Archive of Our Own

She'd made up her mind in the spur of a moment -packed her things and drove across the country when she'd read the approval letter from her new boss. The offer itself was printed in a newspaper, which told her enough about the author's old-fashioned ways. The couple she'll be working for is a wealthy pair that, suspiciously so, has low standards concerning their candidates. Yuji got accepted after a single phone call.

She needed to get away. Her dream job had turned into a nightmare after just one unforgettable incident. Accepting defeat in the face of the inevitable was never her strong suit, and being a firefighter does, unfortunately, entail certain losses. They can't always be there on time, work in perfect coordination among the chaos around them, or save those beyond saving. There is no shortage of things and people to mourn.

Desperation became Yuji's main motive for the sudden lifestyle switch. Her body can't take any more stress. She can't eat or sleep, she's lost her period and feels weaker than she'd like. It's been worse before, but she can't get back on her feet if it goes on like this. A 'change in scenery' isn't a choice anymore -a whim like a SPA day. She'd realized things like that just don't cut it anymore. She won't regain her strength through little doses of self-care between gut-wrenching events.

People's lives depend on her and she won't go back to work till she can say for certain that she can handle the true meaning of those words.

Going on leave only to lounge around at home would've been pointless. Yuji didn't know her next move before the newspaper offer told her exactly what to do. Her first thought revolved around extensive martial arts training, then she was almost sure she wanted to take care of the elderly, maybe volunteer at a nursing home.. but the memories of Wasuke would've resurfaced eventually, and she shouldn't let her emotions get in the way of work. It would've been unprofessional to tear up at any reminder of her grandpa that she'd find in other people.

So babysitting, it is. Satoru's parents called the little boy quiet and well-mannered, didn't ask for a 10+ year experience with kids and, lastly, assured her that she'll be treated like a part of the family while she stays there. She'd have access to every room of the mansion and would be free to do anything her heart desires between tasks, except for bringing men over. They were very strict about that part, explaining it through their son's jealousy.

Yuji was fine with it, Fushiguro was not. He'd gone on leave too, to follow her and be around just in case. He'll be staying in a motel and bringing her groceries as an excuse to check up on her now and then. Kugisaki summarized his worries with an eye roll.

The mansion only ever belonged to the Gojo family; built and passed through generations. Yuji's parents had no properties or heirlooms to gift her, but they did manage to create an impressive debt before they died. The couple is a little older than Yuji imagined. They're in their forties, with a son who's still attending elementary school.

But god, the lady is gorgeous. Itadori can't take her eyes off her dreamy profile. She looks like a dove, yet there's firm confidence beneath the softness.

"You can sleep in a different bedroom every night if you wish. Help yourself to the liquor after tucking him in, I won't tell!" She winks at Yuji. "Satoru is sensitive. Try not to hurt his feelings or he will throw a tantrum. I'd hate to scare you off, darling, I hope you know that. Are you as sweet as you look?"

She's all over the place, walking Yuji through the mansion and talking nonstop. Itadori listens intently, but her focus escapes whenever Satoru's mother places her hand on her waist or shoulder. This beautiful woman loves physical contact and it flusters Yuji undescribably. Her new boss is taller than the average man, especially in heels.

Yuji knows her list of responsibilities already, so full attentiveness isn't crucial here. She's listening to the Greek goddess as best as she can, while her skin prickles and longing sprouts uninvited. Maybe another woman's touch is what she needed to heal this dread. She should've gone to the local gay bar and met someone, even if for one night. Next time.

"You don't have a partner, correct?"

Itadori's eyes pause at the woman's lips. She looks away quickly. "Yes."

"Are you planning a family in the future? Pardon my curiosity."

"I love children, but I don't know anything for sure at the moment."

The chances of finding a good man among the creeps with fetishes for big-chested women are close to zero. She's not one to settle with someone interested only in her body.

The lady takes Yuji to the kitchen. She reminds her of Satoru's favorite meals and the amount of sugar he's allowed to consume daily. "Don't spoil him too much, other than with love, of course. Be good to him and everything should be just fine." She looks Yuji up and down once again, taking in her ear-length, fluffy, pink hair, strong frame, and semi-casual clothes. "He'll adore you."

Yuji's lips form a thankful smile. She did her best to look approachable. "When can I meet him?"

She catches the woman's expression changing as she turns away to lead her to another room. The gentleness fades slightly when unseen by the guest. "I have great hopes regarding your relationship. You can contact me if you need, however, keep in mind that you cannot quit anymore. We treat our employees with respect and expect the same from them."

"I understand."

She really doesn't need to explain the basics. The couple is going on a trip abroad and it'd take them time to find a good replacement if she wanted to leave out of nowhere.

Yuji lays her eyes upon a big, realistic doll sitting by a library table. It's a work of art, not a toy available at any store. It looks custom-ordered because it resembles the woman's characteristics just a bit too much for it to be a coincidence. Yuji throws her an unsure glance. Is it the boy's doll? She's about to compliment it and call it cute, with an additional, mandatory approval of a choice that goes against gender stereotypes, but..

"Satoru, honey, meet Itadori Yuji," the woman introduces the doll to its new babysitter. "I brought the girl that you liked so much. Are you happy?" she coos and pinches the porcelain cheek. "Oh, I bet you are."

Yuji stands still like a mannequin. Disappointment washes over her immediately, as her plans for the near future crumble before her. She can already see herself on the exhausting trip home, oh- not to mention Fushiguro. Kugisaki and her girlfriend will be laughing their asses off when they hear this story, and maybe Yuji will be laughing with them, but now.. Now, she feels like running her hands across her face and groaning in frustration.

It's pouring outside. She mentioned something about her husband waiting for her in the car. Did she lie about him too? This woman is fully immersed in her strange roleplay. She doesn't break character even as silence fills the room. She acts as if he'd responded and turns her head to Yuji. "Come closer. He doesn't bite."

She's too beautiful. Something had to be deeply wrong with her to balance it out.

