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Megumi isn’t a jealous person.
Really, he isn’t. For the most part, in his sixteen years on this planet, he’s never been particularly possessive. He’s lived his life accepting how things are, taking whatever comes at him without much complaint. When he was a kid, he never really liked to share, but that was more out of annoyance with other people than possessiveness over his things. It isn’t like he had much to give, anyway.
Still, though, he’s never truly looked at someone and felt jealous of who they are or what they have. He accepts his circumstances as they are, and never saw any point in wasting his time with useless envy. It would never get him anywhere; jealousy is a stupid, petty thing. Megumi never thought of himself as petty. Granted, he did beat up bullies in middle school, but that was behavior born out of his own convictions, not simple pettiness. And anyway, he’s grown and matured since then. Now, he mostly likes to keep to himself, not as concerned with how others live their lives. Recently, he has been changing, learning that it’s okay to want more, that he doesn't have to accept everything that's thrown at him, but— Still. He’s not a jealous person.
“Wow, it looks like Itadori is toeing the doorway of manhood,” Kugisaki muses, a tilt of surprise in her voice. Megumi’s eyes burn holes into the backs of Yuuji and Ozawa, watching as they walk side by side. “I can’t believe he’s gonna get into a relationship before me. I’m kinda pissed.” She crosses her arms, half-frowning.
Well, he wasn’t ever a jealous person before.
Megumi just grunts in response and pulls his coat tighter around himself, bones cold from a chill that has nothing to do with the snow twirling down around them. Something icy sharp freezes in his blood as he watches them, listens to the quiet voice of Ozawa as she talks about ‘the person she loves’.
Kugisaki continues, “They’re cute together, though. Hopefully, Itadori doesn’t mess it up by being a dumbass.”
Megumi sets his jaw, teeth grinding together. It’s stupid, thoroughly humiliating, how worked up this is getting him. They’re just talking. He doesn’t even think Yuuji realizes what Ozawa is trying to get at, chirping carelessly about how he wants to build a snowman in response to her near-confession.
Manhood, he internally scoffs. Yuuji is still nothing but a kid.
And doesn’t he deserve that, after everything he went through, to be a kid for a little longer?
Sure, he’s matured since Megumi first met him. He can easily be serious when he needs to now, no longer acting completely on childish whims—But, still, he hasn’t lost the boyish charm about him, hasn’t lost his dumb jokes or ridiculous movie impersonations. Megumi hopes he’ll always keep that part of himself, the parts that make Yuuji, Yuuji.
Physically, too, he’s grown into his face a bit in the past year, losing some of the roundness in his cheeks, features littered with scars— But, to Megumi, he’s still that same boy. He’s still Yuuji. And Megumi thinks he still has a while before he truly becomes a ‘man’. He’s still oblivious as ever, and Megumi’s not sure that Yuuji has even given romance a second thought since they met. Who would? Where would he have found the time, between adjusting to sorcery and fighting for his life?
Yet, as Megumi watches him with Ozawa, his heart refuses to listen to reason, clenching painfully in his chest, scraped by the ugly clutches of jealousy.
It’s so stupid.
He doesn’t even know why. It’s not like Yuuji is going to abandon him or run off and disappear with Ozawa over one conversation. Not after everything they’ve been through—Not after Yuuji fought so hard to bring Megumi back. He isn’t going to just leave.
Really, he should, though. Yuuji deserves it: a quiet life, settling down with a nice girl who loves him, somewhere far away from Tokyo. He should be able to leave sorcery behind, forget the terrible world that Megumi dragged him into. Maybe he should hate Megumi, and maybe Megumi should tell him to go, help him leave and start over somewhere better. Somewhere with Ozawa, maybe.
But Megumi isn’t that selfless.
“She’s his type and everything. I don’t know how she fell for him, but he’d better realize how lucky he is. Look, I think she’s asking him on a date.” Kugisaki whispers all her thoughts to Megumi, zero filter, and he has to really try not to disappear, trying not to sink away into his shadow and hide until this is all over. He doesn’t care if Ozawa is Yuuji’s type, and he doesn’t need Kugisaki shoving that fact down his throat.
