sound, but Yuji could hear her. He could feel her on him.
Aiko stared at him. For a moment. For two.
Then she took off her jacket with a simple, decisive gesture. Her fingers undid the top button of her shirt and Yuji swallowed slowly, without looking away. There was no rush, no anxiety. Just intention. Silent, yet powerful.
"Aiko..." he murmured, his voice so low it almost sounded like breathing.
She nodded. Her lips were soft, but tense. Her eyes never left his.
Yuji approached as one does with something you love and fear you might ruin. His hands closed on her shoulders, slowly, lightly, as if to assure himself she was real. He looked at her as if trying to remember her exactly like this—skin and light, breath and controlled fire.
Aiko's fingers snaked up under the hem of his shirt, and when she removed it, she did so carefully, as if the gesture were sacred. Their bodies barely touched, but it was enough to ignite every nerve...