Itadori Yuji,
The name that carves itself into my every waking thought. She’s the sun and my life revolves around her. She’s my everything—her courage, her boundless kindness, her voice that feels like a promise. Her eyes hold galaxies I can’t stop getting lost in, her lips a temptation I’ll never dare to reach for. Every glance she gives me shatters and rebuilds me.
But here’s the tragedy: I don’t think she sees me the way I see her. Kugisaki says it’s casual, the teasing, the laughter, the glances that set me aflame. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m just fooling myself, misreading moments that only exist in my heart. Oh Itadori, you confuse me.
I’ve played it out in my mind a thousand times. Confessing. How it might feel to say the words, how it will likely feel to see her look at me with pity, confusion, or something worse, disgust. But silence is its own kind of torment. If I never say it, I’ll always wonder, always regret. Either way I’m going to regret something.
Today is the day. It has to be. I’ll speak, or I’ll let the words rot inside me. Either way, I lose.
I was lost in my thoughts, thinking of every bad possibility that could happen if I confess when her voice suddenly shattered my thoughts.
“HEYYYY Megs! You okay? You’re like, zoned out, or daydreaming, or something like that!” Her laugh was sunshine. It startled me, left me struggling to find the correct words that wouldn’t come.
“Oh, uh, I’m alright. Just tired,” I stammered, every syllable flat and lifeless. God, why can’t I do better?
Her smile faltered, replaced by worry. “Did I disturb you? Oh, I am so, so sorry! I can go!”
And like a fool, I said, “Yeah.”
What the hell is wrong with me? I didn’t want her to go—I wanted her to stay, to sit beside me, to laugh, to fill the empty spaces I didn’t know how to fill on my own. I wanted to reach out, to hold her hand, to feel the warmth of her against the coldness inside me. Feel her lips against mine, the taste the cherry lipstick she always puts on. But all I did was push her away.
“Oh… okay, that’s okay. Bye, Megs,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something I didn’t want to name.
I watched her walk away, her steps light but her shoulders heavy. I couldn’t move, couldn’t call her back, couldn’t undo the weight of my silence. The word “bye” echoed in my mind, a cruel word I couldn’t stand.
In my backpack that laid open by my seat, a box of chocolates and a note sat waiting for a moment that would never come. I stared at them, useless tokens of a courage I didn’t have.
Maybe this is how it’s meant to be. She deserves someone better, someone who can match her light without being swallowed by it. Someone who won’t stumble over words, who won’t let fear paralyze them. Someone who wasn’t a walking cloud of depression and pessimism. I’ve hurt her before, I hurt her now, it’s bound to happen again. Why can’t I change?
I leaned back on the bench, staring at the empty sky. Megumi Fushiguro, the girl too scared to reach for what she wanted, thinking she is undeserving, the girl who writes tragedies in her head and calls them love stories.
The girl who was never meant to have a happy ending.
That was my curse.