He’s beginning to wish he’d stayed at home.
It’s Yuuji’s voice, sunny and bright as ever, that breaks him out of his self-wallowing. “Yo, Megumi, Kugisaki!” He calls over to them, waving his arm above his head with all the grace of an excited toddler. “Do you guys wanna come see a movie with me and Ozawa?”
“Is he serious? She was clearly asking him on a date!” Kugisaki whisper-shouts, exasperated. She takes a deep breath, like she's collecting herself, refraining from calling Yuuji an idiot and berating him right there in front of Ozawa.
Honestly, Megumi feels kind of bad for her. He has a little pity for anyone who falls victim to Yuuji’s cluelessness, but Ozawa looks near horrified, running a nervous hand through her hair as Yuuji practically parades around the fact that she asked him on a date— Except everyone but Yuuji knows it’s meant to be a date. Ozawa shifts awkwardly, eyes flicking between Megumi and Kugisaki, pleading. She’s clearly asking them to say no.
“Sure,” Megumi calls back, because, well—
He doesn’t have a good reason. Kugisaki kicks him in the shin for it, paired with an incredulous glare. Megumi, not having any actual defense, just shrugs and walks off toward Yuuji. Kugisaki stands there sputtering for a split second before rushing after him.
“What are you doing?” She whispers into his ear, not subtle at all. At least Yuuji has turned back toward Ozawa now, Kugisaki’s lecture going unnoticed. “Poor Ozawa was literally begging us to say no!”
“He’s a dumbass. Shouldn’t we tag along to make sure he doesn’t mess this up?” Megumi says. It was the first excuse he could think of on the spot. It’s a weak and stupid one, completely out of character for him, but— It might be enough for Kugisaki, who loves gossip and snooping.
She blinks at him a few times, processing, before her eyes brighten and she gives a sly grin.
“Damn, Fushiguro! That’s smart.”
It’s really not.
Megumi nods noncommittally, stepping up to Yuuji and Ozawa with his hands in his pockets. Yuuji turns over, hearing him approach, and grins again. “You guys ready to go? We picked that new horror movie. It’s about bugs, or something.”
Kugisaki makes a face. “Ew. You picked that of all movies?”
“Wh– The reviews say it’s good!” Yuuji defends, pouting.
Megumi bites the inside of his cheek. He always gets a strange sense of aggression when he sees Yuuji like this, making those stupidly cute faces, jutting out his bottom lip like a kicked puppy. Snowflakes sparkle in his round eyes, honey-warm, and Megumi has to look away. He wants to squeeze him, and that’s not appropriate.
“Can we just go?” Megumi interrupts their bickering, huffing out a breath. It turns to fog before misting away in the wind. “It’s cold out here.”
“Right, let’s go!” Yuuji cheers, slinging an arm over Megumi’s shoulders. “You’re always cold, though, Megu. Do you want my scarf?” He asks, hands already raised to tug it off. And that’s—
It’s not good for his heart, that’s for sure. A familiar warmth blooms in his chest at the fondness of it, Yuuji remembering little things about him like that, offering up his own scarf just so Megumi could be warm. It makes him idiotically hopeful, and he mentally slaps himself for it. Nothing is ever going to happen between him and Yuuji. Reality check: Ozawa is literally right there. Even if Yuuji doesn’t realize she likes him right now, he will in the future, once they spend more time together. Yuuji will probably decide that Ozawa is just his type and ask her out for a real date, one that doesn’t involve his friends third-wheeling. In fact, Megumi’s almost certain that’s what’s going to happen. Ozawa is a perfectly nice girl, and Yuuji is a perfectly nice boy. (He’s a lot more than just nice, but Megumi isn’t going to get into that right now). Kugisaki was right; they’re perfect for each other.
“Idiot,” Megumi chides, pushing Yuuji’s hands down. “Then you’ll be cold.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine, too. Let’s just hurry up.”
Yuuji concedes after that, retreating to talk with Ozawa some more. Megumi doesn’t know about what, and he doesn’t want to, purposefully blocking their voices out. He’s pretty sure he heard Ozawa call Yuuji’s hair cute at some point, and that’s too much for him. He would literally rather do anything else than have to listen to more of that.