Yuji's stomach twists nervously and she curses herself for being stupid. She'd already brought her suitcase upstairs and signed the contract. Satoru's mother had practically forced the pen into her hand when she arrived. It's a blessing in disguise for sure. So much money to look after an object? To wipe the dust off a doll, while living in a mansion?

"Nice to meet you, Satoru," she plays along for now. Yuji shakes the doll's hand, to the woman's delight.

Who would've known if she ignored all her responsibilities? One problem- taking advantage of a mentally unwell lady wasn't her goal. Does it make it better if said lady is treating her sorta like an object brought for her son?

"I could tell how kind you were right away. You'll be a good match. The previous babysitters came and went, one by one quit and left Satoru without looking back.. But you're different. You'll treat my son right."

The contract is the bane of Yuji's existence. Well, getting associated with that woman at all. She's too old to fall for things like that.

She'd get in legal trouble if she left the 'child' unsupervised. Oh, the luxury of a stable job. It was giving her nightmares, but she won't escape them tonight either. She'd locked the doors and kept the curtains open before going to bed. The doll is sitting on the same chair where she left it.

Fushiguro doesn't have to know. She'd texted him about arriving safely, plus some basics about the kid. Yuji's brain works overtime to figure out the couple's motives. She thinks about the missing people on the news and the actual murder cases she'd heard about in recent years. It's just not safe to stay here.

She flips on the other side. Would they go this far if they wanted to hurt someone random? They'd left a trace of correspondence behind. Her friends know where she is. She can see only two options -someone else having access to the mansion and waiting for the right moment to attack, or the woman's honest belief of his son's soul being trapped somewhere in that doll. It's not uncommon. Grief-induced psychosis, that is, not demonically possessed dolls.

Maybe there was Satoru Gojo once upon a time. Maybe he was a happy, healthy only-child living in this place, spoiled rotten by his parents. Yuji can imagine him running across those long hallways, sliding down the railings, or even hanging from one, to show his mom a cool trick. Kids injure themselves all the time while playing, but it's important to remember how delicate they are. Their bones break easily, they can endure less than adults. How did Gojo Satoru die?

Yuji recalls the sadness in the woman's blue irises. She doesn't know how to say goodbye to her little boy.

She finds the grave the very next day, while cruising the property grounds. Everyone is running away from something. Pity tugs at Yuji's heartstrings as her eyes sweep across the letters on the polished marble, the angles engraved into it, the flowers laid beneath. She'd like to ask the boy's mother if the same doll that gives her so much comfort can at times rub salt into the wound; if reality dawns on her at the worst moments and playing house suddenly feels silly. And, lastly, if that's why she has to take those trips abroad, despite being so attached to her 'son'.

It's a step forward. With enough strength, she could one day move away for good, sell this cursed place and..-
But what about the boy's grave? Hopefully, they'd cremated him, so she could take the urn with her.

Itadori hates the smell of burning flesh. It's one of the most disgusting things she can think of. The cool, rainy weather helps with the subtle wave of nausea rolling through her body. She heads inside.

The heavy door closes with a thud that echoes through the large hallway. Homesickness drains color from her face. She makes a quick stop as she passes by the library, the sole reason being the creepy doll. From afar, one would think that's a real person sitting on that chair. Yup, still just a toy. It hadn't come alive to kill her like Chucky. The rain is drumming against the windows, wind howls. Yuji plays the first vinyl she can find to drown out the outside sounds.

It's an old love song. She's sitting by the kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands, the blue light of the early morning encompassing everything around her. She'd normally be getting ready for work at this hour, making quick breakfast, washing up and rushing out the door. She wouldn't have the time to think about the time when they'd put out a house fire and heard the survivor repeatedly saying that 'He didn't know.' He didn't leave his daughter to her death. He thought that she'd already escaped through her bedroom window, so he ran to save himself.

Yuji recalls anger. She remembers feeling extremely upset -at herself, at the things people do when they're scared, the blame-shifting, the hopelessness of it. Kugisaki gave her a shoulder to cry on. Fushiguro was there for her too.

Megumi texts her right when she starts thinking about him. He asks if he can come over, though they talked about it before and he agreed to give her space. She has to politely decline.

Decline to do what, instead of meeting her friend? She'd brought her laptop, but she doesn't feel like using it at the moment. Yuji has no other choice but to wake up from this trance and create some routine, if only to prevent herself from going insane. She clicks the light switch and the room gains some charm. No more dark corners and long shadows. It turns into a cute, warm kitchen, that Yuji leaves for a moment to bring the doll with her.

Kids like porridge and Satoru loves anything sweet. Yuji cooks breakfast with the doll in her arms, showing him everything step-by-step and asking what he prefers as toppings. She cuts up some nuts and fruit, then finishes it with a drizzle of honey.

The doll's piercing glass eyes bore into Yuji during the meal. She feeds him too, as stupid as it is, and they enjoy their breakfast thoroughly, as a ritual of its own, not an unimportant albeit needed step in a busy day. Children have the power to bring so much brightness into the room with their giggles, naive questions, natural goodness. If Satoru were alive, she'd be now cleaning his chubby little face and having a pleasant conversation.

"You ate well. Are you full? Should we go brush our teeth now?" Yuji takes the full bowl of oatmeal and throws it into the trash.

She picks him up. The doll weighs around the same as a boy that age would, but that's not the strangest part. She rests her chin atop his head and finds that she genuinely can't tell the difference between the material used for the doll and real, human hair. He's not warm like a real person, at least.

She takes care of herself first, next is the play-pretend. She encourages him to open his mouth wide and then spit the rest of the toothpaste into the sink. Yuji is not sparse with her praises. She kneels down to his eye level and takes a closer look at the detailed perfection that he is. Yuji cups his face with both hands and smiles because his cheeks fit so well in her palms. Her thumbs rub half-moons against the well-sculptured orbital rim. He's beautiful.

"You'll be so handsome when you grow up. Look at those lashes! Can I touch? They look so soft," she says, in a voice that she hasn't heard from herself in months. She brushes her finger delicately against the tip of the white, feather-light lashes. His androgenous beauty puts her in awe.

