Paper notes - itafushi

じゅういち

In the evening, yuji found himself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts as he reminisced about the day he spent with Fushiguro, the class president. Sitting alone in his room, he couldn't shake off the vivid memories that flooded his mind.

He remembered the serene atmosphere of the dog park, where Fushiguro sat cross-legged on the grass, his usually stoic demeanor melting away as he played with Takeo, Itadori's faithful companion. Itadori couldn't help but admire the way Fushiguro interacted with the dog, a side of him he had never seen before.

As he stared out the window, the image of Fushiguro's soft smile lingered in his mind, filling him with warmth. Despite Fushiguro's initial reservations, Itadori couldn't help but feel drawn to him, captivated by his strength and kindness.

The memory of their impromptu ice cream outing brought a smile to Itadori's face. He remembered the excitement in Fushiguro's eyes as they entered the quaint little shop, the way his laughter echoed in the warm summer air.

As they sat on the bench, enjoying their sweet treats and each other's company, Itadori couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. He cherished the simple moments they shared, the laughter and conversation flowing effortlessly between them.

But amidst the fond memories, Itadori couldn't ignore the lingering doubt in his heart. He knew that Fushiguro wasn't fond of him, that their interactions were often strained and distant. Yet, despite the odds, Itadori couldn't help but hold onto the hope that one day, Fushiguro would see him in a different light.

As Itadori reflected on that day with Megumi, his thoughts veered towards a different aspect of the class president's presence - his appearance. Itadori couldn't help but admire the way Fushiguro carried himself, his tall stature exuding an air of quiet confidence.

But it wasn't just Fushiguro's stature that caught Itadori's attention; it was the smaller details that made him stand out. His dark brunette hair, sleek and perfectly styled, seemed to frame his face in a way that was both striking and elegant. Itadori found himself mesmerized by the way the sunlight caught the strands, creating a subtle sheen that accentuated Fushiguro's features.

Itadori couldn't deny the pang of envy that surged within him as he thought about Fushiguro's hair. His own unruly locks paled in comparison, often falling into disarray no matter how much he tried to tame them. Yet, despite his own insecurities, Itadori couldn't help but admire the effortless grace with which Fushiguro carried himself.

Lost in his admiration, Itadori couldn't help but let his mind wander to a place where reality blurred with fantasy. He imagined reaching out, his fingertips grazing the silky strands of Fushiguro's hair, feeling the gentle texture beneath his touch. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn't quite explain.

But as quickly as the fantasy took hold, Itadori pushed it aside, reminding himself of the harsh truth. He knew that Fushiguro was not fond of him, that their relationship existed on shaky ground at best. To indulge in such fantasies would only lead to heartache, a reality Itadori wasn't quite ready to face.

Instead, he forced himself to focus on the present moment, on the memories they had shared and the connection they had forged, however fleeting it may be. Itadori knew that he couldn't change the way Fushiguro felt about him, but he refused to let that dampen his admiration or his hope for the future.

With a sigh, Itadori opened his eyes, banishing the lingering fantasies to the recesses of his mind. Instead, he chose to focus on the memories they shared, cherishing each moment they spent together. And as he closed his eyes, the image of Fushiguro's sleek hair and captivating presence lingered in his mind, a reminder of the day that had captured his heart in more ways than one.