Your first thought is that Megumi's ratted you out once again.
Your second thought is that you're going to commit fratricide.
And you will. Once you manage to regain some semblance of strength, that is. Your flight from school has left you drained and exhausted, and you're definitely feeling weak and ill from all that running. As it stands, you can't do much more than glare pitifully at Megumi, who enters with a bouquet of white lilies. He very pointedly avoids looking at you, and bustles into the ensuite bathroom in search of a vase. Your next pitiful glare is directed at Gojo, who flounces in as though he owns the place (which he technically does).
Running's out of the question. You'll never be able to outrun Gojo, not with the exhaustion weighing you down, and you're fairly sure that you won't be going anywhere without your ━
"Painkillers?" Is all you manage to say, before taking the proffered bag from Yuta in a stunned silence. Your usual medicines have been collected from your nightstand and neatly tucked away, into a floral purse no less. "Why did you ━"
"I know you don't like using your Cursed Technique to heal yourself," Yuta says slowly, haltingly. "So I thought you might want these . . ." He breaks off and gestures at the bag.
A bittersweet tenderness pierces you then. He's noticed. And more than that, he cares. Had he asked Gojo and Megumi which bottles to pack? Or has he been observing you enough that he's become familiar with your habits? A wave of heat rushes to your cheeks, and you press a hand to the soft skin there, mortified. "Thank you."
Yuta, at least, is nice enough to wait until you've emptied the shiny capsules onto the palm of your hand. Three for pain relief, one muscle relaxant, two anti inflammatory . . . But you know that you can't feign sickness for long, or delay the inevitable by pretending to fumble with your pills. Not with how Megumi and Gojo both seem to be looking at you expectantly, waiting for something, anything to happen.
"[NAME], can we talk?" Yuta asks, pleading but fierce. He can't quite meet your eyes. You can feel his uncertainty, see his hands shaking, and you realise how much this is costing him. "Please?"
Likewise, your own gaze is fixed upon the floor. As much as you want to spend the rest of your life avoiding the pesky topic of your own feelings and that cursed security footage, you know that you can't do that to Yuta. He's much too kind and decent to be treated in that manner. And besides, you know you owe him an explanation. Maybe it's better to rip of the bandaid ━ to keep things fast and brief and as painless as you can possibly can, so that neither of you will have to suffer for long.
"Let's talk somewhere else." You say, once you've forced yourself to swallow the pills, down your throat and past the tense sickness held in your gut. "So that we won't be interrupted."
Megumi, for his part, looks insulted that you would accuse him of attempting to eavesdrop. You can't help but think it's a bit late for that, considering how it's his fault you're in this mess in the first place. "I'm staying here."
"I'll be ━ Ow!" Gojo's voice screeches out high alarm as an elbow digs painfully into his side. You look at Megumi, considering. Maybe you won't kill him for ratting you out after all. "What was that for, Megumi?!"
Megumi levels Gojo with an impressive glare. "You're staying here too."
"Oh, yeah, yeah. I'll be staying here, too." Deliberately, Gojo lowers his voice to a whisper. "But lemme know what happens later."
Fat chance.
Pointedly ignoring Gojo, you manage to push to your feet and head for the door. Your steps are unsteady, and you have to walk slowly, your body weighted down by exhaustion. Ah, well. At least you're already in a hospital. You're sure Tsumiki won't mind sharing her suite. "Tsumiki, this is Yuta. I told you about him earlier. And I'm sure that you're very familiar with our snitch of a brother and our meddlesome father."
"[NAME], that really hurt me!"
". . ."
You don't bother with a retort. You wonder if it's fear or exhaustion keeping itself lodged in your throat and preventing you from speaking. Probably both. You manage to walk out of Tsumiki's room and into the lift with Yuta, that horrible, hopeless feeling following you like a second shadow. For a while, you keep yourself busy by pressing the button on the elevator, listening to it descend the hospital. Your stomach feels light as the floors fly past, one gone, then ten.
When the doors open to the lush indoor garden, thankfully devoid of visitors as visiting hours draw to a close. Yuta is thankfully silent as you lead him over to a wooden swing, breathing an audible sigh of relief when you're relieved from the pressure of standing. The two of you sit for a while, not touching, rocking slightly and staring at the vivid pink camellia blossoms.
It's Yuta who breaks the silence first, and you scramble to keep the panic from colouring your face. "Um. That girl there, she was . . ."
"She's my sister. She was Cursed, and I couldn't do a damn thing to help her." The grief of Tsumiki's loss is so sudden that your next breath sounds almost like a sob; you have to force the tears back down your throat, past the lump that's forming there. You have to take a few breaths to recompose yourself, but your voice is still miraculously strong when you next speak. "But that's not what you want to ask me, is it?"
"No."
"No. Then what do you really want to ask me?"
"Um. I saw the footage." Is all Yuta says. Try as you might, you can't detect any hint of displeasure in his voice, but you don't trust it. "Is what you said true?"
"I'm sorry." You say, your insides feeling hollow and cold. So this is how a friendship ends, you think, and your body feels heavier than ever before. Your hands tremble. "I'm really sorry."
You're intimately familiar with the concept of loss, but still, you can't help but wonder if this loss will be the one which finally kills you. The absence of Yuta will leave so much space in your life, and you've already gotten a small taste of that expansive, hollow feeling which seems impossible to fill with anything else.
The realization makes the tears spring to your eyes almost immediately. But you stare at the silken petals of a nearby flower, trying to will them away. Your voice is thin with nerves. "What I said on the footage, to Geto Suguru . . . All of it was ━ is ━ true. But it's okay, you don't have to say or do anything. We can just pretend that none of it ever happened, and we can just stay friends. But if you'd rather not be friends, that's ━ That's fine too."
"[NAME]." Yuta's voice is gentle, but still you don't look up, bracing yourself for the inevitable rejection. The small space between your bodies feels so much further now. "I loved Rika for a very long time. She was the most important thing in my life, and for a long while, it felt like . . . She was all I had. After she died, I didn't think I would like anyone again. But then I came to Jujutsu High. I met reliable teachers, and I made friends. And I, I met you."
Now you look up, your eyes wide. The tentative feeling of hope is flooding through your veins, but it's a dim possibility, and one you don't dare to cling to. The soft skin of Yuta's face is stained a bright, potent shade of red.
"I met you. And, you're ━ You've become important to me, too. So, um. Could you please give me some time, and wait for me? Because I really like you, and I want to be with you."
The words wrench a loud, heaving sob from your chest, one you can't control. You can hear Yuta's panicked exclamation, see his hands moving frantically as he tries to stem your tears, but in the end, all you manage to choke out is, "I really like you too."