She suddenly remembers that she didn't ask whether or not it's safe to bathe him. Yuji hasn't said anything about it through the phone, while she still thought she'd be taking care of a real boy, and then it'd slipped her mind. She's not taking chances. What if the paint peels off? Oh, and if she accidentally dropped him.. Purely theoretically, since she's not as careful with an inanimate object. Would that woman try to sentence her for murder?

Yuji fills up the bath for herself and, in the meantime, searches for Satoru's clothes. As it turns out, he has enough supply a whole orphanage. She changes him into a button-up, shorts and suspenders. Wealthy people love everything vintage or extremely modern, nothing in between. Satoru's parents are vintage kind.

"Can I trust you to be good while I'm not watching? Don't go anywhere until I'm done with the shower!"

Her humor isn't all gone, after all. She takes the 'dirty' clothes to the washing machine and leaves the doll on the bed. Yuji is starting to see some positives in this undoubtedly unlucky turn of events. It's not what she was hoping for, but maybe it'd teach her something that regular babysitting wouldn't.

The woman left her some new clothes, jewlery and expensive cosmetics. Every item has a sticky note attached to it, with messages like 'For my princess' or 'Please accept this gift.' Yuji has never been this confused before. She finds the dresses hanging in the closet, jewelry in the nightstand drawer, cosmetics in the bathroom. More and more gifts appear when she begins exploring the place.

She's not a big jewelry person and those dresses are made for dates in 5-star restaurants, which she can't even dream of. She does use the gel and lotion, though. She has her own perfumes.

When she first saw the offer, she'd envisioned long walks in nature, watching the kid while he plays with his peers, engaging in small talk with the other nannies/mothers. Satoru's mother quickly brought her back to Earth, saying that her son prefers to stay inside. Who wouldn't, if they lived in a place this extravagant?

"You know what's really fun? Going out in a raincoat and catching frogs, snails or.. even worms, if you're not disgusted with things like that. They're slimy and whirly." She pauses, regretting that they can't communicate. She does really want to go out. Is it the time to pull out an Ouija board? "Oh, well. It's okay if you're a homebody. One of my friends likes to stay inside all day too. You'd get along, but your mom told me not to bring him over. You don't like guests? But you're such a friendly boy. It's hard to feel comfortable around strangers, right?"

They head to the library to blow dust off the covers and find something worth reading. Maybe 'The Chronicles of Narnia'? She can't pick anything too childish or mature. Yuji spots a few classics like 'The Sorrows of Young Werther.' Satoru would've probably liked it if he had the chance to grow up and fall in love. It surely wouldn't be unrequited with a face like that.

Yuji finds what she was looking for and makes an additional discovery. She sees a photo album at the back of the room, on a shelf that feels more private than the rest. She plants her hand hesistantly on the spine and tilts her head to Satoru. "Can I? Would you mind? I think your mom would've hidden these from me if it were something sensitive."

Her heart skips a beat when she sees the first page. The three family pictures show Satoru's mother, his dad and the boy himself. Not the doll. A boy made of flesh and blood.

The pictures are not in order. Yuji first sees him as a scowling ten-year-old, then as a pouty baby. He was so adorable and the doll looks just like him, except for the expression that shows no emotions. The Satoru in the pictures was never afraid to show moodyness or joy. He used to study hard, play instruments, hang out with kids his age.

Yuji ruminates over the lost possibilities, as if it were her own family member who'd passed away. She puts the album away.

She reads aloud to Satoru all afternoon, without the intention to prolong it this much. There's no one to stop her, so she keeps going until she looks at the clock and realizes the hour. A real child would've fallen asleep ir ran away by now. Ah, the real Satoru would've given her hell. He looked like a child with no filter or shame, but she likes challenges. She'd get him to like her. She wouldn't have let anything bad happen to him.

Yuji cooks for both of them, feeds Satoru, throws away his portion. She can feel herself getting more comfortable with the silence that falls in the mansion when she turns the vinyl player off and doesn't talk to Satoru. She's not as confident after dark, though. Every creak makes her think of footsteps and she needs to have her nightstand lamp on even as she scrolls through the cartoons she'd downloaded for the boy. The door to her bedroom is locked, every corner of the room inspected before she finally sinks into the mattress.

She's caught between dismissing the whole babysitting thing and feeling awkward about lying braless next to the doll. Sleeping in it would be uncomfortable and no one's around. Who cares about being modest.

Fushiguro texts her again when they're nearing the end of the first episode, and they talk about the motel room and the nearest restaurants. She still thinks that it was unnecessary for him to follow her, but it's uplifting to know that she can rely on him. He's in the same town, just a few streets away. He asks if they can meet at a cafe any time soon and Yuji casts a cursory glance at the doll. She takes a longer moment to respond. In the end, she decides that she'll be able to meet up if Satoru proves to be responsible.

A new scenario emerges in her imagination -Satoru's parents having the same thought proccess as her just now. He was a very serious child and it could be mistaken for maturity. They left him alone, didn't they? That's when it happened.

Yuji shakes her head. She needs to stop.

A need for comfort pushes her into the welcoming arms of childhood memories. Itadori parts her lips, the first words of her sentence at the tip of her tongue. She wavers in a second of self-consciousness, but the feeling passes. "Gramps didn't let me watch TV for too long when I was younger. He thought I'd get addicted and wouldn't want to do anything else. He'd buy me any comic book that I wanted, though, even the ones I shouldn't have been reading at that age. What's your favorite genre, Satoru?"

Action ensues on the screen. The characters are running away from some demonic presence trying to take over the world.

"Boys usually like fantasy," she continues. "Hm, I think everyone likes fantasy." Yuji yawns and stretches her arms over her head. "You were the handsome knight in school plays, right? The hero who defeats the dragon and gets the girl. Gosh, life is cruel."

She dozes off some time later, only the third episode in. Yuji blinks awake when she hears the opening song and instinctively looks over at Satoru to see if he's asleep. Eyes wide open, that sucker. She presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of her new job.

"How about we sleep together tonight? I don't feel like carrying you back to your bedroom." She looks at him expectantly. "Okay? Okay. Deal."

