Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Megumi sat on the bench, with his hands clasped in his lap. His gaze was fixed on his classmates scattered across the playground- eagerly chatting about and huddled in groups.

Megumi hated break time.

Often, his sister would approach him with an armful of friends, hoping they could bond.

But he saw the sidelong glances. He heard the hushed whispers. And so, he pushed them away before they could leave him speeding up the inevitable. 

From across the playground, Megumi's gaze latched onto a group of boys. Backed up against the fence was a smaller boy, long bangs partially obscuring his face, his hands held up in a placating gesture. They encircled the boy like how a hyena toys with its prey. Besides them stood a girl, with her hand planted on her hip, snickering as she watched. In her free hand, she clutched her blazer. 

He recognised her long hair, cascading down her back, and the obnoxious sound of chewing gum.

Tsubasa. 

She had all the boys wrapped around her finger, like moths drawn to a light. 

She was all plastic- forced smiles, and fake laughter.

Megumi scoffed. He knew what he had to do.

He approached the swarm of boys. 

“He was totally ogling my breasts!”

Wait. What? Fushiguro faltered, deciding he needed to listen in before starting a fight, or he could be in the wrong.

“She does have a huge rack, so they bounce when she runs.”

“Uhm. Ew,” Tsubasa mumbled under her breath, her lips curling into a frown. 

Fushiguro wrinkled his nose, feeling uncomfortable.

“I get why you’d do it, Yoshino-chan.” The leader sneered, grinning wickedly.

“So, were you looking?” 

“I wasn’t.” The corner boy stated simply.

The leader scoffed, and drove his foot into Junpei’s collarbone. “Then are you saying Tsubasa’s lying to us?” 

“He was definitely looking at them! Hey! Teach him a lesson, first.” 

As Megumi stepped forward, the crimson and hazel leaves crunched beneath his feet.

“Oi.”

And with that, they turned to face him. Four pairs of eyes latched onto him, accompanying his every move.

Tension hung in the air, clotting it.

“It’s the siss-”

And then, without warning, his fist connected to the leader's jaw with a sickening crunch.

The boy who he had hit first grunted, and sucked in a sharp breath before swinging aimlessly. It didn’t matter how, or where- it just needed to connect.

Megumi, however, clicked his tongue. He caught the fist with with ease, delivering a sharp blow to his abdomen, sending him staggering back with a gasp.

And then, it happened. There was movement, fists were flying everywhere, connecting to his stomach, his nose, his cheek. 

Pain thrummed steadily throughout his body. Crimson trickled, pooling in the crack of his lips. A pang of copper entered his mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tsubasa was darting away, along with the victim.

But he was too busy to pay attention to that.

The leader delivered a sharp blow, sending him flying backwards. Megumi’s head slammed against the tarmac with a thud, earning a gasp.

A pair of hands came onto his shoulders, pinning him firmly in place as the leader towered over him.

Megumi writhed and squirmed.

He kicked the leader out of sheer desperation, driving his heel into his stomach, causing him to stumble back, gasping as he clutched at his stomach. 

As Megumi stood to his feet, his vision blurred, pain radiating steadily from the force of the impact, paired with the punches. 

He delivered a sharp kick to the leader’s throat.

The leader’s hand hovered over his mouth, splatters of blood spraying as he coughed and wheezed.

Now there were two of them left.

His hand darted out, roughly yanking the lanky boy back, his feet skidding against the tarmac, before tossing him aside for later. 

The second one made the mistake of turning his head around, because a sharp blow was delivered to his eye.

He turned his attention back to the lender, dragging him along by the collar despite the cries and pleas of protest.

Fushiguro continued to drag the rest of the bullies until they were stacked up on top of each other.

He paused, simply taking a moment to admire his work.

With his hands shoved in his pockets, he began stepping until he reached on the pile of bruised bodies until he reached the top. He perched himself on the top with a long, drawn-out sigh.

“There's one fundamental rule to interacting with others. You know what that is?” 

"No, I don't,” Came the muffled response from somewhere below. 

“It's simple. I won't kill you, so please don’t kill me, either. Substitute any word for kill- the point is you don't infringe it on others in order for both to exist. Just rotting around, breaking that rule so that others have to try not to piss you off must've made you feel powerful. ”

He began descending. 

“Next time you do it, I’ll kill you,” He stated simply, allowing the heel of his shoe to dig into their skulls, driving the message into their heads physically. 

"Yeah but... what did we ever do to you?” 

“Figure it out yourself, or die.” He muttered dismissively, waving a hand, swatting the question away.

“Hey!” A voice called out. Megumi turned his head, and arched a brow. 

A pink-haired boy stood before him, his fists clenching by his side. Under his blazer was a plain white hoodie instead of the standard school shirt. Fushiguro simply stood there, with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” 

Megumi blinked. 

“My name’s Megumi. Not that it matters to you.”

Megumi, and not Fushiguro. He had amputated the last part of his name long ago. He wanted to be nothing like-

“I’m not asking for your name!” He responded, “I can’t let you go around beating up people like some kinda freak!” 

“I can assure you, I’m no-” 

He was cut off with a sharp jab to his temple. Megumi didn’t have time to react. It was skin against skin, bone against bone as a barrage of punches came his way. The crack of knuckles carried by the wind. Pain bloomed everywhere- his jaw, his cheek, his temple- sharp and raw. 

Megumi faltered at this, sucking in a sharp breath. The raven-haired boy rolled his shoulders, before swinging sharply for the pink-haired haired boy’s throat. He was only defending himself- was he fighting so dirty? It didn’t matter. All that he was focused on was the thrumming in his veins, the buzzing in his ears, and the copper tang on his tongue. 

The pink-haired boy’s hand flew to his throat, gasping as he clutched at it. “That wasn’t a move I wanted to pull. But if you had listened to me-” 

Rough hands gripped his shoulders. The boy pounced on him, his lips curled into a sneer, exposing his sharp, canine-like teeth. His body thudded against the tarmac once more, sending fragments of the material flying. 

This was an easy move to counter. A quick kick to the stomach, and-

“Alright, alright!” A sudden voice spoke up. As Megumi lifted his head, he caught a glimpse of hazel eyes and a maroon turtleneck. He faintly recognised that voice. It was Shoko Ieiri, Megumi’s science teacher. She stood over the boys, clapping her hands together. 

“Break it up. You two. Now. ” 

Slowly, the pink-haired boy removed himself from on top of Megumi, standing to his feet. Megumi did the same. 

“Come with me.” 

The two of them followed the woman, occasionally shooting the other a sidelong glance, but nothing beyond that. They weaved between students laughing and chattering as they crossed the bridge to make it to the other building. 

Once they had reached the med bay, Ieiri gestured for them to sit down on the plastic chairs displayed before them. Fushiguro eyed them sceptically, wondering if they’d break. Meanwhile, the pink-haired boy sat down. The flickering light above them casted long silhouettes, vanishing as soon as they appeared. 

Ieiri opened the door to the office in front of the med bay by tapping the lanyard against the receiver. She opened the freezer, and retrieved two ice packs.

“Ya know that you were in the wrong, kid,” Ieiri muttered to the pink-haired boy as she returned. Then, she turned her attention back to Megumi, and handed him a bundle of tissues as he finally sat down.

“Pinch your nose with them, and tilt your head forward. So the blood doesn’t get in your throat. Megumi did as he was instructed, pressing the bundle of tissues to his nose, watching blood seep onto the tissue. 

“How would you know?” Megumi asked, his voice nasal.

“I was watching the whole fight,” The woman stated simply with a shrug.

“Then? Why didn’t you stop me?” Fushiguro scoffed.

Ieiri snorted, and rolled her eyes playfully. “Well. You’re doing the right thing. Someone needs to stop them. All they get at most, is like. A detention,” She mused, shrugging. 

“You’re not mad? You’re not going to lecture me?” He asked, a hint of scepticism lingering in his gaze. 

“Nah. I hate giving lectures. Students don’t even listen.”

“So, here’s the full story: a kid was getting bullied by a bunch of boys, and there was this one other girl watching. Seems like a prick,” Ieiri muttered under her breath, “But anyways, Fu-” 

Megumi’s shoulders tensed. 

“Megumi here stopped them. But you didn’t see that, ‘cuz by then, the kid was already gone.” The woman handed him an ice pack, gesturing towards the dark bruise blooming along his eye.

“ Ohhh. ” He pressed the ice pack against his closed eyelid, wincing at the sharp sting from the cold. 

After a pause, he added: 

“Oh. Damn,” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly, “Guess I’ve been a real pain, huh? Gee. I feel so stupid. I didn’t even know, or think to ask. I’m sorry, man.” 

The raven-haired boy huffed. 

“It’s still something you shouldn’t have done, regardless. Don’t you think at all?” 

“Heh, guess not.”

“Save it. I don’t want an apology,” Fushiguro grumbled. 

“Hey! I’m tryna apologise here, and you’re being hissy about it!” 

“For a valid reason!” He shot back, gesturing towards his face, “Have you even seen what you’ve done?” He tossed the bundle of tissues into the bin as the bleeding came to a stop, dots of crimson staining his fingers as he swiped at his nose. 

The two of them sat there, a long silence stretching over them. Shoko, meanwhile, had retreated back into the office, one leg crossed over the other as her gaze was glued to the screen before her, fingers hovering over the keypads.

“Wait, uhm…I-I’m not gonna get a detention, right? Right?” The pink-haired boy asked, tugging at his collar. 

Megumi, meanwhile, pressed the ice pack against his face, alternating with his various bruises. 

The woman glanced up at him. “There a reason why you shouldn’t?” 

“I have to get home, and I have to cook for me and my brother, an-” 

Fushiguro’s interest was piqued as cooking was mentioned. He had never been the best cook, so it was always Tsumiki who had done that for them. He had never bothered asking her to teach him, not wanting to waste her time. 

And besides, Tsumiki’s birthday was today, anyways. Maybe he could cook something for her, for a change. 

“Your parents don’t do that for you?” She countered, arching a brow.

At this, he faltered. 

“They’re both…busy with work,” He muttered, his words crackling like the static of a tv, “They come back late, so they can’t.” 

“In this economy?” The woman snorted, a wry grin skittering across her lips, “Tch. That’s fair. But next time, yeah, here’s a little advice; actually think before rushing into a fight.”

“You can cook?” Megumi leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. 

“Well uhm, yeah.” 

“Teach me, then.” 

“What? How? Why?”

Megumi carefully evaded the question. “You practically beat my face in. We’d be even, after this.” 

“I…eh, don’t think my brother would be okay with it.” 

“He doesn’t have to know.” 

“You’re not letting this go, huh.” The pink-haired boy didn’t wait for an answer. Fushiguro’s face said it all. 

“Yeah yeah, fine. We’ll be even after this, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“The name’s Yuji Itadori.” The pink-haired boy said. 

“Megumi.”

“Pfft. I know that already.” 

The raven-haired boy wet his lip. Why did he say that again? He already said his name earlier. Now he just looks stupid. 

He cleared his throat abruptly. 

“I don’t live far. Just walk straight down the road when you leave school. Turn right, then right again. In the middle of the road is my house- flat. Whatever you call it. Just buzz at my number- 316.” 

Walk straight, turn right, turn right- all of this was a lot of information in such a short time. 

“Right. Right. Got it.” 

“But if my brother comes home early, he’ll kick your ass. And mine.” 

It was a risk worth taking. 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Tick tock.

Only fifteen minutes left until the bell would ring. 

Tick tock.

Not long until he could meet up with Yuji and learn how to cook. 

Tick tock.

His gaze remained fixed on the board, his chin propped up lazily in his palm.

It didn’t dawn on him that he was given a homework assignment before the sound of zips opening snapped him out of his trance. As he glanced around, everyone was reaching for their planners, scribbling something down. 

Megumi did the same, reaching for his planner. He peered over his partner’s shoulder, scribbling down the same thing as they did before slamming his planner shut and shoving it back into his bag. 

He’d worry about that another time. 

He couldn’t exactly remember what Itadori had told him. But he’d figure it out…hopefully. 

As he exited the school, students exited in swarms. The occasional parent could be spotted around the school, waiting to pick up their child. 

Earlier on during the year, Tsumiki had thrust her timetable into Megumi’s hands. She said that if she didn’t have a club that day, or wasn't working, and if his lesson was near hers, they could meet up and walk home together. 

Today was one of those days. Her lesson happened to be further down the corridor. Fortunately, she had a student council meeting, which meant she’d be home late.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Megumi had walked straight down the road, then turned right, and right again. 

Laughter sailed on the breeze. Megumi turned his head, Catching a sight of a young girl, running ahead of her family. She was no older than one - arms outstretched, babbling.

Her older brother, another small child ran up to her, grinning. Their parents, meanwhile, were debating. The mother was laughing, shaking her head. The father meanwhile refused to back down. Eventually, the mother relented, allowing her husband to push the pram.

A family, untouched by grief or hardships. 

If only his were like that. Megumi exhaled through nose, a stab in his gut, a twinge of jealousy. 

He had other things to focus on, right now.

Yuji’s flat was centered in the middle of the road, crammed between buildings. His finger hovered over the intercom as he racked his brain, trying to recall what number it was. 

Testing his luck, he opted for the number below it. After counting to five in his head, he gave the door a shove while holding the handle. But nothing. 

Then, he tried the number above. Counted to five. Gave the door another shove. But this time, it opened.

The communal area was illuminated by the buzzing, flickering lights overhead. Paint was peeling off of the walls as he passed. Long, metallic bottles of drugs were scattered across the stairs. 

At the center of the staircase were a group of people huddled together, faces long and gaunt, clothes worn and tattered. The woman had a cigarette, poised between her fingers, a cloud of smoke drifting lazily towards the ceiling. The man, meanwhile, was muttering to himself, the occasional bark of laughter leaving his lips. The other woman, crammed against the side of the wall, was asleep.

Megumi eyed them cautiously, his tongue poking the inside of his tongue. 

“Uhm. ‘Scuse me.” 

They instantly parted, shifting on the staircase wordlessly, allowing him access.

The raven-haired boy was wandering through the corridors. The lights didn’t flicker here, and drugs weren’t scattered around. 

As Megumi found the door labelled with the numbers 316, his fist hovered above the door, before knocking. 

The door swung open. There stood Yuji Itadori- grinning, sleeves rolled up.

“Hi!” 

“Hello…” He muttered, clutching the straps of his bags. His gaze shifted to his fingernails. Suddenly, they had became so interesting 

A determined grin on his face. He was still dressed in the school uniform, his bag discarded by a chair leg. Fushiguro kicked off his shoes, placing them under the radiator and neatly placing his bag in front of it. 

Megumi Fushiguro approached awkwardly, eyeing the spread of ingredients: a box of spaghetti, ground beef, onions, garlic, tomatoes, and a handful of herbs.

“You were being serious about teaching me how to cook.” 

“Yep! But uhm…I might need you to do something for me in return.” 

Great. Favours. Always had to return them to make it even. 

“And that is?” He arched a brow, urging the boy on.

“I’m gonna need you to walk Kugisaki’s dog. I said I’d do it, but we have a match that day.” 

Kugisaki, Kugisaki…he knows that name. A blurred figure came to mind, features shifting and wavering.

“Is she that popular girl?” 

“Popular?” Yuji snorted, “Super.” 

A long, drawn out sigh left his lips. “Fine, fine.” 

He should’ve expected something like this, really. 

Itadori clapped his hands together, drawing Megumi's attention. 

“Alright! I’ll show you how to cook spaghetti and meatballs!” Yuji announced, holding up a pack of spaghetti. “First rule of cooking: don’t stress.” 

Don’t stress. Like that was easy.

“But before that, you gotta wash your hands.” 

Megumi did as instructed, washing his hands, allowing the scorching water to burn his fingers, turning them red. 

Yuji handed Megumi a carrot and a peeler. “We’re adding veggies to the sauce. Peel this, then chop it up. Just don’t hold the knife, like, super tight or anything.” 

Megumi grumbled, but followed Yuji’s demonstration, slowly peeling and dicing the carrot. Yuji, meanwhile, chopped onions and garlic, tossing them into a sizzling pan with olive oil. The kitchen filled with the aroma of sautéing vegetables.

Fushiguro pursed his lips as he hunched over the counter, stubbornly dragging the knife along the carrot in an attempt to slice it.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Yuji pointed out, leaning over Megumi’s shoulder, “Your knife is the wrong way,” He said with a laugh. 

Fushiguro groaned, and buried his face in his palms. 

Yuji took the knife from his hands, the fingers brushing together in the process. The pink-haired boy turned over the knife, the sharper side facing downwards.” 

“Right, right…” Megumi muttered, turning his attention back to the carrots.

“Now, help me with the meatballs,” Yuji said, dumping ground beef into a bowl. “Add breadcrumbs, an egg, salt, pepper, and some parsley. Mix it up-yeah, with your hands. Don’t be shy!”

Megumi hesitated but eventually plunged his hands in, mixing the ingredients. Yuji grinned, rolling a perfect ball and dropping it onto a tray. Yuji, meanwhile, was cranking the knobs to preheat the oven. Megumi’s first attempt was lopsided, but Yuji just laughed. “They don’t have to be perfect. Just tasty.”

Then, Yuji opened the oven, heat radiating from it, causing Megumi to step back. 

Yuji shoved the meatballs in without using oven gloves. 

“Aren’t you…supposed to use oven-gloves?” Fushiguro muttered awkwardly as he hovered near to the side. 

“Eh. It’s cool.” 

Itadori stood up, dusting his hands. 

While the meatballs were browning in the oven, Yuji showed Megumi how to simmer tomatoes with the veggies, seasoning the sauce with basil and oregano. Together, they boiled spaghetti, stirring the pot. Itadori, thinking Fushiguro wasn’t looking, flicked a noodle of spaghetti in Fushiguro’s direction. 

The raven haired boy’s head snapped up in that direction, shooting him a sharp glare. 

To make it even, Fushiguro abandoned the pot to wash his hands. He didn’t bother drying them, instead flicking his wrists so that the water sprayed onto Itadori, earning a huff of laughter from the pink-haired boy. 

When everything was ready, Yuji piled spaghetti onto two plates, topping it with sauce and golden meatballs. “Moment of truth. Try it.”

Yuji scooped up a spoonful, blowing on it before bringing it to Fushiguro’s lips. 

Megumi blinked, before opening his mouth. Flavour burst onto his tongue. 

“So?” 

The boy nodded slowly.

“Yeah. It’s…it’s nice.” 

“Well! There you go! But before you leave, gimme your phone.” 

“Why?” 

“So I can give you my number to give you the directions to Kugisaki’s house.” 

Fushiguro reached into his pocket wordlessly, and handed his phone to the boy. 

Yuji’s fingers hovered over the keypad before typing in his number, and handing it back to Megumi. 

“Yep! There ya go!”

Without warning, the door burst open. From the corridor stood a man- a pink head of hair to match Yuji’s, but his shoulders were broader, his jaw sharper. His hi-vis jacket was illuminated by the glow of the light. Underneath his jacket was a grey long-sleeve, with trousers to match. 

“The hell’s going on here?” 

Itadori turned to Megumi, cupping a hand around his mouth as he frantically whispered. 

“Go, go!” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

He gathered his things, shrugging on his back as he slipped out of the door, and into the corridor.

Sukuna watched as the back of the raven-haired boy’s head disappeared. 

“Stay there,” Sukuna called out. 

“Huh? What a-” 

But Sukuna had disappeared before Yuji could finish his sentence.

Sukuna hovered in the corridor, his gaze lingering on Megumi. 

As Megumi approached the huddle of people, he cleared his throat, bracing himself to ask them if could be excused. 

“Oi,” A sudden voice called out. Megumi turned his head, catching sight of the pink hair and tattoos running along his arms, “Let him pass.” 

Instantly, they parted, allowing Megumi to slip by, muttering apologies. Sukuna watched, ensuring Megumi made it safe, before slipping back into the corridors. 

“What’s up with the kid?” Sukuna slammed the door behind him with his foot, and stepped into the house, kicking his shoes off.

“The hell were you doing out there?” Yuji scoffed. 

“I asked first.” 

“And I asked last.”

“Oh, you know. I was gouging his eyes out,” Sukuna hummed casually, offering a slight shrug.

“Are you being for real??” Yuji exclaimed, the casual tone of his voice making him falter.

“No, you moron. It’s obviously not safe within our communal area. I was simply ensuring he makes it out safe. And don’t be dense. I was asking if he’s your friend.” 

“Friends? Nah. Just met him today,” After a pause, Yuji added: “To be honest? I don’t think he even has any friends. Like, sure, I see him around school- and that’s it.” 

Sukuna huffed at this. 

“I’m surprised. You seem like you’re the type to adopt him, as if he were some sort of charity case.” 

“Nuh uh! I wouldn’t!” 

“Well, who knows. I’d say he could use the friend, in this instance,” Sukuna mused, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully with his arms folded across his chest.

Itadori scoffed. “Oh, like you’re suddenly so wise?” 

“Like you’re suddenly so wise?” Sukuna mimicked, raising his voice an octave, earning a scowl from his younger brother “I am, in fact, older than you. So yes. I am wise.” 

“Yeah yeah, shut up.” Yuji grumbled, rolling his eyes, swatting at his arm. 

Sukuna’s arm darted out, snaking around his neck, squeezing lightly. He kicked at the back of Yuji’s ankle, almost causing him to trip up. His grip remained firm, ensuring his younger brother wouldn’t fall. 

“Let- let me go!” 

“Nuh uh.” 

“The hell you mean, ‘nuh uh?’” His younger brother grunted.

“You have to apologise, first.” 

“Shut up,” Yuji snorted, elbowing his brother sharply in the side, bone against bone. 

Sukuna hissed, swatted Yuji roughly on the head, but relented. 

“Lucky I’m not in the mood for your nonsense, brat.” 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Fushiguro waited in line, tugging at a loose thread on his blazer as he waited at the post office to select a cake. Earlier during the day, he had searched under his bed for the stash of money he kept hidden in case of emergency, and shoved some into his blazer pocket.

His gaze latched onto the line of cakes, choosing one. The scent of fruit and cinnamon mingled, infiltrating his nostrils.

Ahead of him, a glass display case gleamed with rows of cakes, each one decorated with swirls of frosting and glossy fruit. Fushiguro studied them, weighing his options. He knew he couldn’t afford anything too extravagant,

His eyes landed on the bag of icing, as opposed to the extra three pounds it would take to get a message written on the cake. 

He opted for the bag of icing.  

When he got home, he shrugged his bag off and dumped it aside, before kicking his shoes off, sending them slamming against the radiator before landing on the floor. In one arm he clasped a bag of groceries, and in the other he was holding the cake.

Megumi was hunched over the table, clutching an icing bag in his hand as it trembled slightly. He sucked in a sharp breath, before preparing himself to do it. 

His hand wasn’t steady as he clutched the bag of icing, resulting in the writing turning out jittery.

He clicked his tongue. Maybe he should’ve just payed the three pounds after all. 

Megumi twisted the knob, and electric blue flames leapt from the stove. He twisted it slightly to the left, lowering it. The pot that was filled with water was beginning to gently bubble on the stove. He opened up the pack of spaghetti, tipping it over into the pot, wincing upon realising he might’ve added too much.

Meanwhile, Megumi decided to begin chopping garlic and onions- holding the knife the right way, this time. The aroma of sautéing garlic infiltrated his nostrils as he added olive oil to a pan and tossed in the garlic and onions. He stepped back instinctively, watching the pan sizzle, his shoulders tense. 

Next, he poured in a rich tomato sauce, stirring it gently as it simmered. He sprinkled in some herbs-basil and oregano- to deepen the flavor, then tasted the sauce, adjusting the seasoning with a pinch of salt and pepper.

“Megumiii! I’m home!” His older sister called out, her voice sailed through the room. She kicked off her shoes, and tossed her bag aside. 

“You really it’s necessary to announce that? I can tell it’s you- no one else makes such noise.” 

“Rude,” She snorted, and an amused grin skittered across her lips. Her gaze latched onto whatever Megumi was hunched over, and she gasped. 

“Is that what I think it is?” She prompted, grinning.

Megumi stepped aside and set down the bag of icing. 

“You bought me a cake!” She exclaimed, grinning eagerly. With a swipe of her finger, she collected frosting from the edge of it, and brought that finger to her tongue. 

“What’s up with the writing, though?” She prompted, gesturing towards it. 

“Well. Uhm, you see, that is-” 

Tsumiki simply shrugged. 

“Eh. Who cares? It’s still a cake.” 

Megumi exhaled through his nose, almost in amusement. 

“Happy birthday, Tsumiki. I couldn’t get you candles, though. I apologise.” 

“Why would I need a candle to make a wish? I have everything I want, right here.”

She turned to him, a soft, fond smile playing on her lips. Fushiguro felt a surge of warmth bloom in his chest- unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He’d never admit it outloud, though. That’s just gross. 

“You’re such a sap. You sound like you’re reading those motivational, hippe facebook slogans.” 

His sister snorted, and an amused grin skittered across her lips.

Tsumiki countered that with: “Least I don’t scowl like I’m constipated.”

“I do not, ” He huffed, feeling the tips of his ears flush.

Megumi reached for a knife, cutting it down the middle vertically, before doing the same horizontally and diagonally. Tsumiki, meanwhile, was hovering around him, snickering beside him. 

“...What?” He groused, blinking at her.

“You don’t cut a cake like that, you idiot.”

“Shut up,” He huffed, clicking his tongue, feeling a flicker of embarrassment. 

Then, Tsumiki pulled out a plate, scooping a slice onto the plate, watching it topple sideways as it landed on the plate, smudging the frosting. With her spoon, she scooped some into her mouth. 

“Mmm. ‘s nice!” 

The raven-haired boy offered his sister a nod, his lips twitching up at the corner. 

“I’m glad.” 

He wordlessly made his way over the sofa after flicking the lights off, and settled down onto it. 

“Hey! A warning would be nice!” 

“Relax. I’m turning the tv on,” As he pressed the button on the remote, the light faintly illuminated the room, bathing it in a hazy glow. Without warning, his sister settled beside him, kicking her feet up, the heels of her feet nudging against his thigh, earning the girl a sharp glare from him. 

In response to that, she only propped her feet up on his lap. 

“I hate you,” He groused weakly, averting his gaze to the floor. 

“Pssh. I hate you more. ” 

He handed over the remote to her, his gaze fixed on the tv. 

“Your choice.” 

“I wanna watch spirited away.” 

Megumi’s eyebrows raised. It wasn’t something she had watched in years. Not since… 

Not that it mattered, anyways.

“Well. Alright, then.” 

“Always so moody,” She taunted, returning her attention back to the screen. 

“You say that as if light were all sunshine and rainbows.” 

“It’s not,” She stated simply, shrugging simply, “

“Make sure to eat your dinner later.” Megumi chided, balancing the plate on his lap. Although he made no effort to eat dinner himself. 

“Only when you stop getting into fights,” 

At this, the boy grunted, and rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the last time. People like that test my patience. I simply did what needed to be done. Will you leave it alone?” 

Sure, sometimes, Tsumiki really just did his head in. But then again, his life would be a lot more boring, living here, by himself. This was their life, the universe that spun around the two of them.The only people they had were each other. He wouldn’t change that. Not for anything. 

Chapter Text

There was a knock at the door. 

Megumi didn’t stir, muttering to himself under his breath, with his homework propped up on his lap as he rubbed his temple. If he just ignored it, it would go away. 

And another knock, impatient and uneven.

Megumi grunted. Tsumiki stirred. He held up a hand. 

“Don’t answer it. There’s been a lot of robberies, lately.” 

And so, Tsumiki didn’t bother. 

There were several knocks at the door, this time, knuckles thudding against wood. 

Megumi set his homework down on the coffee table as he stood to his feet, making his way to the door. 

As Megumi unlocked the door, the chains rattled. Goosebumps erupted on his arms, a sharp gust of wind entering the house.

“What do you want?” He grumbled. 

“Gee,” A voice remarked, scratchy and gruff. That made him look up, “That all you have to say to me?”

The boy’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“I owe you nothing,” The boy stated, plain and simple. Leaving no room for arguing. 

“It’s me. Your dad.” 

Megumi stepped back, his shoulders tensing. The corners of his lips curled into a frown. Toji had left him all those years ago, and maybe he would, once again. 

“You’re lying,” Megumi sneered, his tone oozing with malice, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown, “He wants nothing to do with me. Or us. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.” 

It was something he knew, bone deep. Something that didn’t need to be learnt, something that could only be known, be felt. 

Seeing him here, after all these years, was like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from his lungs. 

All he knew was anger, anger, anger. 

The steady thrum of it coursing through his veins, urging to curse him out, to strike him, to slam the door in his face.

“Damn, kid,” Toji snorted, scratching his head, a grin skittering across his lips, “Really that hard to believe that I’m back? That’s it me? C’mon. Ya see the similarities, right?” 

No no no no no… 

This couldn’t be happening. Couldn’t be. But it was. 

Maybe if he slammed the door shut, his life could go back to the way it was just a minute ago. He could go back to his life, him and Tsumiki, and the world that spun around them. 

The sharp curve of his jaw. The raven hair. And those eyes. 

The slant of those green eyes. They weren’t clear- they were murky, like a football pitch, and they matched his. They were sharp. Inscrutable. 

They were so familiar. But so foreign.

That could just be a coincidence. There were so many people out there- it wouldn’t be surprising if some of them looked like him.

But that scar?

That scar that ran along the corner of his mouth- an ugly mark, staining a ‘handsome’ face.

That was all the proof he needed. It was him, after all. There was no doubt. None. Megumi would do anything for some doubt, right now. 

Toji Fushiguro. 

A man of mystery, whose name carried with it shame and pain– 

His father.

“Who is it?” Tsumiki called out, arching a brow. 

“No one,” He choked out, shaking his head. Almost like he was trying to convince himself, too.

 “N-no one, Tsumiki. Forget it,” Came the response, a little too quick to be believable. Megumi’s hand crept further up along the doorframe, like a spider’s limbs. 

Megumi returned his attention back to the pathetic excuse of a man stood before him. 

The word ‘dad,’ had rotted on his tongue at a young age, and left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Ever since his mum had died, everything had changed for them. Toji was coming home later and later. Or sometimes, he wouldn’t come back for days at all. 

And then, out of nowhere, a woman who was sobbing into her hands was outside of the door, thrusting in a child with wide hazel eyes and silky hair that cascaded down her back. 

That was how he was introduced to Tsumiki. 

On the days Toji was home, he was drinking. The scent would infiltrate his nostrils, and make his stomach churn. 

He would sit there, his eyes fixed on the tv before him, a bottle of beer clutched in hand. 

So, instead, Tsumiki stepped up. Cooking. Cleaning. Doing all of the things he couldn’t do for Megumi. 

And so, Toji left. 

Memories of the two of them had been eroded by the waves of time. 

He had woken up, rubbing his temple wearily. Sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains. There was the absence of footsteps padding along the floor, or the hum of the tv. Bleary eyed, he tossed the covers aside, and searched the house. 

He entered the bedroom, the floorboards groaning under his feet. The bed was made. His small hands reached for the cupboard door, opening it. The hangers were empty, dangling from the rack. 

And nothing. 

A stack of cash was on the kitchen counter. Megumi didn’t know why. 

He rushed to wake Tsumiki up, but the older girl groaned, and raised the blankets over her head, turning her head from him. 

So he waited. And waited. 

Hours bled into days which bled into months. 

But he was gone.

So why is he…?

“I don’t give a damn if you’re him or not. Get. Out. ” 

And then, Tsumiki appeared by his side. 

Her eyebrows shot up. 

“Is- is that?” She muttered, her voice barely above a hushed whisper, pointing a finger at the man before them. 

Toji grunted. 

“I ain’t got the time for this, Megumi,” 

“Don’t,” He snapped, clenching his jaw. Locking it to take aim, “Don’t even. Don’t call me that. 

Tension hung in the air, clotting it. 

Toji scowled. “It’s your name. I gave it to you.”

“You lost all rights to me after leaving all those years.” 

His breathing was growing ragged. His jaw had locked, taking aim. 

“So what? You just turn up after all these years? Oh, silly me- I should’ve told Tsumiki to cook, to run you a bath. To welcome you home, ” He sneered, dragging out the word, oozing with malice. 

Home. Because it wasn’t his- he didn’t belong here. And he never would. 

“What are you going to do, huh?” He barked, his voice rising along with his temper, “Leech off of us, before leaving us again?”

Tsumiki wet her lip slowly, hovering awkwardly by the door. Her heart clenched painfully, wanting nothing more than to just sob into his arms. 

It would be nice. Having a parent, someone else to finally manage things. Someone to cry to. Someone to lean on. 

And after years of doing it on her own, she could use that.

She’d never admit it to Megumi, but she had missed him. 

Beside him, he heard sniffles, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see Tsumiki, swiping harshly at her eyes on her sleeves. 

Tears. 

 She was crying.

It made Megumi falter. His expression softened significantly. He had barely ever seen her cry. He had always thought of her as strong- stepping up to provide for the two of them without any complaints, always smiling, and preaching about ‘forgiveness,’ and ‘empathy,’ and blah blah.

But she’s only a child, after all. Just two years older than him. She should’ve never had to do any of this for them. There’s only so much she could bare. 

She-

 In a moment, Tsumiki’s knees buckled, knees slamming against the wooden floor with a loud thud. Tears slid down her cheeks, onto her blotchy cheeks, spilling onto the floor. 

“Tsumiki…” Megumi muttered, his tone barely above a hushed whisper. Tsumiki had always been so mature for her age, and now, here she was. Crying like a tall child. 

Meanwhile, Toji froze. His arms were stiff by his side. A voice spoke up, urging him to move, to comfort her as she broke down before him. The  He had for a second expected Megumi to lash out on him, god knows the kid deserved to get a few punches in. 

 Toji, while growing up, was surrounded by beatings and beratings. Violence. Hatred. It was all he knew. 

 So then how was he meant to deal with all this ? 

 The tears; the snot.

 He wasn’t sure how to act when someone cries, especially when the someone in question is his own son. 

 “Tsumiki. Stop crying,” he grunted.

His tone must have been too harsh. The girl flinched at his words alone. Tsumiki only sobbed louder, pressing her palms against her face, like Toji was going to strike her.