He’s starting to regret his decision.
Like, seriously, what in the hell is wrong with him? Why did he agree to crash Yuuji’s date? Is he really that immature? And why would Kugisaki just let him, going along with it—
Okay, well, this is actually pretty in character for her. He’s fully to blame here.
So, Megumi broods, distracting himself by staring down at the imprints of his boots in the snow, leaving a trail behind him as he crunches against the icy flakes.
He doesn’t say much for the walk there, nor does he when they’re getting snacks, besides a quick ‘I’m not hungry’ when Yuuji asks what he wants. He’s silent while they walk toward their seats, and he’s silent when Kugisaki nudges him in the ribs with her elbow, pointing out how close Yuuji and Ozawa are walking to each other. She whispers to him as they settle into the old, cracked leather cushions of the theatre’s seats, quietly squealing about how well Yuuji and Ozawa pair together, what a great couple they’d be, and Megumi—
Megumi is really going to lose it soon. Honestly, what was he thinking, tagging along on his best friend’s date?
Megumi almost scoffs at the word. ‘Best friend’ doesn’t seem deep enough for what Yuuji is to him, but he’d really rather shove his head into dirt than call him something corny like ‘the love of my life’. He doesn’t deserve to, anyway, because that’s what Yuuji is to Ozawa. Yuuji is not his.
But Megumi—Megumi is his. He’d said it, after all. He said he'd live for Yuuji, and he isn’t going to go back on that now.
Simply calling Yuuji his ‘best friend’ would never be enough. Megumi bared his soul to him, let him see the deepest, ugliest parts, the hurt, the despair, his desire to end it all, and Yuuji’s steady hand pulled him from the crashing waves of it all. He saw all the terrible, horrible parts that make up Megumi, and he stayed. He didn’t look at Megumi and think he wasn’t worth the trouble. He looked at Megumi and saw him for more than just his technique; he saw him in all his messy, broken glory, and still decided that he wanted Megumi around. They’ve nearly died together, fought til the very brink of death, lived through the worst breakdowns, the worst memories anyone could conjure, and they’re still here. Megumi may never be whole again, with the loss and despair that left behind a hollow hole in his heart, agony against his chest like a broken rib—But he still has Yuuji, and Yuuji wants him here, too. That’s enough for him. It’s more than enough, so much more than he could ever ask for. So, he shouldn’t ask for more; he shouldn’t be so selfish.
Yuuji just makes it so hard not to want. Yuuji, with his dorky, boyish charm that has Megumi swooning, tripping over his feet before he even realizes what’s happening to him. His eyes that shine golden, so bright and full of life and love, even despite the hell they’ve seen. His earnestness, the soft tone he speaks to Megumi at night when he knows he’s more vulnerable, always more exposed at night; the darkness brings him back to the horrors of that cursed bath that submerged his very soul, the fear of nightmares that will surely come— It all puts him on edge. And Yuuji, bright, lively, loud Yuuji, will stay up with Megumi and whisper his words gently, a soothing balm over Megumi’s aching heart.
Yuuji, who will surely fall in love with and marry Ozawa. Yuuji, who is not his.
Still, though, his stupid, betraying heart beats for Yuuji, and he can’t help the angry stir of jealousy that crawls up his neck, burning his skin in its path, creating a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. Of course, if anyone could bring out this side of him, it would be Yuuji.
Megumi keeps his eyes set firmly forward at the screen, watching but not actually watching. Whatever, though. It beats looking at Yuuji, who, for the most part, is focusing on the movie, but every once in a while, he whispers something to Ozawa, and she giggles. Suddenly, they feel miles away from Megumi, connected under the dark blanket of intimacy that comes with movie theatres.
Again: what in the world was he thinking? He should’ve just gone home. Now, he’s sitting here in this fucking theatre, and he’s never wanted Yuuji’s attention so badly before in his life. If he were even just a hair’s breadth more sensible right now, he’d feel absolutely mortified by that thought. The thought that he needs Yuuji to look at him, to speak to him right now, whisper some dumb commentary or joke about the movie, anything, or he might have a breakdown right in the middle of the theatre. It’s the most pathetic he’s ever felt, but it isn't very surprising; his emotions have always gone a bit haywire around Yuuji, leading to questionable, irrational decisions.