Yuji pauses the cartoon, moves the laptop away and places a kiss on the boy's forehead. "Goodnight, Satoru."

She brings the covers up to her chin and falls asleep without a problem. It's the first proper rest she'd gotten since she'd seen the charred body of the little girl. Wasuke visits her dream self and takes her to their house in Sendai. He's not sick and she's not the same rebellious teenager she was back then. Yuji faintly registers a tear or two roll down her freckled cheeks and pool in the cupid bow to then drop onto the velvet pillow. She doesn't know if she's crying because their happiness exists only in a mirage of the real world, or if she's grateful for getting the chance to see Wasuke again.

Loud knocking wakes her up earlier than her alarm. She's convinced that it's the middle of the night, but the sunlight filtering through the curtains says otherwise. Yuji drags herself out of bed, turns the lamp off and unlocks her bedroom. The sound repeats as she makes her way down the stairs. She doesn't rush.

It takes her a few seconds to get to the door of her apartment, but here? She feels like royalty. The hallway itself is bigger than her place.

Yuji opens one wing ajar, ready to shut it if she sees someone she doesn't recognize. Call it paranoia, but don't the locals know that the couple left their whole mansion to one unassuming babysitter? Fushiguro greets her with an uncertain smile.

"Not a burglar."

"This time," Yuji adds. "What brings you here?"

"Let me in?" Megumi suggests.

She steps away and locks the door right after he makes it inside. Fushiguro opens his mouth, possibly to answer her question, but it quickly falls shut. He gives her a one-over and his brow shoots up in curiosity. "Hey, not to be rude, but um.. You walk around like this?"

Yuji looks down. "What? The bunny slippers? Sweatpants?"

"Bra," Megumi answers shortly.

You'd think it's hard to forget about something that brings you so much back pain, yet Yuji managed to. She covers her nipples with her palm and forearm and then remembers that a cardigan would've been more helpful. She wraps it around her chest. "You'd seen me looking worse."

"Yeah, but not around a kid. Anyway, do whatever you feel is right. I brought groceries," he waves the cardboard bag. "Want me to help you unpack?"

"He's just a child. He doesn't view me through that light."

"Right.." Megumi presses his lips together. "Is he asleep? I'm being careful, like you wanted. You can say it's a delivery if he catches us."

Yuji snorts. "Feels like an affair."

"It does." Megumi doesn't find it as funny. He sets the bag on the floor and sighs. "I wanted to know if you were really okay and it wasn't the kidnapper texting me back. My job is done."

Itadori feels warm inside. No matter what stupid or impulsive decision she wouldn't make, she's not alone. Her friends really think that she's worth this effort. "Thank you, Fushiguro," Yuji pulls him into her arms. He's stiff for the first few seconds, still somehow not used to physical affection. Megumi eases into the hug, as always. He rarely initiates anything, but doesn't ever reject her.

A loud shatter coming from the kitchen makes them both flinch and pull away to make eye contact. It startles Yuji so much during this calm morning, that a sharp pain blooms in her chest.

"What was that?" Megumi asks, as if she's supposed to know.

They understand each other without words. Fushiguro leads, moving towards the source of the sound as quietly as he can. No one's there. They can see the broken glass, no other damage. Yuji remembers pouring herself some water yesterday before bed, and leaving it here, on the counter. Was it close to the edge?

"A regular occurrence in a haunted house. Don't worry 'bout it," she tries to play it cool, but her hands tremble slightly when she picks up the dustpan and brush.

"It didn't wake him up?" Megumi mutters to himself.

"He's a heavy sleeper, like me."

"Or he'd gotten out of bed and you haven't noticed. Maybe that's his way of saying 'Get out.' Spoiled kids.."

"He's a good boy," Yuji argues.

"Alright. I don't want any trouble."

Megumi helps her clean up. He takes some paper towels and wipes the water off. Fushiguro decides that he'll help her unpack since the boy had already seen him and before leaving, he remembers to say "I'm not her boyfriend. Don't be too angry at me, buddy," to the empty hallway behind Yuji.

At least one of them has a reasonable explanation for what happened. She sends Megumi off right when she needs him the most. Right when something disturbing had happened. She thinks about coming clean and telling him that there's no bratty kid pulling pranks on them. That there shouldn't be anyone with them.

Her smile fades when the door closes. Yuji turns around to face the semi-darkness of the mansion. She stands still, waiting for something to happen. For some grand reveal -a figure emerging from the shadows or a sign of paranormal activity.

She rubs her eyes with a tired groan.

Yuji hasn't experienced anything like this when she was actually hoping for it, during her occult club days. Bad timing, ghosts. The doll is a reassuring weight in her arms. She takes it to the kitchen, set on making breakfast despite the tension in her body. A broken glass isn't as easily explainable as a poster falling off a wall, a flickering lighbulb or a door swinging open out of nowhere.

She eats in silence, feeds Satoru with dishonest enthusiasm. Itadori does everything else too -the change of clothes, brushing his teeth, petting his head. But she doesn't look at the doll the same anymore.

"Are you there, Satoru?"

The ticking of the clock makes the pause louder. Yuji stares into his blue eyes. She smooths down his white hair and poses another question. "Are you a ghost? I hope you're a nice one. Well, an angry spirit is better than a human intruder. If I can choose, that is. Was it you, who knocked the glass over?"

Good ol' silence.

"Fine," she says on an exhale.

Kugisaki has been prodding her to go out for drinks and she didn't feel like it was the answer to her problems. It still isn't. The weather is better than the other day. It's not raining anymore and she can even see faint rays of sun cutting through the dark clouds. She's locked in a golden cage.

Yuji doesn't intend on getting blackout drunk. She treats herself to a glass of alcohol sometime in the afternoon and sips on it the whole day. It calms her nerves and makes it easier for her not to cut her fingers off while cooking dinner. She keeps up appearances while talking to Kugisaki too. Satoru doesn't get much attention from her today. She can't force herself to talk to the doll.