Toji grimaced at the scene in front of him. A nasty voice spoke up in him, urging him to leave. To leave these two kids alone, with no one but each other. The pathetic excuse of a man glanced over his shoulder, back at the street he had walked down not so long ago. 

He had walked down them once. It wouldn’t be hard to do it again. 

It was just one foot in front of the other, over and over, until he was far away from the kids he abandoned, all those years ago. 

Toji just…couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do this ever again. The trouble of dealing with a child, let alone two of them, was just too much for someone like him. He’d rather be deemed a bad person the rest of his life than be here. He didn’t want this. 

And so, he had made up his mind. 

Wordlessly, he backed away from the door, averting his gaze. The sooner he looked away, the better. Like it would change anything. Like it would mean that everytime he closed his eyes, the image of his children on the floor wouldn’t be embedded into his eyelids.

His heart constricted painfully in his chest, almost as if it was torn in two by a blunt blade. But he just couldn’t do this. And besides, they had each other. They would be fine…

Even through her tears, she managed to see Toji’s blurred figure, slipping away from the door. 

 “No!” She screeched, reaching out a hand, like she could pull him back in. Like it would convince him not to leave them again. She shook her head frantically, her hand trembling. 

“Please please! Don’t…don’t leave us…” She muttered out in between shuddering hiccups and gasps. 

Megumi shot him a nasty scowl before hesitantly approaching her. He hovered awkwardly around her, pursing his lips into a thin line. 

Megumi wasn’t the best with emotions. With crying. With comforting. But he had to try. 

 His hand reached out, and landed on her head. He paused, sucking in a breath before he began stroking her hair. 

“Shhh…it’s alright, it’s alright. Tsumiki, it’s okay.” 

They’d be alright. They had each other, and that was all he needed. 

Wait. That gesture… 

It’s the same way he used to soothe Megumi when he was such a small thing, and the only pain he knew back then was the own ache of his growing gums.

The neighbors had already begun to stir, their voices mingling together, but the concern in them was audible. With the way things sounded? Anyone would think Megumi was being robbed or murdered. If the police were called, handcuffs would be secured around his wrists, and he’d be dragged off to that same dark, dank cell.

Then came the rattling of the lock. His neighbours were coming to check up on them. What would Toji even say? ‘Sorry ‘bout the noise. Just ‘bout to walk away from my kids. Again.’ What would they even think?

Maybe his next actions were selfish. Maybe his first priority was always himself, and always would be. He was just rotten and selfish and cruel and- 

Well. He’d like to pretend he wasn’t just about to walk away from them once more just because of some crying, and gaslight himself into believing he had a sliver of empathy for the kids on the floor before him. 

So before the neighbours stepped out onto the street, Toji entered the house and slammed the door shut with his foot, leaning his back against it.

Then, he cautiously approached the crying girl, scooping her into his arms, holding her fragile form close against his chest. Megumi stepped back, like Toji had caught something contagious. 

As Toji began stroking her hair the same way Megumi did earlier, her sobs subsided into soft sniffles and whimpers. 

But Megumi didn’t understand. Why would she want him around, even after everything? He had almost abandoned them- again. 

Toji had been terrible in the past after the death of his beloved. All that mattered was money and power. All the sadness, all the anger dissolved under his fingertips. 

But it never lasted. Grief was a spiral staircase, going round and round and round.

 But some nights he’d lay awake and think of his children. Think about how he handled the situation (or rather how he removed himself from the situation.) He would wonder if they were happy. If at least one of them had a chance at a normal life… And now he knew.

Megumi turned away, leaving the two of them to be. 

All he knew was anger, anger, anger. Winding up his spine. Settling in his gut, only increasing with each step

He entered his room, slamming the door, rattling the hinges. He leaned against the floor, sinking to the carpet. 

He pressed his cheek up against his knee cap, digging his fingers into his hair, clutching tight. Without warning, a lump formed in his throat, clogging it. He swallowed thickly, hoping the lump would go down. A static mist formed over his eyes, threatening to spill over.

Tears? Why would he be crying? He wasn’t sad- just angry. And there was no way he was going to let the family disgrace see him in such a vulnerable state.

A salty tear slipped from his eye, tracing a path along his cheek. Megumi swiped it away on his sleeve. Each sob racked his shoulders, and scraped his throat. He clasped a hand over his mouth, muffling each sob. 

And then, once his eyes had dried, his sobs subsided, but the aching of his heart hadn’t. Like something was missing. 

He kept his arms around himself tight, hugging his knees. He began rocking himself back and forth, an old habit of self soothing. 

Each inhale scraped his throat, and he clutched a hand to his chest. After trying (and failing) to steady his breathing, he stood to his feet, swiping at the tears clinging to his lashes. 

As he made his way to the kitchen, his feet padded against the wooden floor. He flicked the switch, and the light flickered on, illuminating the room. The boy made his way to the sink, holding a cup under the running tap. Then, with a trembling hand, he brought the cup to his lips. 

Footsteps against the floor. Megumi turned around, and stiffened at the sight. Murky green eyes like his own, staring back at him. Megumi just hoped his blotchy eyes and nose wouldn’t betray them. Whether Toji saw it or not, he didn’t say. 

Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest as his eyes studied the boy intently, noting the bruises maring his otherwise pale skin. He noted his red-rimmed eyes, and the tip of his nose, tinged red, but chose not to comment. Another crying child wasn’t something he wanted, right now. 

“Got into a fight?” He questioned. After all these years, no apology, no ‘I missed you,’ no explanation. He didn’t even ask if he was hurt. Just sprang such a random question on him like that. He’s not surprised. Not when it comes to him.

Megumi sharpened his tongue. 

“What’s it to you?” He scoffed. Toji’s claws were out and hungry, barely scratched the surface.

The man simply shrugged, unfazed by the boy’s biting tone. 

“Did you win?” 

Megumi huffed, and set the cup down, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“What kind of a rhetorical question is that?” 

Toji hummed lazily, but a grin skittered across his lips. That was his kid. That really was his kid. 

Megumi ran the tap once more, reaching for the washing up liquid and sponge, cleaning the cup. He could’ve just rinsed it regularly with just water, but he needed an excuse not to talk. 

Toji hovered by the doorway awkwardly. 

A long silence stretched over them. 

“We need to talk,” Toji declared, breaking that silence. Megumi kept his back turned, scrubbing at the inside of the cup with the sponge, pretending he didn’t hear. 

Here he was, trying to make an effort, and yet, his son was shutting him off. Pushing him away.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He grunted, “I said, we need to talk.” 

The raven-haired boy instantly shut off the tap. 

“I don’t care about what you have to say, so save it for someone who does. Save it for Tsumiki. I’m only letting you in for her. She’s only two years older than me. She shouldn’t have had to be burdened with the responsibilities of an adult. So now, you make this right.” 

His fist clenched by his side. One swing, and he’d be knocked out. Megumi shouldn’t use that tone with him, ever. And maybe, he’d be the one to teach him that. 

But- 

He’s not like the Zen’in clan, and never will be. He won’t resort to violence, and so, he gritted his teeth, willing his fist to stay by his side. 

And besides, he had abandoned Megumi for years. The hatred is something he should’ve anticipated. 

Megumi kept his back turned, even now. He didn’t need to turn around to know that his words had struck a nerve. 

Toji grumbled something under his breath, before walking off. 

Instead, he made his way into the living room. 

‘Save it for someone who cares. Save it for Tsumiki,’ was what Megumi had told him. Maybe he didn’t wanna hear it, but she did. 

Tsumiki had grown so much since he had first met her- when she was a small child who just about was taller than this hip. But those bright, hazel eyes and optimism was unmistakable about her. 

He hoped that she had been good to Megumi. That she had been good to herself. She deserved it. 

“Kid,” He started, hovering around the sofa, “We need to talk.” 

“Oh, of course,” She set down the homework she was working on, unsure of what else to do, “What do you want to talk to me about?” 

Megumi, meanwhile, avoided the floorboards that groaned under his feet, standing beside the fridge, listening in to what he had to say to Tsumiki. 

“About- about what’s happened,” 

Tsumiki had an idea about where this was going. 

He raked a hand through his hair, letting out a sharp, grating sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Two, simple words. 

And yet, that’s all they were- just words. Empty, pointless things that had no meaning behind them. It wouldn’t turn back time. It wouldn’t make up for the fact that he had left them, all those years ago. That here was here now, standing before them shamelessly. 

It really, really pissed Megumi off. Why did he even let him in, again?

And he hoped that Tsumiki thought the same, too. Toji didn’t deserve to be forgiven simply just because he was here now, and just because he had apologised. 

“I’m sorry for leavin’,” He continued, his voice barely above a hushed whisper, “I’m sorry you had to look after you and Megumi alone, I’m sorry I couldn’t be the father you wanted. I’m sorry. But- but I was in a bad place, that time. Got myself into things I never should’ve, and it messed m-” 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

Of course, he was stubborn, and proud. He wouldn’t apologise entirely- he wouldn’t admit his faults as a person, for choosing the wrong things- instead, he blamed it on the things themselves. 

Money. Power. 

“Well…” Tsumiki began, interjecting him. Thank goodness. If he had to listen to the sound of that voice any longer, Megumi didn’t know what he’d do with himself. 

“I can’t forgive you like that. You can’t turn up here again, just say sorry, and expect everything to be okay. You have to prove you mean it. But I want to know- did you regret it?” 

“What?” 

“No, I’m serious,” She repeated, her voice taking on a sharper edge, “Did you regret it?” 

Did he? 

“All the time. Everywhere I went, I saw kids, and I thought of ya. Thought of everything I had left behind. It was eating me alive. I didn’t know if ya’d even want me here, I didn’t know if ya’d even let me in. But I had to try. I have to make this right.” 

Tsumiki hummed, the sound flat and lazy. 

The scepticism lingering in her tone was obvious to Megumi, but not Toji. Toji didn’t know how to read Tsumiki like he did. 

“Hmm. Okay.” 

“Yeah…” Toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, unsure of what else to say. Or of what else there was to be said. 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Toji opened the fridge, and a gust of cold air entered the room as he dipped his head in, his gaze landing on the box shoved at the back of the fridge. “Oooh, cake. What’s the special occasion, huh?” Toji prompted, snatching the cake without even asking if it was okay. Megumi wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight. 

“It was Tsumiki’s birthday, yesterday,” Megumi muttered under his breath. 

Toji grabbed a plate, setting the slice down on it, and shoving it into his mouth with the spoon. 

“Oh. Happy Birthday, kid. How old are ya now? Fifteen?” He asked, not bothering to turn around.

Tsumiki shook her head. “Actually, I’m sixteen, now.” 

“Ohhh. Oh, alright, then. Gotcha gcses this year. Damn,” he chuckled to himself. It had really been that long. He can't help but wonder about what else he would’ve missed in their lives. Their graduations, their first jobs. Maybe them even getting married, and having kids. 

“Actually, my gcses are next year.”

“What are ya thinking about doing in the future?” Toji prompted suddenly, leaning forth on his forearms. 

“I already work.” Tsumiki responded, shrugging slightly, evading the question. The truth is, she was considering an internship, but wasn't entirely sure how they worked. And Toji? He was definitely not the type of person to ask about this, considering they're talking about jobs.

“Ain't that illegal?” 

“Eh. We need the money somehow.”

And for the first time, Toji’s expression softened, and regret flooded. Here she was, working at the age of sixteen. She was just a child. And Megumi was glad he felt guilty- he should. 

“What flavour is this? It’s real good.” 

“Coffee and walnut. Megumi picked it out,” She explained, jerking her head in his direction. At this, Megumi simply grunted in agreement. 

“Oh. Nice,” Toji mumbled in response, a little sheepishly.

“Ya have a dining table, or nah?” 

“Oh, no. We just sit on the sofa or eat. But I guess the kitchen works, too.”

“Right. Kitchen, then.”

The three of them entered the kitchen.

Megumi slid into the stool beside Tsumiki's, surrounded by the kitchen counter, wanting to put as much distance between him and Toji as possible. Toji settled down in front of them. 

“Damn,” Toji mused in between mouthfuls, something Megumi hated, “Your cooking’s still great, just how I remember it, Tsumiki.”

“It was actually Megumi.” 

“Learned it,” He muttered under his breath without even sparing a glance at the man. He was afraid of seeing those green eyes that matched his, staring back at him. Tsumiki was lucky, in that sense- hazel eyes and brown hair. All her looks came from her mother.

“Eat,” Toji grunted, pulling Megumi out of his thoughts as Toji shoved more food onto his plate, earning a frown from the boy, “Ya look so damn scrawny, kid.” 

“I am not scrawny. I am perfectly capable of defending myself and handling myself in combat.” 

“Mmm, yeah,” He hummed dubiously, arching a brow, “One gust of wind and you’re finished.” 

Megumi grunted. He didn’t appreciate these kinds of comments.

He wordlessly succumbed to his fate, and simply ate in silence.

Was this what it was like? Being a normal family, eating dinner? 

It felt like glimpsing inside a doll’s house, all the dolls poised around the dinner table, plastic smiles plastered on their features, sharp enough to cut. 

Megumi decided he didn’t want to talk anymore. Years of lost time wouldn’t be made up from a simple conversation- so he let Tsumiki do it, instead. After dinner, he propped his legs up on the sofa, balancing the book he grabbed against his thighs. 

His eyes darted across the words, but he didn’t register them. He couldn’t focus, not now- not when his father had just popped up, and re-entered their lives. Just like that. 

What if he was planning to leech off of them? What if he was going to leave again? He clearly had no trouble the first, and even second time. 

The stack of cash under his bed. Megumi made a mental note to lock his door tonight.

The air was crackling with the weight of pretending to be a happy family. 

His head was propped up against the cushion. Any body heat was trapped under the blanket. His eyelids began to grow heavy. The beckon of sleep was warm and inviting. 

He let his eyes flutter shut, and his consciousness slipped out from under him. 

As Toji pushed the door open, a sliver of light filtered in through the room, illuminating it. Tsumiki lay beneath the blankets, having them loosely draped around her waist, with her hand tucked under her head. Her lips were parted, a slight trail of drool pooling in the crack of her lip, and underneath her head. 

Just like when she was a kid. Toji chuckled to himself softly. He approached the girl cautiously, and drew the blankets around her shoulders. He reached out to brush stray strands of hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her hair. 

Then, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly walked away, stepping on the groaning floorboards beneath his feet. He hadn’t lived there long enough to know the house like they did.

The feeling of fingers grazing against his own pulled him out of his sleep. Megumi still held onto the book between his fingers. Then, his grip loosened as sleep was about to pull him under again. The book slipped from his fingers. 

Strong arms came around him, one sliding under his leg, the other around his back. Megumi was vaguely aware of the footsteps padding against the floor, not fully processing as his eyes remained shut. 

Then, he was set down onto his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Megumi stirred, his eyes fluttering open in the slightest, catching a glimpse of the figure looming over him. He turned over on his side, curling in on himself. The blankets that were previously draped loosely were pulled up around his shoulders, earning a soft sigh of relief from Megumi.

After a moment of hesitation, those fingers made their way to his hair, stroking it lightly.

Megumi parted his lips. Unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, but the words died on his tongue. He didn’t have the strength to tell Tsumiki to stop worrying about him, and go back to sleep. But if he had opened his eyes, he would’ve realised it wasn’t Tsumiki, in fact. 

Toji simply took a moment to study his face, as if committing it to memory. Just in case he left once more. No, no. Stop that. He wouldn’t leave them again. They’re his children. 

His gaze lingered on the sharp curve of his jaw, his eyelashes, and his hair. Erratic. Spiky. Just like… just like her. 

Just like his wife. But she was dead now. And maybe, her body was still rotting in that house. Maybe her body was being dissected, her organs preserved in jars and being closely studied. She didn’t get a funeral. He couldn’t bring himself to see it, he couldn’t bring himself to be faced with the fact that she was dead. And she had been, for a long, long time.

Toji, meanwhile, stared down at his son with his hand in his hair, his expression softening significantly, his heart aching. 

Chapter Text

“Hey, Megumi!” A voice called out.

Megumi ignored him.

“Yo!”

The raven-haired boy glanced up, greeted by that familiar pink hair and a signature grin.

Megumi held up a finger, signalling for Yuji to give him a moment. When he finished chewing, he said: “...Hello,” And without a second thought, he added: “If you’re here to ask me for another favour, I’m declining. I’m merely repaying you.” 

Itadori shook his head. 

“Why else would you be seeking me out, aside from the fact that I’m beneficial to you, then?” He scoffed, wrinkling his nose indignantly. 

“No no, there’s someone I want you to meet!” 

“Meet? Is this inevitable? I hate social interactions.” 

“They’re not that hard, man. Y’know. Just gotta say hi, and talk a little…” 

Megumi huffed. 

“For you, maybe. You’re a social butterfly. A people’s person. This stuff comes naturally.” 

“Well! I’m not gonna leave you alone either way. I mean, c’mon. You’re gonna meet her e ventually. Might as well be there, to, y’know,” He paused, waving his hand, “Make it less awkward.” 

That was true. It would certainly be awkward- a loser like Megumi talking to someone as popular as Kugisaki out of nowhere. 

Megumi shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, dusting his hands off. 

“Alright, then,” The raven haired boy groused, “Let’s get this over with.” 

The two of them began walking through the corridors. Megumi trailed behind awkwardly. Is he too close? Is he too far? They definitely don’t know each other well enough to be walking side by side. This distance should be fine. 

As they approached the gym, cries of frustration mingled with the idle chatter of those queuing up for lunch, rising and rising above the other.

“Yo! Kugisaki!” Itadori called out, cupping a hand around his mouth as he poked his head around the door.

Nobara, meanwhile, was busy with her drills, and didn't bother sparing him a glance.

"Oiii! Nobara! found someone to walk your dog!”

Nobara grunted, and clicked tongue. She uttered something to her tenmates. and jerked her head in the direction of the door before running off.

"Whaaat?" She groaned, leaning against the doorframe.

The girl came into view. Her cropped hair was tied into a ponytail. Despite her fringe being held back with a red clip, the occasional strand escaped, framing her face.

Her socks were midway up her calves, the red stripe along the top matching her shorts, and the number 4 imprinted along the front of her shirt.

"I already said, idiot."

"Yeah, but I couldn't hear you, moron."

Yuji rolled his eyes.

"Found someone to walk your dog,” He explained, gesturing towards the raven haired boy.

Meanwhile, Megumi hovered awkwardly by the door.

He cleared his throat abruptly, before offering a nod of acknowledgement.

“Hello."

Kugisaki didn’t even bother sparing him a glance.

Megumi felt a flicker of irritation at this. Here he was, doing something for her and she wasn't even bothered to spare him a glance?

The raven haired boy reminding himself is nothing more than a mutually beneficial transaction. He doesn't care about them, and they don't care about him. 

"Tch. ‘Bout time, Yuji."

"Yeah yeah yeah, shut up. You know everyone's busy with something. Just be grateful I found someone.”

And finally, Kugisaki, shot him a glance, her expression inscrutable.

“Yo. What's your name?”

“Megumi,” He muttered in response, his tone flat and uninterested.

“What? I just asked you a question, and that's how you talk to me?”

“You weren't even bothered to spare me so much as a glance when Itadori mentioned me,” The raven-haired boy countered, wrinkling his nose indignantly.

“Why the hell do you gotta be so defensive? How come you take it so personally?”

“Well. Hmm... let me think. Perhaps I'm taking the time out of my day for you, and you can't even mutter a simple, ‘thank you.’”

Nobara pursed her lips.

Then, she scoffed, and rolled her eyes, pushing aside her guilt.

“Aw, c’mon. Now, you're just being pisstaking,” Itadori muttered, somewhere to his right.

Well. There goes dismissing her guilt.

“Ugh, fine. Sorry. I was being a real prick, huh,” She muttered, ducking her head.

Megumi simply blinked.

"Hmm. Your apology is adequate, although I won’t accept it.”

“Damn. You're a real prick, huh, Nobara?”

Nobara snorted and a grin skittered across his lips.

“Oi! You better shut your mouth, before I show you just how much of a prick I am!” 

“Okay, okay.” The pink-haired boy laughed, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, "Geez. Relax, man.”

Nobara stuck out her hand expectantly. Megumi, meanwhile, remained frozen, unsure what she wanted.

"Your phone."

"Oh," He said, before reaching into his blazer for his phone. After he unlocked it, he gave it to the girl.

Her fingers hovered above the keypad, before number fingers typed her phone number in and saved it, handing his phone back to him.

“Here. Case something goes wrong.”

The raven-haired boy nodded.

A voice called out, grabbin the brown-haired girl's attention. She cast a glance - over her shoulder, shouting something back to her.

“Coming, Maki!”

“Who’s that?”

Itadori blinked

“Oh, you don't know who she is? Oh, damn. Where even are you?"

“Well, clearly, I'm not the most sociable person,” Fushiguro muttered, the defensiveness in his tone unmistakable, “So no. I have no idea who the girl is.

"Ohhh. Yeah, true.” Itadori cleared his throat, “You see the girl- green hair, glasses? That's Maki. She's crazy strong, and has a super short temper. She's on the girl's basketball team for- Year 9’s. Best on her team actually.”

“Him over there? Yuta from badminton,”

 The boy had dark rings under his eyes, and a long fringe, partially obscuring the left side of his face. The boy in mention rubbed the back of his. Then, he took a step back, swinging the badminton rack, grinning sheepish as the shuttlecock zoomed his way.

"He's a pretty nice guy. Bit nervous. Kinda clumsy. But when he locks in?" Yuji chuckled, "I've seen him play, and he's the best.”

Megumi nodded, absorbing all this information.

The girl nodded quickly, “Alright, see you later. Gotta go now,” Nobara mumbled, before running off.

“See ya!"

And yet, she didn't say goodbye to him. Not that he was expecting it, anyways.

“Well then, I'll be going now." Megumi declared, walking off without warning his hands shoved in his pockets.

Itadori called out: "Oh…Alright! See ya, Megumi!” 

The raven-haired boy faltered. He was... saying goodbye? 

He turned around, turning to face the boy. Yuji offered a small wave while grinning.

Putting in more effort than it's worth. 

Without debating on it too much, Megumi waved briefly and said:

“Same to you."

And with that, he walked off.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Where are you going?” A voice called out. Fushiguro’s hand hovered above his coat from the coat rack. 

“What’s it to you, Tsumiki?” He countered, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he kept his back turned.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. If you’ve finally made friends, that’s great.” 

“What? He didn’t have friends before that?” Toji piped up, glancing over at him from the sofa, remote poised in his hand. 

Great. Thanks, Tsumiki. Now Toji would be pestering him, too.

“Whether I’ve had or had friends is frankly none of your concern.” Megumi huffed, tone clipped with annoyance.

Toji snorted. 

“Damn, kid.” 

“He’s always like that,” Tsumiki mumbled under her breath. 

“And besides, she’s not a frie-” 

A long, sudden whistle came from the sofa, paired with a smirk. 

“ Ooooh, Megumi’s got a girlfriend!” 

“A girlfriend?” Tsumiki gasped, “Who? Wait, are the rumours true? Apparently you were seen with this girl? Kugisaki? She’s really popular from your year, and-” 

Fushiguro pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the tips of his ears flush crimson.

“She is not my girlfriend. What on Earth would make you think that? The only thing I’m attracting are mosquitoes in the summer,” He groused under his breath, rolling his eyes, before adding: “And besides. I’m only seeing her to repay a favour that I asked from a friend of hers.”

Tsumiki nodded, and Toji hummed lazily. 

“Sure. Whatever ya say, kid. Have fun,” Toji muttered, waving his hand briefly, his gaze still fixed on the tv. 

Megumi grunted, shrugged on his jacket, and headed out the door. 

He really could use an excuse to get out of the house, anyways. 

The air felt suffocating at home. 

With his phone in hand, Megumi zoomed in on the location that Yuji had sent him, muttering the address under his breath. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from his house.

Megumi’s hand hovered over the door before knocking, clumsy and uneven. From behind the door came shuffling and barking. After a moment, the door swung open and Nobara came into view.

The girl was dressed in her basketball kit with a bag dangling over her shoulder. In her hand was a leash, and on that leash was a dog. 

Megumi wasn’t bothered with a greeting. He just needed to do what he was here for, and get it over with. 

“What the hell took you so long?” 

“Must you be so noisy? My family thought I had a girlfriend, and thought it was you. ” 

At this, Nobara scoffed, and wrinkled her nose haughtily.” 

“Hmph! I’d never date a loser like you! I don’t go for UBSSD’s!”

“A…what?” His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Is that like a, like uh- a USB?”

“Huh? No! Someone who’s: useless, broke, smelly, stingy, dead.” The girl listed off on her fingers.

“Riiight…”

“Heyyy,” Kugisaki started, narrowing her eyes as she stepped closer. Without warning, she jabbed a finger into his chest in the centre of the logo, causing Megumi to step back. “Your coat! Arc’teryx! It’s from such an expensive brand!” 

It was a coat Gojo had bought Megumi and Tsumiki for secondary school. The boy had thought nothing of it. 

“Huh? What a-” 

The girl cupped a hand around her mouth, glancing around before dropping her voice to a dramatic, hushed whisper as she tightened her grip on the leash.“Are you secretly super rich or something?” 

“I honestly had no idea this was even an expensive brand.” 

“Huh? The hell you mean you didn’t know?” The girl exclaimed, her eyebrows crinkling in confusion. 

“I had assumed it was simply a coat. And besides, I’ve never been one who’s interested in fashion.” Megumi stated simply, shrugging.

Nobara simply snorted, and rolled her eyes. Was the irritation playful? Genuine? 

“Tch. You’re suddenly way more interesting, loser,” She huffed, delivering a sharp jab to Megumi’s arm with a thud, skin against bone.

The boy clicked his tongue, caught off guard and hissed, his lips pulling into a scowl.

“And you’re insufferable. The absolute worst.”

“Ha! Not you talking; crash out.” 

“I am most definitely not a crash out.”

Nobara’s dog, tied to the leash, began barking before approaching Megumi eagerly and circling around his feet cautiously, causing Megumi's shoulders to tense. 

“Pfft. Relax. This is my dog, Juju! Juju, say hi!” 

At this, Juju stopped circling around Megumi’s feet, and barked, easing his nerves somewhat.

“She’s a bichon frisé,” The girl elaborated. Not that he had asked- he was only here to repay a favour. “She’s sooo cute and super cuddly,” Kugisaki cooed, scooping the dog into her arms, and planting kisses all over. 

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest? Aren’t you the most cutest; most cuddly thing I’ve ever seen?” 

Fushiguro cleared his throat abruptly. 

“Well. That’s great and all, but I’m here to repay a favour. And besides, you have a match to get to.”

“Oh! Right!” The girl exclaimed, standing to her feet.

Nobara held up her phone and waved it, steering the conversation back to its original topic. 

“Call me if you need to!” 

Megumi nodded. 

“Understood.” 

And then, Kugisaki handed over the leash to Megumi. 

Kugisaki’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper, laced with venom. 

“If anything happens to Juju, I’ll kill you. ”

A mutually beneficial arrangement , he reminded himself, nothing more.

Then, she ran off, bag dangling from one shoulder.

Nobara’s dog lay down flat on her stomach before rolling over, exposing her stomach. He had never had a pet before, but he was sure that it meant that she wanted her stomach to be rubbed. Or at least, he hoped so.

The boy crouched down before the dog, reaching a hand out to rub slow, soothing circles on her stomach, causing the dog to bark. When Megumi pulled away and stood to his feet, Juju pounced on him, sending him staggering back as she attempted to lick him. 

The last thing he wanted was to be covered in dog drool. 

“No…n-no. Down, Juju.” And then, Juju immediately leaped off of him, and began pacing in circles which tugged at the leash.

Megumi tightened his grip on the leash as Nobara’s dog eagerly pulled ahead, tail wagging energetically. The small, fluffy dog sniffed every corner, her nose twitching with curiosity. Megumi’s expression remained stoic, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. 

It seems like dogs are lively and excitable. Well. If that didn’t remind him of a certain pink-haired boy he knew…

They strolled through the neighborhood, the afternoon sun casting gentle shadows on the pavement. Megumi matched Juju’s pace carefully, allowing her to explore without losing control, eventually tugging on the leash if she went too far, reeling her back in. When the dog suddenly darted toward a patch of grass, Megumi let out a long, drawn out sigh, but smoothly, crouching down to let it sniff around freely. He exhaled through his nose softly- almost in amusement- when the dog rolled onto her back, clearly enjoying the moment.

Megumi had no idea where they were going. Juju, however, clearly did. They reached the nearby park, cries of joy sailing on the breeze from the playground. The park was filled with people, from toddlers to adults. The trees towered over everyone, long branches practically stretching towards the sky.

Juju stood on her hind legs, pawing at the gate of the park while panting eagerly. 

So Fushiguro pushed the gate which gave way with a groan. 

 As they entered the park, Megumi found a stick and tossed it gently. While Juju was chasing after the stick, the sight of a young toddler caught his eye. Beside him was his dad, pushing him on the swing, grinning as his son cheered. 

The love there was obvious. It didn’t need to be questioned. But it made Megumi wonder- had Toji ever loved him like that? For no matter how short? 

What was he even thinking? If Toji really loved him, he would’ve stayed. He would’ve made things work. He’s probably just here to leech off of them for a night or two. It’s not like he ever loved Megumi, anyways. 

 The dog sprinted after it with unrestrained joy, ears flapping and tail wagging wildly. Watching the dog return, Megumi felt a rare sense of peace settle over him. 

Maki hummed, and wrinkled her nose thoughtfully as she turned to Yuta. 

From behind him came the sudden buzz of whispers mingling and overlapping. Megumi decided to pay no attention. Right up until- 

“Heyy! It’s Juju!” 

“And Megumi!” 

Megumi’s head whipped around at the mention of his name. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the pink haired boy and brown haired girl approach, but the other faces among them made him falter. There was a girl, long green hair scraped into a ponytail, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Beside her was a boy, dark rings under his eyes, and a long fringe that partially obscured the right side of his face.

“What a coincidence, man! We walk through this park after our matches! It’s the quickest way home for all of us!”

Megumi hummed, the sound flat and lazy. His gaze remained distant and uninterested.

“I see. Interesting.” 

As Juju spotted Nobara, she instantly pounced on the girl, tail wagging eagerly. 

“Hey, Juju. Aww, did you miss me? Your little cutie self missed me? It’s okay, I’m here now.” 

The sight of Kugisaki- someone who's typically so prickly and stubborn- cooing at her dog was a sight Megumi found extremely unsettling.

Meanwhile, “Y’know. I swear I know the kid from somewhere. He looks so damn familiar.”

“Well! That is a possibility! I-I’m sure he goes to the same school as us…right?” 

“Yeah, but like- I think I know him besides that. I’m gonna go speak to him.”

“Oi,” A sudden voice spoke up gruffly as Megumi was crouched before Juju. 

As Fushiguro glanced up, he caught sight of a green haired girl, peering down at him through her glasses. She was dressed in the same uniform as Nobara. 

“Yes?” He arched a brow, urging her on. But he could anticipate where this was going- he could already sense the mocking remarks and sneers. 

Maki simply stood there, her gaze lingering on his features. The curve of his jaw. His long lashes. Those green eyes, murky like a football pitch. 

She knew him. But what was his name?

“You look familiar.” 

Megumi blinked, and lamely pointed a finger towards himself. 

“...Me? I look familiar? O…kay?” His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. Someone he’s never seen before had just come up to him from out of nowhere and declared something like that? Was this a joke? 

“What’s your name?” She groused, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Megumi.” 

At this, Maki snorted, and a wry grin skittered across her lips. 

“That’s a girl name.” 

“Are you here to mock me?” He scoffed, his tone clipped with annoyance, "If so, I sincerely hope you’re enjoying yourself.” 

“Can you relax? Stop taking everything so damn personally. And I was talking about your last name.” 

Megumi sucked in a sharp breath, hesitating. He spoke slowly and cautiously, as if testing the word out on his tongue. 

“...Fushiguro. Not that it matters to you.” 

Maki blinked. “And not Zen’in?” She prompted, planting a hand on her hip.

Megumi scoffed. 

“Why on Earth would that be my surname? As I said, it’s Fushiguro. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” 

At this, Maki grunted, a hint of scepticism lingering in her gaze. At first glance, Megumi was quite basic- pale skin, and long lashes. But that hair, erratic and spiky? It’s not something you could forget easily. 

Something’s not right. 

And with that, the girl turned his back to him, walking away.

“No, seriously, I’m not sure-”

Nobara threw her head back with a dramatic groan with Juju still in her arms.“Ughh, lighten up Yuta. Stop being such a loser!” 

“Yeah! Just say your match went into overtime, y’know.” Yuji added, grinning widely. 

“To be fair, you’ve always gone home straight after a match or practice. Coming home late once late wouldn’t be suspicious,” Maki mused, the corners of her lips twitching up into a lazy smirk. 

The boy’s eyes darted between the three of them. Maki was right, anyways. Just once wouldn’t be suspicious. 

Yuta muttered, “Fine, fine…”

Nobara and Yuji high-fived each other while exclaiming. Maki, meanwhile, elbowed him in the side with a snort. 

Yuta winced and clutched his side. 

Maki rolled her eyes. The concern in them was brief and fleeting, but didn’t go unnoticed.

“You good?” 

“...That was so hard.” Yuta muttered, a faint huff of laughter leaving his lips.

“Hmph. I’ll go easy on you, next time,” Maki muttered, patting Yuta’s shoulder, before asking: “Where do you guys wanna go?” 

“Let’s get dessert!” Nobara suggested, clapping her hands together.

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Yuji agreed, nodding.

“C’mon, c’mon, you guys! Let’s goo! ” Nobara whined, tugging the sleeve of Maki’s shirt. 

“ Stop being  so impatient. We’re going.” 

Megumi watched the exchange between them, his expression hardening. He didn’t belong with them. That was clear. 

“Hey, you wanna come with-”

He didn’t want, or need friends, no matter what anyone said. And besides, he clearly didn’t belong with them. Megumi shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away. 

Chapter Text

Megumi grunted, rubbing his eye wearily. The blankets were drawn over his shoulders tightly, and he felt the mattress beneath him. He didn’t lock his door last night.

But how did he get here? 

The last thing he remembered was reading for an assignment, and falling asleep on the sofa. 