He doesn’t think better of it when he gasps and jumps like he’s been shot at the next jumpscare—some sort of beetle flying at the screen—despite it being completely obvious what was coming. Megumi has never been one to get scared during horror films. Truly, he finds them quite boring and predictable, which is why he's never particularly shocked at scenes like this—Sudden loud noises or random things jumping at the screen. Hence, his terrible acting. He would surely regret this later, would probably lie awake in bed thinking back on how embarrassing his actions were, but for now—
For now, his terrible acting is enough to get Yuuji to look over, placing a concerned hand over Megumi’s on the armrest between them, asking if he was okay. Megumi ignores the questioning brow Kugisaki sends him, pointedly looking everywhere but at her. They’ve watched enough horror movies together for her to know that the stupid bug had definitely not scared him, and he isn’t going to confront that fact right now.
“You okay, Megu?” Yuuji whispers, the same soft tone that’s usually reserved for quiet nights. Megumi’s heart swells at the gentleness of it.
“Yeah,” He mumbles back. “I’m just… scared of bugs.” He lies, lamely.
Never in his life has Megumi looked at a bug and been afraid of it. Sure, he’s not their biggest fan or anything, but— they’re just bugs. Usually, he’ll scoop them up into a container and toss them outside. He’d done it a lot as a kid, since Tsumiki was perpetually terrified of spiders and their old apartment seemed to be overrun by them.
Megumi, though, never really cared. Growing up around terrifying curses his whole life, taming unnatural beings such as shikigami since he was a kid—Taking all of that into account, a tiny bug was nothing.
It’s such a ridiculous lie that even Yuuji, sweet, trusting Yuuji, seems a bit shocked by it.
“Huh, really?” He asks and quirks his head to the side, eyes flicking across Megumi’s face. Megumi almost feels bad.
Not bad enough to admit that he’s a complete liar, though.
He nods, giving a small, affirmative hum. “Yeah, uh—” He trails off, unsure how to continue. Yuuji seems to take the hesitation as Megumi being too embarrassed to talk about his supposed fear.
“Aw,” Yuuji gives a light, sympathetic squeeze to his hand, “That’s okay, Megumi. Everyone is scared of something! Personally, I’ve always thought clowns were super creepy…” Yuuji begins a long, hushed rant about his fear of clowns, trying to relate and soothe Megumi from his nonexistent embarrassment over his nonexistent fear of insects.
He should feel bad for Ozawa; Yuuji spends the rest of the movie wholly attentive to Megumi— and he does feel a little sympathy, but—
But, mostly, Megumi feels like he’s won somehow. Won the nonexistent battle for Yuuji’s affections.
It really was pathetic. Not only that, it was also horrifyingly embarrassing and just plain rude to poor Ozawa.
Megumi completely avoided Yuuji the next day, hiding behind walls or disappearing into his shadow whenever he was near. It lasted until Megumi was sure he wouldn’t bring it up, relaxing when Yuuji found him to ramble on about some new manga he’d picked up, seeming to have forgotten the whole ordeal completely.
It’s been two weeks since that snowy day in Sendai, and Megumi finally feels like he can breathe. By now, even he has almost forgotten about it all, the memory shoved into the back of his mind like a strange fever dream.
It helps that Yuuji hasn’t mentioned Ozawa once since then, which Megumi supposes makes sense; they really weren’t ever close friends, and Yuuji has been quite busy with missions. Still, though, Ozawa was a nice girl, and she didn’t deserve to be subjected to Megumi’s pettiness. He should apologize if he ever sees her again.
For now, though, he's focused on Yuuji. The way he glows golden under the yellowy cafe lights faded with the setting sun, beaming outside the large window they're sat beside. The dusty pink of his hair fades coral under it all, bangs falling slightly into his eyes. He’s due for a trim soon, Megumi notes.