It's almost night when she pours herself the second glass -outside of the camera's view, of course, so that Kugisaki wouldn't know what she's drinking. She also changes into a hoodie before the call, so as not to let the Fushiguro-situation repeat.

"That is such a 'you' thing. Are you going to stay there if they pay you better?"

Yuji licks the liquor from her lips. Her throat, chest and stomach and burning up pleasantly. "No. I always knew who I wanted to be and I'm not changing my mind because of money. She also expects me to cave in. We were on the same page while talking on the phone, and now it turns out she needs a full-time nanny."

"That's perfect for you."

"I wouldn't say so. She wasn't being honest with me about quite a few things."

Nobara's smile grows mischievous. "Ohh, tell me about it."

FaceTime is the best choice when you need someone to be looking over your shoulder for you. Kugisaki's cat sometimes appears too, and that's another plus. Nobara catches it while it's strolling around her desk and lifts it to the camera with a kissy sound.

"Muaahh! You got a smooch so you can't say no."

This cat doesn't like her. Yuji smiles, amused by her friend's effort. "It's nothing interesting. Better tell me about you and Maki."

Nobara couldn't drop everything and follow her like Megumi. She'd recently gotten promoted at work and her relationship is flourishing. Playing Yuji's personal bodyguard would've messed with everything.

Her and Maki's relationship is to die for. Yuji treats it sort of like an example of what she wants in the future. Fear holds her back. She's not a coward in most instances, her job proves it, but family is a delicate topic. She's scared of entering a committed relationship with the wrong person or building a beautiful life just to lose it in the blink of an eye. Itadori sees things like that on the daily.

Kugisaki is the one to end the call because, unlike Yuji, she has things to do after work. Itadori had never preferred dolls, even when she was little. She had the same wild imagination as other kids and could entertain herself sufficiently when she had no one to accompany her, but it couldn't replace other people. It's pretty boring.

She finds the doll and greets it with reluctance. "Hey, there. Looks like we're stuck with each other." Yuji takes the liquor in one hand and supports the weight of the doll with the other. It settles on her hip. "I honestly didn't plan to talk to you anymore. It makes me look crazy. We didn't get to do anything fun together, right? I needed to catch up with my friend, but I kept your secret. Yup, I didn't tell her that you're a doll."

Yuji gets cozy in bed and pulls out her poor, overheated laptop again. "Don't take it personally. I'm not saying that you're any worse than a real boy. I guess I thought that.. babysitting could be like a trial period for me. To see if I'd be a good mom, get it? And if I'd like to be one at all. Maybe it's not for me. I have a lot of patience for you, but you don't talk, or.. move, or..- do anything, really."

The doll sits there with a neutral smile that discloses nothing.

"Let's do something that I want to and watch Dirty Dancing. I'll skip the inappropriate parts. What's better than a good romance movie from time to time?"

Yuji can't confidently say that she'd ever had half as much romantic chemistry with anyone, as the characters on the screen. She didn't date as a teenager because boys were scared of her. People her age meet their other half at work, but that's not the case for Yuji. Relationships aren't a must anyway.

She's feeling more anxious than she did back home. This little vacation isn't doing her any good. Yuji isn't paying attention to the movie, instead thinking about everything she's going to do when she's done with this contract. For one, she needs to pay someone to cleanse her from the energy of this haunted house. Believing in ghosts wasn't just a middle school phase. She seriously should've volunteered at an animal shelter. No doubt, she'll return in a worse state than she'd arrived.

No trip could instantly fix her, no new experience could help her realize some truth that she's missing. She needs to be good, help people, make the world better, but there's no amount of effort and sacrifice that would be enough.

Oh, isn't that so negative? No one is blaming her for being imperfect. She's doing everything she can, just like the people around her.

She redirects her attention to just about anything but those thoughts. She focuses on the music, the clothes that the actors are wearing, the make-up accentuating the woman's natural features and the details of her face in the up-close shots. The shared passion brings those two closer over time. It's as ideal as it gets -a beautiful woman and a handsome man, opposite backgrounds, forbidden love. She'd seen a myriad of movies like this.

It's not that explicit. The dancing sequences are the best, not only because of the obvious reasons like the grinding and thrusting, suggestive hand placement and meaningful eye contact. He's earning her trust and they're learning to work as partners; in sync.

They get their happy ending and Yuji finishes her last glass of liquor while the credits roll. She doesn't feel like sleeping next to the demonic doll tonight, so she carries Satoru to his bedroom, tucks him in, and, quite bugrudingly, plants a kiss on his porcelain forehead.

No amount of alcohol can make her forget to complete her precautionary steps. It's stupid, but she genuinely feels like a complete darkness would've been an encouragement for whatever evil spirits lurk around this building. She uses the covers as a shield and decides to sleep in the safest position in this case -on her back. This bed is big enough to fit at least five people and the headboard touches the wall, leaving both sides open. It's the worst.

Yuji wraps her arms around her torso in a self-soothing manner. She generally does well on her own, but tonight, she can't help wanting a nurturing man or a woman -someone to hold her hand, embrace her and make her less alone. The alcohol in her bloodstream forces her to ruminate over the failed dates she'd been on in the past. She touches herself the way she wants to be touched; with the tenderness that no man wanted to treat her with.

She'd do anything to forget how dirty they made her feel; like she wasn't made to be cherished, but conquered. She was invisible in middle school and high school, in the romantic sense. Her height and muscles were not attractive to boys her age. Men find her sexy now. She went from never being viewed as a woman to being nothing but one.

Men want to touch her, but their hands are dry and rough. They want to kiss her, but she doesn't want a tongue down her throat. Yuji is vocal about her expectations, yet her words fall on deaf ears.

She cups her breast under the tank top and massages it leisurely. Her palm moves in slow circles, fingers catch her hardening nipple as her other hand travels down her hip and under the loose sweatpants. Yuji gives herself the time to adapt to any stimulation before moving forward. Foreplay is another thing that men deny her. Are they even familiar with that concept? They want to insert their little dicks as soon as they stiffen.