He doesn’t remember stirring, so no one woke him up. And Tsumiki wouldn’t be strong enough to carry him, which means…

From the gap in the curtain, a sliver of light escaped, illuminating the room in a faint static yellow glow. He tossed the blankets aside lazily, and climbed out of bed.

He headed into the bathroom, and brushed his teeth. A pang of mint remained in his mouth after he spat the toothpaste out. The dark bruises that had bloomed along his face from his fight earlier this week were beginning to fade. 

Megumi briefly rinsed his hands under the cold water, splashing it onto his face repeatedly. 

His eyes didn’t feel so heavy. He walked into the living room, his feet padding against the floor, avoiding the floorboards that groaned.

His shoulders tensed upon seeing the sight of Toji on the sofa, limbs sprawled out and mouth open, snoring audibly. Without even a blanket. In this weather. It’s practically asking to catch a cold.

And Megumi didn’t plan on finding a blanket and covering him. 

Tsumiki, meanwhile, remained asleep, her snores softly reverberating through the house. 

Today was Saturday. The beginning of the weekend, which meant two whole days with Toji. There was no escape, no excuses to be made. He had no friends, and no clubs. 

But it also meant that today they go out shopping for groceries for the next week in advance. 

That could be an excuse?

“Boo,” A sudden voice whispered, somewhere to his right, causing his shoulders to tense, and Megumi to yelp. 

Toji stirred from the sofa. 

“Tsumiki!” Megumi hissed, narrowing his eyes at the girl who was snickering softly, “I hate it when you do that. Stop it.” 

At this, the girl stuck her tongue out. 

“Baby. You’re a big baby. Getting scared over this,” She taunted. 

“ Stop. ” He grunted, shoving her lightly. Tsumiki huffed at this, and swatted him around the head, skin against skin, the sound reverberating across the room.

Megumi simply glowered at his older sister, his fist clenched, ready to strike. But fighting her now would only wake Toji up, and Megumi’s free time isn’t something he wanted to waste. 

So he unclenched and lowered his fist, letting his hand drop by his side. 

“I detest you,” He simply groused, waving a hand at her dismissively, swatting her away. 

Megumi slid back into his room, shutting the door behind him cautiously. His room was mainly organised, with only scattered homework assignments on his desk, and the clothes he had dumped on his chair. 

He was hiding in his room. His fortress, badly defended, surrounded on all sides with the possibility of Toji Fushiguro.

His shelves were stacked with books. The book he was currently reading wasn’t that interesting yet. But something was happening, and soon- the title promised it. 

“Da hell’s alladat?” Toji grunted, his voice scratchy, shifting on the sofa until his arm was dangling off the edge, grazing the floor. 

Great. His peace and quiet without Toji was cut short. Megumi reluctantly left his room, heading into the living room.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tsumiki held up her hands in a placating gesture, while Megumi said:

“Well. We’re about to go out,” 

“Uh? Ya do what?” Toji asked, his words slightly slurred as he scratched his head, shifting until he was in a sitting position, the sofa groaning and dipping under his weight.

“We go out for shopping,” Tsumiki elaborated, “Groceries, things like that. Every Saturday. You ready, Megumi?”

Megumi nodded. 

“Damn. That’s pretty organised.” 

“It’s good to have a routine,” Both Megumi and Tsumiki chorused. One of the few things they agreed on, especially these days. It seemed that they were on two separate sides, lines shifting and changing, and Toji being the battlefield.

 “Lemme come with ya.” 

What? 

Just one day after he’s come back, he’s trying to slot into their lives? Like doing everything with them now would make up for six years of lost time? 

Tsumiki, however, smiled softly, visibly delighted. Megumi pursed his lips, feeling a flicker of irritation. 

“Oh, of course. Just get ready and join us.” 

Toji offered them a lazy nod, before standing to his feet and stretching, a long, drawn-out yawn leaving his lips before he made his way into the bathroom.

There was faint shuffling and slamming from the bathroom, but it was drowned out by Megumi’s thoughts.

“Ya got a spare toothbrush?” Toji called out, his voice sailing through the house. 

“In the cabinet under the sink!” Tsumiki responded, cupping a hand around her mouth.

It didn’t take long for Toji to reappear. Megumi arched a brow at his grey jumper, paired with the black trousers- the same thing he wore yesterday when arriving at their door.

“Aren’t you going to change?” 

Toji shrugged, “Don’t got anything else. Didn’t know if ya were even gonna let me in.” 

Megumi resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Do you at least have enough money to buy yourself some?” 

“Eh. Just about…eh, thirty to fifty-ish quid,” He estimated, waving his hand. 

“Well then. I suppose we’ll also be going to Westfield, then. Before I forget- did you eat anything, Megumi?” 

“There’s cereal, but we ran out of milk.” 

Toji snorted, and rolled his eyes. An amused grin played on his features. 

“C’mon. There must be somethin’ you can eat.” 

Toji entered the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge, dipping his head inside while searching for something to cook. Eggs and salami. That should do. He stood by the counter, his lips pursed in concentration. The morning sun filtered gently through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the small, cozy space. 

Toji muttered something under his breath, his hand hovering over the knobs of the stove. He settled on the one in the centre, and twisted it, blue electrical flames leaping off of the stove as he set down slices of salami, letting them sizzle.

By then, Tsumiki had followed Toji into the kitchen, leaving Megumi no choice but to follow.

He slid into the seat besides Tsumiki, just like yesterday.

The early morning light filtered softly through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the small table.

Meanwhile, he cracked eggs into a glass bowl, the shells snapping sharply beneath his fingers. 

“Got a whisk?” 

“Cabinet by the sink,” Megumi muttered, gesturing to it. After pulling open the draw and grabbing a whisk, he whisked them briskly, the yellow mixture frothing lightly. Nearby, slices of salami sizzled in a hot pan, curling at the edges. A smoky, rich scent infiltrated their nostrils.

Tsumiki sat quietly at the kitchen table, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Megumi’s eyes were glued to Toji, accompanying his every move. One of the first nice things he had for them. No, not nice. Just basic. Cooking for your kids is something all parents should do. 

“I remember this.” 

“Remember what?” 

“ This. He used to cook for us like this. Not that you remember.” 

Her words stirred something, a faint image popping into his mind, blurry and shifting. Bottles of beer scattered across the kitchen. Toji standing by the stove. And Megumi beside him, tugging at the hem of Toji’s shirt, only for Toji to wave him off.

At least Megumi wasn’t old enough to remember everything clearly. Holding onto them would be like holding a knife by its blade. There was no point in clinging onto memories like that. That was years ago, and he only chose to focus on the present.

“Hmph. I don’t care for such memories,” Megumi hummed in response eventually, resting his chin lazily in his palm.

Toji glanced over his shoulder, a rare softness in his usually stern eyes. “You two hungry?” His voice was rough but carried warmth beneath it.

“Well, yes. So thanks.”

“Nah, no need to thank me,” He replied, waving a hand. 

Toji poured the fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate, and the steam rose gently. He arranged the crispy-edged salami slices beside them, then slid the plate carefully in front of each of them. Sitting down across from the two, he folded his arms on the table.

With his fork, Megumi prodded at the salami and eggs cautiously, and hummed. Tsumiki, meanwhile, had no issue digging in right away. 

“...You got a problem with it?” Toji grunted, snapping Megumi out of his thoughts. The boy immediately shook his head. 

“No. Sorry. I do that, sometimes.” 

With the piece of egg that was poised on his fork, he took a bite. Flavour burst onto his tongue. It was surprisingly…nice. 

“It’s nice. Really nice, thank you. We usually just eat cereal for breakfast.” 

“Convenient and easy,” Megumi added with a shrug in between mouthfuls. 

Toji nodded at this. 

“So uh…how does it work? Like, what’s the plan?”

“Oh. You mean for shopping? We’ll go Iceland and then Westfield after this. How does that sound?” 

“Good,” Both Megumi and Toji responded, their voices blending together. And Megumi made sure that it would be the last time.

The three of them continued to eat their dinner in silence, the air crackling with the tension of being a family. 

Megumi finished his breakfast first, sliding out of his seat to wash his plate wordlessly. 

“Wait,” Toji spoke up, food in his mouth. Something Megumi hated, “Leave it. I’ll do it.” 

Megumi didn’t need to be told twice. 

He set the plate down, washed his hands briefly, and shrugged on his coat. After Toji had finished his food, he stood by the sink, washing the dishes as he said he would (much to Megumi’s surprise, considering Toji’s history of keeping promises.)

The two of them followed shortly after. 

“Everyone all ready?” 

Her response was a set of nods. 

Tsumiki fished out the key from her pocket, twisting the key into the hole until it gave way with a satisfactory click. As they stepped out, goosebumps erupted onto his arms. He folded his arms across his chest, almost as if they were a shield, protecting him from the cold.

Tsumiki and Toji spoke, and Megumi hovered awkwardly behind. The pavement wasn’t big enough for the three of them. It should only be two- Megumi and Tsumiki, like how it used to be. 

“Damn,” Toji remarked, folding his arms across his chest, “It’s freezing.” 

“Mmm. Wonder why,” Megumi muttered under his breath. Reality was slipping from his fingers.

The voices were muffled. He didn’t feel like he’s there. His limbs didn’t feel like his own as they dangled by his side. It’s as if he was at the movies, and watching his own life before him unfold right on the big screen. The colors were muted, the sounds distant. He was both the actor and the audience, trapped in a role he can’t escape. 

Which is why he didn’t stop to look before crossing the road, a bus zooming by. Megumi had no time to react. He stood there, unmoving, unflinching, almost welcoming the bus, welcoming the way his bones would snap beneath it-

Toji, who was watching, felt panic seize his gut like an iron fist. 

“Watch out!” Toji barked, yanking Megumi back by the sleeve. Megumi flinched at his tone. The bus zoomed by. But why did Toji care? Why didn’t he let the bus just run him over? Would it really take Megumi dying for Toji to finally care? 

“No need to scold me,” The raven-haired boy groused under his breath, “I’m not a child.”

“You could’ve died !” He snarled, yanking Megumi forth roughly by the collar, fingers bunching around the neckline of his coat, “Dead! Do ya even know what that means, huh? Huh? Do ya?” Of course he did, Megumi wasn’t stupid, but- 

“Can we please go? It’s green light, now.” 

The corner’s of Toji’s lips pulled into a frown, so Megumi shot him a nasty scowl to match. He released Megumi from his grip, but not without shooting his son a warning glare, before beginning to walk. 

The doors opened with a soft ‘swoosh,’ as they approached. 

his older sister reached for a shopping cart, and Toji arched a brow. 

“Don’t gotta put a pound in no more?” 

“Nope,” She hummed in response, “Not like that anymore.”

She pushed the shopping cart alone, wheels squeaking and shuddering against polished floors.

“Right,” Megumi muttered, reaching inside his pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. Neatly folded, not wrinkled, “So, I made a list, and we need milk, tomatoes, onions…” The boy continued to list out the items; his older sister nodding intently. 

They continued their shopping journey, a long silence stretching over them, save for the occasional muttered apology when elbows brushed and bodies collided.

Once the shopping cart was filled, and Megumi folded the list away, they approached the self-checkout aisles.

“What’s that?” Toji asked, jerking his head in the direction of the self-checkout aisles.

“Self-checkout.”

“Ya can scan yerself now? Can never keep up with these things,” He muttered under his breath, grinning as he shook his head.

Megumi arched a brow. “Why do your word your phrases like that? It seems as if you haven’t been around in ages.” 

Tsumiki nodded. 

“Actually, yeah. I’m curious.”

Toji simply shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s a story for another time, kid.”

Tsumiki, meanwhile, was grabbing items from the shopping cart, pressing the barcode to the scanner, confirming the item had been registered with a beep. 

Then, she pulled out her wallet, reaching for the money before inserting it into the receiver. 

Megumi couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation. He was the adult. Now that he was here, it should be Toji paying, not his older sister. But of course, he had only arrived with a short amount of money and only one pair of clothes.

Toji wordlessly grabbed bags from the counter, leaving Megumi and his older sister hands free. 

“Aren’t- aren’t they, uh…aren’t they heavy? Should I carry something?” She asked, eyeing the bags cautiously. 

“...Nah,” He muttered, almost absently.

It reminded Toji of when he used to go shopping with his deceased wife after they had recently got married. She would insist on carrying at least one bag. Toji would roll his eyes playfully, and flex his muscles, proving he was more than capable.

Her laughter still rang in his ears. 

Megumi had inherited her looks- erratic, spiky hair and long lashes- while Tsumiki had inherited her gentle demeanour. A piece of her in both his kids.

“Let’s drop the bags home, before coming out again,” Tsumiki suggested, pulling Toji out of his thoughts.

“Right, right.” 

As the trio entered the house, Toji instantly dumped the bags before stepping out once more, locking the door behind him.

“Got your zip card?” 

Megumi nodded, pulling said card out of his pocket. 

“Always.” 

The doors parted as Megumi tapped his card, allowing him to get past.

Tsumiki followed behind him, with Toji tapping his card to do the same.

The train sped by, wheels grinding against the tracks, bringing a sharp gust of wind with it. The train came to a halt with a shuddering groan. 

The train was crammed with people elbowing and jostling for space, a majority of them being adults with stern frowns plastered on their features.

The doors parted, but they waited for the people to get off, first. 

As they stepped in, they were crammed between people, the air thick and suffocating. Tsumiki was holding onto a nearby pole, and Toji was gripping a bar overhead that Megumi couldn’t reach.

“Hold onto me, kid. ‘S crowded here.” Toji said, leaning into Megumi so he could hear. 

He didn’t want to. But glancing around, there was no space. And so, Megumi reluctantly held onto Toji’s arm. 

And for the first time in a long, long time, a soft, fond smile graced Toji’s lips as he glanced down at Megumi. Megumi’s expression softened. He wasn’t warming up to him- don’t be stupid. A simple gesture like that wouldn’t compensate for years of neglect. 

Once they had reached their stop, they got off, only to be greeted by a sharp gust of wind, tugging at their hair and clothes. 

The raven haired boy asked: “What are we here for, again?” 

“Clothes,” Tsumiki responded, snorting lightly. 

“Oh. Of course,” Megumi muttered in response, nodding absently.

The double doors opened for them with a soft ‘swoosh.’ Megumi’s senses were overwhelmed yet underwhelmed by the hum of voices, rising higher and higher, and the bright lights overhead. The voices were still muffled, and the colours were still muted. 

Tsumiki walked beside Megumi. Good. At least it was putting distance between Megumi and the stranger in their home, invading it. “We could try, uhm, primark?” His older sister suggested. Toji leaned down, cupping a hand around his ear, unable to hear his daughter.

“Uh? What was that?”

His older sister cleared her throat before repeating: “We could try primark!” 

“Yeah! Sure!”

The trio passed the card factory, with numerous cards on display for several occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, and even ‘get well soons.’ 

Tsumiki’s birthday had only passed two days ago, and beyond wishing her a happy birthday, he had done nothing else for her. The raven haired boy pursed his lips into a tight, thin line. 

Some great, loving father he was. 

Once the three of them had entered primark, they were greeted by the sight of mannequins stuck in awkward poses; clothes stapled to them. One of them was even missing an arm. 

The trio passed by the undergarment section- frilly and elaborate pairs of bras and underwear dangling from the hangers. Megumi immediately ducked his head. Tsumiki elbowed him in the side, snickering softly. Toji snorted, finding amusement in the situation. 

“Cut it out , Tsumiki,” He grumbled, swatting her arm lightly. 

“Damn.” Gotta say though, you’re better than most kids your age. Kinda thought ya’d the type to, y’know,” Toji jerked his head in the direction of that aisle, “Take a quick peek and look away.” 

Megumi scoffed, and wrinkled his nose indignantly. “Well then, clearly, you don’t know me at all.” 

And for once, Toji’s face fell. He didn’t demand Megumi speak nicer to him, because, well…he’s right. He had only come back into their lives (fourteen years late, no less.) And beyond being biologically related, he knew nothing about Megumi. Or Tsumiki.

“Oh, oh-” His older sister stopped abruptly, glancing over her shoulder, “Here’s the men’s section. Choose whatever you want…or need, I guess.” 

Toji hummed, the sound flat and lazy as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Yeah, sure.” 

Toji, meanwhile, hovered around the aisles, holding up hangers as he inspected the outfits on them. Tsumiki and Megumi remained where they were. 

“He looks as if he has no idea what he’s doing.” 

“You know, I bet he doesn’t,” Tsumiki muttered in response, cupping a hand around her mouth, snickering softly. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” His older sister called out with a laugh. 

Toji scratched the back of his head, the gesture uncharacteristically sheepish. 

“Nah, not really…” 

Truthfully, Toji had never been good with these things. It was always his wife who was, suggesting things, shoving hangers into his chest, insisting he tried them on.

“Knew it,” Both Megumi and Tsumiki chorused, under their breath. 

“Let me help you, then,” She snorted in response, the corners of her lips twitching up into a grin. Tsumiki glanced over her shoulder, and held up a hand.

“Oh, and don’t go anywhere Megumi, okay?” 

Megumi rolled his eyes. 

“Yes yes, I’m going to run away as if I were some child. Can’t be left unsupervised- I’m soo immature,” he muttered in response, his tone oozing with sarcasm.

“Shut up.” 

Eventually, the two of them returned, all bags of shopping in Toji’s hands. 

“Well then. Let’s go.” 

The train sped by, wheels grinding against the tracks, bringing a sharp gust of wind with it. The train came to a halt with a shuddering groan as the three of them stepped on. 

The trio had returned home- and yet, it didn’t feel like it. And maybe it never would. Not with him around. The sun had begun to set, making way for the soft, evening glow. As Megumi entered his room, he remembered the stack of cash under his bed. That was for emergencies, not for Toji. 

He locked his door that night before he slept, twisting the knob of the door until it refused to budge.

To make sure it was locked, Megumi gave the door a light nudge. Once, twice. 

Chapter Text

Ominous clouds ganged up around the house, obscuring the sun and its rays. 

It was Sunday today, which meant one more day until he could go back to school. Just one more day, and he’d have an escape from this house, and the stranger invading it. 

Rain hammered against the window faintly, serving as a backdrop.

Megumi, meanwhile, was shoving his books into his bag for monday, ensuring he wouldn’t forget anything. Tsumiki had always advised him to pack the night before, so he wouldn’t forget. 

He was hiding in his room. His fortress, badly defended, surrounded on all sides with the possibility of Toji Fushiguro.

The door opened with a soft groan, and in slid Tsumiki, who flopped down on his bed, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

Tsumiki rolled over onto her stomach, her groans muffled by the pillow. 

“I’m bored.” 

“And? What do you want me to do about that? Go do your homework.” He scolded, lightly whacking his older sister with his packed school bag. It collided against her side with a thud, with the weight of the books inside, before he set it down besides his desk.

Tsumiki gasped, before scrambling to her knees on the bed, reaching for the pillow. Without warning, she retracted her arm, and the pillow slammed into his face, bouncing off it, before landing on the floor. 

Megumi shot her a sharp, warning glare. 

“What? You started it!” 

The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes before picking up the pillow. He patted down the creases of the pillow cover before placing it back onto the bed. 

“And I don’t wanna do homework…” The girl huffed, as if she were a petulant child. 

Megumi crept out of his room, avoiding the groaning floorboards to make sure Toji was still asleep. As he glanced over his shoulder, he saw the sight of Toji- draped across the sofa again, and with no blanket to cover him. He really was going to end up sick. Good for Toji, though. 

“Shouldn’t we buy him a bed?” Tsumiki muttered eventually, cupping a hand around her mouth as Megumi entered the room, closing the door cautiously behind him.

“H e’s the adult. He’s the one who’s meant to be paying for things like furniture. Not us. ” 

“But-” Megumi held up a hand, silencing her. 

“But nothing. Where would we even put it? There’s no space in our rooms- you know that.” 

Tsumiki sighed, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“Fine, fine. Guess you have a point.” 

His older sister shifted off of the bed until she was on the floor on her knees, tilting her head to the side, catching a glimpse of under her younger brother’s bed. Her hands were outstretched, reaching into the unknown below Megumi’s bed. 

“Watch out. There might be spiders,” He taunted, the corners of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement. He knew that Tsumiki hated spiders.

“Shut up!”

The girl remained there for a while, before grunting as she stretched her hand further, reaching for something. Eventually, Tsumiki pulled out something coated in a thick layer of dust. She raised the box before blowing on it. Dust scattered, causing Megumi to cough into his closed fist. 

“Don’t do that without warning.” 

Tsumiki huffed. “‘Don’t do that without warning,’” She repeated, raising her voice an octave, “Shut up.” 

Megumi clicked his tongue, an insult perched on the tip of it. But the box in her hands caught his interest. 

“What’s that?” 

“What I was looking for. Monopoly,” She turned to her younger brother with a wide grin. “Let’s play!” 

“You want to play Monopoly. Now. Are you serious?” 

“Yep!” 

The Monopoly board remained untouched for years, shoved under his bed. Forgotten. Discarded. But Megumi still remembered sitting on Tsumiki’s bed, playing the game with her once she had finished her homework all those years ago. 

It would be nice to do something together again- just the two of them. 

“Well. Alright, then, I suppose,” He muttered, scratching the back of his head. Tsumiki thought that the gesture was something awfully similar to what Toji does, but she didn’t say it outloud. 

Tsumiki swiped at the rest of the dust with her palm. Megumi settled onto the floor as the girl removed the top of the box, revealing the board. The two of them set up the game- bringing out the tokens, organising the money into piles.

“Do you still remember how to play?” Megumi asked.

“Remember how much you’d lose? Of course I do.”

Tsumiki smirked, and leaned back on her hands. 

Megumi huffed at her remark, wrinkling his nose.“...That was before.” 

“Yeah. And I’ll still beat you now.”

Megumi and Tsumiki sat cross-legged on the floor. The carpet beneath them; the board between them. They were surrounded by neat piles of money and property cards. Megumi was carefully considering each move, while Tsumiki’s eyes sparkled with excitement. 

Early in the game, Megumi bought a few properties, choosing to play it safe. The same way he did, all those years ago. Tsumiki, however, took chances, snatching up every property she landed on, as she always did. She snorted when she completed a set, before quickly began building houses.

 “You’re going to regret letting me have these,” she teased, stacking tiny red houses along her properties. 

The game progressed. Counters moved. Piles of money shrunk. Megumi found himself landing on Tsumiki’s spaces more and more, struggling further with each payment. 

And without warning, the door opened with a groan, both of their heads snapping up in the direction of the noise. 

“Yo. What’s goin’ on here?” Toji muttered gruffly, peeking out from behind the door, his gaze darting between the board and their faces. 

Great. Just great. 

“We’re playing Monopoly!” Tsumiki answered cheerfully; grinning. 

Toji stepped into the room, shutting the door with his foot behind him. He sat on the edge of Megumi’s bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Uh? What’s that?”

“It’s a board game. Oh, and by the way, Megumi- you have to give me the money.”

Megumi glanced down at the board. His counter was placed on the hotel-lined Boardwalk, he let out a long, drawn-out sigh, before he reluctantly handed over a pile of cash. “You’ve got me cornered,” he grumbled, feeling a flicker of irritation.

“I won again!” Tsumiki declared, clutching the stack of cash close to her chest as he cheered. 

Toji smiled fondly at the sight. His two children, playing board games.

“So. How’d ya play?” 

“It’s simple. You buy properties, build houses and hotels, and try to make the others go bankrupt.”

Toji raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like real life.”

Megumi hummed, shuffling the Chance cards. “Except here, it's all is just part of the game.”

Tsumiki held up the dice. “You roll, move your token, and if you land on an unowned property, you can buy it. If it’s owned, you pay rent.”

Toji leaned forward. “What if I land somewhere expensive?”

“You need money,” Megumi said. “Or you might have to mortgage or sell your properties.”

Tsumiki nodded. “You want to save for the expensive spots like Boardwalk. They’re the most powerful if you build hotels.”

Toji picked up the top hat token, spinning it on his finger. “So, buy everything and bankrupt you two?”

“Basically,” Tsumiki said with a grin. “But you’ll have to trade and negotiate too.”

Megumi rolled his eyes. “Watch out-she’s ruthless.”

Toji cracked his knuckles. “Alright, let’s see if I can beat you.”

Tsumiki placed her token on Go. “Try not to go to jail on your first turn.”

Toji settled down onto the carpet, the three of them now sat in a triangle.

The money was stacked. The tokens lined up at Go. Tsumiki took the thimble, Megumi the dog, and Toji, with a smirk, took the top hat.

“Ready to lose?” Toji grinned, rolling the dice with a flick of his wrist. 

“Oh, please. I doubt you’ve ever played the game before,” Came the response, somewhere to his right. 

The top hat clattered across the board, landing him on a prime property. He bought it without hesitation, tossing the cash casually- like he did when he gambled.

Megumi sniffed, eyeing Toji’s shrinking pile of cash. “You’ll regret that later,” he muttered, moving the dog token with careful precision. He landed on a cheap property and bought it, wetting his lip. 

Tsumiki giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t let him get to you, Megumi. It’s just a game.”

Toji leaned back on his arms, a lazy grin skittering across his features. “That’s what people say when they’re losing.”

Laughter punctuated the clatter of dice and the slap of cards. But Megumi didn’t like this- not one bit. This was a game that was for Tsumiki and him, and only them. It had only been a couple days, and yet, here Toji was, sliding back into their lives; invading it. 

Tsumiki’s thimble went around the board. Along the way, she collected a modest set of properties, balancing risk-taking and risk-avoiding perfectly. Then, his older sister traded with her younger brother for a colour set, her eyes bright with mischief.

Megumi’s focused remained unwavering. He wasn’t planning on losing, not this time. He calculated every move, brow furrowed, fingers drumming along the edge of the board. When Toji landed on his hotel, Megumi’s lips twitched in satisfaction, almost a smile.

“That’ll be six hundred.”

Toji whistled, handing over the cash from his stack. “You’re ruthless, kid.”

Tsumiki watched, biting down on her tongue to suppress a smirk. “He learned from the best,” she said, glancing at Toji. 

Toji leaned forward. “Yeah? And who’s that?” 

“Me, of course,” Tsumiki declared haughtily, wrinkling her nose.

Toji snickered softly, and swatted her arm lightly while grinning. “Attagirl. You show him.”

Tsumiki beamed. 

A stab in Megumi’s gut. The corners of Megumi’s lips pulled into a frown. It wasn’t jealousy- don’t be stupid. Why *would* he be jealous? Megumi didn’t care about what Toji said to who. He just didn’t like how sweet he was acting with Tsumiki- as if those six years without him had never happened. That’s what that stab was. 

The mood shifted as the game dragged on. Toji had an abundance of properties, but his pile of cash was shrinking. Out of sheer desperacy, he tried to bluff his way through trades. “I’ll give you this railroad and Boardwalk if you give me your last orange,” he offered Tsumiki, a hopeful glint at the edge of his words.

She shook her head, feigning innocence. But the twitching of her lips betrayed her amusement. “Nice try. I know what you’re up to.”

Megumi rolled his eyes. “You two are impossible.”

The game continued. Alliances shifted, lines were drawn, everyone choosing which side they were on. Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged whispered strategies, plotting to take down Toji. The room filled with the sound of dice, laughter, and the occasional groan of defeat.

Finally, Megumi won. His dog was perched atop a row of hotels. Megumi scratched the back of his head, before a grin broke out onto his features. He was smiling, and it was a sight Toji wanted to see more often. 

“Nice,” Toji nodded, already gathering the dice, “Rematch?” 

“No,” Megumi responded without hesitation. 

“Maybe another time,” Tsumiki piped up from Toji’s left, “And even a different game?” 

The raven-haired boy hummed, the sound flat and lazy. “Sure,” He said, but he didn’t mean it. And Toji wouldn’t know that- he couldn’t read Megumi, and Megumi couldn’t read him, either. 

They were basically strangers to each other.

Without warning, Toji stood to his feet, heading towards the door.

“Where- where are you going?” Megumi’s older sister asked. A hint of fear coloured her tone. Her gaze remained fixed on the back of Toji’s head as he shrugged on his coat, newly bought from the store. She wet her lip.

“Out. You’ll see,” Toji offered a wink, glancing over his shoulder. Megumi didn’t like the way Toji’s gaze lingered, as if memorising them, memorising their faces, just in case he left.

Maybe it was meant as a joke, but Megumi took it as a promise. 

Maybe this was it, and maybe Megumi was right all along. Toji had just come to leech off of them for a couple of nights, before leaving his children- again. Megumi wouldn’t be surprised. After coming back to them, he was tempted to leave them again, just because Tsumiki was crying. 

What had he even done for them? Tsumiki’s birthday had passed- he did nothing. Not even buy her a card for fifty pence, hadn’t even payed for their shopping- almost as if the roles were reversed, and Toji was the child, and him and Tsumiki were the adults. 

If this was it, then so be it. Their life could finally go back to the two of them, Tsumiki and Megumi- like it was always meant to be. 

Toji unlocked the door. 

Tsumiki’s hand hovered mid-air, as if she could pull him back in, convince him not to leave- not without them, anyways. Her lips parted. The same words that were perched on the tip of her tongue died on them. Megumi watched, helplessly. 

As Toji slid out of the door with a slam, shooting the door behind him with his foot, Megumi’s heart dropped down, down, into his stomach. He might never get it back. A stab in his gut. 

This was it. 

“Do- do you think he’s coming back?” Tsumiki spoke up, somewhere to his left. The voice in his head urged him to rub it in her face; claim that he was right all along. But that was cruel. So for her sake, he said: 

“...I-I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

Seconds bleeded into minutes. 

Tsumiki sat on the sofa, her leg jittering as she balanced her homework folder on her lap, causing the folder to rattle, the faint ticking of the clock mingling with it.

Megumi watched, helplessly.  

A silence stretched over them, hanging in the air, clotting it. The same words that were perched on the tip of his tongue died on them. The boy couldn’t offer any words of reassurance at this moment. Because how could words help now? 

So they waited. And waited. And waited. 

The knot in his stomach twisted and twisted, chasing its own tail, refusing to settle. 

Toji had left them- or was it too early to say that? 

And Megumi knew he would all along. But faced with it now, it didn’t feel like the victory he thought it would. 

It was more like a stab to his heart, quickly overshadowed by the anger. Winding up his spine. Thrumming in his veins. 

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, Tsumiki,” He blurted out. The words were perched on the tip of his tongue, rolling off of it. It’s too late to stop now.

“We- no, you shouldn’t have let him in. You brought this on yourself. You know what he’s like.” 

Tsumiki’s leg stopped jittering, feeling a flicker of irritation. And yet, she said nothing. 

But Megumi needed someone to lash out on, and Tsumiki was closest in range. So he kept pushing. 

“You expect me to feel sorry for you? Huh? Do you? Do you really? I can’t believe you, crying over a man who wouldn’t even think twi-” 

Tsumiki slapped her hand against her folder. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up. I don’t wanna hear it from you! Don’t you think I want a break? Don’t you think I’m tired of being the adult, looking after you? Looking after us? ” She snapped, shooting him a sharp glare.

Megumi clenched his jaw. The voice in his head urged him on, calling to his deepest desires. Megumi didn't resist.

"Can't accept it that he's left again like like he always would, that he never even lov-

Tsumihi's irritation swelled, spreading from her chest, winding up her spine. 

Without warning, Tsumiki's hand darted out, striking his ear. Megumi sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the cartilage sting and tingle in the aftermath.

Megumi's lips pulled into a tight, thin line.

He roughly yanked at the hair escaping Tsumiki's ponytail, dragging her forward. He struck her cheek- hard and sharp. The slap of skin against skin echoed through the room.

Tsumiki gritted her teeth. She wasn't backing down

Megumi seized the opportunity, roughly twisting her around, securing his arm around her, making her gasp for air. He kicked at her ankle, almost tripping her over.

Out of sheer desperacy, his older sister jerked her elbow back. It didn't matter where, or how the blow - just needed to connect.

And when it did, it connected to his stomach, earning a grunt from her younger brother.

He gasped. Pain bloomed; sharp and real. Tsumiki delivered a sharp kick, the heel of foot slamming into his knee cap. Once his arms loosened around his arms her, she turned around. Her hands seized his shoulders, shoving him bach, against the wooden floor with a thud.

His older sister's chest heaved with each ragged breath. But she didn't stop there.

Tsumiki stomped on his arm, driving it into the floor.

The anger that settled into her gut was surpassed by the way her heart clenched at the sight. Megumi, on the floor, her foot driving his arm into the floor. She drove her foot further, as if trying to squash the guilt.

A new icon fist secured around her gut, twisting and twisting. It was guilt, It only intensified as Megumi winced.

He saw the way Tsumiki wet her lip. Hesitance. An opening. He slapped her ankle harshly before shoving it off of him.

He stood to his feet, towering over Tsumiki. He locked his jaw, and rolled his shoulders.

Megumi's fingers bunched around the collar of Tsumiki’s shirt, drawing her in.

He raised a hand, faking a slap, before swinging at her stomach, sending her staggering back.

The boy yanked her forth by the hair once more, earning a yelp from his sister.

His older sister hissed, and dug her nails into her brother’s arm, leaving a trail of crescent shaped imprints along the bare skin. “Do you know? How hard it is, working and balancing school? Huh? Do you? Do you? ”

Her younger brother grunted, before delivering a slap to her face. Tsumiki dragged her nails along his arm after he slapped her across the ear.  

Then again. And again. And again.

“Working for us? So there's enough for us in the future?”

It was skin against skin, bone against bone as a barrage of attacks came his way. Punches. Slaps. Tugs at his hair. Pain bloomed everywhere- his arm, his cheek, his scalp- sharp and raw.

“I never asked for this! I never asked to have a brother to take care of! I never wanted this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! ” Tsumiki screamed, the words clawing at her throat. As he gazed at Tsumiki, the hurt evident in her expression, his heart lurched. What was he doing? This was his sister, the only person who had been there for his whole life. 

“Tsumiki! Tsumiki, I’m so-”

The door burst open, a figure looming by the door. A familiar pair of green eyes and mop of raven hair. “Kids, I’m ho- uh?” 

Toji blinked as he took in the sight. Megumi, without sparing his sister a second glance, released his hold on her and stepped away. 