Megumi’s cheek rests against his fist as Yuuji excitedly details his most recent mission, all smiles and broad gestures, the dimple on his right cheek ever present. Megumi hums and nods along occasionally, just to let Yuuji know he’s still listening. Yuuji has just returned from a mission out of town, and it feels like it’s been forever since Megumi last saw him. In reality, he was only gone for three days, but Megumi hasn’t been apart from him for that long since he first woke up after… Sukuna. So, he felt like he was going slightly crazy, checking Yuuji’s location every ten minutes and having to refrain from bombarding him with texts like a paranoid mother. Sure, he may be a little codependent, but after all he’s gone through, he thinks that’s alright. And anyway, Yuuji seems to be in the same boat as him, calling Megumi up and taking him out to a cafe the second his feet touched Tokyo’s soil.
Megumi soaks in Yuuji’s presence, every grin and glint in his eyes, making up for all he’s missed. Because that’s what it was, really; Megumi’s missed Yuuji these past few days. It’s stupidly dramatic, really. They’ve barely been apart, and Yuuji is perfectly capable of handling a solo mission, but Megumi’s emotions don’t always agree with simple logic. Either way, Yuuji was here now, and all was right.
Once Yuuji’s finished debriefing his mission, he asks Megumi to talk about his own. He’d been assigned a last-minute mission the morning before Yuuji left, so they hadn’t had much of a chance to talk. Megumi just shrugs and says it wasn’t much, only a grade three.
He feels fine, his body nearly back to top functionality, but he’s still being given these minuscule jobs that anyone could handle. He got sent to exorcise a grade four last week— Even Ijichi could take care of that. It’s frustrating to be treated like he’s weak, and he says as such. Yuuji gets sheepish at that, looking down at the table, but Megumi doesn’t have the chance to ask why— A waitress comes by, setting their drink orders down on the table. Yuuji’s got some sort of sugary concoction, a tower of whipped cream on top, and it hurts Megumi’s stomach just looking at it.
Yuuji’s countenance is still unusually shy as he thanks their waitress and takes a sip from his mug. Suddenly, he’s avoiding eye contact and keeping uncharacteristically silent. He's acting like he has something to hide.
God, he really can’t lie to save his life.
“Alright, spit it out. What’s wrong with you?” Megumi questions gruffly, nearly rolling his eyes at the way Yuuji jumps in surprise.
“Well,” Yuuji mumbles, stirring his drink mindlessly. There’s a faint line of whipped cream over his top lip, and it’s so annoyingly adorable that Megumi wants to punch and kiss him at the same time. Instead, he plucks a napkin from the table and leans across it, wiping the offense away. He ignores the way Yuuji’s cheeks color a deeper pink than they already were as he settles back into his seat, crumpling up the napkin and setting it aside. Surely, he’s just embarrassed to have been caught trying to hide something.
“Well, what?” Megumi prods. Yuuji lets out a little sigh and finally looks up from his drink, eyes meeting Megumi’s.
“Well, maybe I told them to take it easy on you until you’re fully recovered…” He admits, his voice a quiet murmur. The tone would usually be calming for Megumi, but right now, all he feels is incredible annoyance. Yuuji, and his incessant need to save and protect everyone. He already saved Megumi— He doesn’t need Yuuji to keep doing stuff like this. He’s already done enough.
“Yuuji,” Megumi sighs in irritation, grip tightening around the handle of his mug. He tries to let the warmth seeping from it soothe him. “I can handle myself. I don’t need you meddling like that.”
Yuuji frowns, “I know that, but—”
“Is that why you’ve been so busy? They’ve been assigning you all the dangerous missions because you told them I’m too weak to fight?”
Yuuji’s face twists into something offended, brows drawing firmly down. “I didn’t tell them you were weak. I’d never say that. You know I wouldn’t, Megumi, because it isn’t true.” He insists, snappy conviction in his cadence.
Megumi does know, of course, he knows— This is Yuuji they’re talking about— but he’s getting increasingly angry the longer this conversation goes on, and he’s caring less and less about filtering his words before they leave his mouth. Stupid, self-sacrificial Yuuji, putting himself in endless danger just for Megumi to be safe. He knows Yuuji isn’t doing this out of any ill will, Megumi doesn’t think he has a truly malicious bone in his body, but it’s still so rage-inducing. He doesn’t need Yuuji’s misdirected protection. He should save it for someone who actually needs—wants—it.