The men she'd slept with so far were handsome and well-mannered on the outside, but their minds were no different from those who were openly disgusting. Yuji's 'vulgar' body deserves spanking, pinching and defiling. They don't ask before their hands close around her throat, because they assume that that's what she likes. Maybe her curves remind them too much of their sex toys and that's why they can't fathom being gentle with her, let alone fall in love. Only a madman would ever develop feelings towards an object.

Yuji makes herself come with selfish, greedy absorption towards the needs of her own body; with no man breathing heavily on top of her telling her to tighten up or announcing his orgasm like a winner of a marathon leaving the losers behind. She wasn't fast enough, so she's not getting anything out of it. By masturbating, she's doing exactly what her partners were, except without using another person. She doesn't have to listen to her date's complaints while he pulls the condom off and throws it into the trash. Stupid Yuji. She made it so much less pleasant by pressuring him into wearing a rubber, but no worries, they can meet again.

Itadori drifts off, carried by a wave of sated fatigue. Some time later, she registers something like a minifestation of her desires -a large hand carding through her hair and brushing stray locks off her forehead. It's a nice dream. The soft, careful hand eases atop hers, the mattress bends, manly scent lingers somewhere in the air. She's feeling so fuzzy inside.

Yuji stumbles towards the bathroom in desperate need of a shower. She slathers herself in the peach-scented shower gel, after a whole morning and afternoon spent in bed. Maybe if she makes herself somewhat presentable, she could meet Megumi in town. She doesn't even attempt to play a good nanny today.

She takes her time in the steamy bathroom, hoping for the heat to erase every last drop of alcohol from her pores. Yuji rubs her puffy eyes, breathes out in her open palms, lets the stream of water glide over the expanse of her neck. She stays there for so long that her tan skin turns red and the shampoo is long rinsed.

Itadori is generous with self-care. All that to feel like a brand new person, though that's a tad too ambitious. She feels just okay after getting out of the shower. Yuji glances at the laundry basket, while dressing up. Then, her eyes return there to make sure that she saw right. Nothing new or extraordinary appeared in the basket, more like.. something disappeared. Or she remembers wrong.

The red hoodie.. -her favorite hoodie- was right there, on top of the other clothes. It's not easy to miss. She lifts a few items, then the second layer, and the third, the fourth..-

Her gaze shifts to the unlocked door. The one to her bedroom hasn't budged. If someone wanted to come in, they'd have to get through that obstacle first. Yuji throws the fresh clothes on, and abandons the laundry mess in the bathroom. She would have noticed if someone was there with her. She takes a deep, calming breath, moving towards the big, wooden wardrobe and the bag lying by its door. If it's not in the laundry, it has to be somewhere else.

Composure and logic are the only way. Well, about the composure part.. she's not exactly calm while throwing everything off the hangers. When she's done, the bedroom looks as if a hurricane went through it. Stress pulsates through her body. It's thrumming in her arms and legs, making itself known in her neck, creating a stinging pain in her temple. The hangover is not helping.

Finally, she plops onto the edge of the bed. The hoodie could quite literally just be lying somewhere on the floor, maybe under the bed. She was getting hot after the alcohol, so would it be so strange if she took it off before falling asleep or right after waking up? The details blur. Yuji remembers feeling sticky and determined to wash that sweat off as soon as possible. Her heartbeat slows down. She gazes blankly at the vanity and notices the birds' chirping, so loud that it reaches her through a closed window.

She's like this because her friends' worries had rubbed off on her and then the glass incident.. If it were true and some pervert lived with her under the same roof, wouldn't he have taken the underwear? Who would've ever wanted to steal a worn-down hoodie that she had since high school?

There are no witnesses, so she can act like it never happened. She leaves the two messy rooms to make herself something warm to drink. Every new day convinces her more and more that she doesn't want to stay here. How much worse does it have to get for her to realize that the contract wasn't that serious? She's responsible and would've never broken her promise, but this is an exception to the rule. That woman needs to come back ASAP.

Yuji packs the most important things in one suitcase and unlocks her phone to call Fushiguro. She hesitates before dialing. She also can't bring herself to call their agreed-upon meeting an emergency. It dawns on her, how much she needs another person's perspective. She used to consult everything with her friends, vent about work. She used to be an open book, but back then, she was also proud of being strong and capable.

Her honesty starts with one more lie. She needs to hear that she's not paranoid and crazy for reacting the way she does; that it's okay to make a mistake even after failing so many times before. It's not stupid to leave, right? It's hurtful to come to a point where she can't trust herself anymore. Yuji doesn't plan on dropping a bomb on Megumi. She first tells him that Satoru had expressed disinterest in quality time and would be in his room while they talk. She assures him that it'll be fine and that the rule-breaking would stay between them.

The whole thing confuses Megumi. He arrives as quickly as he can, carrying takeout and soft drinks.

"All good, Itadori? You're pale."

She thought she needed to ease him into this, but it was about her. She needs time to prepare herself. "Mhm.. Come in."

"Are you being held hostage? You're scaring me," he jokes, trailing after her into the spacious living room.

"We need to talk."

Megumi quietens. His demeanor changes appropriately. "Is it about me? Am I getting in the way? I thought I was doing something good by coming with you."

"What? No." Seems like they were both overthinking while they were alone. They're in a completely different headspace. "I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you."

"I feel like I've been out of the loop lately. Something's bothering you."

They sit down, Yuji takes one of the cans and fills the pause with the sharp pop and hiss. "Yeah.."

Megumi lowers his voice and leans in, in discretion. "So, he's okay with it? Just making sure. I wanted to come over a bit later, while he's in bed. How are you getting along? I'm assuming very well, since you have this pact of silence. Also, can I meet him? I'm pushing it, I know, but it feels weird when he's sort of.. hiding?"

"Too much at once."

"You're right," he exhales. "Let's dig in."

The song playing in the background is one of the least romantic ones she could find. Yuji forces herself to eat half of her portion. Her stomach begs for food, while the rest of her body is in alarm mode. Spicy noodles just don't seem like a priority now.

"I have so many questions I've been wanting to ask you."

She hadn't brought him here just to act unavailable again. Talk, Itadori.