“The hell happened here?” He barked out, his voice resounding through the room. Toji was…back?

“Nothing,” The two of them muttered. Megumi wet his lip, and Tsumiki rubbed her cheek.

At this, Toji grunted. 

“Whatever it was, I don’t wanna see any of that. Ya hear me?” 

Tsumiki ducked her head. Megumi wrinkled his nose.

“Understood.” 

He muttered, while Tsumiki said:

“Sorry.” 

The man stood at the door, raking a hand through his head after letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Whatever. Now come eat. I got takeaway.” 

Toji kicked off his shoes, sending them against the heater with a slam. They bounced off, settling on the floor. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it aside. Toji settled onto the sofa, bag clasped in his hand. He patted the spot beside him.

Megumi took Toji’s left; Tsumiki took his right. Megumi was so sure that Toji had left them for good- the way he phrased it, the way his gaze lingered on them, in case it might be the last time. That a night or two was all he needed to sort himself off before taking off and dumping them.

A new fist seizes his gut. This time, it’s guilt. Winding his insides further and further. 

All of that between him and Tsumiki could’ve been avoided.

Once he opened the container, the smell of spicy chicken wings infiltrated their nostrils, filling the house, causing Megumi’s stomach to grumble involuntarily, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Looks good, don’t it?” Toji asked with a grin.

Megumi hummed before nodding. Tsumiki, however, said nothing, her gaze remaining fixed ahead.

“It does.” 

Without warning, Toji reached for a chip, holding it before Megumi’s lips.

He reluctantly opened his mouth, catching the chip between his teeth. It was embarrassing, being fed like that. He wasn’t a child anymore. 

“Ya know,” Toji spoke up suddenly, turning to Megumi, as the boy took a wing. “Used to feed you stuff like this when you were a baby. Your ma was scared, thinkin’ it’s bad for ya, without all of ya teeth, and that.” 

Did he? Megumi didn’t remember. Those memories had been eroded by the waves of time. Despite that, he felt a tug at his heart, longing for happier memories to hold onto.

Toji chuckled quietly to himself. 

“You don’t remember?” 

“...No.” 

“Damn.” 

And Toji turns his head, taking the time to just look at him. Just really look at his son- the curve of his jaw, his long lashes, and Megumi’s hair, erratic and spiky. 

Megumi paused, mid-bite, feeling the weight of Toji’s gaze on him.

“Looking at me like that is making me feel self-conscious,” He mused, rubbing the back of his head.

Toji snorted, and shook his head. 

“Right, right. Sorry,” He turned his attention towards Tsumiki: “Is it good?” 

“Mhm. It’s good.” 

Toji leaned back against the sofa with a soft sigh. He decided that it wouldn’t be fair to just drop memories about Megumi’s mum, without telling Tsumiki anything about her.

“I remember the day I first met ya. Ya were a cute little kid- didn’t even reach my hip. Wide eyes and always smiling…ya look a lot like her.” He moved to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear- something he’d also done with her mother- not that Tsumiki would ever know it. 

“Is that so?” She muttered, more towards herself. Obviously, she knew. She saw it every time she glanced in the mirror. Her own face, so similar to her mother’s. So similar, it was as if she was just out of reach. Tsumiki chewed the rest of her food, before speaking up again: 

“And besides- I don’t think I’d want to remember much of her.” 

Toji hummed, before offering her a nod. 

“Yeah. I get that.” 

Tsumiki paused, her fingers sticky with sauce. Her gaze was focused ahead, as if she was thinking about something. 

“Yo,” Toji said, elbowing her lightly in the side, “Watcha thinkin’ about?” 

The girl’s shoulders tensed, and a short huff of laughter left her lips. 

“Oh, oh, it’s uh- it’s no-”

Megumi interjected: “So you weren’t planning on leaving us?” 

The man’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. 

“Uh? The hell are ya on about? Why-why’d I even plan on leaving you?” He spluttered, as if the idea of leaving them again was incredulous. Ironic, considering he had no issue walking away again as he saw Tsumiki crying. But Megumi held his tongue, waiting for him to finish.

“You’re my kids. My family. I’d never leave you. Not again. Not for anything,” He stated, his voice firm and unwavering. 

Tsumiki’s expression softened. Megumi continued to eye him, a hint of scepticism lurking in his gaze. 

With a sigh, Toji reached out, lightly stroking Megumi’s hair. 

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am.” 

At this, the boy’s heart pounded against his rib cage, as if trying to break free to get through to Toji.

Toji felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight. The voice in his head spoke up. Why was he warming up to Toji? The slightest affection didn’t make up for six years of neglect. It was head and heart pitted against each other.

The three of them continued to eat, a long silence stretching out between them. When Megumi was done, he headed to the kitchen to wash his hands. Toji followed behind, his arm darting out, his calloused fingers securing around Megumi's wrist.

“The hell did she do to you?”

Toji’s grip tightened involuntarily upon seeing the crescent shaped trail of imprints along his arm. 

Megumi said nothing, keeping his head ducked. He could list who said and did what, but he knew, deep down, he started it. The anger rooted within him didn't settle. Only when striking Tsumiki did it dissolve beneath his fingertips. Everything that had happened to him, he deserved it.

“Oi,” The man snapped, drawing Megumi's attention, “Are you hurt?” 

Clearly he wasn't- considering the scratches along his arm, and the steady thrum of pain throbbing from his arm where Tsumiki had dug her foot into.

“...I’m fine,” Came Megumi's response, eventually.

“Tch. You better be.” 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Toji awoke the next morning, rubbing his heavy eyelids. As he stood to his feet, he stretched, his shirt riding up. But there was no shuffling, no hushed whispers. The clock read 12:53. Today was Monday, which meant they were at school. And not home. 

The house felt quiet without them. Too quiet. 

Almost like that dark, dank prison cell where he was losing his mind. Now that he was in prison, without any substances to escape his thoughts, they’d all lead back to his wife. How happy she was, carrying Megumi in her arms for the first time. Megumi. His son. His blessing. And Tsumiki. He wondered what they looked like, what they were doing. There was a hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled with fleeting things like drugs or alcohol. 

He knew what he had to do. He had to get back to them. 

A few nights later, he had escaped, and was on the run.

The Zen’in clan wouldn’t exactly welcome him with open arms. Not like he cared, anyways. He wanted nothing to do with them, either. But he had no wife. The only people he had were two children whose faces he couldn’t even picture clearly, the same ones he had left all those years ago.

Maybe coming back to them was purely selfish. Maybe he just wanted a place to crash, without the fear of the police haunting him. Maybe his first priority was always himself, and always would be. He was just rotten and selfish and cruel and- 

So after dialing Shiu’s number from a telephone box (a phone would be too risky) he had eventually gotten a hold of Megumi and Tsumiki’s location. 

He didn’t even know if they’d let him in. He wouldn’t blame them. 

And then he knocked on the door. 

It was Megumi, glaring up at him. 

“What do you want?” He asked, his tone flat and uninterested. He really didn’t remember Toji. That felt like a punch in the gut.

“It’s me. Your dad,” Toji elaborated.

“You’re lying,” Megumi sneered, his tone oozing with malice, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown, “He wants nothing to do with me. Or us. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

It wasn’t the response he expected. He expected Megumi to scream at him, lash out, tell him to get lost. But Megumi really thought he wanted nothing to do with him, and that hurt more. 

The sight of Tsumiki crying on the floor irked him. He had forgotten just how much he hated that sound. And besides, he wasn’t even good at dealing with emotions. He couldn’t look after them properly. 

And so, he turned his back on them, his heart feeling as if it were torn in two by a blunt blade. But they were fine. They had each other, and they didn’t need him. 

But they were his kids. They were the whole reason he came back, right?

The neighbors had already begun to stir, their voices mingling together, but the concern in them was audible. With the way things sounded? Anyone would think Megumi was being robbed or murdered. If the police were called, handcuffs would be secured around his wrists, and he’d be dragged off to that same dark, dank cell. 

What would his wife think, abandoning his kids again? 

Toji entered the house and slammed the door shut with his foot, leaning his back against it.

Then, he cautiously approached the crying girl, scooping her into his arms, holding her fragile form close against his chest.

And so, he made his decision. He was staying. 

But now that they were gone, he had the whole day to himself. And he didn’t know what to do.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Megumi and Tsumiki hadn’t spoken properly since their fight yesterday. The boy cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

“Got everything you need?” He started. A peace offering, of some sort as he tugged at a loose thread on his blazer

Tsumiki nodded, with her bag dangling from her shoulder. “Yeah.”

Megumi felt a surge of relief. He slipped in the key, twisting it until the door unlocked. As the two of them stepped out, the wind tugged at their hair and clothes, causing goosebumps to erupt on their arms.

The pain from when Tsumiki had dug her foot into his arm was slowly subsiding. The two of them walked side by side in silence, their arms brushing together. 

“You should, uhm…do up- do up your zip. It’s cold.”

His older sister hummed. 

“I’m fine.” 

“I have maths today,” Megumi started quietly. 

At this, his older sister snorted, and shook her head. 

“Hate maths.”

He wanted to apologise, but the words that were perched on the tip of his tongue died on them.

So instead, the two of them parted in silence, Tsumiki turning away to enter the other entrance of the building, leaving Megumi to enter his.

The silence that stretched between them was suffocating.

Megumi glanced around, searching his form room for a free seat. The front seats were never chosen, or it’d mean being under Shoko’s eye. As Megumi was scanning the room, he caught sight of an empty seat, right where Junpei sat. But it wouldn't be his seat. Not anymore.

It felt wrong, sitting there. So instead, he chose the one right at the front, two free seats beside it.

He shrugged off his bag, dumping it into the ground, before hanging his coat on the back of his chair. 

Shoko, glancing up from her computer, nodded at him. 

Somewhere from the back of the classroom came hushed whispers and shuffling. When he turned his head, he was greeted by the sight of a familiar pink haired boy and ginger girl standing near the doorway, talking among themselves. 

Maybe they had friends in his form class and were trying to sneak in. It happened before. 

Yuuji offered a small wave, paired with his signature grin as he approached. 

“Heeyy! Megumi, man! Guess what? Guess what?” 

“Why on Earth are you here?” Megumi deadpanned, “You need to leave.”

“Oh,” Nobara muttered flatly, folding her arms across her chest, “It’s you.”

“Ah, yes. It’s you. You’re such a delight to be around, with your shrill, obnoxious voice, and your inability to keep your mouth shut,” Megumi scoffed, and turned his back on the duo. 

“Huh?” Kugisaki exclaimed, fingers bunching around his collar as she yanked him closer, “Say that again to me, I dare you!”

“Are you deaf? I said-”

Yuuji, ever the peacemaker, stepped in, tugging gently at the girl’s sleeve.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobara! Megumi! Relax, you guys!” 

Tension hung in the air as they continued to glare at each other.

“Ugh, whatever. I don’t waste my time on losers,” Nobara grumbled, releasing her hold on him. 

“Oh, like you’re so high and mighty,” He scoffed, “And anyways, back to my original question: why are you here?” 

“We got transferred!” Yuuji exclaimed, wiggling his fingers, “Ever since the Junpei bullying thing, they moved him to another form, away from the bullies,” Itadori felt the weight of Kugisaki’s gaze on him, his grin faltered, and he blinked. 

“...What?” 

“That-that hand-waving thing. Or the wiggling. Whatever! That’s gay as hell!”

“Huh?? How? I’m literally just wiggling my fingers!” 

The raven-haired boy nodded, “Are the walls of masculinity that you’ve structured are built around you so high you see a person wiggling his fingers and it’s immediately gay?” 

Nobara opened her mouth, then closed it, dumbfounded.

“Anyways!” Yuuji started up again, “So we did an exchange. Junpei left, so I took his spot. And Nobara!” 

“What does she have to do with any of this?” 

“Hey! I'm right here, ya know! Stop talking about me like I'm not!” The girl protested, pointing an accusatory finger towards Megumi, “And anyways- does it look like I wanna be in his class? The bullie’s a total creep! And I hate my form teacher. Or, my old one, or whatever.”

The door burst open, and a man stood before Shoko, a pile of papers in his arms. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, his hair neatly combed. “Heyy, Ijichi,” Shoko greeted, a wry grin skittered across her lips. 

“He-hello, Ieiri-san,” Ijichi muttered, abruptly clearing his throat. Shoko snorted, and waved a hand. 

“Why be so formal? Just call me Shoko. Relax.” 

“Ah, right. Of course. We’ve known each long enough. Not- not known , known. Does it make sense to say that? We’ve never been particularly close, I suppose. Hah, my a-” 

Shoko leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. 

“I get your point. You done yet?” 

Ijichi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing sharply, internally cursing himself for his bashfulness.

“Ri-right. Before I forget- here's the sheets you asked for.” He placed the pile down onto her desk, beside her monitor.

“Got all the worksheets printed out for me? Nice.”

Nobara turned to Yuuji on her right, and lowered her voice to a dramatic, hushed whisper. “Oh-ho, he totally has a crush on her!” 

Itadori’s eyes darted between the two. “Yeah? You think?” 

“Huh? What gives you the right to question me?” Kugisaki demanded, her eyebrows crinkling in confusion. “You don't know anything about love! Or girls!” 

“Hey! Not true! And anyways- what gives you the right to say that, huh? You've never even had a boyfriend!” The pink haired boy countered. 

“And who the hell said I'm interested in something so time-wasting, huh? All the guys here are UBSSD’s! Anyways- look at him. He's stuttering; blushing…He's totally smitten.” 

The boy blinked as it dawned on him.“Ohhh.” 

“Yeah, ohhh. I ship it.” Kugisaki remarked, earning a snicker from Itadori. Megumi simply rolled his eyes.

“Quite frankly, teachers' romantic lives are none of your concern,” Megumi spoke up without so much as sparing them a glance. 

“Oh, shut up! I didn’t ask for you to speak!” 

“And? I spoke anyways...” 

“You don’t have to be such a buzzkill about it, it’s just for fun.” 

“Yeah, relax, man,” Itadori chimed in, lazily propping his elbow up on the table. No need to take everything so seriously…”  

“Oh, oh. That means our timetables gonna be a bit different, right? ‘Cuz we have different classes and all that.”

“Oh yeah, no duh, sherlock,” Kugisaki grumbled, elbowing the pink haired boy in the side, earning a yelp from him.

“Shut up. Anyways, what lessons do we have?”

The raven-haired boy reached for his pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. Neatly folded, not wrinkled. He read out the first subject that appeared on his timetable. 

“History.” 

Itadori hummed, and Kugisaki groaned. 

A shrill, piercing sound cut through Shoko’s voice, signalling it was time for students to make their way to the first lesson. After shrugging on his coat and back, Megumi got up from his seat, doing just that. 

But the two of them weren’t talking to him anymore, since they didn’t need to. They walked ahead, their conversation punctuated by the occasional snort or snicker. 

Not like he cared, anyways. It was only for a mutually beneficial arrangement, and he knew that. Maybe one day he could ask for a favour, too, to make it even. 

Once the class had settled into their history, Megumi now found himself crammed between Kugisaki and Itadori. It seemed there was no escaping them.  All he could do was keep his head down and focus on the lesson. 

The boy was scribbling down the notes written on the board, until-

“Hey, hey. Psst. Psst. Yo, Nobara,” 

Yuuji muttered, cupping a hand around his mouth. And unfortunately, Megumi was stuck in between them. Nobara’s gaze was fixed ahead on the presentation on the whiteboard, her chin resting in her palm. 

Nobara ignored him. 

Itadori threw his head back with a dramatic groan, burying his face in his palms. Megumi rolled his eyes. 

The pink haired boy leaned back in his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. He reached out, tapping her shoulder.

She still ignored him. 

“Nobara! Kugisaki! Nobarraa!” 

Megumi shot the boy a warning glare.

“Kugisaki!” 

“What?” The girl finally snapped, “What the hell is so important that you gotta keep yapping like this?” 

The boy leaned over his desk, so Megumi leaned back. Yuuji slid a sheet of paper across to the girl, causing her to arch a brow. 

“So? Whaddya think?” He asked. 

She cupped a hand around her mouth, muffling her laughter.

“Wha-what is this?”  

“Our teacher, duh. But like, y’know- yassified. ” 

Nobara snorted, and an amused grin graced her features. 

“ That’s not yassified,” She said under her breath, popping the lid off of her pen, pressing it against the paper. Then, she began drawing around the lips, making them bigger, and drawing prominent cheekbones. 

“That’s perfect! Megumi. Megumi! You need to look!”

Megumi leaned over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the drawing. 

Their teacher was standing in front of the board, a marker poised between his fingers, “Megumi,” His teacher called out, snapping him out of his thoughts, “What year did the battle of Hastings happen?” 

“Uhm…” His gaze shifted to the board, squinting at the notes written down in blue marker, only to find nothing.

No no no…

He hadn’t been paying attention; too caught up in Yuuji and Nobara’s exchange.

He wet his lip slowly, before glancing down at his notes. He flipped the page, scanning the words. But nothing was mentioned about a date. 

“Psst. Yo, Megumi. It was 1666.” 

“No! No it wasn’t, idiot! That was the Great fire of London! Don’t listen to him!” The girl hissed, “I, uhm. It was, uh…” He trailed off, feeling the tips of his ears flush as he fumbled with responding. He felt the weight of his classmates gaze, and the muffled snickers. 

“It was actually 1066. Focus, Megumi. If I catch you again, it’ll be a detention after school.” 

When Itadori noticed the boy beside him was snickering at Megumi, he felt a pang of guilt. If he hadn’t distracted him, he wouldn’t have been in this situation. So, Yuuji delivered a sharp kick to him from under the table, earning a yelp from him. 

“Shut up, and stop laughing,” Itadori said through gritted teeth. 

Yuuji was always putting in more than it’s worth- from saying goodbye to him, and even defending him. And Megumi just couldn’t understand why. 

“Understood.”

“What if you want to work alone?” 

“Not possible.”

The boy groaned, and buried his face in his palms.

Megumi ducked his head before continuing with his work.

“Sooo…Megumi,” Yuuji called out, his tone sing-song. He drummed his fingers along the table, arching a brow playfully. Kugisaki snickered, somewhere in the background. 

The question went unsaid- he was obviously asking if he wanted to be part of their team for the assignment. He wanted to spare himself the awkwardness of being in a group with people he didn’t even know.

He couldn’t work alone. Really, he had no choice. 

“Ugh, fine.”

“Haha! Alright!” Yuuji cheered, pumping the air.

“We are not going over to my place,” Nobara declared.

“Uh? Why not?” 

“You really think you’re worthy of entering my house?” 

“Yeah, duh! We’ve known each for long enough!” He countered.

“Fat chance! Think again!” She scoffed, wrinkling her nose indignantly. 

“Fine. But no way in hell are we going over to my place!” 

“And why not??” 

“My brother’s gonna beat my ass, you idiot!” 

“Megumi’s place it is, then.” Kugisaki decided, shrugging. 

“Oh. Uhm, we- we can’t. My kitchen is currently…getting refurbished. It’s basically a living construction site.” He lied. The last thing he wanted was to bring his…acquaintances with Toji around. Megumi didn’t even want to imagine how that’d go.

“Okay, and? We’ll work in your living room.” 

“It’s dusty everywhere , moron.” Yuuji snorted.

“Shut up!” 

“Ugh, fine. Sukuna’s gonna throw a fit over this, though. Next week Friday it is, then.”

Chapter Text

Megumi, along with his classmates, and a few other form classes, were in the gym. The bench he was sitting on was flimsy, threatening to snap under his weight at any moment. The idle chatter and ecstatic cheers mingled together, rising higher and higher above each other. Benches were scattered across the gym for the students, but it wasn’t enough. Some, like Fushiguro, were sitting on the floor, the coldness of the floor seeping into his bare skin. 

Megumi hated the gym. It was crammed, loud, and the sweat hung thick in the air, clotting it.

“Watch out, though,” Kugisaki warned, drawing his attention.” The exchange students?” She jabbed a finger in the direction of the people sat on the bench opposite as the chatted among themselves, “Ruthless. Full of dirty tricks. They fight, and they fight hard. ”

“And…why are the exchange students here, again?” 

“Do you not pay attention? Wait, why am I even telling you this? Weren’t you here last year?” 

“I was…off sick.” 

He wasn’t. Truthfully, Gojo called in that day for both Megumi and Tsumiki, claiming they were sick and they’d come back to school as soon as they felt better. He used it as an excuse to skip school and take them out.

“Ugh, alright. Better explain it from the beginning, then. Every year, Saitama Urami East Secondary school and the West Secondary school have an annual sports competition. It’s all kinds of different sports to taste your stamina, your agility, how well your team works under pressure, and blah blah.” 

“It’s usually in the summer, but we have a lot of school trips at the end of this year, so we won’t be able to fit it in. So they moved it forward,” Yuuji chimed in. 

“And I hate, I hate the students from the West!”

Yuuji cupped a hand around his mouth, and nodded. 

“She seriously does.” 

“Masamichi and Gakujanji have like, some serious beef with each other. It’s not even that deep. Like, who even cares about something as dumb as that?” 

“It does matter!” Yuuji exclaimed, while Megumi muttered: 

“Well, academically, sports barely contribute, so…I see your point.”

“You only say that ‘cuz you’re a freak who drinks protein shakes with every meal!” 

“Huh? No I don’t! And anyways, aren’t you meant to be telling Megumi about the Sports Tournament?” 

“One last thing: the West Students are crazy. All kinda batshit stunts, so you need to watch out.”

“Oh, yeesh. Reminds me of that time last year that guy got his face beaten in ‘cuz Todo didn’t like his answer. Hah. But I’ve seen Megumi fight!” Itadori paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “Felt it, even. And anyways, he’s good. He can take whatever they throw at us- right?” He asked, glancing at the raven-haired boy for confirmation. 

“Talking about me as if I’m not there makes me thoroughly uncomfortable. But to answer your question? Yes. I’m capable.” 

“Hey! That’s the spirit!” He cheered, punching the air. 

“Hell yeah! We’re not losing to no punks this year!” Kugisaki held up a hand, signalling for a high-five. Yuuji accepted. 

Meanwhile, the students from Satami Urami West Secondary School were chatting and giggling among themselves. 

“Who’s that one?” Mai asked with a smirk, pointing at Megumi, “Didn’t see him last year.” 

“Oh, shut up, Mai. We know you love your twinky-winkies,” Todo snorted, elbowing her in the side playfully. 

“Shu-shut up! At least I don’t have the most generic taste in women ever!” 

“Take that back! Takada-chan is a beautiful woman who cannot be described in words alone, and-” 

Mai held up a hand, silencing him. 

“Enough about Takada. Go see what he’s like. What kinda woman he’s into.”

As Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi were talking, a student from the other side of the gym approached. 

“I’m Aoi Todo, Year 9. I don’t care for your name. Introduction’s over.” His hair scraped back into a bun; his arms folded across his chest as he gazed down at the two. “But before we start- what kinda woman’s your type? If I don’t like your answer, I’m beating you to death, right here!” 

Both Kugisaki and Fushiguro blinked. The raven-haired eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“Why- why would I want to discuss my type with someone I just met?” He spluttered, his tone incredulous. Maybe it was a common conversation starter- something he would know if he had friends.

“Especially with this guy. He’s seriously anti-social.”

“Please don’t talk and make this any harder than it already is.”

“Answer my question,” After a pause, Todo added: “If you like men, that’s fine, too.”

That earned a snicker from Kugisaki, which made Megumi sigh.

“So, tell me, then. What kinda woman is your type?”

“Is this a joke? I don’t have a particular preference. As long as one has unshakeable character, I won’t ask for more.”

“Not a bad answer!” She exclaimed, punching his arm, causing him to grunt, “If you said ‘big boobs?’ I’d have killed you.”

“...Shut up.”

Todo saw it, then. The two of them- him and Megumi in the library, a stack of books on the table. Megumi leaned over Todo’s shoulders, underlining one of his answers with his pen. 

“You got that wrong.” 

“Huh? How?” Todo exclaimed, his gaze darting between the answer and Megumi, “The hell you mean, ‘I got it wrong?’” 

The raven-haired boy sighed; pinched the bridge of his nose, before explaining himself again, Todo nodding along as he understood. 

“So, whaddya think of Takada-chan?” Todo prompted, leaning forth in his seat.

“Who? That girl you showed me?” 

“What do you mean, that girl!? She isn’t any ordinary girl- no no. She’s a k-pop singer. She has a stunning vocal range, and stunning looks to match it. Any guy with taste would be blinded by her beauty.

Megumi hummed in response, the sound flat and lazy. “Honestly?” Megumi muttered, his chin propped up lazily in his palm on the desk of the empty classroom, “While I do agree she’s attractive, personally? She’s not my type. She’s unattainable. I, myself, prefer aiming for someone I have a decent chance with.” 

“Huh? Are you implying she’s unattainable? That I don’t have a chance with her?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Todo tossed his empty carton of apple juice at the boy’s head, bouncing off of it before landing on the floor beside his foot. Megumi simply arched a brow.

The end of his vision. The friendship that could’ve been. 

Salty tears traced down Todo’s face, his expression contorting into disgust.

“I knew it. You’re boring, man.”

Todo was on him in a second. Megumi didn’t have time to react as he was shoved back, sending his body slamming against the floor with a sickening crunch. 

“I knew you were a boring guy, but now you’ve gone and trampled on my kindness!”

As he lifted his head, pain shot through his body, and his head throbbed. 

But Todo was far from done. 

“I’m not finished with you.”

Fingers bunched around Megumi’s collar as Todo roughly yanked Megumi to his feet, making him stand again. His heart was thumping erratically against his ribcage, threatening to break free. 

Todo launched a heavy jab. Megumi managed to slip aside at the last second. 

“You’re flimsy, and shallow.”

It was skin against skin, bone against bone as a barrage of punches came his way. The crack of knuckles carried by the wind. Pain bloomed everywhere- his jaw, his cheek, his temple- sharp and raw. 

Frustration flickered across Todo’s features as he glared down at him, his fist raised. 

“This is just pathetic! Man up! Fight back!” 

And so, Megumi rolled his shoulders. He turned his head, spitting out blood on the floor. 

“Been a long time, innit?” The girl remarked, planting her hand on her hip, drawing Nobara’s attention. 

As Nobara’s head snapped around in the direction of that voice, she was greeted by the familiar sight of hazel eyes, paired with a ridiculous haircut. 

“Ugh. It’s you again,” Nobara groused, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “Seriously, what the hell’s up with that haircut? You ever been to a hairdressers? Or do you just cut it yourself while taking inspo from Kagami from Miraculous?”

Mai blinked, stunned by the comment. She had chopped her hair off one day with nothing but a pair of scissors and strong impulses. She didn’t even look in the mirror while doing it, but it couldn’t be that bad. 

“Its- it’s better than that fuck ass bob!” The older girl spluttered weakly. 

“Huh? The hell are you on about? Nothing’s wrong with my hair! Bob cuts are cute and trendy!” The girl paused, her gaze lingering on Mai’s features, trying to pick out a flaw to counter with: “Just- just look at you and your open pores! You got a massive zit right above your upper lip! And your sister’s a hundred times prettier than you!”

Mai’s left eye twitched. She hated, hated being compared to her sister. But now, she wasn’t going to let that slide.

Without warning, rough hands gripped Kugisaki’s shoulders, shoving her to the ground. Nobara grunted, and tried to pull herself up into a sitting position. Mai pounced on Nobara, her lips curled into a sneer, exposing her sharp, canine-like teeth. 

“Get. Off. Me,” She grunted, writhing and squirming under Mai’s hold, “You bitch!” 

“Eat dirt, you slag!”

“I’m staying out of this, Kugisaki!” Yuuji remarked from somewhere by the benches. He knew better than to get involved. 

Nobara gritted her teeth. Mai continued to pin her against the floor of the gym, palms digging roughly into her shoulders. Her shoulder blades were pressed up against the hard floor, digging into it. The ginger-haired girl delivered a sharp kick to Mai’s stomach, sending the girl staggering back with a gasp. 

Nobara seized the opportunity. 

Mai dragged her nails along Kugisaki’s arm, drawing blood, causing Nobara to hiss. In turn, she dragged her nails along Mai’s face, nails catching flesh. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Megumi struggling. She needs to shake off Mai, and help him.

Nobara shifted her weight, then dashed forward, aiming a low kick at Mai’s knee. Mai caught her ankle and twisted, trying to bring Nobara down. Nobara twisted free, and landed a sharp elbow to Mai’s shoulder.

Then, she darted forward, targeting Mai’s solar plexus with a hard blow. Mai grunted, doubling over, but caught Nobara’s wrist and twisted, wrenching her arm back painfully. Nobara cursed loudly, feeling her arm twist further, and further. Mai twisted Kugisaki around, driving her palm into Kugisaki’s sternum, snatching the air from her lungs, making her wheeze, sending her crashing to the floor once more.

Mai closed in, her fist raised for the final blow. 

Todo’s fist darted out, almost connecting to Megumi’s eye.

Seizing the opportunity, Megumi sunk his teeth into Todo’s arm to create an opening. Further, further, waiting for the copper tang on his tongue. Todo pulled back, saliva glistening along the area the boy had sunk his teeth into.

It didn’t matter. All that he was focused on was the thrumming in his veins, the buzzing in his ears, and the copper tang on his tongue. 

“Ew. Gross! Are you some kinda animal?” 

Megumi didn’t answer that. He simply swiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

This was it. This was his opening. He had to make it count.

His fist connected to Todo’s diaphragm, causing the taller boy to stagger back, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at Megumi. 

Kugisaki scrambled to her feet, making an escape. Now that Kugisaki had shaken off Mai, she lunged at Todo. She secured her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Without warning, she clawed at his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she yanked him back, their bodies slamming against the floor. 

“Get- get off me! ” 

“Shut up!” The girl barked, tugging at his hair until it came loose, grazing his shoulders.

“Get him! Get him, Megumi!” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. Kugisaki managed to slip away just in time. Fushiguro pounced on him. Aiming for all the weak spots, he landed blows to his jaw, his ribs, his throat, his knuckles throbbing with the impact; his vision swimming, his stomach churning. 

A hand was offered to him. He blinked, and rubbed an eye wearily, before accepting that hand. 

“You gave a pretty good answer,” she said, peering down at him through her glasses as she pulled him to his feet, “And damn, the ass beating that followed was brutal. Pretty uncalled for,” 

“Pretty uncalled for is an understatement…” He muttered under his breath, his head throbbing from where it slammed into the floor. He tentatively raised two fingers to the spot, grazing it to check for blood.

But he recognised those glasses and green hair. 

There were two boys beside her. One with dark rings under his eyes and raven hair, and the other with white hair and a mask. The boy with white hair turned to the raven-haired boy, signing something.

“Ah. I see. Inumaki here wants to know if you’ve still got all your insides. He’s mute, and he can’t speak, so I’ve been learning sign language.” 

It was a lot of information for Megumi to process in this state, but he nodded anyways.

“My…my insides? Well, yes. I assume so. I don’t see what that has to do with anything…” 

“He’s basically asking if you’re alright,” Yuuta elaborated, rocking on his heels. Inumaki shrugged, before nodding. 

“Oh. Oh. I see. In that case, I suppose so. I’ve had worse.” 

“You’re not feeling light-headed, or nauseaous, or…?”

“Hmm. Not that much,” He lied. 

“Oh. It’s you,” Megumi muttered, rubbing his head once he remembered Maki’s name. 

“Yeah, oh. Pretty rude to address your elders like that, though.” 

“Well. How else am I supposed to address you? I don’t know your name.” 

“It’s Maki.” 

“I see. Uhm…thank- thank you. For that.” 

“For helping you up? Nah, don’t mention it. Good fight you put up. Most people just get bodied in fights with Todo.” 

“...Thank you.” 

The girl simply shrugged, before walking off back to her year group.

Utahime had finished attending the meeting hosted by Masamichi and Gakujanji, mainly just petty bickering between the two of them, and was glad to have gotten free when she did. 

She clapped her hands, signalling it was time for the event to commence. 

“Everyone, line up. Single file!” 

The students reluctantly shuffled into single file lines. Nobara tugged at Megumi’s sleeve, yanking him forth. She whispered to him about all the exchange students, pointing out a particular student with blue hair. 

“That’s Miwa, over there. She’s pretty cute. She’s nice, trust me. That means no dirty tricks- unlike Mai. ” 

“What’s that? Wanna go again?” Mai shouted, somewhere from across her line. Kugisaki really needed to learn to keep her voice down. 

Yuuji shook his head frantically as he looked at Megumi, meaning that Itadori wasn’t intervening, this time. Leaving Megumi to do it. Great. 

“Alright, alright. Break it up.” He groused with his hands shoved in his pockets, shooting the both of them sharp glares.

Then, he turned to the pink haired boy beside him. 

“So, why aren’t you intervening? It seems like you typically pride yourself on being a peacemaker, no?” 

“Yeah. Usually. Have you even see the way they fight? There’s biting! And scratching! One time, Kugisaki ripped a girl’s earlobe by pulling at her earring in a fight. But that was after that bully dragged Nobara across the gym floor by her tie!  I do not wanna get caught up in that!”

Megumi blinked, and wet his lip. 

“Oh. That…that’s valid.”

Their teammates had arrived at the park, the damp blades of grass crushing beneath their feet as they walked.

The sun’s rays were obscured by the clouds surrounding it. Everything was scattered across the makeshift baseball diamond. 

Today was the day of the baseball match- held once every year. their usual battles. The teams, decided by a chaotic round of rock-paper-scissors, were set: Yuuta, Maki, Yuuji, Momo, and Mechamaru versus Mai, Todo, Kamo, Miwa, Megumi, and Nobara.

The dugouts were little more than benches under a sprawling tree, but tension hung thick in the air, clotting it. Yuuta, cap pulled low, took the mound first. Yuuji crouched behind home plate, grinning at Todo, who swaggered up to bat.

“Let’s see if your pitching is as good as your badminton, Yuuta!” Todo boomed, flexing his arms.

Yuuta rubbed the back of his neck, followed by a short huff of laughter.

Yuuta rolled his shoulders, and strengthened his stance. The first pitch zipped in. Todo swung hard, sending the ball zooming toward left field. Maki sprinted towards it, keeping her eyes trained on the ball. She leapt, and snagged it out of the air, landing with a triumphant grin.