“What about you, huh? What happens if—”
Megumi blinks, and suddenly his mug is clattering out of his hands, black coffee spilling against the hardwood floor. It didn’t shatter, at least, but it clanks loudly when it falls, snapping the quiet hum and lull of voices in the cafe. He blinks again, flicking his eyes away from the floor and back up at the table, where Yuuji’s hand is hanging in the air like he’d just backhanded someone. Which, yeah, Megumi realizes— He’d just slapped the cup out of his hands.
He stares, incredulous, at Yuuji, whose expression is just as shocked as Megumi’s, for some reason. Like he’s not the one who did it.
“Yuuji, what the fuc—”
“I’m sorry!” Yuuji snaps his arm down to his side, jumping back. “I just– A bug flew into your drink, and I remembered that you’re scared of them, and I acted without thinking—” Yuuji begins his rush of rambled apologies, while Megumi sits still in his seat, blinking and dumfounded.
He realizes, belatedly, that Yuuji had evidently not forgotten about his embarrassing charade at the movie theatre after all. Yuuji, in all his ridiculous obliviousness, has now got it in his head that Megumi has a perpetual fear of bugs. So much so that he literally threw Megumi’s drink onto the floor in the middle of a busy cafe.
This might become a problem.
So, they talk it out.
Not the bug thing, the other issue. He got Yuuji to agree to stop being so overly protective, and Megumi promised to be extra careful. Megumi understands, after everything, that Yuuji can’t help but worry over him, but— That doesn’t mean he has to like it. So, this is their compromise. After a long and partially torturous discussion, Yuuji went along with him to the higher-ups, requesting that Megumi be put back onto regular missions. Yuuji had still looked slightly weary about it, but Megumi was grateful he was at least trying to reign it in.
That was what led to them here, assigned on a mission together; a special-grade curse tormenting a small village filled with mostly elderly civilians. There wasn’t much in the report besides the grade of the curse and the death toll so far—this was an investigation as much as it was a mission to exorcise. They know nothing about the curse, not what type it is or what abilities it has, so they have to be extra cautious and prepared for anything.
“They could’ve done at least a little more investigating before sending us out here blind…” Yuuji grumbles from beside him. Megumi hums in agreement, stepping off the road, stopping at the edge of the forest where the curse is suspected to be residing. He tilts his head up past the trees, watching as Ijichi’s veil overtakes the soft blue of the afternoon sky, clouds disappearing behind the inky black. Once it’s completed, he taps Yuuji on the shoulder and begins the trek into the forest.
Yuuji is too focused to talk Megumi’s ear off for once, the only sound between them being the crack of fallen sticks and leaves crunching beneath their shoes. They’re still in winter, which means the trees are mostly barren from autumn, doing nothing to block the cold breeze that bites through Megumi’s uniform. He can’t suppress a shiver, rubbing his hands together for some semblance of warmth.
Wordlessly, Yuuji digs into his pocket and pulls out a pair of gloves, then presents them in front of Megumi’s face. Megumi pauses in his steps to blink at them. He recognizes them; they’re his gloves, the gloves he’d chosen to leave back at home, deep blue threads that are worn but still functional.
“I knew you’d get cold,” Yuuji says, sounding smug.
Megumi purses his lips, pushes Yuuji’s hand away, and resumes walking. “I don’t like having stuff on my hands when I need to use my technique. Feels weird.”
Yuuji huffs, shoving the gloves back into his pocket and rushing to catch up. “At least you’ll be able to feel something. What’ll you do if your fingers freeze, huh?—”
Yuuji's chastising ceases almost as quickly as it began, and they both freeze as the ground begins to shake beneath them. Megumi squints, and in the distance, he spots it; trees are toppling over as something huge barrels through them, crashing down into the dirt.
“I think that’s the curse,” Yuuji supplies.
“Yeah, no shit.”