"Me too," she says. "To be honest, I'm lost. You and Kugisaki already saw it back home, right? I've been thinking about grandpa. I'd disappoint him so much if he saw me like this."

"Itadori, he loved you. Wasuke wanted one thing for you and that's happiness. I'm not trying to say that you'd misunderstood your grandpa's last wish, but.."

Yuji nods. "I know what you mean. I shouldn't help people at the expense of my own needs. If I want to save people, I need to save myself first. He said what he said because he'd learned that it's the way to die with no regrets. Grandpa wanted a better world and I'd like to believe that he'd entrusted his hopes in the right person."

"He did," Megumi says confidently.

Yuji scoots closer and they finish their meals in a contemplative atmosphere. Megumi's presence grounds her, his shoulder pressed to hers makes it easier to breathe. Running away wasn't the answer. This moment of closeness heals something within her and though she subconsciously knew that the solution to her problems would be simple, she somehow overlooked this.

Back home, they were constantly busy with work and she couldn't bring herself to bug Megumi about being social in his free time or suggest that Nobara gives her a lot less attention than her girlfriend.

Fushiguro surprises her with something he'd never volunteered in before -playing cards for money. She's done with Pachinko Parlors, but Poker is still allowed. Megumi doesn't want to bet big sums. Wonder why! He rarely wins against Yuji.

She's having a great time laughing and poking fun at his bad luck. Itadori doesn't intend on keeping the money she'd won so far, but she enjoys acting as if she's serious about robbing him of this cash.

"If I knew that cheering you up would be this expensive, I would've taken on some extra shifts."

His growing stress tickles Yuji. He's not playing his cards right -quite literally. She evaluates what he had in store at the end of each game and arrives at the conclusion that he could've won if he tried.

"Are you letting me win?"

"I wish. I'd save face by being charitable."

Itadori lets out a genuine laugh. It's probably time to show some gratitude and, of course, she knows that Megumi would rather gloss over everything he'd done because 'That's just what friends do.' She doesn't let him. Yuji reaches for his hand in a moment of meaningful solemnity.

"Thank you, Fushiguro."

He squeezes back, too uncomfortable with cheesy lines. Yuji finds it incredibly cute.

The vinyl player ruins it with its sudden scraping sounds. The music slows down, erasing Yuji's smile and successfully encouraging her to remove her hand. Fushiguro looks at her like she's supposed to know what's happening, exactly the same as when the first unexplainable thing happened in his presence. He wants her to say that 'It does that sometimes,' but in actuality, it doesn't. The singer's voice becomes deeper for a moment, and when it turns to normal, another thing malfunctions. Certain parts loop, another skip entirely. Waiting it out doesn't help.

Yuji gets up to turn it off. All the stress accumulated in her body comes back to her now.

Three times the charm. Whoever's in this house -ghosts or people- they don't want them there. Itadori makes a brief stop by the couch to inform: "I'm taking my things and leaving. I've seen enough."

Megumi isn't willing to accept it from the get-go. He rises, gets a hold of her by placing his hands on her shoulders and attempts to get an answer: "What? Wait, why? Itadori, you can't just..-"

She gives him no room for discussion. "It's not safe. I'll tell you later."

Megumi raises his voice. "We're in danger? What about the child? Are you going to leave him here? Itadori!" He stops her again with a firm grip. It angers Yuji.

She turns around to clutch his shoulders in a switch of power. If she doesn't do this, they will never get out of here. "Don't. Stop. Me. Now. We have no time. There is no child."

Yuji sees a shadow of understanding in Megumi's eyes. She can't blame the fear and disorientation rising in his body, but he just.. freezes for a moment. The unspoken question: 'What are we running away from?' lingers between them. He releases her, and then another disaster pulls them out of their inaction.

Fushiguro's car.

It lit up in flames.

They see it from the window. Yuji doesn't react at first. The sheer disbelief turns her speechless, but Fushiguro is more than talkative.

"Who..? Who did this? Is this family locally hated? We have to call the police, Itadori. I have to go there-"

"No." She grabs his wrist. "I don't know who it was, but they're trying to lure us out."

"Make up your mind! Are they inside or outside? What are you not telling me? You wanted to leave and now.." he makes a general gesture of frustration.

She has to pull herself together, but her brain already processes it all as fast as it possibly can, with no useful result. She knows as much as Megumi, though she should have some extra information. Yuji carries more responsibility, after all.. she brought him here. She did so, knowing that it could be dangerous.

Megumi doesn't wait for her to calm down. They have no time -she said so herself. He takes the closest weapon he can find and rushes out of the room.

Where is her phone? The thought pops into her mind suddenly. Take action, Yuji. Call the police if Megumi hasn't yet.

Her pockets are empty. She searches frantically in the gaps between the couch cushions, then looks around for her friend's cell. He took it with him.

She's torn between the instinct to chase after her friend mindlessly and doing the right thing. There has to be a stationary phone somewhere. She lifts the handset and dials. Yuji swallows hard. She can't hear anything from the outside. Anything but the car alarm.

The signal rings in her ears. She's waiting patiently, checking her surroundings every few seconds. It goes to voicemail. As her last hope fails, Yuji goes through all the possibilities once again. Then, as a hand covers her mouth and a damp cloth presses against her nose, she finally understands. Megumi's car was a distraction meant to separate them.

The world is a blur of shadows and shapes, she can hear distant groaning and see dark smears on the wooden floor. It's a trail of blood starting in the hallway.

Yuji grits her teeth and powers through the weakness in her muscles. If she closes her eyes again, she can say goodbye to survival. She doesn't know anything -what time it is, what happened when she'd blacked out or where the attacker is now. Itadori can only hope that the blood belongs to a stranger, not Fushiguro.

She doesn't count on the optimistic scenario and begins looking for anything sharp or heavy. Luckily for her, pieces of a broken mirror aren't hard to find. Her body refuses cooperation, but she makes it out of the room. Run away? Hide? Overpowering the attacker is realistically impossible it's safe to assume that they know the mansion well enough to find her in no time. Why isn't she dead yet? They had her on a silver platter, but they let her wake up.

