Rambling about how people who drink oat milk are pretentious and how much you wished you lived in a barbie dreamhouse.

You practically know the whole city. Everywhere you go, you're stopped and greeted by someone you know. You compliment strangers on the street, you grin at everyone you walk past and you have this bright, bubbly energy that never seems to melt off.

Everyone knows this. You are many things. But quiet simply isn't in your vocabulary.

The commentary. The dramatic retellings. The unnecessary sound effects. The 'and guess what happened next!?' at full volume while everyone else is trying to eat in peace. 

And usually, Toge sits beside you, chin in his hand, listening, 'salmon,' he hums softly when he agrees, 'okaka,' when he doesn’t.

But today?

You’re quiet.

Too quiet.

You’re sitting at one of the long tables, eating lunch with the first and second years, poking at your food, speaking in this weird, tiny voice that barely carries past your own tray. It doesn't even sound like it belongs to you.

“And then… Um… The curse tried to, like… Grab Gojo-Sensei…”

It’s barely above a whisper.

Toge blinks.

Across from you, Panda pauses mid-bite, “Did she just... Whisper?” He asks the others.

Maki squints at you “Are you sick?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! I’m fine. Just… Talking... Normally...”

This is not normal.

Toge tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. Je knows your normal volume. Your normal is at least a two dollar medium-sized gag gift store megaphone.

He nudges your knee gently under the table, “Tuna?” He asks softly.

You shrug, avoiding eye contact. “I just… Don’t wanna be loud.”

He studies you.

Someone must've said something to you. His expression shifts, subtly, but protective.

You try to continue your story in your tiny, polite voice. “So then gojo-sensei was like, ‘I’m the strongest,’ and the curse just… Um… Called him—”

You trail off.

Toge unzips his jacket. His gaze locks onto you.

“Talk louder.” It comes out clear. Controlled. Directed only at you.

You blink.

And then—

“AND THEN THE CURSE TOLD HIM ZARA PROBABLY HAD A MODELLING POSITION FOR HIM WITH THE WAY HE WAS POSED UP—”

Your hands fly to your mouth.

Your eyes go wide.

You’re yelling. So loud you can see birds rocket out of trees outside the cafeteria.

Maki almost chokes on her drink, Megumi's shoulders jump, startled, Nobara drops a chopstick. Yuji and Panda burst out laughing. And everyone else follows suit.

You slap your hands over your mouth, mortified. “TOGE—!!”

“More.”

“IT SAID HIS INFINITY COULDN’T PROTECT HIS TRAGIC FASHION SENSE!”

You look like you want the ground to swallow you whole.

But the more you try to hold it in, the more the cursed command forces your voice up out of your throat. Like word vomit.

“AND THEN GOJO-SENSEI TRIED TO FLEX BUT HE SLIPPED ON THE RUBBLE AND THE CURSE WAS LIKE 'MAYBE YOU SHOULD TAKE THAT BLINDFOLD OFF SO YOU CAN SEE WHERE YOU'RE GOING'—”

Then you look at toge.

He’s smiling.

Not a big one, just that small, satisfied curve at the corner of his mouth. Eyes soft. Proud.

And his eyes are almost glazed over, looking at you like he just won the world. Because there you are. Bright, loud, animated, and exactly as you should be.

You start giggling mid-sentence, still stuck at full volume, “—AND THEN HE SAID THE FALL WAS TACTICAL AND THE CURSE SAID 'I HOPE THAT BOOGER ON YOUR NOSE IS TACTICAL TOO'.”

You’re half laughing, half yelling, completely red in the face.

Toge leans his chin on his hand again, watching you fondly, “Salmon,” he says gently. 

Translation: That’s better.

The curse wears off soon enough. You meet his eyes. And instead of shrinking back down into that too-small voice from earlier…

You keep talking.

Like you.

And somewhere near the doorway, Gojo pouts about filing a complaint while the rest of the students lose it at your storytelling.

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ───────── ୨୧ ──────── 𝜗𝜚 ⋆