“You don’t need to be rude, Megu—”
Megumi ignores him, clasping his hands together louder than necessary to summon Nue. He sends the shikigami to fly above the trees, earning a better view of the curse coming their way. It’s moving fast, the shaking of the ground at near earthquake levels when it was hardly noticeable just a few moments ago.
“Just how big is this thing? And how is it moving so quickly at that size?” Megumi glowers through gritted teeth, summoning his Divine Dog to run ahead as well.
“Hey, at least a bigger target is easier to hit,” Yuuji shrugs.
Yeah, and typically harder to kill, Megumi internally scoffs, but doesn’t bother to waste time starting an argument.
When the curse is nearly upon them, they gather themselves into a defensive stance, deciding it’s better to be on defense rather than charging in at an unknown special grade. Nue is flying back toward them, right above the curse, and the howl of his Divine Dog as it begins an attack helps Megumi gauge just how far it is. He takes a deep breath just before it breaches the trees in front of him, willing calm through his blood. Then, the trees begin to snap, and—
And Megumi is sent careening toward the ground by a harsh shove, landing hard against jagged sticks, his body hidden behind a large tree trunk. Megumi curses as something sharp cuts his elbow when he lands, grunting in pain. What the fuck?
He scrambles up and away from the large tree, back into the small clearing he’d been waiting in seconds ago. That’s where he sees the curse—which truly is huge, nearly towering over the forest entirely—wailing as it’s brutally attacked in tandem by his Divine Dog and Yuuji. He barks an order at Nue to join in, just for good measure.
Megumi begins a thought, something along the lines of 'why the fuck did Yuuji push me?', but before he can finish it, he glances back at the curse and really looks. Once he realizes what the curse actually is, it isn’t all that shocking why Yuuji did what he did.
It makes sense because the curse is a giant fucking spider, and Yuuji has this belief that Megumi is deathly afraid of every bug on the planet. He probably thinks the sight alone would send him into a full-blown panic attack. Which, it wouldn’t, by the way, because in reality, Megumi couldn’t care less about fucking bugs.
He never thought that the stupid lie he told would end up affecting him during a mission—Yet, here he was anyway, because when has anything ever gone the way Megumi thought it would?
Deciding he can brood more about that later, he shouts at Yuuji to step back while he uses Nue’s electricity to shock the curse frozen. It’s a lot easier for them to attack when the spider isn’t swinging its arms around and trying to trap them with webs. Megumi pulls one of his sharper blades from his shadows and lunges forward to slice away at its legs before it can regain movement. It isn’t long before Yuuji lands another brutal punch as a finishing blow, and the curse is exorcised, purple blood splattering them and the trees around. Megumi nearly gags as a glob of it lands a little too close to his mouth, and he quickly uses his sleeve to wipe it away.
With the threat gone, Yuuji is rushing toward Megumi and fretting over him like a mother hen. Megumi rolls his eyes and dismisses his shikigami, ignoring him. He turns on his heel, trudging back toward the road. Yuuji, though, isn’t deterred, stepping after him and draping an arm across his shoulders.
“Megumi, you okay? I’m sorry for pushing you, but it was all I could think to do when I saw that the curse was a spider! I know you can handle yourself, but I wasn’t sure how you’d handle being directly confronted with your biggest fear like that. I’d definitely freak out if it were a huge clown or something…”
Megumi tunes him out soon after that, focusing instead on the nice, warm shower he’s going to take once they get back home.
He really does feel bad that Yuuji is so worried over a completely fabricated fear, but Megumi is afraid it may be too late to come clean now. He might be stuck having to pretend for the rest of his life, unless he ever decides to suck it up and face the embarrassment of telling the truth. Yuuji loves to ask why; it may be one of his favorite words, and he would surely question why Megumi had lied about something like that. Then, he would have to admit to Yuuji’s face that he was so jealous and desperate for his attention in that moment that it was all he could think to do, and— He thinks he might genuinely die if he ever has to say any of that out loud.
A chill runs through him despite Yuuji’s furnace-like warmth pressed heavily against his side.
“You okay?” Yuuji asks.
“I think I’ll take my gloves now.”