Yuji uses the wall for support. The shard digs into her palm and still, she's determined not to release it. The groaning she'd heard earlier was certainly Megumi. There, visible through the doorway, lies a disturbingly familiar figure, unreachable through the hallway suddenly stretching into an endless journey. She feels as though it'd take her hours to get to him.

It has to be the stupidest choice. She doesn't give herself a chance by joining Megumi, but her clouded mind gives her instinctive orders. Maybe, deep down, she knows that it's no use anyway. They'd find her while crawling down the stairs or giving her best shot at a dramatic escape through the woods. The sad reality is that she's too drowsy and slow to do anything.

"You've woken up already? I'm sorry, Yuji, I didn't want you to see this."

The male voice comes from somewhere behind her. The pace of his footsteps matches hers, and he doesn't speed up to catch up to her, leaving a few meters between them. He's like a hunter stalking his wounded prey in its final moments.

Yuji reconciles with what's about to happen. She didn't think it'd come to her this easily, but now.. she feels almost calm. She's getting closer to Megumi, her friend, whose blood is soaking into the floor; whose eyes open and fall shut repeatedly as he fades in and out of consciousness. His stab wounds need immediate medical attention.

"You won't talk to me?" The person behind her says, his voice full of self-pity. "You've ignored me the whole day. I'm very unhappy."

Yuji ignores the fool and kneels by her friend. She cups his face and finds that his limbs are completely loose. His neck can't hold the weight of his head anymore. How much blood has he lost? She can't see any recognition in his eyes. They're empty when she asks him to stay with her, and roll to the back of his head shortly after. His heart is still beating. He's still fighting.

Tears blur her vision. "I'm here, Fushiguro. Don't leave me, please-" Yuji discards the shard of glass, pulls the sweater off her shoulders and presses it into the gaping holes in Megumi's stomach.

The attacker kneels down across from her and leans over his victim. He's playing with his knife. "He's suffering. Let's finish him off."

Yuji lifts her eyes at the pathetic excuse of a human, her hand immediately shooting towards the one holding the knife, when.. She stops dead in her tracks. "Satoru?" The man that she refused to acknowledge is wearing a mask reminiscent of the doll she'd been taking care of. The same blue eyes, white hair.

He somehow softens up at the sound of his name. His eyes gain this childish innocence, like he'd been caught red-handed by someone he wanted to be good for. Satoru tucks his chin, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt.

There's hope. She didn't think she'd ever be this happy to find out that her friend's attacker is the 'boy' she'd been hired to babysit. Yuji doesn't understand everything fully just yet, but there is definitely some kind of emotional attachment she could use against him.

"Hey, Satoru.." Yuji doesn't let go of his hand or break eye contact as she kneels next to him. "You're a good boy. You don't want to do this."

"He needs to disappear."

Yuji takes on a gentle tone. "You were supposed to listen to me."

His eyes light up. "I know how to listen. I'll be a good husband."

She nods slowly. "Right, so.. we need to patch him up. You can't let him die."

He's upset by this. Yuji should've believed it when she'd been told about his jealousy. Looking back at it now, he'd been sending her signals to warn her of what she shouldn't have been doing. Did he steal the hoodie because she neglected him? Was he watching her.. at night?

She remembers the gifts left by her boss, and now it all makes sense.

"Yuji makes me better. I don't want to harm others anymore, but Yuji needs to be good too."

She agrees. "I will be. I'll accept any punishment if you think I deserve one."

"No." He raises the knife and Yuji stops him at the right time, using all her strength.

"You can't-!" She exclaims, panicked, and rushes to knock the idea out of his mind. "They'll take you to prison. Is that what you want? To be away from me?"

He looks into her eyes with utter confusion. "But Yuji," he cocks his head. "Dead bodies are scattered all around the garden. They will never find him."

Itadori inhales deeply. Her voice is barely above a whisper. "You can't do this. I promise I'll come back if you just let me drive him to the hospital."

"You promised not to bring him here."

The negotiations are going nowhere, but her strength is coming back slowly. Yuji immobilizes his hand and knocks the knife out of it. His shock works to her advantage. Satoru didn't expect this attack, much less does he expect Yuji to jump on him as he reaches back for his weapon. They tossle on the ground. Yuji's drive both impresses and angers him.

She has the upper hand, until he gets tired of her vicious behavior and pins her down. Yuji doesn't take it as a loss. As soon as she frees one of her hands, she can maneuver towards the weapon.

"Your care towards another man makes me want to kill him even more. I will do anything for you. Anything, but allowing that pest to live."

Yuji catches her breath. "Satoru. Saving him is the only thing I want from you."

He looks at her so sad and wounded. His eyes are extremely expressive. They're beautiful.

She knows what to do. Her body language changes as the realization hits, and with no frown on her face, Satoru can let go of her wrists. He's receptive to the be positive shift in her behavior. She gazes at him as if he truly means something to her; as if he's not an enemy, but someone who can still be saved. He's not broken. He's not unfixable.

Yuji takes his mask off. It's an intimate, special moment, akin to undressing a lover. Satoru's skin is as smooth and fair as the porcelain, his lashes are as soft as the doll's, and that's where the similarities end. He's much more breathtaking than his doppelgänger. Even a skilled artist wouldn't be able to imitate this pulchritude.

Itadori rubs her thumb over his cheekbone and Satoru simply melts. He looks like he's been waiting for it since he'd seen her do the same thing to the doll. His palm presses against her hand and he nuzzles against her gentle touch.

"I love you, Satoru. You're the only one for me." Yuji brings his face closer. Satoru closes his eyes before the kiss. "Nothing is going to change between us if he survives. Will you help him?"

She's careful not to use Megumi's name. Yuji makes it as impersonal as it can get and that works on Satoru better than trying to humanize his victim to evoke empathy.

"Yes," he says, as meek as a lamb.

Yuji is finally released from the anxiety of the unknown. She meant something a little different when she prayed for a doting man in her life, but she won't complain as long as Fushiguro lives.