“Out!” Yuuji called, pumping his fist. As Maki ran by Yuuji, he saluted her. 

Mai was next, tapping her bat against her shoe. She eyed Yuuta sharply, and connected with a sharp line drive. The ball shot toward second base, where Mechamaru, surprisingly nimble, scooped it up and fired to first. Momo caught it cleanly.

“Two outs!” Momo cheered.

Miwa stepped up, determination etched on her face. She adjusted her helmet and took a deep breath.

“Come on, Miwa! You got this!” 

“We believe in you!” 

“Don’t let them win!” 

 Yuuta’s pitch came in fast. Miwa swung—and missed. Strike one. She steadied herself, focused. The next pitch, she made contact, sending a grounder toward shortstop. Megumi, quick as ever, fielded it and threw to Momo at first. But Momo’s foot was just barely on the bag as Miwa reached it.

“Safe!” called Yuuji, acting as umpire.

Miwa flashed a relieved smile. Megumi was up next, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. Yuuta pitched, and Megumi sent a pop fly into shallow center field. Yuuji, abandoning his catcher’s mask, sprinted out and made a diving catch. Miwa, caught off base, tried to scramble back to first, but Mechamaru tagged her out just in time.

“Double play!” Maki whooped. “Miwa and Megumi are both out!”

The Kyoto team groaned as Miwa and Megumi trudged off the field, eliminated for the rest of the inning, and the teams swapped sides.

He was happy to stand aside. He didn’t see the point in contributing towards something he didn’t care about. During some point later in the match, the second person who was eliminated was a girl with striking blue hair, approaching him. The two stood side by side, a long silence stretching between them. 

Eventually, she decided to break that silence as she abruptly cleared her throat. 

“Is- is, uh…your hair. Is your hair naturally spiky?” A voice spoke up, somewhere to his side. There was a girl standing beside him, leaning against the barbed wire, the baseball hat she was wearing clutched in her hand.

“Is your hair naturally blue?” Fushiguro countered eventually, unsure of how to answer that question. 

“Oh! Well, no, actually,” She started tugging at a loose strand of her hair absently, twirling it around her finger “I, uhm, dyed it blue,” She muttered in response, rocking on her heels, unable to meet his gaze. 

Something was different about her. She wasn’t full of energy and blinding optimism like Yuuji, making it hard to keep up with him. She wasn’t full of snarky quips and didn’t provoke confrontations like Kugisaki (which made her off putting, in his opinion.) 

She was eerily calm. But it was a nice change of pace. 

What should he talk about? Maybe say something about her hair, since it was the last thing they were talking about. 

“It’s an interesting colour. It reminds me of the sky,” He croaked awkwardly, tugging at a loose thread on his shirt. But he was trying. 

“Oh. Well, uhm. Thank you! I was actually struggling to pick between a few colours…” 

He felt a surge of relief as she trailed off. She was struggling with this, too. He wasn’t alone in this.

“I’m just…not really good with these things, I suppose, hah. They don’t call me ‘useless Miwa’ for nothing!” She ranted, frantically twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

For once, he found himself willingly interacting with someone. “Useless? How so?”

“I’ve never been good with things. I’m mediocre at most things I try,” After a pause, she decided to change the topic, 

“I’ve…never really seen you around. Although, I suppose, I’m not the most popular.” 

“I assume that’s because I tend to keep to myself, so I don't have friends.”

“Seriously?” Miwa spluttered, her tone incredulous,  “You don’t?” 

“Not at all. Why?” 

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“No.” 

The girl paused, unsure of how to continue the conversation. So she went back to the basics. 

“So. Then, uhm…what’s your name?” 

“Megumi. And yours?” 

“I’m Miwa. Miwa Kasumi. Sorry. I get a little awkward, sometimes. I never really know what to say when I meet new people…” 

“Tch. Social cues are the worst. There’s so many unspoken rules I can never grasp.” 

“Exactly! I always feel so stupid when I don’t follow them. Which happens all the time, because I don’t know them.” 

“You’re surprisingly tolerable,” Fushiguro muttered, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully, “Everyone else is too loud, too annoying. You’re not like that.”

“Really? I’m glad. I think my awkwardness pushes people away.” 

“...I don’t see it as off-putting. To me, it’s comforting. I’m awkward, myself.” 

A grin graced her features as she snickered. 

“I can tell.” 

“Was that an insult?” Megumi huffed as he arched a brow, but the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. 

“N-no. No,” the girl held her hands up in a placating gesture as she shook her head. I didn’t mean it like-” 

She was interjected by Megumi’s laugh, brief and fleeting, with Miwa joining in. A conversation that wasn’t for mutually beneficial purposes. Someone who wasn’t too loud, too confrontational. This was…nice. 

Now it was Yuuta’s team’s turn to bat, and the two of them parted, with Miwa waving goodbye. Yuuji stepped up, rolling his shoulders, facing Kamo on the mound. Kamo’s pitch came in low; Yuuji swung and missed. Nobara, catching, snickered, “Strike one! Come on, Itadori, impress us!”

Yuuji grinned, focused on the next pitch, and connected, sending a grounder to Todo at second base. Todo fielded it smoothly and threw to Mai at first- just beating Yuuji

Maki was next, her stance solid and determined. Kamo pitched, and Maki sent the ball high into right field. Nobara dashed after it, but it dropped just out of reach. Maki rounded first and slid into second, safe.

Miwa tepped up, her nerves rigid and tense. She swung at the first pitch, missing entirely. The second pitch she connected with, sending a gentle pop fly toward Kamo at shortstop. He caught it easily, two outs.

Mechamaru was up, and he watched the ball carefully. Kamo pitched, and Mechamaru dashed, surprising everyone. The ball dribbled down the third baseline. Mai charged, scooping it up and firing to first, but Mechamaru’s calculated sprint got him there just in time.

Yuuta was up, runners on first and second. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. Kamo pitched, and Yuuta swung hard. The ball sailed into center field, where Todo, determined not to be outdone, ran full tilt and dove for the catch. He snagged it mid-air, rolling to a stop and holding the ball up triumphantly.

“That’s three outs!” Todo shouted, grinning from ear to ear.

The game continued, inning after inning, each team giving their all. Todo’s power was matched by nothing but Maki’s reflexes in the outfield. Yuuji’s speed made him great on the bases, stealing second with a dramatic slide that left him covered in dirt. Mai’s pitching was steady and reliable, while Kamo’s fielding was sharp and instinctive.

With Miwa and Megumi eliminated after that double play, their team had to adjust. Nobara, never one to back down, took over as shortstop, barking orders and rallying her teammates. “Come on, we can still win this!” she cheered, pumping her fist.

There were moments of chaos—like when Mechamaru’s mechanical arm detached mid-throw, sending both the ball and his forearm flying in opposite directions, or when Nobara tried to distract Yuuta by chanting, “Strike out, strike out!” only to be distracted by a butterfly and miss the catch.

Laughter echoed across the field, the competitive edge softened by the sheer joy of the game. Yuuta and Kamo, both quieter than the others, found themselves swept up in the excitement, high-fiving after every good play. Even Kamo, usually reserved, couldn’t suppress a smile when he managed a double play with Todo.

The score was tied. Bottom of the ninth, two outs, bases loaded. Yuuji stood at bat, determination etched on his face. Kamo pitched, Yuuji swung—and the ball soared, a perfect arc toward the outfield fence.

Maki and Todo sprinted after it, but it dropped just beyond their reach. The runners scored, and Yuuji’s team erupted in cheers, rushing the field to celebrate.

Chapter Text

Yuuji’s team celebrated their victory. Well, everyone but Megumi, at least. They were huddled around each other, giggling and making comments about the team who lost. He distinctly heard Nobara admit she feels sorry for Yuuta being on the Kyoto team, ‘stuck with those losers.’ 

“You’re not going to celebrate with your team?” A voice spoke up. Megumi turned his head, and wrinkled his nose indignantly. He could’ve sworn he’s seen those dark rings and long fringe, partially obscuring an eye somewhere… 

“No. I’m not. I don’t care for this event, and they don’t care for me. It makes no difference- not that it matters to you.”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture, and shook his head. 

“Oh, I- I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just…curious, is all,” He explained, offering a small smile. It made Megumi’s frown falter. 

“So then. Why aren’t you with your team?” 

“I could celebrate with them. If I chose to. But they’re not really my team. And besides, I was more curious about you.” 

“I see.” 

Yuuta awkwardly wrung his hands. Megumi decided he was like Miwa, and far more tolerable than any of the others. 

Then, Yuuta decided to hold out his hand, presenting a water bottle to Megumi. 

“What’s this for?” 

“To drink.” 

“I understand that, yes, but what I mean is why are you giving me this. Is there a favour you want from me, or something you expect me to do for you in return?” 

Yuuta’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. 

“N-no!” He spluttered, shaking his head, “I just thought you’d like some, is all.” 

Usually, by now, people would’ve just admitted they wanted something from him. So there was a good chance Yuuta was being honest. Megumi accepted the water bottle and sipped before swiping his hand with the back of his mouth. 

“Thank you…” 

“No need to thank me. It’s a decent thing to do. I’m really sorry.” 

“Hmm? What could you be sorry for?” 

“I do want to talk to you, but I’m not the best with social interactions, and I really don’t want you to think that I’m just here because I think it would be funny to talk to a ‘loser.’” 

“Oh. Quite frankly, you don’t seem like the kind of guy. I respect you for that.” 

Yuuta chuckled, and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Ah. I’m glad.”

Utahime clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. Yuuta offered a brief wave before turning away.

“Ah, I guess it’s time to go back to my team. But good luck, and it was nice to talk to you.” 

“I don’t care for this match, but I’ll wish you good luck, anyways.”

Yuuta grinned. 

Megumi went over back to his team, awkwardly standing to the side. 

“Time for the next event! A relay. The rules are simple, and I’m well aware you know how it works. You run your section, and hand your teammate the baton. Whichever team fully exchanges the baton first, wins. For the first match upm we have…Maki and Mai Zen’in.” 

Zen’in. Why does that name keep popping up? 

Mai and Maki, cousins and rivals, took their places at the starting line. Maki rolled her shoulders, eyes sharp, the baton gripped tightly in her hands. Mai, meanwhile, had a smirk plastered on her lips, ready in her stance. 

Mai shot Maki a sidelong glance. “Try not to embarrass yourself, Maki.”

Maki arched a brow. “Your trash-talking really has no effect. The only way to take me down is by winning.”

Miwa, Yuuta, Todo, Inumaki, Nobara, and Megumi lined up behind their teammates, the tension palpable.

Utahime raised her whistle to her lips. “On your marks…get set…GO!” 

A shrill, piercing noise rang out, signalling the start of the match. 

As the two Zen’ins dashed along the track, their respective teams erupted into cheers and chants. Mai was in the lead, her lungs burning with each breath she took. The wind tugged at their hair and clothes. Maki was a step behind, but quickly closed the gap. The two Zeni’ns thundered down the straight, neither willing to yield.

Mai’s thoughts raced. I won’t let her win. Not today. Her arms ached, and her legs burned, but she wasn’t going to be outshone by her sister. Not again. 

Maki, focused and determined, edged forward as they hit the first curve. The crowd roared as the cousins ran neck and neck, their rivalry as fierce as ever.

As they entered the handoff zone, Maki had managed to pull half a stride ahead. She thrust the baton forward to Inumaki who was stood, ready and waiting. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath.

Miwa felt a surge of panic. So many pairs of eyes were fixed on her, accompanying her every move, studying them closely. 

If their team lost, she didn’t want to be the one that was blamed. 

Snatching the baton from Mai, her blue hair streaming behind her, she took off. Inumaki, calm and collected, took the baton from Maki and set off with a steady, efficient pace.

Miwa’s mind was clear. Don’t let the gap widen. Prove you’re not useless.  She focused on her breathing, her stride even and strong.

Inumaki, silent as always, found his rhythm quickly.

Megumi, meanwhile, was watching as she turned the first curve. He offered her a nod and a small smile. A symbol of encouragement. 

Miwa gained ground on the back straight.  Inumaki, though not the fastest, was consistent and reliable. By the time they reached the handoff zone, Miwa had already reached the gap, thrusting her baton into Yuuta’s hands. 

Yuuta grabbed the baton from Miwa, his jaw clenched. He didn’t want to mess up- especially when Maki was watching. The cheers and chants of the crowd only increased as he ran. Nobara, ever fierce, grabbed the baton from Inumaki and shot off with a burst of speed.

Yuuta’s heart pounded. He’d never run for Kyoto before, but he was determined not to let his new teammates down. He pushed himself, legs burning, lungs on fire.

Nobara, competitive as ever, glanced back and saw Yuuta gaining. “Hell no! I don’t care what team you’re playing for! I’m not losing to you!” she called, gritting her teeth and accelerating.

Yuuta dug deep, drawing on the stamina he’d built from endless training. He closed the gap, drawing even with Nobara as they rounded the final curve. The crowd was on its feet, shouting encouragement.

Nobara refused to be overtaken. With a final burst, she reached the handoff zone just ahead, thrusting the baton toward Megumi. Out of the corner of her eye, she already saw Todo taking off. Yuuta had gotten ahead of her.

Todo, Kyoto’s anchor, took the baton from Yuuta with a booming, “Leave it to me, my friends!” His muscles coiled, he exploded down the track. The cheers and chants were slightly dimmed as everyone realised it was Todo.

Megumi accepted the baton from Nobara, his face cool and focused. He knew Todo’s reputation, but he wasn’t about to back down.

Nobara wasn’t particularly fond of Megumi, but it didn’t stop her from shouting at the top of her lungs as she cheered for him, along with Yuuji and Maki. 

Todo dashed along the track. Megumi ran, his form efficient, his mind clear. Don’t let him get in your head. Just run.

Todo quickly closed the gap, drawing even with Megumi on the back stretch. The two anchors were neck and neck, every muscle straining, every breath a battle.

The finish line loomed, the crowd screaming, the tension electric. Todo and Megumi, side by side, pushed themselves to their absolute limits.

Todo grinned, sweat streaming down his face. “Show me your soul, Fushiguro!”

Megumi, teeth gritted, refused to yield. Just a few more steps. Don’t let him win.

With a final, desperate surge, both runners lunged for the finish, batons outstretched.

The field fell silent as Utahime pursed his lips into a tight, thin line. Everyone held her breath. 

“It’s a tie!” She announced.

“Nah. There’s no way,” Yuuji muttered, kicking a discarded bottle wrapper on the grass. 

“Ugh, what the hell do you mean we lost to those cheats?” Kugisaki tilted her head back with a dramatic groan, her fingers in her hair. 

“Oi. Stop being dramatic. The both of you. We won the baseball match, and there’s still more events. So stop whining, and get ready to play again,” Maki scolded, with her arms folded across her chest. Inumaki nodded

Miwa sat beside Mai, both girls sharing a rare moment of camaraderie. “You were amazing, Mai,” Miwa said quietly.

Mai smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You too, Miwa. We almost had them.”

Todo, sprawled out beside Megumi, clapped him on the back, making him flinch. 

“Ha! Still better than you!” 

“Don’t touch me. And you're too loud, Todo.”

A crowd of students and teachers gathered around the pitch, buzzing with excitement. Utahime stood sternly with a whistle, ready to referee.

Maki, Tokyo’s captain, took the center spot with the ball at her feet. Her sharp eyes scanned the field, calculating her first move. “Alright. We’re gonna keep this clean. No tricks,” she stated, her voice firm and unwavering.

Todo cracked his knuckles, towering over the others. “Kyoto’s going to crush you. Let’s go, team!”

A shrill, piercing sound rang out, signalling the start of the match.

Maki tapped the ball forward, and the match was underway.

Yuuji burst into action, sprinting down the sideline, his energy infectious. “Let’s go, Tokyo!” he shouted, grinning at his teammates.

Maki weaved the ball expertly between Mai’s attempts to intercept. Mai, quick and agile, wasn’t going to let this slide. “Ha! You? Getting this ball? Fat chance!” she called, eyes blazing.

Mai’s strategy was clear: pressure Maki, force mistakes, and capitalize on any and all openings. She hovered nearby, shadowing Maki’s movements, ready to pounce.

Meanwhile, Yuuta positioned himself defensively, watching Nobara and Yuuji, studying their movements intently.

Nobara, fiery and aggressive, was relentless in her attacks. She darted forward with sharp passes and quick feints. Yuuji backed her up, using his speed and surprising footwork and calling out to her, coordinating their moves.

Inumaki, usually quiet, communicated with subtle hand signals to Megumi. 

The ball switched sides rapidly. Miwa, calm and steady, intercepted a pass from Megumi and quickly passed it to Todo. Todo, surprisingly nimble for his size, charged down the pitch. 

“Not so fast!” Nobara screamed, lunging.

Todo spun, ball still on him, then kicked a precise pass toward Yuuta, who sprinted into open space.

Yuuta controlled the ball expertly, eyes darting around, searching for openings. 

He passed back to Mai, advancing toward Tokyo’s goal.

Megumi was currently standing idly on the pitch, his arms dangling by his side- up until Mai came sprinting by. He intercepted Mai’s pass and quickly launched a counterattack. 

Yuuji received a quick pass from Megumi, switfly dodging Miwa’s attempt to block him. “Heads up, Nobara!” he called, sending a sharp pass her way.

Maki received the ball near Kyoto’s penalty area, a grin skittering across her lips. She feinted left, then right, trying to break through Mai’s defense.

Mai stayed close, blocking Maki’s path with quick footwork. “You’re not getting past, moron!” she said, her voice steady.

Suddenly, Yuuji found a gap and passed to Maki, who took a quick shot on goal.

Yuuta dived to block it but only managed to deflect the ball. Megumi seized the rebound and passed to Inumaki, who sprinted down the pitch.

Todo rushed back to defend, but Inumaki got there first. He crossed the ball into the box.

Yuuji leapt, heading the ball with precision.

Goal. 

Tokyo scored the first point.

Yuuji cheered, pumping his fist in the air. Nobara clapped him on the back. 

“Pay attention, you two,” Megumi chided, drawing their attention back to the match.

Todo slammed his fist into his palm. “Alright! Let’s turn this around!”

Kyoto pressed forward with renewed energy. Mai and Miwa combined passes skillfully to break through Tokyo’s defense.

Yuuta found space and took a powerful shot, but Megumi blocked it expertly.

The ball bounced to Mai, who dribbled past Inumaki and fired a shot.

Goal. 

Kyoto and Tokyo were now tied. 

Nobara and Miwa clashed repeatedly, ankles colliding, the ball slipping past their feet. Nobara and Miwa countered the others' moves with quick tackles and evasive maneuvers.

Yuuji and Todo battled for dominance, Yuuji’s athleticism matching Todo’s brute strength. “Bring it on!” Yuuji laughed as he intercepted a pass, racing down the field.

Megumi and Yuuta dueled in midfield. It was Meegumi’s passes against Yuuta’s relentless pressure. 

Maki orchestrated Tokyo’s offense, her leadership clear as she directed teammates and made daring runs.

Midway through the second half, Maki intercepted a sloppy pass from Mai near midfield. She sprinted toward Kyoto’s goal, dodging Mai and Miwa with sharp cuts and bursts of speed.

Todo, muscles burning, rushed back to block her shot.

Maki feinted, then passed to Nobara, who was sprinting in from the side.

Nobara took the shot.

Yuuta dove, stretching every muscle.

The ball hit the post—then bounced out.

Yuuji dashed in for the rebound, but Miwa managed to clear it at the last second.

With only minutes left, the score tied 1-1, both teams pushed their limits. Adrenaline and pride drove them onward.

 Mai intercepted before passing quickly to Yuuta, who sprinted down the pitch.

Yuuta crossed the ball to Todo, who was waiting near the box.

Todo controlled the ball and shot.

Megumi dived, blocking the shot with his chest.

The ball bounced to Miwa, who took a quick shot.

Maki leapt, tackling Miwa, their ankles colliding. Miwa lost her footing. Maki used that to her advantage, before booting the ball into the goal.

The ball zipped across the field. Yuuta leaped in advance, grunting as he landed against the grass. He was too early. 

The goal was secured. 

“And…time!” Utahime called out, blowing on her whistle. 

Yuuji’s breathing was ragged and uneven, his chest heaving with each breath.

“We did it. We did it!” 

“Hell yeah!” 

Nobara cheered, swiping at a bead of sweat on her brow, laughing breathlessly. 

“Knew we’d win against them,” Maki snorted, her arms folded across her chest.

“Good job as goalie, Fushiguro!” Yuuji called out, clapping Megumi in the back as he walked past. 

Megumi paused, and arched a brow. 

“Why are you congratulating me? I’m merely doing what I was supposed to.” 

“Yeah, but, y’know. You did it good!” 

Megumi exhaled briefly through his nose. 

“You’re weird.” 

Nobara, who was stood beside Yuuji, grinned. 

“He’s just straight up weird,” She agreed, making Yuuji yelp in protest.

Kugisaki was being surprisingly- 

“But just ‘cuz I agree don’t think that means we’re cool now, or whatever! I still think you’re a wannabe Sasuke.” 

“Ugh. Please don’t compare the two of us,” The raven haired boy grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, “We’re nothing alike.”

As dusk settled over the football pitch, a new excitement rippled through the students. The final event of the day was about to begin: capture the flag. The field had been divided in half. Each team’s flag was placed deep into the ground. The rules were simple: the first team to bring their opponent’s flag back to their base.

At the whistle, both teams exploded into action. Todo took charge for Kyoto, his booming voice rallying his teammates. “Miwa, you’re on defense! Yuuta, with me up front. Mai, support both sides!”

On the Tokyo side, Maki’s sharp eyes scanned the field. “Oi. Megumi. You’re our sweeper. Inumaki. Cover the flanks. Nobara, let’s go for the flag together.”

The game began with probing runs and feints. Yuuta darted forward, testing Tokyo’s defenses. Megumi shadowed him, his movements calculated and precise. 

Miwa hung back, keeping a watchful eye on their own flag, while Todo hung about on the midfield, ready to intercept.

Nobara and Maki advanced in sync, using quick passes and clever misdirection to try and slip past Mai. But Mai was alert, matching their pace and blocking their path with sharp, decisive moves.

Yuuta made the first real break, sprinting down the left side. Megumi closed in, but Yuuta faked a cut inside and doubled back, drawing Megumi out of position. Todo seized the opening, barreling forward with surprising speed.

“Inumaki, now!” Maki called.

Inumaki intercepted Todo, arms spread wide. 

Todo grinned, sidestepping Inumaki and charging for the flag. But Megumi, 

recovering quickly, slid in front of him, forcing Todo to retreat.

Seeing Todo pulled back, Maki signaled Nobara. “Go right!”

Nobara dashed forward, zigzagging between Miwa and Mai. She feinted left, 

then lunged right, slipping past Mai’s outstretched hand. Miwa, alert, moved to intercept, but Nobara’s speed carried her within reach of the Kyoto flag.

Yuuta, doubling back, blocked her path. “Not so fast, Kugisaki!”

They squared off, but Nobara, undeterred, tried to juke past him. Yuuta, however, anticipated her move and tagged her just before she touched the flag.

Nobara groaned, forced to return to her side. “Ughhh! You’re literally the worst.”

The game settled into a tense rhythm. Both teams tested each other’s defenses, searching for weaknesses. Mai and Miwa worked together, covering for each other and keeping Tokyo at bay. On the other side, Maki and Megumi formed a formidable wall, repelling every Kyoto advance.

Todo, growing impatient, called out, “Let’s break this deadlock! Yuuta, double team left side with me.”

They charged together, drawing Maki and Megumi into a two-on-two showdown. The four clashed in a blur of feints, tags, and near-misses. Meanwhile, Mai slipped quietly down the opposite flank, unnoticed.

Megumi, sensing something was off, glanced back just in time to see Mai closing in on the Tokyo flag. “Inumaki, left!” he shouted.

But Inumaki was occupied with Todo, who was putting on a dramatic show of athleticism, drawing all eyes to himself.

Mai reached the flag, her heart pounding. She snatched it and pivoted, sprinting back toward her side. Maki, realizing too late, gave chase, but Mai had a head start.

Nobara, fresh from the sidelines, intercepted Mai near midfield. They collided, both scrambling for balance. Mai ducked under Nobara’s arm, but Nobara managed to tag her just before she crossed into Kyoto territory.

The flag tumbled from Mai’s hands, landing just inches from the dividing line. 

The field erupted in chaos. Todo, seeing the flag loose, abandoned his duel with Inumaki and charged for it. Megumi, equally quick, sprinted from the opposite direction.

They reached the flag at the same time, both grabbing it. For a tense moment, they wrestled for control, teammates shouting encouragement.

With a burst of strength, Todo wrenched the flag free and dashed for Kyoto’s base. Maki and Megumi gave chase, but Todo’s momentum was unstoppable.

He crossed into Kyoto territory, slamming the flag onto the ground.

Kyoto erupted in cheers, Miwa and Yuuta rushing to high-five Todo and Mai. Tokyo, breathless but smiling, congratulated their rivals.

Maki clapped Todo on the back. “You’re a beast, Todo. Good game.”

Todo grinned, sweat streaming down his face. “You all fought well, Tokyo. Next time, I expect even more!”

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the field in twilight. The students, exhausted but exhilarated, gathered for one last group photo—rivals, teammates, and friends.

In the end, it wasn’t about the flag or the score. It was about the bonds forged in friendly battle, the laughter echoing into the night, and the promise of more challenges to come.

A sudden finger tapped at his shoulder, making his head turn. 

“Yes?” He groused. But his expression softened upon the familiar sight of blue hair, and he cleared his throat. 

“Apologies. I thought you were someone else.” 

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it, really. I just wanted to say that it was nice talking to you. I, uhm…hope we see each other soon, sometime.” 

Megumi hummed, and nodded. 

“Likewise.” 

“Well then. Bye!” She called out, waving at him with a grin. He returned the wave briefly. 

“Bye…”

And then, the students got into their lines as they headed back to school. 

The world blurred at the edges as he walked. His head throbbed with each step, as if a knife were embedded in there, twisting and twisting. Smudges of colours spinning, refusing to stay still. 

He was vaguely aware of someone calling out his name.

The aching in his stomach twisted into a sharp ache. Each breath that left him was shallow and ragged. His vision narrowed, fading to nothing but a pinprick of light, only to be consumed by a shadow. 

His cheek slammed against the pavement with a sharp thud as his consciousness slipped out from under him. Yuuji, upon hearing the thud, turned his head around.

“Megumi! Yo, Megumi?”

“Look, I told you, Itadori, the knock off Sasuke doesn’t wanna talk to you. Get over it! Move on!” 

The girl paused, and cast him a glance over his shoulder.

“Ugh, seriously , for the last ti-” She trailed off as she saw Megumi on the floor.

Miwa’s attention drifted from Maki and Yuuta’s conversation to Yuuji and Nobara’s exclaims. She weaved her way through the students, kneeling beside him.

Miwa, who was currently hunched over Megumi, had her palms pressed up against her temples. The noise swelled as everyone began talking at once—questions and accusations. 

“Guys…”  suggestions,

“Will- will everyone please?” 

 And worries all tangled together in a rising cacophony. Some argued about what had happened, others debated what to do next. 

“Everyone, shut up!” She snapped, burying her face in her palms. Everyone went quiet.

“Uhm, I, uhm…okay, okay. I just have to stay calm. I took a medical course once…” 

“Megumi!”

Maki’s gaze followed Miwa “Probably from when his head slammed against the gym floor…”  “she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

“Oh geez, that’s awful,” Yuuta mused, wrinkling his nose, “I feel sorry for him.”

Maki elbowed Todo aside, her sharp eyes scanning Megumi for injuries. “This is all your damn fault, Todo! Get your head out of your ass and think for once before thrashing whoever you want as you please!” 

“The hell you mean it’s my fault, huh? I don’t tolerate boring people!”  

“Uhm…what- what are we supposed to do?” 

When he didn’t respond, she reached for his wrist, pressing her thumb up against his pulse point, before lowering her head near his mouth. His breathing and pulse were  steady but weak. 

A pair of hands gripped his shoulders, rolling him over until his back was on the ground. Her fingers grazed his collar, reaching for his tie to loosen it, making sure he could breathe.

"Stay with me," Miwa urged softly, her voice cracking, betraying her nerves. She moved a hand to cradle the back of his head, propping him up against a nearby wall.

“Oi,” Maki spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention, “Just standing around running your mouths is doing nothing. Someone get Coach.”

“Does- does anyone have a bottle of water?” Miwa spoke up. 

Inumaki nodded, and tossed a bottle in her direction. Miwa caught it with ease. 

“Thank you.” Her fingers fumbled with the lid, twisting it open with a pop before tilting it to his lips to help him hydrate once he stirred.

Minutes later, Megumi’s eyelids fluttered open. His breath was shallow. As he lifted himself up, he saw blurs of colours, his vision swimming. The voices were mingling together, rising higher and higher above each other. He just wanted some quiet. 

“...Told you you’re not useless,” 

Miwa beamed. 

“Alright, alright!” A new voice. A new smudged colour came into view. With a clap of their hands, everyone went silent. “Quiet down. Give him space. Shoo!” The crowd reluctantly dispersed. 

Then, they crouched before Megumi, resting a hand on their shoulder. Fushiguro’s head stopped throbbing, and the voices subsided. His vision cleared, revealing raven hair tied back by a white ribbon and the white overalls that matched. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“...My head hurts,” He muttered, rubbing his temple, “A lot.” 

“Hmm. I suppose we’ll have to get you to Shoko.”

Fushiguro stood to his feet. His head still throbbed, and his stomach was still churning, but his vision had cleared. As he walked, Utahime kept a close eye on him, shooting him the occasional sidelong glance.

Utahime tapped her card against the scanner, and pushed open the doors to the cavell building.

“Guess we’re gonna have to send you home,” Ieiri mused, a cigarette dangling from her lips. 

“Home…?” Fushiguro croaked weakly, his head throbbing. 

“Yup. You passed out.” 

“No, n-no, really. ‘S not neccessary,” He slurred, shaking his head. Going home would mean spending time with Toji, which was the last thing he wanted.

“Pfft. Come on, kids would love to be sent home. One time, a girl jabbed a finger down her throat and made herself throw up just to go home. So I sent her home. I get it, though. School isn’t the most delightful place.” 

“Are you even allowed to smoke on school premises?” He countered, changing the topic.

“Wanna drag?” Shoko prompted, sliding the panel of glass aside as she leaned over. The cigarette was poised between her fingers as she offered it to him, “I won’t snitch,” 

The raven-haired boy eyed the cigarette cautiously, the scent of smoke infiltrating his nostrils. He opened his mouth to say no, but curiosity stirred within him. The words died on the tip of his tongue. 

Instead, he reached for the cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. Red lipstick lingered on the tip of the cigarette. Then, he brought it to his lips. He inhaled slowly, feeling the tobacco clouding his lungs, and clogging his throat. He erupted into a coughing fit. 

“Oh. Oh, that’s awful. I’m never going to smoke.” He muttered, handing it back to her.

“Good,” She huffed, nodding at him, “That’ll teach you.” 

A silence settled between them, save for the clatter of her fingers against the keyboard. He cleared his throat abruptly, searching for something to say. “Don’t- don’t you, uhm…have classes to teach?”

“Nope. So I work in the office when I don’t teach. Writing emails, calling up parents, blah blah…”

“Oh. I see.” 

“Can’t lie, I’m just thinking of quitting.” She said, shrugging with one-shoulder as she leaned back on her chair.

“Where would you work, though?” 

“The Royal London Hospital, maybe. Pays better than working here, that’s for sure.” 

“I wouldn’t like you to quit.” 

“Oh? How come?” 

“You’re my favourite teacher.” 

“Damn. That’s a pretty big honour. You don’t even tolerate much kids your age.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he groused, rolling his eyes. A weak attempt to cling to his composure, because the twitching of his lips betrayed his amusement. 

Then, the woman dialed a number, before bringing the phone to her ear. Her words were drowned out by his thoughts. A new iron fist seized his gut, twisting and twisting. 

Ieiri pulled out a chair, the cheap plastic scraping against the floor. She moved to cup his face in her palms, but his shoulders tensed as her hands hovered mid-air. 

“Relax,” She mumbled, her tone taking on a softer edge, “Just wanna see something.”

He felt the warmth of her palms seeping into his skin, tinged with the cold. She tilted his head left and right, leaning in to inspect his head. The woman was so close now, the scent of lingering tobacco mingling with disinfectant infiltrated his nostrils. He thought it was oddly suiting. Something about this felt maternal.

 She cautiously ran two fingers along the back of his head, her nails lightly grazing his hair. The gesture was oddly soothing- until her fingers grazed a bump he didn’t even know he had. 

“Okay. No cuts. But there’s a massive bump, though.” The woman reached for the discarded ice pack on the windowsill of the office, and handed it to him, gesturing towards the back of her head. 

He held the ice pack to the back of his head, wincing as the cold seeped into his skin. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna sting. You’ll get used to it.” 

Megumi offered something between a grunt and a hum of acknowledgement. The door swung open. 

Toji’s gaze fell on Megumi.

Chapter Text

Wordlessly, Megumi stood to his feet, keeping his eyes downcast to avoid Toji’s gaze. Shoko, sensing the change in atmosphere, let her gaze linger on the two of them. The eyes, the hair- they really did look alike. The woman exhaled through her nose, almost in dry amusement. Ieiri nodded at him, and waved her hand, confirming that they could leave. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah? Try not to get into any more fights. Don’t wanna have to see you here too often. Prefer to do my work in silence.” 

“No promises,” He hummed in response, following it up with a huff of amusement. 

Shoko rolled her eyes. Fushiguro moved to set down the ice pack that was given to him by Shoko, before shrugging on his bag, letting it dangle on one shoulder.

“See ya.” 

“Likewise.” 

Toji’s interest was piqued at the word ‘fight.’ So it was a fight, and these weren’t just injuries from the way he fell. Someone had dared to lay their hands on Megumi. His son. His blessing. 

Toji didn’t know what to do. The dark bruise blooming under his eye, a sickly contrast to his pale skin. Megumi’s split lip. The dried blood- all of that was poorly illuminated by the flickering lights. But now, he could see it properly. His heart lurched at the sight. He had shrugged on his coat as soon as he could. 

Megumi would rather be anywhere but here. He’d rather be with Shoko, or Miwa. He’d even take Yuuji or Nobara at this point. Just anything that would get him out of this situation. All he could was hold his breath, and wait for the worst. 

Just one foot in front of the other. He could do this. 

The two of them walked side by side, a silence stretching over them. The boy caught sight of himself in the reflection of a murky puddle, but the bruises and blood were unmistakable.

“Who did this to you?” Toji demanded, his tone low and dangerous. He slammed the door behind him with his foot, rattling the door on its hinges. Toji’s gaze was fixed on the boy. Dissecting. Demanding.

The boy laughed; the sound bitter, and devoid of any humour. “It’s nothing…” The erratic thumping of his heart sounded out a warning. Tension hung thick in the air, clotting it.

“ Don’t make me repeat myself!” He barked, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the empty house, “I said, "Who did this to you!?” 

Why did it matter to him? He doesn’t care about him- not really. It’s just an act, pretending that after all these years, he’s changed. 

“It was nothing. Stop making such a big deal out of it,”

This was nothing he couldn’t take. It was just a few bruises, and a bit of blood. Nothing that he hadn’t experienced in any fights before. Maybe the passing out was his own fault. He hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, anyways. 

“Nothing? Nothing, huh? Ya think that I hear about you being beaten and passing out, and I’m not gonna care? Is that what you think of me, huh? Is it? Is it? ”

The shouting made his head throb, as if a knife were embedded into his head, twisting and twisting. 

His irritation boiled over, mingling with desperation and frustration. Without giving him the time to respond, Toji retreated into the kitchen. It didn’t matter what, or how, as long as the frustration building within him dissolved under his fingertips. 

He snatched a mug, hurling it across the room. It landed on his son’s shoulder before exploding. Shards of glass flew. A jagged shard sliced his arm and clothes. Pain shot up through his arm- sharp and real. 

Toji didn’t notice this. He turned his back on Megumi after he threw the glass. 

The handle of the mug landed by his feet. He recognised it. It was Tsumiki’s favourite- the one with the odd handle. Sometimes, while drinking out of it, she’d lift her pinky and speak in a nasal accent as she tried to be posh. Megumi always thought it was lame, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile- just because it was lame, and not actually funny.

The memory almost made him smile, but the aching of his body and heart snuffed it out. So, he reached out for the handle, smoothing his thumb over it before placing it into his pocket. 

Megumi swiped at the blood oozing from the cut, staining his fingers. He winced as his fingertips grazed the cut. 

“Goin’ quiet on me now, huh?” He demanded, drawing Megumi’s attention back to him, “Think that’s the worst I can do?” 

“Ya know what? Fine. Be like that. Shut me out. Here I am, after all these years, trying to make things right. Don’t expect me to be nice if you won’t do the same for me.” 

Cups were hurled across the room. Exploding, one by one. Shards of glass scattered across the floor. His heart spiked with each cup that was thrown. He yanked a pan from the rack and slammed it down onto the stove, denting it. The metallic clang reverberated through the apartment.

Everything was loud. Too loud. Megumi just wanted to go lie down, and be left alone. 

“This is what happens when you test me. Remember that, Megumi. ” He spat, his tone oozing with malice, “So. Let’s try this again, yeah?”

The noises were making his head throb, the pain building behind his eyes. His anger had ruptured in his bones. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! ” Megumi screeched, feeling his irritation flare.

“Don’t use that tone with me!” Toji barked, emphasising his words with a bang of the pan against the stove,  “Don’t you dare disrespect me!”

Megumi’s irritation had been simmering under the surface for long enough. 

“Respect you? Respect you?” Megumi repeated, following it up with a bitter laugh, devoid of any humour, “What’s this? You expect me to respect you, after leavi-” 

And Megumi didn’t need to finish that sentence. The guilt was sharp and raw, like a spear, stabbing him in the heart. 

Toji crossed the room in quick strides. The boy turned his head to look at the pathetic excuse of a man stood before him, towering over him. The guilt subsided, replaced with anger. Thrumming in his veins. Winding up his spine. 

Without warning, Toji jabbed a finger at Megumi’s bruised face, directly into the bruise blooming under his eye. Pain shot through his face. A pair of rough hands gripped his shoulders, shoving him backwards. 

Megumi stumbled, his heel catching on the edge of a plate. He toppled, landing hard on his side among the broken glass. A sharp, jagged piece sliced deep into his thigh. The pain was immediate and blinding—a white-hot sting that stole his breath. 

He let out a strangled, involuntary cry, the sound raw and desperate as he curled instinctively around the wound.

But there was no mercy in Toji’s eyes. They were inscrutable. Impassive. 

This was his dad. The same man that was meant to love and protect him. And the betrayal cut deeper than any shard of glass ever could. 

Megumi’s hand flew to his leg, blood already seeping through his fingers. His whole body trembled, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted against the pain.

Tears fell, pooling in the crack of his lips. Spilling onto the shattered fragments of glass. 

Even then, Toji didn’t falter. It was too late for that now.

“Talk to me like that again, and I’ll kill ya. You don’t get to lecture me on what I do, or how I cope. Stop being so dramatic,” Toji grunted, staring down at the boy- his son; his blessing, “Ya brought this on yourself. Ya shoulda just answered me the first time.” 

Being beaten up because Todo didn’t like Megumi’s response to his question. Did it sound believable? Probably not. 

So instead: 

“It happened because we were playing a baseball match, and his team lost.” 

Toji hummed, seemingly satisfied. All the anger had dissolved beneath his fingertips. But this time, there was something else, too. Guilt. Tugging at his heart, settling into his stomach. 

The corners of his lips curled into a frown at the sight of Megumi before him, bleeding and bruised, surrounded by broken shards of glass. 

“You’re pathetic. Ya brought this on yourself. I would never do this to your sister. Y’know why? ‘Cuz she don’t talk back, she don’t misbehave. Be more like her.” 

Clearly, she was his favourite. 

The man rolled his eyes, and evaded the shards of glass as he began to walk, his footsteps padding against the floor. 

“And I’ll leave when it damn well pleases me. I’m clearly not wanted here, even after everything. Even after trying to be better for ya. And your sister. Ungrateful shit,” the man spat, his tone oozing with malice.

The door swung open, before he slammed it shut once more as he left. 

Leaving Megumi there, bruised and bloody.

Tears pooled in the crack of his lip. He swiped at his eyes, pulling himself to his feet. Once Toji had finally left, he swiped at his tears. Carefully evading the scattered shards of glass, he made his way into the kitchen. Pain shot through his leg with every step. 

He opened the cabinet, reaching for the dustpan and brush. Then, he crouched before the glass, sweeping it with the brush into the dustpan. When he was done, he tilted the dustpan, emptying it into the bin. 

Megumi stood in front of the counter. A static mist formed, threatening to spill over, his chest burning with each inhale. 

He sunk to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest, folding in on himself as he sobbed. Each sob racked his shoulders, and scraped his throat. His tears spilled onto his knees. The raven haired boy’s fingers were tangled in his hair  desperately as he cried- an old habit of self-soothing.

His sobs had subsided, but the aching of his heart (and body) hadn’t. 

Swiping at his nose roughly on his sleeve, he sucked in a sharp breath. He had wounds to tend to. 

Once he had entered the bathroom, he grabbed a bottle of Dettol, dabbing it into tissue before applying it across all his wounds, wincing and hissing in the process. From the cabinet under the sink, he found plasters, peeling them back before pressing it to his skin.

His eyelashes were itching. The voice in his head was urging him on. To just pluck out an eyelash- just one. The boy found himself pinching his eyelash between his thumb and finger, before yanking it roughly. 

He frowned, before trying again, and again and again. Because it was always more than just one. 

Finally, an eyelash came off, sticking to his thumb.

Another one. And another. 

The sharp surges of pain were subsided by the sight of the eyelashes he had pulled out now resting on his thumb. Fushiguro swiped the eyelashes off on his trousers, before repeating the process, until his eyes were pricked with tears.

Then, he lay down on the sofa, curling in on his side. He clutched the cushion close to his chest, as if it would replicate the comfort and warmth of another. His ‘dad,’ had done that. He really had shoved him back into a pile of broken glass, and left him there. There wasn’t even a single hint of remorse or regret in his eyes. 

Toji might’ve just beaten him while he was at it, too. 

It felt like a victory, in a twisted way. Megumi was right all along. Toji hadn’t changed at all, and was only here to leech off of them for a few nights. Tears still clung to his lashes, refusing to fall. 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Toji walked off, his hands shoved in his pocket. Goosebumps had erupted onto his arms. Megumi had shouted at him, disrespected him. So he deserved all of that- right? Someone had to discipline him. 

But he had sworn to himself that he was never going to be like his clan- Zen’ins be damned. He recognised that fear, that betrayal in Megumi’s eyes as he had gazed at him from through his tears. 

Because Toji had been in that position once, too. 

Toji’s father sat in the centre of the room, his back turned. He didn’t want to have to strain his eyes with looking at the disgrace of the clan. Toji stood in the doorway, jaw set, eyes cold. 

“So you finally dragged your sorry ass home,” his father spat, voice rough. “What, ran out of places to fuck up?”

Toji merely huffed; unfazed. “Yeah, well, this place is as shitty as the rest. Figured I’d check if you still remembered you had a son.”

His father slammed the glass down, the sound sharp as a gunshot. “Don’t get smart with me, boy. You’re a fucking disappointment. Never shoulda got married to that slut, and then, I wouldn’t have had you . Maybe if I had done this right I wouldn’t have such a fuck-up in my bloodline.”

His mother was busy washing clothes in the courtyard, scrubbing at clothes until her fingers pruned and her knees ached from crouching. If she didn’t do it quick enough, or up to standard, she’d hold out her palms, only for them to be struck with a sugarcane. 

And despite everything, she was the only one who cared. Checking up on him when she could. Sneaking him extra bits of food. Toji felt a flicker of irritation.

“A slut? You’re lucky she chooses to stick with your sorry ass.”

“Shut the fuck up! You can’t even hold down a job, can’t fight, can’t think. You’re just a waste of space. I should’ve known you’d turn out like this the moment you started slacking off as a kid.”

Toji’s fists tightened at his sides, but not from hurt—just habit. “Maybe if you’d been less of a bastard, I would’ve turned out different.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now? You little shit.” His father’s face contorted with rage. “You’re the one who’s too lazy to do anything right. I gave you every chance. You pissed it all away. You’re nothing, Toji. Nothing but a fuck-up and a burden.”

Toji’s laugh was hollow, devoid of any humour. “Yeah? Well, at least I’m not a bitter old man screaming at his own son because his life’s gone to hell.”

Toji turned, slamming the door behind him, his father’s curses echoing down the hallway. None of it hurt anymore. It was just noise—background static in a life that had taught him long ago not to expect anything else.

Maybe, in his own sick and twisted way, he was searching for a way to shift the blame from him to Megumi so the iron fist around his gut would finally loosen, allowing him to breathe. 

But everytime he closed his eyes, the image was there, embedded into his eyelids- Megumi, bleeding and bruised on the floor.

The neon lights caught Toji’s eyes, making him pause. Muffled music spilled through the windows, drowning out the idle chatter. 

The knot in his stomach refused to loosen. He needed something, anything to drown his thoughts. And this was all he knew. As he entered the bar, his gaze shifted from the disco ball, scattering pin pricks of light across the dancefloor, to the people hovering around the booths.

“Hello,” A voice spoke up, drawing his attention. The woman was leaning against the counter, with her elbows lazily propped up on it, her chin resting in her palm. But what really drew his attention was her large chest. He felt better already. 

“My eyes are up here,” She chided, tracing lazy patterns on the counter. Stray strands of white hair framed her face, escaping her ponytail.

“Hard not to be distracted,” He shrugged, before settling down onto a stool, “You’re a real pretty sight, ya know.” 

The woman shrugged, as if unfazed by his comment. 

“So I’ve been told before. Is there any particular drink you have in mind?”

“Hmph. I dunno. Surprise me, doll.” He prompted, offering her a wink. A smirk skittered across Mei Mei’s lips.

When she finally returned, she slid over the drink to him, pairing it with a sweet smile.

Toji brought the cup to his lips, chugging it down. It was like petrol and grapes on his tongue, rolled into one. The scent alone made his stomach churn. But finally, finally, the knot in his stomach unravelled. He could breathe. 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s good. Real good. What did you put in it?” 

“Oh…you know. Just used my intuition and expertise” She mumbled dismissively, waving her hand. 

This was his chance. He was going to make the most of it, “Say, can I get your number?” 

“Sure,” She mused, wrinkling her nose, “Why not?” 

His head throbbed suddenly, as if a knife were embedded in there, twisting and twisting. Smudges of colours spinning, refusing to stay still. 

Once his head had slammed against the stool, she let out a long, drawn-out sigh, before muttering a ‘finally.’ 

Mei Mei casually slid over to him, turning him over so he was lying on his back. Her hands were everywhere- searching his pockets. Once her fingers grazed the thick stack of cash, a smirk skittered across her features. 

“Whoops…” The woman mumbled, sliding the cash into her own pocket, turning her back on him. He had no use to her, now. There was nothing special about him. At least he had some money on him when she found him.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Sleep came to him in waves- brief, shallow, pulling him under before spitting him back onto shore.

Tick 

Tock 

The steady thrum of pain radiating from his head

Tick

Tock 

The muffled music drifting from the neighbour’s

Tick 

Tock 

The faint ticking of a clock

Tick

Tock…

“I’m home!” Tsumiki called out, her voice sailing through the room, pulling Megumi out of his trance. The house was quiet. Too quiet, and it made her stomach churn

Typically, he’d scoff, and insist that she doesn’t need to declare that. No one else makes such a noise upon entering, he’d say, You don’t need to specify that it’s you.

“Welcome back,” He slurred, shifting into a sitting position as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Are you…okay?” 

“Hm. ‘m just tired…” He hummed in response. Here she was, straight from work, and she was already worrying about him. She didn’t deserve this. 

“Just tired?” She eyed him sceptically, arching a brow, “You say that when you look like this? ” She gestured towards his split lip, and the dark bruise blooming around his eye.

“Todo beat my face in for not liking my answer to what kind of women I like.” 

His older sister dumped her bag on the floor, by her feet. “Todo? Wait, I think I’ve seen him around before. Tall, muscles, long hair?” 

Megumi nodded absently. 

“I swear, you need to stop starting all these fights.” 

“I didn’t start it, but I finished it.” 

Tsumiki knew that if Toji heard, from wherever he was, he would’ve snorted at that. 

Tsumiki pinched the bridge of her nose, feigning exasperation. As she grabbed a wipe, she reached out, gently swiping at the blood that had long dried on his face. 

The gesture was so tender, a stark contrast to the violence in which Toji treated him with. It made his heart lurch. He wanted to cry again. So instead, he scrunched his eyes shut, hoping the tears wouldn’t fall. 

“There,” She said, stepping back to inspect his face, “All done. You can stop being so tense, and open your eyes, now.” 

The boy slowly, cautiously opened his eyes. Pain still thrummed behind them. 

“Where…did- did,” Tsumiki paused. ‘Dad,’ was too intimate, too affectionate for someone who might’ve left them once again. ‘Father,’ was better. There was a cold distance to it, but it was safe. But then again, he hadn’t done anything spectacular to earn that title. 

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” He croaked. 

Tsumiki ducked her head, avoiding her younger brother’s gaze. It was partially a lie, anyways. It only dawned on him then- Megumi had blown it. His only chance of keeping Tsumiki happy, letting her live a fraction of the life she deserved. Her earlier words popped into his mind: ‘I never asked for this! I never asked to have a brother to take care of! I never wanted this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!’ Instead, now she was here, coming home from work only to make a fuss over him. His own selfishness had stood in the way of Tsumiki’s happiness, driving Toji away. 

If he had a second chance, he would do it all over. 

Maybe, if he wasn’t so blinded by his anger the first time Toji ‘left them,’ he would’ve seen that sooner. Maybe Toji was right, and he had brought all of this onto himself. His heart lurched, guilt tugging at it. 

Tsumiki untied her laces, carefully placing them under the heater.

Then, the girl headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. Except that there were no cups left- or even her favourite mug. A gasp leaving her lips. 

“Megumi? What- what happened? Why are all the glasses and cups missing?” 

No no no, this was the last thing he wanted to happen. 

“Oh. It- it was…a racoon. Came in through the window and trashed the place again. Sorry…” he muttered weakly. He was holding his breath, waiting to see if Tsumiki would believe him. 

“Again? Ugh, I swear. These racoons are everywhere these days. Guess we’ll have to go out and buy more.” She sighed, holding one of the few remaining cups under the tap, sipping on it before returning to the living room.

As much as she wanted to process and worry about the idea of Toji leaving them again, she also had homework to get down. 

She grabbed her laptop, tucking it under her armpit. Her younger brother patted the spot beside him, gesturing for her to sit.

A long silence stretched over them, save for the sound of the clatter of Tsumiki’s fingers against the keyboard. 

“What are you working on?” 

“An essay on knife crime,” She responded, her eyes glued to the screen. 

“I see.” 

“Ew. Get away from me, you freak,” Tsumiki grumbled, swatting at his arm playfully. Megumi kicked her ankle in retaliation, making her snicker. He eventually joined in, his laughter brief and fleeting. 

“Hey. Look at that. You’re not emotionally constipated, for once.” 

“Oh, please. At least I don’t speak like I’m reading out motivational facebook quotes.” 

Tsumiki repeated Megumi, raising her voice a few octaves, before sticking her tongue out at him. 

“You’re insufferable,” He huffed weakly. 

After a pause, Tsumiki whined:

“I’m hungryy.”

“And what do you want me to do about thaatt?” he groused back, shaking his head in feigned exasperation. 

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. If you’re going to be such a baby…”

But as Megumi stood up to head to the kitchen, his older sister caught a glimpse of the plaster he stuck onto his foot from when the shard of glass scraped his foot. 

“Hey. Why do you have so many plasters on you?” 

He froze. He didn’t know what to say. How would Tsumiki even react about hearing the things he had done? 

“The racoon. Believe me, it was hard work getting it out.” He lied, the edge of his tone raising an octave, as if asking if she believed him

“Ohhhh,” She mumbled, nodding absently, “Wow. Okay, then.” 

The tension in his shoulders dissolved (somewhat.) After searching through the cupboards and cabinets, all he could find was a cup of instant noodles. That would do, since the aching of his body wouldn’t let him cook anything else, anyways. 

As he put the kettle on, listening to it simmer, his thoughts drifted back to Toji. He couldn’t help but wonder how he felt, shoving Megumi back into the pile of glass. Did the anger and guilt within him dissolve under Toji’s fingertips? 

Megumi knew that feeling well; lashing out at others like he did with Tsumiki. She just happened to be the closest in range, and the anger in Megumi was uncontainable. 

Maybe they weren’t so different as he thought. 

He understood Toji, but it didn’t change the aching of his heart as he tentatively grazed his fingers along the plaster, hiding the cut where he had thrown Tsumiki’s favourite mug at him. 

The simmering of the kettle finally subsided. The boy grabbed the kettle, tilting it into the cup, before pouring the sachet of spice along with it and stirring. 

He had almost reached for three forks, not two- but Toji had left them. He wasn’t here anymore. Not having Toji around doesn’t feel as relieving as Megumi thought it would. 

“It’s hot,” He warned, entering the living room, handing her a fork. He settled down on the sofa beside her. 

“Is that all we have?” 

“I can’t be bothered to cook.” 

“Same,” She snorted, an amused grin skittering across her lips.

Once his older sister was handed the fork, she immediately dug in, despite his warning. 

She winced. 

“Told you it’s hot.” 

“Yeah yeah, okay, I get it,” She groused, rolling her eyes in feigned irritation. 

This felt familiar, like the evening before Toji returned. Megumi and Tsumiki, eating her birthday cake on the sofa. 

The raven-haired boy cleared his throat abruptly before speaking up: “Can- can I ask you something, Tsumiki?” 

“I know you only use my name when it’s something serious. You’re seriously scaring me.”

“I- I’m just…I want to know. Are you happy? Genuinely?” 

“Of course I am,” She responded instantly, offering him a small smile, “I have you. The best brother I could ever ask for.” 

Did he even deserve that title, after everything? The warmth that had bloomed in his chest was instantly replaced by guilt.

“Stop doting on me,” He huffed weakly, “It’s revolting.” 

After a pause, Megumi took a bite of the noodles, and nodding in his older sister’s direction. 

“It’s cooler. You can eat it, now.” 

Despite the two of them holding the cup, it was more towards Megumi. When Tsumiki noticed this, she grumbled under her breath. 

“Stop hogging it, fatty.” 

“I am not hogging it.” 

Tsumiki held up a finger as she was chewing, signalling for him to wait. “You are!” 

“I’m holding it like this because we’re so far apart,” He countered, “Sit closer to me, or quit whining.” 

Then, she scooted closer to him, and the boy rolled his eyes. 

“Finally.” 

“So, how was work?” Megumi asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen. 

“Fine,” She hummed in response, offering him a slight shrug. 

Megumi’s foot was pressed up against Tsumiki’s ankle. Skin against skin, bone against bone.

 It was a reminder that she was here, and she was with him. 

Chapter Text

Megumi, Tsumiki and Toji were together, sitting on the sofa. Toji sat in between them with an arm around his sister as they talked, her head on his shoulder.

Clearly, she was the favourite.

The boy scowled, feeling a stab in his gut. It wasn’t jealousy, don’t be stupid- it was just irritation. That he was acting as if what he had done to Megumi had never happened. Yeah, that’s all.

He couldn’t make out what they were saying as hard as he tried.

Smudges and blobs of colour flickered across the screen. Weird. Was the TV not working?

The clock perched on the shelf had a missing hour. The floorboards were brown, and not grey- since when had the floors been redone?

He parted his lips. Unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and yet, no words left his lips.

The scene shifted. Wordlessly, he backed away from the door, averting his gaze. The sooner he looked away, the better. Like it would change anything. Like it would mean that every time he closed his eyes, the image of his children on the floor wouldn’t be embedded into his eyelids.

“No!” His older sister screeched, reaching out a hand, like she could pull him back in. Like it would convince him not to leave them again. She shook her head frantically, her hand trembling.

Megumi stood there, helpless.

The scene distorted once more.

He stood before Toji. The lights of the kitchen were flickering overhead. Toji, meanwhile, was towering over him. His lips were pulled into a sneer, exposing his canine-like teeth.

Megumi was aware of the way his fists were clenched by his side. Words left his mouth, but he couldn't hear what.

Toji's express sexpression contorted into a scowl. Whatever Megumi said was nothing good. His arm darted out, securing around Megumi's throat, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

His calloused fingers dug into Megumi’s neck. It would definitely bruise later.

Megumi's breathing came out in ragged gasps. His vision was swimming- smudges and blurs of colour refusing to stay still.

It was happening again. Toji was being violent. He hadn’t changed at all, and he was right all along.

Except it didn’t feel like the victory he hoped it would. It felt like betrayal.

Tears pooled in the crack of his lip. Tsumiki was hovering behind Toji.

Finally, Toji let go. The boy raised his hand to his chest, taking in sharp, shallow breaths.

"Megumi! Megumi! Why’d you do that? Toji's gone now, and he’s leaving. It’s all. Your. Fault.”

Tsumiki snapped, jabbing two fingers into his shoulder for emphasis until he staggered back.

"But I didn't-Tsumiki…"

It was too late. Toji was slipping out of the door.

And it was all his fault.

He sat upright, waking with a startle. He clutched his chest where his heart was, feeling it thump against his rib cage, as if threatening to break free.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Breathe.

It was just a nightmare. He was safe. Or for now, at least.

His foot was still pressed up against Tsumiki’s ankle from when they had fallen asleep on the sofa together. He could feel the warmth of her skin seeping into his, a reminder that she was there, and she was with him, with the blanket draped around their shoulders.

He curled in on himself as tears pricked his eyes. The boy held a hand over his mouth, muffling his sobs. His tears stained the sofa beneath him.

The house was eerily empty without Toji. Megumi wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Heading into the bathroom, Squirting a small amount of toothpaste onto his brush, he brushed his teeth. He then tore the plasters straight off of his skin without wincing. To reach the plaster on his ankle, he propped his foot on the ledge of the bathtub, knocking over the bottle of shampoo in the process. He sighed sharply, hoping it wouldn’t wake his older sister.

The skin stung where the plaster had lingered. But he didn't mind. He could take it.

From the other side of the door was some shuffling and twisting, Megumi’s heart spiking with each sound. He gathered the tissues and plasters and chucked them into the bin. The last thing he wanted to do was be caught with cuts from when Toji had throw the mug at him.

But what if it was Toji?

Maybe Toji regretted what he had done. Maybe Toji was back, and Megumi could make this right. Give Tsumiki the happiness she deserves.

Megumi hovered behind her as she glanced through the peephole, a blurry phantom visible, tugging at a loose thread on his sleeve.

The voice in his head spoke up, reminding him that Toji hadn’t taken the keys with him when he left. So that could only mean…

Anticipation hung thick in the air, clotting it. Instead, a man burst through the door. Arms outstretched, with a familiar mop of white hair, and piercing crystal blue eyes.

“Kids! I’m home!” He exclaimed, grinning.

It was Gojo, with that same cocky grin he wore as a teenager. Megumi despised it.

Tsumiki’s heart sank into her stomach. She might never get it back. His older sister recovered, offering a small smile.

“Oh, hello. It’s been a while.”

“Tsumiki! Megumi! Guess who’s here for the monthly check-up? Hint: you’re looking right at him!”

“The answer is explicit. No hints are necessary,” Megumi groused, his tone lacking its usual bite, “And please, come in. It’s cold out, and you’re bringing in the air with you.”

Gojo came by to visit them every month to check up on them. He’d buy them clothes or bring random gifts, or take them out for the day.

Gojo shut the door behind him, and kicked off his shoes, leaving them under the heater, like Megumi had told him so many times before. Toji would just dump his shoes anywhere.

He reached out to ruffle each of their hair respectively. Tsumiki laughed, and Megumi simply rolled his eyes.

“Would you look at that? Even when I ruffle your hair, it doesn’t go down. It never fails to amaze me.”

“You’re actually the worst…”

But, truthfully, Megumi would rather pick Gojo over Toji any day, especially after-

Gojo clapped his hands together, drawing their attention.

“Right! So, it’s been brought to my attention that a very special boy’s birthday has passed. And, sadly, I couldn’t be there to celebrate. Work and all, blah blah. But! Anyways! It’s time to celebrate, Megumi! What do you wanna do today? My time is all yours.”

Spending time with them. Something Toji hadn’t done yet. Every activity they did was initiated by Tsumiki. Some great dad he

was.

Megumi simply rolled his eyes with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Must you make such a fuss? What is there to celebrate about being one year closer to your death, anyways?”

“Aww, that’s so dark and gloomy. Don’t think about it like that! Think about it like I get to take you guys for a ride in my super fancy car.”

Gojo hummed thoughtfully. The white haired man clicked his fingers and grinned.

“I know just the place. But you’re definitely gonna wanna get changed,” The man leaned forward, cupping a hand around his mouth as his voice dropped to a dramatic, hushed whisper, “It’s really expensive…”

“Don't forget to dress warm! It's cold outside!"

The white haired man called cupping a hand around his mouth

"We know, we know…” The raven-haired boy sighed, shaving his hands into his pocket.

Gojo settled onto the sofa while the two went into their rooms, getting changed. The raven-haired boy stood in front of his wardrobe, running a hand along his face. Everything he had in there was generic, and he didn’t want them to look like Gojo’s charity case.

Except…

There were a stash of expensive clothes and shoes that he had barely even touched. There must be something in there. He settled on that black jumper with the white collar Gojo had bought for both him and Tsumiki, rolling his sleeves up.

As Megumi walked past when he was done changing, Gojo’s gaze fell on the dark bruise blooming under Megumi’s eye. His hand darted out, securing his fingers around Megumi’s wrist, making the boy pause.

“C’mere.”

“Why?” He scoffed, a hint of defensiveness colouring his tone.

“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that. I just wanna see something.”

The raven-haired boy reluctantly stepped forward. Gojo’s hand reached out, and Megumi recoiled violently, scrunching his eyes shut.

The only betrayal of Gojo’s concern was the crease of his brow. Sure, Megumi would scowl or protest sometimes if Gojo touched him, but never flinched…

Something wasn’t right.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. I’m just gonna touch your face, alright? Promise.”

In an attempt to regain his composure, he responded with a snarky comment.

“Ugh. Insufferable as always.”

Gojo’s hand slid up, cupping Megumi’s cheek, right above the dark bruise blooming under his eye. He could feel the warmth of his palm seeping into his skin. He just hoped Gojo didn’t question the scratches. It made Megumi’s breath hitch. The gesture was so…tender. It made him want to cry again.

“What happened to you, kiddo?” He mumbled, his gaze fixed on the boy, studying him intently.

“A fight.” He stated; plain and simple. But that was only half of it.

“Another one?”

Megumi grunted in agreement.

“Hmm. M’kay. You gotta be careful with yourself, alright?”

The white haired man chided, stroking his cheek with his thumb. The affectionate gesture made his heart lurch. He nodded weakly. Gojo stopped caressing his face, but didn’t move his hand.

The voice in his head urged him to snap at him, to lash out at him. Gojo’s not his father and never will be, and hated how Gojo just assumed that he could.

But lashing at him would make him no better than Toji.

His ‘dad,’ had done that. He really had shoved him back into a pile of broken glass, and left him there, bleeding and bruised. There wasn’t even a single hint of remorse or regret in his eyes.

Toji might’ve just beaten him while he was at it, too.

It felt like a victory, in a twisted way. Megumi was right all along. Toji hadn’t changed at all, and was only here to leech off of them for a few nights.

But he remembered the way Tsumiki ducked her head, avoiding her younger brother’s gaze when she found out he had left them again. It only dawned on him then- Megumi had blown it. His only chance of keeping Tsumiki happy, letting her live a fraction of the life she deserved.

Her earlier words popped into his mind: ‘I never asked for this! I never asked to have a brother to take care of! I never wanted this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!’ Instead, now she was here, coming home from work only to make a fuss over him. His own selfishness had stood in the way of Tsumiki’s happiness, driving Toji away.

If he had a second chance, he would do it all over.

Maybe, if he wasn’t so blinded by his anger the first time Toji ‘left them,’ he would’ve seen that sooner. Maybe Toji was right, and he had brought all of this onto himself. His heart lurched, guilt tugging at it.

“So. Did you win?” Gojo taunted, drawing Megumi’s attention.

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

Gojo playfully punched Megumi’s shoulder, a grin playing on his lips.

“Nice.”

Tsumiki emerged from around her room, her blue skirt swishing around her calves. Her silver necklace shone under the living room light, drawing attention to the white collar of her black jumper.

Taking Gojo's advice, she wore tights. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, held in place with a white bow.

"Look at you, ‘miki! Someone’s ready to go to a fancy five star dinner, am I right?”

Tsumiki, upon hearing this, rubbed the back of her neck, and grinned sheepishly.

"Oh. Well uhm. Hah, thank you.”

“Nah, no need to thank me. I’m just stating the obvious,” Gojo responded, waving Tsumiku's hand thanks with his hand.

Coincidentally, Megumi happened to be wearing the same jumper with a white collar. The only difference was his sleeves were rolled up. Gojo had bought it for the two of them, deliberately matching, claiming it would be cute if they wore it together.

“Aww, just look at you two matching! See? Told you it'd be cute!"

“You might've well just bought one for yourself, too.” The boy groused, his tone oozing with sarcasm.

"I would've. If they had my size.”

Tsumiki giggled. Megumi sighed.

“Everyone good and ready to go?”

“Ready!”

“Great! Let’s go.”

The two of them trailed behind Gojo as they exited the house. The three of them headed out, goosebumps erupting onto their arms. The throbbing of his head had subsided. but the aching of his heart hadn't.

But, for the first time, Megumi was almost glad to be with Gojo.

The wind tugged at their hair and clothes. They were greeted by the sight of a slick vehicle parked outside, their reflections visible in it. The man gestured to his car with a flourish, pairing it with a proud grin.

“Ta-da! I present to you…the Bugatti Centodieci! It means ‘one-hundred and ten,’ in Italian and was made to celebrate Bugatti’s a hundred and tenth anniversary! Cool, right?”

Megumi hummed thoughtfully, and Tsumiki gasped.

“Doesn’t Kiyotaka typically drive?” Megumi asked, arching a brow.

“Yup! But he’s busy today! So I’ll be driving.”

“With you behind the wheel we won’t make it to the restaurant, let alone my next birthday.”

“Have some faith in me, Megumi! My driving? Impeccable. I absolutely aced the driving test.”

“By bribing your diving instructor?”

Gojo gasped dramatically. Tsumiki snickered.

The white haired man pulled open the door, jerking his head in the direction of the car, gesturing for the siblings to get in.

The two of them climbed into their respectives seats. Tsumiki fumbled with her seatbelt.

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Don’t we have to do them, though?”

“Nah. I’m not a safety freak.”

Gojo rested a hand on the steering wheel, cranking the lever before the car started.

The rows and rows of crammed houses were fading as they drove. They were replaced by lavish stores, miniature text inscribed in roman numerals, displaying toys with ridiculous price tags. The houses were no longer crammed together- the space between them was filled with wilting flowers and neatly trimmed bushes. Chandeliers dangling from the ceiling of stores instead of skyscrapers that seemed to graze the sky.

“Well. Here we are, everybody!” Gojo announced, gesturing towards the building.

Gojo shut the car door cautiously as they exited.

The glass doors of The Ritz opened for them with a gentle hum.

Once they stepped inside, they were greeted by the sigh of chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. Their shoes squeaked against the recently polished floor, catching their reflections in it. The bruise that had bloomed under his eye was slowly fading away, thankfully. Columns were scattered across the hall.

The murmured conversations mingled with the clinking of champagne flutes and cutlery.

A man stood with his hands clasped more in front of him, his blond hair grazing his shoulders. He nodded at them.

“Good afternoon. Do you have a booking?"

“Nope,” Gojo responded, rocking on his heels as he popped the ‘p.’ “But you do walk-ins, right? A table for three is perfect.”

“Ri-right Table for three.”

"There's just a little something we need to discuss. You see…”

Gojo leaned in, cupping a hand around his mouth as he whispered, meaning Megum couldn't read his lips. Damn it.

“Oh. Of course. Understood!”

The white haired man clicked his tongue, and shot the waiter finger guns.

"Thanks!"

They were led to a table. Champagne flutes were set on the table, along with a menu and three napkins.

Gojo propped his chin lazily in his palm, an amused grin skittering across his lips. “Fancy, right?”

“I’d have to sell our house to even afford a table here…” Tsumiki mused, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully.

Once they had taken their seats, Megumi opened the menu, scanning the contents. He huffed when his gaze fell on the prices.

"Are-is... this serious? Does it really cost-?”

“Uh-uh! tsumiki You’re not supposed to worry about that,” Gojo leaned forward, reaching out to poke Megumi’’s nose playfully, “And besides, remember. Today's all about you.”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Tsumiki giggled.

“You have way too much money on you,” Tsumiki huffed, shaking her head in feigned disappointment.

“Hey, what can I say? Might as well spend it on the people I love, right?”

Megumi’s earlier frown softened.

“Ready to order?” The waiter prompted, reaching for a pen and small notepad from their pocket.

“Yup!”

“I think I’ll try the truffle pasta,” Tsumiki mused, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully.

“Excellent choice!” Gojo approved. “Megumi?”

Megumi hesitated, before blurting out the first thing that had caught his eye on the menu.

“I’ll have the- the, uhm…lobster risotto.

Gojo whistled. “Good choice. I’ll have the byakura gelato!”

The waiter repeated the order, making sure they had taken note of everything. When Gojo confirmed it, they left.

The lights weren’t just making him squint- they were practically glaring down at him, pressing against his eyelids. Gojo subtly (or at least he tried to be) shifted in his seat. It wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was distracting. It drew his attention away from Megumi and Tsumiki. So he grabbed the glasses that were clipped onto his shirt before putting them on.

Fushiguro simply rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Must you wear them indoors? It makes you look ridiculous.”

“Aww, really?” Gojo pouted, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “But I thought I was the coolest person you knew, Megs!”

Tsumiki giggled faintly at this, hiding it behind her hand.

“You’re certainly the lamest. Seriously. It’s not even that bright.”

Gojo’s expression faltered briefly, before he shrugged.

“For me it is, anyways. Sensory thing, you know? Part of my ADHD. I get overwhelmed by bright lights sometimes. The sunglasses help.”

The raven haired boy felt the tips of his ears flush crimson at Gojo’s explanation, and he buried his face in his collar.

“I- I didn’t…my apologies. I wasn’t aware you had ADHD.”

At the sight of Megumi’s sheepishness, Gojo leaned back in his seat, and waved a hand dissmissively.

“Nah, don’t sweat it. It’s cool. You didn’t know. I don’t take it personally. So hey. I’m still the coolest person you know?”

The boy sighed, feigning irritation as he moved his face from his collar, before grumbling: “Occasionally tolerable, at best.”

Tsumiki shot her younger brother a sharp glare.

“Megumi…”

Gojo shrugged.

“I’ll take it.”

Eventually, the truffle pasta arrived as silky ribbons of tagliatelle, tossed in a creamy sauce and crowned with delicate shavings of black truffle, their earthy aroma mingling with parmesan and fresh herbs. Megumi’s lobster risotto was creamy and perfectly al dente, each grain of rice infused with a rich seafood broth and studded with sweet, tender lobster pieces, finished with a hint of lemon zest. Gojo’s byakura gelato sat in a frosted bowl, its pale, floral sweetness accented by a scattering of edible silver leaf and a crisp wafer, promising a cool, fragrant finish to the meal.

The three of them began eating, cutlery clattering.

In between the food, Tsumiki muttered:

“I’m just- just gonna go to the bathroom,” As she stood to her feet.

“Sure. Straight down and to the left, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That left Gojo and Megumi to eat in silence. Gojo shot Megumi the occasional sidelong glance. He couldn’t help the feeling that something was…wrong with him. It was just a hunch. Just instinct. No solid proof asides from the flincing to prove it.

By then, Megumi’s older sister had returned.

“Megumi. Megumi.” Tsumiki hissed, yanking him close by his sleeve. He could barely hear her above the noise.

“What? What is it, Tsumiki?” The crease of his brow betrayed his concern.

Her gaze darted around the room, before she finally admitted:

“My period started.”

“Right- right now?” He spluttered.

“No, it started two days ago- yes, right now!”

“And? What am I supposed to do about that?” He exclaimed, arching a brow at her incredulously.

“I don’t know!”

Megumi sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Just… just tell Gojo.”

The white haired man’s interest was piqued at the mention of his name.“Eh? Tell me what?” Gojo asked, a spoon poised between his fingers.

“It’s- it’s, uhm. Kinda embarrassing,” Tsumiki muttered, ducking her head, tugging at her sleeve.

“No no, tell me. Go on. I’m listening.”

His older sister scrunched his eyes shut before blurting out: “My period started. And I don’t have anything on me.”

“Wait! Wait, what?” He exclaimed, leaning forward in his seat, “Okay, okay…don’t panic! Don’t panic!”

“Can you stop panicking? Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.” The raven haired boy groused, shooting the man an unamused glare.

“Me? Pfft. Panicking? Nah. Haha, what- what made you think that? I’ve got this totally under control! Pads, tampons, whatever you need! I’m on it.”

“Alright, then. Megumi. You’re coming with me.” Gojo declared, standing to his feet abruptly.

“Huh? Why-”

“Uh-uh! Get up, and stop arguing!” Before Gojo turned his back on Megumi’s older sister, he said:

“Stay put, yeah? We got this.”

She nodded.

As a waiter walked past, Gojo yanked her forth by her sleeve, cupping a hand around his mouth as he whispered in her ear. Her expression shifted from disgust to understanding as he spoke.

Megumi rolled his eyes, and gingerly got up from his seat, following Gojo back into the car.

Thankfully, Gojo had spent a lot of time in these areas, and knew a few corner shops. They’d have something. Hopefully.

His footsteps fell in sync with Gojo’s. The door opened before them with a soft ‘swoosh.’

“Let’s just hope they have something…”

Gojo browsed the tampon aisle, his lips pursed into a tight, thin line. His gaze lingered on the variety of the packs.

“Tampons are a no.” Megumi said from beside him, with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Okey-dokey!” Gojo clapped his hands together, “Moving on!”

He rested his chin in his palm thoughtfully.

“Ah, there’s so many…” The man muttered, reaching out for the packs, inspecting them. “Like, I’ve bought pads for her before, but y’know.”

The first time he had ever bought pads for Tsumiki was when she first started her period. Megumi was panicking and irritated with Gojo’s incompetence. Tsumiki was wailing, shaking her head and insisting she didn’t want to die. And so, Gojo had gone to the nearest corner shop, grabbing multiple packs with varying lengths and heaviness, buying more than he needed to.

But what was really awkward was explaining to Tsumiki what a period was. She was only nine years old, after all. He wasn’t even hundred percent sure of the facts itself. But he tried.

“It really isn’t difficult.”

“I brought you here ‘cuz I need your help,” Gojo blurted out, wringing his hands as he rambled, “I just don’t wanna get the wrong thing, or too much, or too little, or make things wor-”

Megumi sighed, and held up a hand, silencing him. He understood Gojo’s nerves, and wanted to help.

“Relax. Look, I understand this can be overwhelming. You’ll be fine. I’ll help you.”

Gojo deflated.

“Oh. Phew! Heh. Teach me, then. I wanna learn. So what about this one?” Gojo prompted, handing a pack to Tsumiki, “Is this like, just for night only, or…?”

“Not necessarily,” Megumi explained. “It’s suggested for night because it’s more absorbent, but it can be used during the day too. “Right, right…”

“The main thing is knowing how heavy the flow is—heavier flow, thicker pad. Lighter flow, thinner pad. And length matters, too.”

“So? How heavy is it?”

“We’ll find out.”

Megumi pulled his phone out of his pocket. It wasn't hard to find Tsumiki in his messages- she was the only contact he had. Well. Apart from Yuuji and Nobara. But he never texted them, and they had only given him their numbers ‘just in case.’

His fingers hovered over the letters as he typed out:

Megumi - Tsumiki

[3:26]

How bad is it?

His gaze lingered on the bubbles as they formed, meaning Tsumiki was typing back.

[8:27]

?

how bad is what?

[8:28]

Your period

[8:28]

not too bad!

…

for now anyways

“She said it’s not too bad.”

“So that means that I get something in the middle, right?”

“Precisely.”

“Hah! Knew it!”

“Now, if you grab the ones with three dots are medium strength. There's also length to consider.”

“So…something like,” Gojo trailed off, reaching for a pack, turning it over as he inspected it, “Like this?”

Megumi glanced at it, and nodded.

“And it hurts, right? ‘Cuz like, one of your internal organs is shedding.”

Megumi simply glared at him, before rubbing a hand along his face as if he had just said the dumbest thing ever.

“Are you being serious right now? It’s as if asking, ‘if you fracture your knee, will it hurt?’ Yes. Obviously it hurts. And a lot, too.”

“Alright! So now, I'm a pro at this!”

Megumi huffed, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now…”

Gojo stood at the counter while the packet of pads were being scanned, tugging at a loose thread on his sleeve before paying and heading back into the car and driving back.

The two of them returned to the restaurant, spotting Tsumiki who was sat alone at a table, her gaze lowered as she wrung her hands. Gojo crouched besides her, placing the pack of pads in her hands as he rested a hand on her arm. Megumi, meanwhile was stuck awkwardly, simply eating his pasta in silence. Gojo, meanwhile, was drumming his fingers along the table as he waited for her to return from the bathroom.

“How you feeling? You're not in, uhm, too much pain or anything, no?”

“N-no, no. It's okay. Sorry about all of that, though. Making a fuss, and all. It's my fault for not coming prepared,” She murmured, pursing her lips into a tight, thin line.

“Huh? Who says it’s your fault? It happened outta nowhere! It's cool, seriously.”

"Wha-what’s?” Tsumiki spluttered, his eyes darting between both Gojo and the catering team, carrying a cake on the platter, abruptly changing the topic.

Gojo, meanwhile, was leaning back in his seal with his arms folded behind his head.

"Hmm? What's what, hime?” He hummed, feigning innocence. But the amused twitching of his lips when he turned away betrayed his amusement.

The catering team approached, carrying a cake.

The woman fumbled with the lighter, before bringing it to the candles scattered across the cake- all sixteen of them. Tsumiki felt the weight of the strangers stare,  multiple pairs of eyes accompanying his every movement. She laughed faintly, feeling the tips of his ears flush.

“Happy Birthday, Tsumiki! Come on, now! Blowout your candles!”

Megumi leaned down, repeatedly huffing at the candles until the flames diminished.

A fond smile graced Gojo’s lips, his heart swelling at the sight.

Once the flames had diminished, Gojo sighed wistfully while swiping at a fake tear.

"Oh, they grow up so fast…” And for once, Megumi found himself unable to be annoyed with Gojo's antics.

Megumi, who was smiling faintly nodded at his older sister.

“Enjoy it, Tsumiki. You deserve it.”

“Oh, you guys…” The girl said, her voice barely above a hushed whisper, a soft grin gracing her features.

Gojo swiped at the frosting of the cake, before popping his finger into his mouth, and humming in delight.

"Here, birthday girl. Say ah!” Goju exclaimed, bringing a spoonful to her lips. Tsumiki blinked before opening her mouth, and biting down on the spoon.

“Oh wow. That really is nice.”

Without forgetting Megumi, Gojo turned his attention to Tsumiki’s younger brother, a smirk on his lips as he held the spoonful of cake near his lips.

“I’m not a baby. Really, it isn’t necessary…”

“I’ll keep my hand here ‘til you do!”

Megumi knew that Gojo was as stubborn as him- if not more, at times. And they both knew that. Megumi finally relented, biting down on the spoon.

"It's...nice," the boy muttered slowly.

“Ha! Glad you like it. Enjoy, you two.”

And so, the three of them ate in silence. (It was mainly Gojo who was eating, anyways.)

Megumi warned: “If you eat so much sweet things, you’ll end up with diabetes.”

His older sister hummed in acknowledgement. “That’s true.”

“Nah,” he scoffed, waving a hand dismissively, swatting away their concern, “Seriously doubt it.”

When the bill arrived, Tsumiki couldn’t help but glance over the price. Were they really that worth it, in his eyes?

The soft murmur of the restaurant faded behind them as Gojo pushed open the door, stepping out into the cool night air. Tsumiki followed closely, his gaze flickering once more to the crumpled bill in his hand, still wondering if the price had truly been worth it.

Tsumiki and Gojo were chatting among themselves.

“So, had fun today?”

“Of course! Thank you so much!” Tsumiki exclaimed. The sight of her grin made Tsumiki’s heart swell with joy, and so, he reached out to lightly stroke her hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetie. It’s nothing.”

Tsumiki giggled at the term of endearment.

“And you, chicky? Had the bestest most awesome day ever with your super cool dad?” Gojo asked, turning to Megumi with a grin.

“You’re not my father. We look nothing alike…”

“Aw, c’mon, Megs! You’re literally the kid I pushed out of my belly button as a teenager!”

The white haired man’s description caught Fushiguro by surprise, making him snort, followed by a faint huff of laughter, making Gojo cheer.

“Yes! Got you to smile! Something I’m working towards doing more often.”

Megumi, still smiling faintly, rolled his eyes. “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

When the car door was pulled open, he climbed in. He still didn’t trust Gojo behind the wheel.

Eventually, Tsumiki fell asleep, her head lolling to the side, her shoulders rising and falling steadily as she breathed. The white haired man noticed this, glancing at them from the mirror. Megumi himself was feeling sleepy; his eyelids growing heavy.

Just as about Megumi was going to fall asleep, Gojo sighed deeply with his hands resting on the steering wheel before announcing:

“Well. We’re here.”

Fushiguro turned to his older sister, his hand hovering near her shoulder to stir her from her sleep. He whispered:

“Tsu-”

“Nah, don’t wake her,” Gojo interjected, waving a hand. Instead, Gojo stepped out of the car, before opening their door. He scooped Tsumiki cautiously to avoid. Megumi rummaged in his pocket for the keys, unlocking the door.

Gojo had carelessly kicked off his shoes, sending them bouncing against the radiator. He removed Tsumiki’s shoes before carrying her into her room, setting her down on the bed, and drawing the covers around her shoulders.

When Megumi had taken his shoes off, he settled down beside Gojo on the edge of Tsumiki’s bed.

“What a day, huh? Seems like just yesterday you two were up to here,” Gojo sighed wistfully, holding up a hand mid-air, barely above his waist.

“The concept of time is weird. It feels like both so much and so little time has passed since then. Since the day we first met.”

He still remembers that day. The sun’s generous rays were shining down, painting the city in a static yellow glow. Megumi, meanwhile, was walking home from school after receiving a scolding about his forgotten homework.

Tsumiki was waiting for him on the balcony, her gaze fixed on the people passing below, scanning for a familiar mop of hair- spiky and erratic.

Someone called out his name. Instinctively, he looked, despite Tsumiki’s warnings about stranger danger.

And there was a teenager. Lithe and lanky. White hair, unruly and messy. Grinning widely as he crouched before the boy.

“Yo. So you’re Megumi Fushiguro, huh?

“And who are you? What’s with the weird face?” The boy scoffed, gesturing towards Gojo’s goofy grin.

“You just…” the teenager trailed off, wrinkling his nose to adjust his sunglasses, “You just kinda look like him. That’s- that’s all…”

Megumi’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“My own issues!” Gojo elaborated.

“So listen, yeah? Something happened to your dad. He was from this big shot Zen’in clan. Not as popular as the Gojo clan, but whatever. They’re such shitty people. They make me sick. But! Anyways! Your dad left them to have you. He came to work for my clan, and. Well, I dunno how to put it delicately. He's left y-"

Megumi turned away from the teenager, frowning.

“I don’t care,” he spat, his tone oozing with malice, “I have no interest in where he is, who he’s with, or what he’s done. It’s been years since I last saw him. I don’t remember what that scum looks like.”

Gojo’s grin faded, replaced by a frown.

“Tsumiki’s mother hasn’t been home for a while now, either. And that means they’re finished with us. So they’re off hooking up somewhere, enjoying themselves. Leaving us behind.”

Gojo’s heart lurched painfully at the ease the young boy explained that, as if it were normal for him. As if he had grown unfazed.

Initially, after hearing that Toji had quit, the higher-ups within Gojo’s clan had sent him to check up on Toji’s child. One of the elders briefly mentioned something about his child, and how they could take Megumi in, too. Train him to be an assassin to replace his father.

But now, after meeting this boy? He wasn’t going to hand him over to the Gojo clan, no matter what. He didn’t know why he felt so protective over someone he just met, but he knew one thing- he himself was going to look after them. Somehow. He’d make it work. He always did.

“Well. Something completely crazy happened to your dad! And I was sent to look after you.”

“Really, now?” Megumi mused, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully, “Your company must have some thorough protocol.”

“Heh. You could say that. But just leave it to me, kid, yeah?” Gojo reached out to playfully ruffle the boy’s head, practically squashing Megumi’s head.

“So then. What’s your name? It’s not fair that only you know mine.” Megumi huffed.

“It’s Satoru. Satoru Gojo. I’ll come see ya tomorrow! I just gotta few things to work out. So take care until then, yeah?”

And with that, Gojo turned away before offering the boy a wave. Megumi didn’t bother returning the wave. If anything, he was extremely confused. But if this meant that there would be someone to manage things, someone to ease Tsumiki’s stress, he’d do it. No matter what.

“Welp,” Gojo muttered, standing to his feet as he stretched, “Better get going now, huh? It’s already super dark. So take care of yourself, yeah? I’ll see you again soon. In fact, wait. Pass me your phone.”

Megumi already knew where this was going, and so, he handed Gojo his phone wordlessly. The boy watched as the older man typed in his number, before handing the phone back.

“I’ll message and call you tomorrow! See ya!”

Gojo grinned, waving, before heading out of the room, leaving Megumi alone in Tsumiki’s room.

Megumi decided to watch Gojo leave from the balcony. He watched as Gojo entered his car before it zoomed off into the night.

Chapter Text

Megumi was washing the dishes, his attention drawn to the faint buzzing from within his pocket. 

Weird. 

If Tsumiki wanted to talk to him, they were in the same house…

He rinsed the soap off of his hands, before drying his hand roughly on the towel. After unlocking the phone, he found a notification from Yuuji. Probably about them doing their assignment at his place. 

[5:47 Me - Yuuji]

yo! 

can u do me a favour

[5:49]

?

do you have a laptop?

or chromebook

literally just whatever 

I do 

can u bring it 

[5:50]

…

Sure?

“Oh, Megumi. I was gonna do the dishes,” Tsumiki piped up, popping up her head around the door, her gaze landing on Megumi hovering by the dishes. 

“It’s not a problem. I’m taking care of it,” the boy muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

Before heading out, Megumi grabbed his school bag, tipping it over and dumping all the contents onto the ground with a clatter. After that, she shoved his laptop inside, shrugging his coat on.

“Where are you going?” Tsumiki piped up, glancing up at him from the sofa. 

“Out,” He stated simply. 

“With who? To do what?” 

“To smoke weed, get high, and go to some random girl’s house to hook up,” He deadpanned, his voice oozing with sarcasm. 

“ What? ”

Megumi grunted, before turning back to face Tsumiki. 

“If you must know, it’s simply an assignment for history at a classmate’s house.” 

“Oh!” She blinked, before nodding at him, “Okay. Have fun.” 

“Fun,” Megumi repeated with a roll of his eyes, “Sure.”

He shut the door behind him cautiously, slipping outside. Goosebumps erupted onto his arms. Already, it was getting dark, with the sun dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of blue.

Yuuji’s flat was centered in the middle of the road, crammed between buildings after Megumi walked straight then turned right, and right again. His finger hovered over the intercom as he racked his brain, trying to recall what number it was. 

Testing his luck, he opted for the number below it. After counting to five in his head, he gave the door a shove while holding the handle. But nothing. 

Then, he tried the number above. Counted to five. Gave the door another shove. But this time, it opened.

The communal area was illuminated by the buzzing, flickering lights overhead. Paint was peeling off of the walls as he passed. Long, metallic bottles of drugs were scattered across the stairs. 

People stood scattered across the communal area, their faces long and gaunt, clothes worn and tattered. The man had a cigarette, poised between his fingers, a cloud of smoke drifting lazily towards the ceiling. The woman, meanwhile, was muttering to himself, the occasional bark of laughter leaving her lips. The other woman, crammed against the side of the wall, was asleep.

Megumi eyed them cautiously, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

“Uhm. ‘Scuse me.” 

They eyed him, before one of them spoke up. 

“It’s you again,” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, either from cigarettes or a lack of dehydration. 

He blinked, and rubbed the back of his neck, dumbfounded that they even remembered his face, three weeks later. 

“Yeah. It- it is.” 

“Not from around here, are ya?” 

Would it be safe to specify just how far? Would they try to rob him? 

“I live…far. Took the bus to get here.” 

“I can see it, ya know.” 

“Huh? See what?” 

“The fear. Everyone’s like that when they talk to us. We don’t bite! But for real though, I see it everywhere. We ain’t out to harm ya. We just tryna get by. Even if drugs are the only way we know how. That pink haired kid seems to get it, though.” 

“W-who? Yuuji?” 

“Yeah. That’s his name. He a friend of yours?” 

“No, but we’re working on an assignment together.” 

“Ah. ‘kay. Good luck, then. Nice talking to ya,” She saluted, pairing it with a lopsided grin. 

The boy nodded back in acknowledgement. 

As the woman jerked her head in the direction of the stairs, the rest of them instantly parted, shifting on the staircase wordlessly, allowing him access.

The raven-haired boy was wandering through the corridors. The lights didn’t flicker here, and drugs weren’t scattered around. It was a nice change. He was honestly expecting to be jumped, to be robbed of everything he had on him. That laptop would make them good money. 

And yet…they didn’t.

Maybe they weren’t all so bad as he previously thought.

Yuuji currently had a palm pressed up against the door along with his ear, listening for movement or shuffling on the other side. Kugisaki, meanwhile, had her arms folded across her chest, watching him with a frown.

“Hurry it up!” She demanded. 

“Shh! Be quiet!” Yuuji hissed, jerking his head in the direction of the door. 

Megumi simply sighed. 

“Must we be so secretive?” 

“Are you crazy? I do not wanna get my ass kicked by my brother! He’s the worst when he comes back from work!” 

“Ha! Imagine. Couldn’t be me. I’m an only child,” She declared, an amused grin skittering across her lips.

Yuuji turned his back on the duo, rummaging through his pockets for the keys. He twisted the lock until it gave way with a satisfactory click. “Yeah yeah, we know you’re lucky…”

The trio took their shoes off, carefully setting them aside. 

Megumi shrugged the bag off that was dangling from his shoulder, before pulling out his laptop as he was asked, tucking it under his armpit. 

“Here it is.” 

“Thanks, man! You’re the best.” 

“Stop flattering me over the smallest things…” Megumi deadpanned, averting his gaze to the side.

“So…” Yuuji trailed off, his gaze fixed ahead. 

“So? So what? Speak up.” 

“Think the best place to do this is at the kitchen counter, yeah?” 

Kugisaki and Megumi exchanged glances.

“Sure.” 

She said, while Megumi said:

“I see no problem, really.” 

Nobara settled onto a stool surrounding the kitchen counter. Megumi settled on the chair furthest from them, setting his laptop down. It was clear he had never belonged, anyways. 

He was only there for their convenience. But his, too. It saved him from being paired up with people he didn’t know. Again, this was all about benefits. He wouldn’t- no, couldn’t get attached. People would leave him; they always did. So there’s no point in getting attached.

From her bag she pulled out a pencil case, displaying it on the table. 

“Alright then. Let’s go over this,” Yuuji spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention, “So, we’re focusing on the war guilt, right?” 

“Our goal is to create a poster based around it.” 

“Better than an essay,” Yuuji snorted. 

“Literally.” 

“Don’t jinx it,” Megumi chided, “We might actually end up with an essay next week.” 

The pink haired whined, burying his face in his palms. Nobara groaned, and punched the boy’s shoulder. 

“You idiot! If we get an essay next week, it’s on you! ” 

“Can we please focus?” He sighed, before clearing his throat, “Let’s start with what we know.” 

Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara sat on stools scattered around the kitchen aisle. The trio were going over what they knew, filling in the gaps between the others' knowledge. 

Yuuji and Megumi had gotten into a fight over the facts.

“No! I swear it was just that John Foster guy who wrote the article 231!”  

“I’m telling you, there was another person. ” Megumi deadpanned, his chin propped up lazily in his palm.

“Yeah? Prove it!” 

“How am I supposed to do that when I can’t remember his name?” He countered, throwing his hands in the air out of frustration. 

“Ughh! You two are doing my head in!” She groused, flipping through her history book, finding the section they were bickering over. 

“Look!” She turned the book over, holding it up to display it before the two of them. “Megumi’s right!” 

The two of them turned to look at the book displayed before them, specifically the words that were written above her finger. 

“Oh. Ohh! It was also Norman Davis…the american diplomat,” The pink haired boy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly, earning a sharp glare from Megumi, while Nobara clicked her tongue. 

“Let’s get back on track.” 

Nobara muttered something under her breath, setting down her book as they talked, agreeing on what they were and weren’t going to cover in the poster. Nobara was hunched over the stool, jotting down notes about what they said to remember.

Megumi opened up his laptop, the white glow of the screen illuminating his face. He unlocked his laptop, before sliding it over for the rest of them to see. 

It was decided- Nobara was mainly focused on working on the presentation of the poster, but writing down the information was split between the three of them. 

“Come closer, Megumi,” Nobara spoke up, making Megumi falter, “But don’t let any of this go to your head! I’m tired of you yanking the poster randomly,” She grumbled. Yuuji snorted, as if not believing her entirely.

He blinked, before dragging his stool along, making him wince as it harshly scraped the floor. 

He was sat between the two of them, Yuuji on his right, Nobara on his left. Kugisaki occasionally leaned over his shoulder, muttering under her breath, before returning her attention back to his work. Yuuji’s elbow occasionally brushed against Megumi’s. He muttered an apology every time, but truthfully, Megumi didn’t mind it. 

There was something…soothing about this moment, to say the least. He was surrounded by the warmth of his classmates. There was no noise, save for the scratch of pen against paper, or a muttered apology. 

He couldn’t help but wonder- was this what would having friends be like? 

He didn’t need friends, don’t be stupid. And besides, everyone would leave him in the end, anyways. 

Even his own dad. 

At this point, Yuuji’s elbow was pressed up entirely against Megumi’s. He didn’t protest. He didn’t pull away. He enjoyed the contact, and chose to relish in it while it lasted, no matter how stupid it was. 

This was nice. Him and his classmates, working on a project.

Kugisaki, meanwhile, was humming innocently after she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She’d shoot the two of them the occasional sidelong glance, as if expecting something. 

“Ugh, how can I be stuck with people so stupid? How haven’t you two noticed?”  Nobara whined, shattering the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Yuuji looked up, arching a brow at her, while Megumi blinked. 

“Huh?” 

“What?” 

“My earrings!” 

Megumi’s gaze landed on it- the black roses dangling from her ears, attached to her lobes by a silver hook. 

“Whoa! Nobara! Your grandma finally let you pierce your ears!” 

“Nah,” the girl snorted, pairing it with a grin, “Just snuck off after school and got it done. Payed the woman extra. She didn’t care. But my grandma’s so pissed! It’s just a piercing! Not a cult symbol!” 

Megumi hummed, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully. 

“Hmm. It’s elegant.” 

And for a moment, the three of them settled back into silence until:

“Yuuji. Yuujii.” 

“ What? What is it, Kugisaki? I’m busy!” Yuuji hissed, his gaze glued to the poster.

“And I’m hungry!” 

Yuuji paused, and wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. 

“Huh. Now that I think about it, yeah. Me too. And you?” 

Megumi didn’t need to glance up from his work to know that Yuuji was referring to him. 

“Not really,” He muttered. But why was he afraid? He was hungry, so he should've just said so. 

“Thing is, though…we only have leftover pizza. Sorry ‘bout that,” Yuuji hummed sheepishly, shrugging.

“You didn’t even think about that? Some great host you are!” 

“Oh, well I’m sorry I have, like, a bajillion different things going on in my life and couldn’t keep track of this one thing!” He shot back. 

“ Enough, ” Megumi grunted, shifting the attention of the duo towards him, “Yes. Pizza will be fine. Thank you.” 

“Finally,” the pink haired boy muttered under his breath, sliding out of his seat. Then, he reached for the box on top of the microwave, placing it into it, watching the food rotate until it was done, 

“Someone appreciates me.”

Megumi huffed, the corners of his lips twitching up in amusement. Kugisaki gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“You can smile? ”

“Yes, believe it or not. It's just not something I do around you.”

“Damn. Maybe you’re more interesting than I give you credit for.” 

Deciding to make himself useful, Megumi shut the lid of his laptop off, before sliding it aside. Nobara followed suit, zipping up her pencil case after she slid her highlighters back in. As Megumi was about to fold the poster in half, Kugisaki’s hand darted out, her fingers securing around his wrist. 

The sudden contact made Megumi flinch violently, making him involuntary lurch back slightly. She didn’t let go. It’s oddly intimate, feeling the pad of her thumb press up against his protruding wrist bone. Or maybe he’s just touch-starved, and blowing this whole thing out of proportion.

“Don’t,” She warned, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, “Don’t fold it.” 

“Why?” 

“Are you stupid? When you fold it, there’s crease lines! I hate crease lines.” 

The raven haired boy blinked, his gaze briefly flitting to the poster, before he moved it aside instead of folding it. 

She rolled her eyes, feigning irritation, before releasing his wrist from her hold. But he missed the warmth of her skin seeping into his. 

Yuuji insisted, nudging the pizza box forth as he approached: “You have got to try it.” 

Megumi hummed, his gaze landing on the pizza, slices of salami, sweetcorn and peppers- then came the pineapple. He eyed it sceptically.

“Ew! Get away from me, you freak! Eating pineapple on pizza? What kinda psycho are you?” Nobara exclaimed, wrinkling her nose, jabbing a finger at the pineapple.

“Shut up. It’s not being a freak,” Yuuji scoffed, taking a slice of pizza and chewing, “It’s having good taste. I bet you’ve never even tried it!” 

“Yeah. ‘cuz it’s gross! ”

Megumi blinked, his gaze darting between the two of them. Then, without warning, he reached for the slice, taking a bite out of it. He chewed thoughtfully, his expression remaining impassive. Nobara and Yuuji watched carefully, eager for his reaction. 

He shook his head. The taste of the pineapple overpowered the peppers and salami. It was too sweet for him.

“It’s not for me. It's weird.”

Yuuji whined, and Nobara pumped the air with her fist. 

“Told you,” She snorted, picking the pineapple off of her slice, and dropping it onto Yuuji’s plate. Megumi did the same, making Yuuji shrug. 

“Hey. More for me, I guess.”

“Does Sukuna like it, too?” Nobara asked in between a mouthful. 

Yuuji nodded. 

Megumi arched a brow. 

“Who’s Sukuna?” 

“He’s my older brother!” 

Megumi wrinkled his nose, “A total nuisance, from the way you describe him,” making Kugisaki snort.

“Hey!” Yuuji piped up, shooting him a sharp glare, “Yeah, I know he's a jerk. But you don't get the right to say that! He’s been doing everything for us for years, taking care of everything. He started working before it was even legal to. So if anyone gets to hate on him, it’s me. ”

Tsumiki. 

He reminded Megumi of Tsumiki. 

An older sibling who was forced to grow up too fast, raising themselves and their younger sibling to the best of their ability.

It’s ironic, really. That someone as loud and lively as Yuuji could have common ground with someone as gloomy and miserly as Megumi. 

Megumi wet his lip, averting his gaze to the wall, “...Oh,” The raven haired boy muttered weakly, feeling a sharp sense of shame bloom in his chest, “My apologies. I didn’t know.”

“It’s whatever,” Yuuji sighed, reaching for another slice, “Just…don’t do it again.” 

A silence settled over the three of them, hanging thick in the air.

Without warning, the door burst open. From the corridor stood a man- a pink head of hair to match Yuuji’s, but his shoulders were broader, his jaw sharper. His hi-vis jacket was illuminated by the glow of the light. Underneath his jacket was a grey long-sleeve, with trousers to match. 

“The hell’s going on here?” 

The three of them froze. 

“Oh, uhm. H-hey. We’re just…doing a history assignment,” Before Sukuna could open his mouth to protest, Yuuji cut him off, “We’ll be quick! I swear!” 

Sukuna groaned, his gaze lingering on them sceptically as he set a bag down on the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, whatever. You’re lucky I’m in no mood for this, you damn brat,” He groused, kicking off his shoes, before rubbing his temple wearily. 

“Is this your girlfriend?” He asked, jerking his head in the direction of the girl, “Never would’ve known you had the ability to take a hint, considering how dense you are,” Sukuna mused, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Kugisaki spat, slamming her palm against the table for emphasis. 

Sukuna raised his eyebrows at the gesture. 

“My, it appears someone has anger issues, hmm?” 

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear it from you! I’m only defending my honour! I’d never date someone useless, broke, smelly, stingy, or dead like- like him! ” She announced, stubbornly folding her arms folded across her chest.

Sukuna hummed, as if satisfied. 

“At least you have taste. Dating my brother would not be ideal.”

“Hey!” Yuuji huffed, shooting his older brother an unamused glare, “Dating you wouldn't be ideal either, y’know!” 

“Hmm…Yuuji, do you remember that girl you did an assignment with, last year?” 

“Uh? What are you- no. No! Don't-” 

Kugisaki rolled her eyes, her chin resting in her palm. “Ugh, spit it out.” 

“There was this classmate of his, I recall. She was definitely enamoured with me, to say the least,” When his voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, he added: “She was ogling my arms.” 

“Ewww,” Nobara groaned. Megumi huffed, and Yuuji gagged. 

“That’s disgusting. Literally disgusting. ” 

“I did, of course, politely reject her. She’s a minor. People who take advantage of minors have a special place reserved for them in hell.” 

“That is probably the only thing we’d ever agree on,” Megumi muttered under his breath, and Kugisaki nodded.

Meanwhile, something Yuuji had been desperate to ask Fushiguro for a while popped into his mind.

“Do you like mashed potatoes, Megumi?” Yuuji asked abruptly. 

“Yes,” Megumi blinked, arching a brow at him “I suppose so.” 

“That’s actually crazy accurate. ‘Cuz I feed your mii character mashed potatoes and he likes it, too.” 

“What is a…what even is that?” Megumi spluttered.

“Okayhangonberightbackgottashowyousomething!” Yuuji exclaimed abruptly. The three of them blinked. 

Yuuji retreated from his room, and he was holding up his DS. It was a small device, with a top half and bottom half. On each side was a small screen, and besides them were small buttons.

“No way!” Nobara shrieked, leaning over Yuuji’s shoulder, “You still have one of those? Tomodachi life was literally, like, my childhood!” 

“Yeah! Still works, ‘cuz we kept it in pretty good condition.” 

Megumi blinked. “What’s Tomodachii life?” 

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS?” Both Itadori and Kugisaki screeched, shooting him equally mortified and distraught looks. Even Sukuna’s eyebrows shot up.

“Megumi, I’m extremely curious. Did you have any semblance of a childhood?” Sukuna asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious.

That comment, for whatever reason, stung. Of course he had a childhood- everyone did. 

“Yes, I had a childhood. And no. I don’t know what it is. So will you answer my question, or not?”

“So it’s basically, like, a game. With an island. On the island you have characters, and the first character you make is your “lookalike", ‘cuz, y’know. It represents the player. So anyways, you give them food, buy them rooms for their apartments and clothes. You can make more characters at Town Hall. The characters can sing and dance. They can also, like, be friends, get relationships, and have drama.” 

“I see…” 

“Like, lemme show you.” 

On the screen was a miniature character with green eyes and erratic, spiky hair and dull eyes, representing Megumi. He sat down on the sofa besides Sukuna, gesturing for everyone else to do the same.

“But why is it…Megumi Megumi Megumi?” The raven haired boy asked, peering over Yuuji’s shoulder. 

“Oh! Didn't know your full name, so, y’know. Just had to make it up, heh.”

Then, there was another character, with cropped brown hair and a wide grin, representing Nobara, who eagerly waved.

“Tch. Looks decent. But no character could ever measure up to my beauty!” Kugisaki remarked, jabbing a thumb at herself with pride. 

“Egotistical,” Sukuna hummed, grinning. 

She simply rolled her eyes. “And so are you.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Sukuna hummed, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

Yuuji moved on, showing them Sukuna’s mii. Red eyes, and pink hair, and-

“Why- why does Sukuna’s hair look like that?” She exclaimed, a hand hovering over mouth as she laughed.

“Seriously, Yuuji. Change it. It's disgusting.”

“Nah. It's funny.”

Fushiguro’s gaze lingered on the screen as they laughed and chatted. “I…don't know how to feel about this. It feels a little creepy, to say the least,” Megumi mused, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully.

Yuuji’s older brother nodded.“That’s what I said.”

“Now that I think about it, it kinda is…” Kugisaki mused.

“How? Isn’t it funny? I get to buy you clothes, and feed you, and entertain you guys in the game. Y’know?” Yuuji asked, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

Without warning, the screen flickered, before going completely blank. Yuuji slumped on the sofa, and threw his head back with a dramatic groan.

“Can’t believe it died…”

So then the pink haired boy retreated into the kitchen, rummaging through the draws for the charger.

Fushiguro, Kugisaki and Sukuna set there in an awkward silence. Megumi blurted out: “Why do your tattoos look like several lines and circles?” his gaze lingering on Sukuna’s tattoos.

“Ah, you see. These are tattoos based off of criminals from the Heian area. Each tattoo resembles a different crime. In Japan, they would use tattoos in the Edo period to identify criminals under what institution that they were being held in.”

“He’s such a history nerd,” Yuuji whispered to Kugisaki after he came back from the kitchen, settling down beside them. Yuuji cupped a hand around his mouth, making her snicker. Megumi exhaled through his nose, almost in amusement, making Sukuna grunt. 

“Watch your mouth, brat. Anyways, back to what I was saying- The tattoos of the Edo period were strong signifiers; murderers had head tattoos, while theft might result in an arm tattoo. This practice, irezumi kei , or tattoo penalty, replaced the more bloodthirsty decapitations and removal of limbs that preceded it.”

“However,” Sukuna continued while gesticulating, “head tattoos also operated on a three strikes system, each crime punished with a single stroke of a Chinese symbol after which was death. Each region had its own symbol representing both crime and location, rendering it possible to immediately identify the details of the act committed.” 

“I see,” Megumi hummed, nodding thoughtfully, “I never assumed you enjoyed History. I believed you were the type to smoke weed, and drop out of school.” 

At this, Yuuji cackled. Sukuna merely shrugged. 

“What can I say? I don’t blame you. My appearance does imply that.” 

“Have you committed any of those crimes?” 

“Well, yes,” Sukuna mused, examining his nails, flexing and unflexing his fingers before him. He didn’t need to turn his head to see the mortification on both Megumi and Nobara’s face. Yuuji, meanwhile, looked confused.

“Only petty theft, in case you’re wondering,” He elaborated, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, revealing sharp, canine-like teeth.

“Course…” Itadori sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Watch it. You still have to wash the dishes,” Sukuna warned. 

Yuuji grunted, before reluctantly getting up off of the sofa, and heading into the kitchen.

Nobara was sat beside Sukuna, an arm draped on the sofa behind where she sat. She held up her phone for him to view, discussing something. His chin was resting in his palm thoughtfully. 

“Hmm. I see. It’s undeniably cute.”

“Ha! At least you have taste. Unlike Itadori.”

Seizing the opportunity, he decided to follow Yuuji as he stood up. Guilt still lingered from his earlier remark about Sukuna.

Yuuji had his sleeves rolled up, a sponge in one hand, and a plate in the other. He held the plate under the running tap, rinsing it off. 

“Hello,” Megumi started, awkwardly, hovering behind him.

“Oh!” The pink haired boy exclaimed, the plate slipping from his hand,“Whoa. Megumi, man. You scared me.” 

“Oh. That wasn’t, uhm…intentional,” 

Yuuji muttered something under his breath, turning his attention back to the plate, rinsing it fully before setting it down.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s cool,” Yuuji shrugged it off, setting the dish down, “So…there anything you wanna talk to me about?” 

“Your older brother, Sukuna. He just…reminds me of someone.” 

“Yeah? Who?” 

“My older sister, Tsumiki,” Megumi began quietly, lowering his gaze to the floor (which had become so interesting, all of a sudden.) 

“We’ve never had it easy, but even then. She’s done everything for us. She’s worked so hard for us. So I truly am sorry for what I said about him, earlier.” 

At this, Yuuji felt a sense of kinship.

“No way! Would you look at that! The two of us- having something in common!” He exclaimed, grinning. 

Megumi rolled his eyes, feigning irritation. The corners of his lips twitching up in amusement betrayed his true feelings. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

Yuuji playfully bumped Megumi’s shoulder. 

“You’re actually pretty cool. We should be friends!” 

“...Huh?” Friends? Why would he want that? Everyone left, even his own dad. And he knew that all too well. There was no real guarantee they’d be friends for long, anyways. He was probably just saying that for fun.

Friends. It sounded…nice. 

But- 

“Is this some kind of joke?” Megumi snapped, his voice coming out harsher than intended. Hurt flickered across Yuuji’s features, and Megumi couldn't help but feel guilty. It was too late to take it back, now. 

The raven-haired boy sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“There’s nothing interesting about me. You’d get bored of me, and then our relationship will be strained. Because you’re too nice.” 

“Uh??” Yuuji exclaimed, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. “Get- get bored? What are you on about? Why'd I get bored of you? Like, yeah, sure, you're quiet and serious, but not boring. ” 

Those words felt like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from his lungs. 

He wanted to push Yuuji away, but he…couldn't. He felt bad. Maybe it was because now they shared common ground- he wasn't sure why. 

“We shouldn't be friends anyway,” Megumi muttered, weakly. As if he was hesitating. He shouldn’t be. He knew how to push people away. 

Without warning, there was a faint flickering, somewhere to the right. Blue electric flames leapt up from the stove, crackling. Sukuna was stood by the stove, twisting the knob. As the flame leapt, he brought a cigarette to it. 

He twisted the knob, and the flame died down. Sukuna brought the cigarette to his lips, letting out a long drag. 

“Sukuna! Stop smoking indoors!” Yuuji scolded. 

“Why?” 

Yuuji coughed dramatically, waving a hand to swat the smoke away. He did it deliberately to make Sukuna feel guilty and relent. 

“Ugh, fine, fine.” 

So then, Sukuna opened the door of the balcony, before slipping outside. 

Yuuji sighed softly, and turned away, heading back into the living room without sparing Megumi a second glance. 

Something drew Megumi towards the balcony. 

Sukuna was stood there, his elbows lazily propped up against the railing, a cigarette poised between his lips. As he exhaled, the cloud of smoke drifted up, up and up, almost touching the night sky itself. 

Whether Sukuna heard Megumi or not, he didn’t know. He showed no signs of it. 

Megumi stepped forward, despite the cold seeping through his clothes, stiffening his muscles. 

“Hello,” Sukuna began, without sparing him a glance. 

Megumi merely nodded in acknowledgement. He didn’t know what to say, so he blurted out: 

“You remind me of someone.” 

“Do I, now? That’s typically a negative thing. I’m often compared to a relative who flunked school and resorted to drinking until they’re sick and has a crippling drug addiction. Something tells me this’ll be different.” 

“You remind me of my sister.” 

“Ah. So a positive, then. Why?” 

“She’s worked hard for years. For the both of us, to provide for us. I can only imagine it’s not easy.” 

Sukuna hummed absently in agreement. 

“I see. Interesting. I never would’ve imagined that someone like you and Yuuji would have common ground,” A pause, and then: “He tells me about you a lot, you know.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s always small, stupid things. Like, ‘I saw Megumi in the lunch line today,’ or ‘Walked past him in the halls today. He looked lonely.’ I always roll my eyes at this. I ask why he doesn’t just go up and say hi. He always shrugs and says he doesn’t know how to. He is trying, you know.” 

Megumi grunted in acknowledgement. 

“You sound displeased. Is he not enjoyable to be around?” 

“No, no…” The raven-haired boy sighed softly, and shook his head. “It’s not- not that. Friendships are useless. Getting close to people is fruitless. They all abandon you in the end.” 

“Personal experience?” he asked, more of a statement than a question. The corner’s of Megumi’s lips curled into a frown. 

“Frankly, whether it is or isn’t is none of your concern,” He gritted through clenched teeth. 

Sukuna didn’t even blink at the sudden outburst, merely shrugging it off.

“Hmm. Fair point. Although, consider my counterpoint: is your life really worth living like that? Full of regrets? Would you be satisfied, dying alone? Assuming and actively experiencing something are two different things. Yes, people drift apart, and sometimes, they leave you. Betray you. Hurt you. But how will you know the ending without reading the beginning?” 

“But what if it’s just a continuous cycle of getting close to someone, only to get hurt?” Megumi countered, arching a brow.

Sukuna shrugged, before raising the cigarette to his lips to take a long drag, feeling the tobacco clouding his lungs. 

“You tell me, Megumi.” 

At this, the raven-haired boy went quiet. Sukuna finally turned to face Megumi, his gaze no longer fixed on the skyline stretched out before them.

Sukuna made a good point. Loneliness had become his cocoon, encasing him, protecting him. But never allowing him to bloom. 

He remembers the surge of warmth in his chest, surrounded by Itadori and Kugisaki, doing nothing but working in silence with their elbows pressed against each other. 

He had never had friends before. Maybe, if anything else, he could become friends with them to prove Sukuna wrong. Something about his words had stung, and Megumi did enjoy being right about everything. 

He could just maintain basic conversations and pretend to be engaged. Then, they’ll get bored of him and leave. They always do.

 He didn’t say anything, simply staring, as if trying to slip through his armour, nothing more than pairs of bones that guarded his heart, bare and beating. 

Megumi huffed. “Staring at me like that is making me feel self-conscious.” 

“My apologies.” 

“Something tells me you’re not sorry at all,” the boy groused, shooting Sukuna a sidelong glance. 

“Guilty as charged,” He hummed, followed by a chuckle. 

“I’ll become friends with them to prove you wrong,” Megumi relented. 

“Oh? Is this a bet? Well then. What are you after?” 

“The satisfaction of being right.” 

“I see. So, if you win, and they do leave you after two weeks, you get the satisfaction of being right. However, if I win, and they don’t leave you, I have one condition.” 

“Which is?” 

“Become their friend for beyond the sake of a bet.” 

“Hmph. Deal.”

“It’s settled, then, Megumi,” Sukuna said, slapping the upside of Megumi’s head, making the boy scowl, and he swatted Sukuna’s arm in retaliation. 

All he had to do was maintain conversation and pretend to be engaged for two weeks. He could do that. 

“What are you really gaining from this?” 

“Some peace and quiet,” Sukuna hummed, shrugging, “I’m tired of that brat ranting to me about you. If you two become friends, I won’t hear any more of that.” 

The raven-haired boy scoffed: “How selfless.” 

“So I’ve been told. Now, come inside. You’re going to catch a cold if you stand outside for any longer.” 

Sukuna stubbed the cigarette out against the railing, watching the flame die out against the cool metal, before tossing the cigarette aside, and gesturing for Megumi to follow him back inside. 

And so he did, sliding the balcony door shut behind him. 

“Sukuna! Don’t tell me you offered Megumi a cigarette!” Yuuji scoffed from the kitchen stool, Nobara perched beside him, his voice sailing through the house. 

“Relax, you moron. I’m not that foolish.” 

“Have- have you guys been working without me?” Megumi asked, wringing his hands nervously.”

“Nah, not really,” Itadori shrugged, “Relax. It’s just been Kugisaki complaining about my handwriting and trying to make everything aesthetic. You’ve missed nothing, trust.” 

Kugisaki scolded with a hand planted on her hip: “Presentation is important! We’re gonna get marked down with that ugly-ass handwriting with yours!” 

“Are we all…done here?” The raven haired boy asked.

“Pretty much,” Yuuji concluded, shrugging. 

Megumi slid his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time. 6:47, and four missed calls from Tsumiki. 

“It’s getting late. I have to go.” He didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to get attached. 

“Oh. For real?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Take the homework with you, yeah?” Yuuji prompted hopefully, “Sukuna’s cigarettes are gonna burn it, and Nobara’s dog might eat it.”

“Oh. Of course, then,” He muttered, shoving his laptop and the poster into his discarded bag. 

“See ya soon, Megumi!” 

“Sooner hopefully than later. Only you can tolerate someone so stupid,” Nobara snorted, rolling her eyes, but there was a hint of warmth in her tone that he hadn’t heard before. He didn’t know how to feel. 

Yuuji hissed: “Shut up!” 

Megumi would’ve just turned and walked away, but for the sake of the bet…

He turned around, offering a small wave, catching sight of Sukuna’s smirk from the corner of his eye. 

“You too, Yuuji. And Nobara.” 

All he had to do was maintain conversation and pretend to be engaged for two weeks. He could do that. Easy, right?

Chapter Text

Toji woke up, feeling the concrete beneath him digging into his temple. Rubbing his eyes, he shifted into a sitting position. The bins were overflowing with rubbish, scratch marks in the bags from racoons and cats. 

The last thing Toji remembered was flirting with the bartender, with her large chest and white hair, escaping her ponytail. She slid the drink over to him, and- 

The drink was spiked. 

Immediately, he patted down his pockets, frantically rummaging through them to search for the cash he had shoved in there. 

That was gone, too. 

The nerve of that woman, stealing his money and spiking his drink, all before dumping him into some random alley. 

He pulled himself to his feet, and he knew what he had to do. 

He found himself back in a bar. Pinpricks of light were scattered across the bar, the music pumping from the speakers making his head throb. But if this meant he could get a warm bed, and food in his stomach, he wouldn’t complain. 

It was easier to find a woman to leech off of if they were alone. His gaze immediately fell onto a woman who was perched on a stool by the counter, with her shoulders exposed, and in a black dress that rode dangerously high above her thighs. 

Toji slid in beside her. He wasn’t paying attention to her- not really. He did what he always did, throwing in a few laughs or asking the right questions when needed. 

The woman’s hand hovered mid-air, her gaze falling on his bicep. 

“Can I?” 

“Course.” 

She giggled when squeezing his muscles. The sound was forced, and oozing with sweetness, as if it was something she practiced. 

This was his chance. He leaned in, his warmth breath a gentle caress against her ear.

“Why don’t we…take this somewhere else? I’ll show you the rest of my muscles.” 

She playfully nipped at his ear, giggling again, before agreeing. 

Which is how he found himself here, with a blanket draped over them, trapping their shared heat beneath them, with their legs tangled together. In some random hotel room. 

He slid out of bed without her stirring or insisting that he come back to lie with her.

Thank goodness she wasn’t the clingy type. 

He squirted toothpaste onto his brush before brushing his teeth, and splashing water onto his face. 

As he stared into the mirror, he was met by the sight of green eyes. Murky, like a football pitch. And for a second, he looked so much like Megumi. 

Megumi. His son.

What had he done? 

Now that the alcohol had worn off, he was forced to face it. He really did just walk away from Megumi, leaving him bleeding and bruised. 

He had to make this right. Would he even want to make this right? 

It was better than hopping from woman to woman for a living. How selfish of him, thinking what would be better for him when Megumi was hurt. Maybe his next actions were selfish. Maybe his first priority was always himself, and always would be. He was just rotten and selfish and cruel and- but he could never be free of the guilt of touching another woman apart from his wife. 

Her bag was discarded onto the floor, around the discarded clothes, with cash spilling out of it. Toji shoved all of that into his own pockets. 

He had got what he needed. 

So now, he was going to leave 

Tsumiki had already left for school, tying her laces while rambling about a school council meeting. Megumi, who was still half dressed, offered to walk with her. Tsumiki shrugged it off, insisting she didn’t want to be late. So instead, he walked to school himself. It was always more boring without her.

All he had to do was find Yuuji, and agree to be friends. A shrill, piercing sound rang out, carried by the wind, signalling the start of class. 

Megumi settled into his usual seat, with his coat draped on the back of his seat, and his bag beside him on the floor.

Megumi arched a brow upon seeing Shoko, hovering around the door to their form room. She nodded at him in acknowledgement, and Megumi offered a brief wave. He had always come earlier than the rest of his classmates. Tsumiki insisted it was better to attend events earlier rather than later, and prided herself on managing time well.

“Looks like you haven’t slept.” 

“What gave that away?” Shoko snorted, before gesturing to the dark rings under her eye, “My eyebags?” 

He stepped closer, the scent of smoke clinging to her.

“Very funny,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes, “But seriously. It’s important to get adequate sleep.”

“Kinda hard to do that when you’re a huge procrastinator and you end up having to grade papers in the night.”

The raven-haired boy eventually nodded. 

“Fair.” 

“Enough about me. How are you? Anything crazy going on in your life?” She asked, changing the topic. 

“How crazy would it be to say that my father suddenly appeared out of nowhere and is now back into our lives?” Megumi asked. The words were crawling up his throat, and were poised on the tip of his tongue. But it was too late to take it back now. It was surprising that he was telling her this, out of all people.

The woman snorted, and swatted his arm playfully. 

“Ha! Look at that. You, making a joke. Never thought I’d see the day.” 

Fushiguro blinked. 

Ieiri tilted her head to the side, wrinkling her nose. 

“Was… that a joke? It was kinda funny.” 

“Do you see me smiling?” 

Shoko pursed her lips, before whistling, her lips forming the same way when there’s a cigarette poised between them. 

“Damn. Sorry about laughing.” 

The boy hummed, then shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“You didn’t know. I don’t mind.” 

An awkward silence settled over the two of them. 

“...Ah, sorry about the awkwardness. I never know what to say in situations like this.” 

Fushiguro exhaled through his nose in bitter amusement. 

“Me neither.” 

Shoko fished through her pockets, before pulling out the keys, and inserting the key into the hole, twisting until it gave way with a satisfactory click. She waved a hand, gesturing for him to sit inside. 

He did so, taking his seat right at the front, his classmates spilling in. 

Eventually, Itadori and Kugisaki entered, the two of them sliding in beside him. Shuffling and chatter mingled together. 

“So, about yesterday-” 

“Yuuji, I wanted to-” 

“Okay, you go first, Megumi.” 

“...Let’s be friends,” Megumi muttered, albeit reluctantly after sucking in a sharp breath to brace himself.

Yuuji gasped, before a grin graced his lips. “For real??” 

“Guess you’re more interesting than I give you credit for. Never thought you’d actually wanna be someone’s friend,” Nobara mused, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully.

Megumi simply rolled his eyes. He wasn’t planning on revealing the true reason he was agreeing to all of this.

“Yes! Let’s go!” Yuuji cheered, punching the air. 

Megumi arched a brow. “I must ask, why are you so intent on being my friend?” 

“I see you around, like, all the time. And I dunno how to just…” Yuuji began, wringing his hands as he started ranting, “go up to you, and start talking, y’know? It’s been bothering me for ages. And you’re like, super cool. You’re smart, and witty, and you can keep up with Nobara’s sass-” 

The brown haired girl punched Itadori in the arm lightly. 

“ Stop with the gushing!”

“What? I’m answering his question!” He shot back, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. Nobara huffed, a strand of hair flying up, and rested her chin in her palm. 

“I’m…flattered,” Fushiguro said under his breath, nodding slightly. He didn’t know how else to put it. He didn’t know what to name the surge of warmth that had bloomed in his chest. Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. 

Fushiguro handed them the timetable that he had stored in his pocket. Neatly folded, and not creased. 

“Here. You two will need this more than I do, so you can adjust to your new timetable.” 

The two of them scanned the paper, taking in the information. 

“Oh! Thanks, man.” 

Megumi waved a hand, dismissing Yuuji’s thanks. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s nothing. I don’t need it, anyways.”

Kugisaki snatched the paper from Itadori’s hand, inspecting it before shoving it into her pocket. 

“Hmph. I don’t trust you with things.” 

“Uhm, rude! Especially cuz you’re the one always losing your things!” 

“So does everyone!” The girl countered. 

“Anyways…” Yuuji muttered, scanning the timetable, “You’re in class B102 for science! Got it! We’ll meet you there, ‘kay?” 

Megumi blinked. But by then, students were already leaving for their first lessons. Yuuji waved at him quickly, before dashing ahead to reach Nobara so they could get to their science class.

So, Fushiguro headed to his science class. He kept his head down and took notes after settling into class, the faint ticking of a clock serving as a backdrop. 

When the ball rang, students leaped from their seats, shoving their books into their bags.

When the lesson was over, Kugisaki and Itadori were hovering by the door.

Kugisaki clicked her tongue once Fushiguro finally exited, his bag dangling from one shoulder. She gestured for him to follow with a hand before turning to Itadori, furiously ranting about something. 

Their steps fell in sync as they weaved through the crowd, Fushiguro elbowing and shoving past students. Yuuji was leaning over slightly, straining his ears to hear her.

“...What happened?” Fushiguro asked eventually, once the crowd had thinned.

“Ugh, that- that…” she threw her hands up into the air, at a loss for words, “Words don’t even describe what a piece of shit he is!” 

“What who is?” 

“Our science teacher,” Yuuji muttered, his gaze fixed on Nobara.

“He’s such a fucking creep! Oggling my legs and chest- in plain sight, too.” 

Megumi wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“Isn’t there anything you can do? Anyone you can tell?” Yuuji suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“They won’t do anything,” Megumi cut in, sighing deeply, “There’s no solid proof, after all. And besides, they’re desperate. Re-hiring would be most inconvenient.” 

“So?? I’m not gonna let one of my friends be oggled by some filthy shit!” The pink haired boy scoffed. 

“Well then, I suggest you complain to the headteacher, Mr. Masamichi.” 

Nobara huffed. 

“Yeah. Might as well try that old hag.” After a pause, she added: “Damn. I must really be desperate.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I…uhm, typically eat cold lunch,” Megumi muttered, shoving his hands in his pocket.

“Cold lunch? That’s lame as hell,” Nobara deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “Hot lunch is like, the superior choice. Duh!” 

“Yeah!” Yuuji exclaimed, nodding, “Come with us.” 

Yuuji jerked his head in the direction of the lunch line. Nobara nodded, while Megumi hovered around awkwardly. Then, Yuuji lifted the string, waving his hand to usher Nobara in. Megumi had no choice but to follow. Once they had pushed into the lunch line, they were immediately crammed, pressed up against the walls. 

“We’re not even supposed to be here! The year 10’s have priority because of their mock exams!” Megumi hissed, shooting the two of them a sharp glare. 

“Yeah yeah, they have plenty of time to eat. Lunch is a good fifty minutes, anyways. And everyone does this all the time. No one cares!” 

The year 10’s, who were behind them, weren’t going to let this slide.

“Hey! They pushed in!” 

“Ignore it.” 

The shouts rose higher and higher, and the elders ahead heard. 

“They pushed in!” The girl cried, jabbing an accusatory finger at them. Her hair was blonde, a stark contrast to her roots, which were black.

“Hmm? Who pushed in, Nitta?” The girl beside her asked. Then, the blonde’s friend turned around. Those hazel eyes. The stray strands of her that had been styled to frame her face. The student council badge. 

It was Tsumiki. How couldn’t he notice this sooner?

“Oh. Megumi? Why are you pushing into the line?” 

“Eh? Who’s this girl? How’d you know her?” 

While Nitta asked:

“You know him?” 

Megumi sighed, before shoving his hands into his pocket. 

“This is my sister, Tsumiki.” 

He left out the ‘step,’ part. That would be awkward, and he was in no mood to discuss his lore in the lunch line with people he had only chosen to be around for the sake of a bet. 

Nobara gasped. “You never said you had a sister!” 

“You never asked,” He countered, rolling his eyes. 

Yuuji, meanwhile, who was crammed against the wall, grinned. “Oh, cool! Nice to meet you, Tsumiki’s older sister.”

He then remembered what Megumi had said to him- how Sukuna reminded Megumi of his older sister. She too had been forced to grow up too fast. She had that haunted look in her eyes. 

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you, too,” She replied, nodding with a smile. 

“Tch. Can’t believe the two of you are related, ‘cuz she’s so nice, and you’re not.” 

Nitta watched, listening to the exchange intently. “Are these your friends, Megumi?” 

He was going to say they weren’t his friends, they were just acquaintances, but that would give everything away. So instead, he raised his collar to his nose, burying his face after muttering a reluctant ‘yes.’

“That’s lovely. I’m glad you have friends now,” After a pause, she turned to Yuuji and Nobara. 

“Please take good care of him. It takes him long to warm up to people, but he has a good heart. And he’s never had friends before.” 

“Can you stop embarrassing me in front of them!?” 

“Aww, the poor whittle Megumi needs his big sissy to tell his friends to be nice to him. So adowable,” She cooed, her tone oozing with malice. 

“Shut it!” He hissed, elbowing her in her breast. Not intentionally, anyways.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” Itadori agreed, nodding firmly, before saluting at her. Yuuji thought that Tsumiki acted more like a maternal figure than an older sister, and it made it impossible to deny her request. 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Tsumiki murmured, rubbing the back of her neck, sheepishly, “But regardless, Megumi. You shouldn’t be pushing into the lunch line. Is that understood?” 

Yuuji snorted, giggling faintly. Megumi grunted. Yuuji raised his hand to cover his mouth, before muttering: “Sorry, sorry.”

Megumi merely rolled his eyes, before grumbling weakly: “I hate you.”

Nitta pursed her lips, before blurting out: “That was rude.” 

On his far right, a voice muttered an agreement. Probably Yuuji.

His older sister sighed deeply. “You don’t mean that. But I don’t want to catch you like this again.” She turned around, and so did Nitta.

The scent of sausages and mashed potatoes infiltrated his nostrils. Itadori and Kugisaki chatted, with Megumi occasionally joining in. It wasn’t as hard as he thought- just nodding and agreeing when needed. 

Megumi pressed his lunch card against the scanner. It flashed red. He clicked his tongue, and tried again. Red still. With a groan, he set the apple juice down. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay,” Yuuji called out from behind Nobara, his voice swallowed by the idle chatter and clatter of cutlery in the canteen. 

But Megumi was up next. Maybe she could pay- it had to count as working towards making up with him. They were going to be friends now, after all.

Was it too soon? 

Regardless, she reached for a carton of apple juice, tapping her card. 

“Catch,” And with that, she tossed the juice at his head, which he caught with ease. 

“What’s this for?” He scoffed, arching a brow at the brown-haired girl.

“Consider it a peace offering,” She said, shrugging, before sliding in beside Yuuji, “Cuz we’re gonna be friends now.”

The two of them stared each other down. Megumi even maintained eye contact while stabbing the straw into the hole, and sipping.

“...You’ll have to do more than that to compensate,” He groused, “But it’s a start.”

“Eh. I’ll take it,” The girl shrugged, picking up her spoon, “But you have to try this!” She exclaimed. 

Custard was poured over Nobara’s apple crumble. Megumi personally preferred savoury things over sweet. 

“I’m not…into things that taste particularly sweet,” Fushiguro muttered, wrinkling his nose. 

“You don’t get a choice. Now, open up!” Kugisaki demanded. Just as Megumi opened his mouth to tell her to get lost, she shoved the spoon right in. Flavour burst onto his tongue, the warm custard and the chunks of apple.

He held the spoon, swallowing, before shooting her a sharp glare. But he couldn’t deny it was nice. 

“See? Told you it’s nice!” The brown haired girl exclaimed victoriously. 

Fushiguro huffed: “You’re lucky I don’t feel like using this spoon to gouge out your eyes.”

“Is that meant to scare me, huh? The big bad Megumi’s gonna tear out my eyes! Oh Yuuji, I’m so scared, ” She cried dramatically, resting her head on his shoulder, resting the back of her palm against her forehead. 

She cracked an eye open to gauge his reaction, and Megumi grunted. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Guys! Come on now! I thought you two were getting along!” 

“Relax,” Kugisaki snorted, rolling her eyes, “I’m just messing.”

Later, once they had finished lunch, the trio were on the staircase. 

Megumi paused, hovering on the staircase, his hand on the railing, the metal cold beneath his touch. Itadori and Kugisaki paused too, shooting glances back at the raven haired boy.

Fushiguro began hesitantly, averting his gaze to the wall: “We’re not meant to go up here.”

“Nah, it’s cool. We come up here, like, all the time,” Kugisaki shrugged. 

His gaze darted between the two, before he let out a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Alright, then.”

Footsteps resounded through the room, heels clicking against the floors. Kugisaki clicked her tongue, and shoved her finger against Fushiguro’s mouth to silence him, making his eyes widen. And yet, he couldn’t protest against it.

The three of them held their breaths. Waiting. 

The footsteps passed.

“Nobara…” Yuuji began, wringing his hands, “Maybe- maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”  

“The hell do you mean?” 

“What if we get caught?”

Fushiguro shrugged. 

“It’s too late to back out now.” 

Kugisaki grinned, and lightly swatted Megumi’s arm. 

“Ha! See? Even Megumi’s not scared.” 

Itadori threw his head back with a dramatic groan.

Nobara flicked the lock with her fingers. It came clean off, landing on the floor with a clatter. 

“That was so loud!” Itadori hissed, making Kugisaki roll her eyes.

Both her and Megumi pushed open the doors.

Megumi yelped as something was crushed beneath his feet, causing him to stumble. Fortunately, Yuuji’s arm darted out, catching him in time. 

“Whoa, you gotta watch out, man.” 

Fushiguro removed his foot, inspecting what he had stepped on. It was a slender device, lime green, a stark contrast to his dull school shoes. 

“Is- is that…” 

“Yup. It’s a vape.” 

“People come here to vape and smoke all the time,” Kugisaki elaborated. Sure enough, as Megumi glanced down, there were discarded cigarettes and vapes scattered across the floor, “As long as you don’t snitch or look at them funny, they don’t care.” 

On the step leading up to the old pastoral office sat two people. One of them was a guy with purple hair, a black fur coat slipping from his shoulders. Beside him was a girl with black hair, stripes of turquoise in her hair. Under her lips were multiple piercings, gleaming in the light. 

The two of them were talking and giggling among themselves. The guy had a cigarette poised between his lips. The girl plucked the cigarette from his lips, and took a long drag from it. Fushiguro pursed his lips. He always felt awkward about pda.

“Yo,” The guy called out.

“Hi, Yuu!”

 Yuuji nodded in acknowledgement, and saluted with a grin to the both of them. Even Nobara nodded in their direction.

“Hey.”

After they walked on further on, Yuuji shrugged. 

“See? He’s chill like that.” 

Megumi hummed absently.

Fushiguro leaned against the railing, propping his elbows up against it. His gaze was fixed on the skyline stretched out before him. Yuuji and Nobara joined Megumi, both of them on each of his sides.

“Nice, huh?” 

“Far nicer than our playgrounds,” Megumi snorted in response. 

“For real,” Kugisaki muttered, bumping her elbow with his. A brief grin skittered across his lips, and the girl laughed at the sight, with Yuuji joining in. 

After a pause, Nobara sighed. 

“Guess you’re not as bad as I thought. You’re actually pretty smart, and you’re not a total coward,” lightly bumping her shoulder against his.

Megumi exhaled through his nose in amusement.

“I’m flattered. I suppose you’re more tolerable when you’re not shouting in my ear all the time.”

Yuuji, upon noticing them getting along, grinned, and sighed wistfully. 

“I love it when you guys get along.” 

“You sound like a tired mum of three whose kids are constantly at each other’s throats,” Megumi muttered dryly. 

Nobara snorted at this comment.

“Nuh uh! I don’t!” Yuuji protested. 

“Yuh uh!” 

“Nuh uh!” 

“Yuh uh!” 

Their voices faded, replaced by Megumi’s thoughts. 

It was…surprisingly nice. The wind tugged at their hair and clothes. The cold seeped through his clothes, making goosebumps erupt on his arms. Even with Yuuji and Nobara bickering beside him, he couldn’t bring himself to complain. 

Was this what having friends was like?