Megumi sits upright on his bed, knees curled to his chest. He rests his chin atop them, wrapping his arms around his legs as he stares at the corner of his room.
Classes were longer than usual today, their teacher going on and on about some math equations that Megumi already knew, but were somehow retaught so complicated that his brain felt completely fried after. He was in a near dissociated state as he mindlessly ate dinner and shuffled to the baths for a too-hot shower. He’d dragged himself to his dorm, skin tinted pink from warm water, dressed in his comfiest sleep clothes. He climbed into bed, ready to pass out for the next nine hours, but then, as he reached over to click off his lamp, he saw it.
‘It’ being the roach skittering around in the corner of his bedroom.
He doesn’t even know where it came from. Well, that’s not completely true; he knows it probably got into his room when he accidentally left his window open earlier, there’s a small hole in the screen, but still— It’s winter. He usually only ever sees them around here in the summertime.
Frankly, he's way too tired to deal with it, but he also doesn’t want to wake up to roach eggs scattered across his room. He also doesn’t like to kill them, because then he’d have to deal with the disgusting aftermath on the bottom of whatever shoe he chose to use. Paper towels are never a viable option for him, either; the few times he tried to kill a bug with one, it always ended up on his hand somehow. He also really doesn’t feel like bringing it all the way outside. He’d pass out in the hallway before making it halfway. There’s really no guarantee it’ll crawl back out of the small hole in his window screen, and he doesn’t even want to attempt to force it. He’s at a loss here.
Until he remembers one more option, one that only requires walking a few steps to the boy in the dorm next door. Yuuji definitely isn't asleep yet, and he already thinks Megumi’s terrified of insects, so he has a perfectly reasonable excuse. So far, that dumb lie has brought him nothing but trouble and embarrassment; now, he has the chance to get something useful out of it.
With his mind made up, Megumi pushes out of bed and makes his way to Yuuji’s dorm.
He knocks lightly, a soft rhythm he always uses, one Yuuji will surely recognize. There’s some muffled shuffling— probably Yuuji clambering out of bed—, before the door swings open, revealing a slightly groggy but awake Yuuji. He rubs at his eyes, his loose pyjama t-shirt revealing the ridges of his collar bones. A flush runs through Megumi, and he nearly scowls at it. He averts his eyes instead, up to Yuuji’s brown eyes that are dulled by exhaustion, yet still beautiful nonetheless, reflecting the dim hallway lights.
“Megu? What’s up?” He asks, words strung together in a near incoherent mumble. Megumi understands perfectly anyway.
“Were you asleep?”
Yuuji grins lazily, shaking his head. “Nah, just finishing up the last volume of this manga I’m reading. That math in class took most of my energy, though, so I'm probably gonna go to bed soon.” He chuckles lightly, sounding more awake the longer he speaks. “Anyway, what do you need? Or did you just want my company?” He teases, poking a finger at Megumi’s ribs. Megumi flinches away and smacks at his hand, scoffing.
“No. I need your help.”
Yuuji straightens at that, quirking a brow. “My help? With what?”
Megumi shifts on his feet. Was this a bad idea?
“Something,” He answers, less confident than before.
“Alright,” Yuuji agrees easily, smiling softly. “Lead the way, then,” He gestures into the hallway, already stepping out of his dorm. Megumi nods and walks the few feet back to his room, Yuuji trailing behind. They step inside, and Megumi stands awkwardly in the middle of the room briefly before making a gesture with his hand that's vaguely pointing, directing Yuuji’s attention to the corner of his room. Yuuji turns his head, squinting down at the floor.
“Wha- Oh!” He spots the insect, trying and failing to climb the baseboard of his wall. “I saw a few of them outside yesterday, too. You want me to kill it?” Yuuji cocks his head to the side, glancing at Megumi with a slight smile.
Megumi shrugs. “Can’t you, like, take it outside or something?”
“Ah, right.” Yuuji nods, stepping toward Megumi’s kitchenette in search of a container to trap it with.
Megumi’s starting to feel a little bad now. Yuuji is clearly just as tired as he is; they both had to suffer through the same class today. But, hey, Megumi walked all the way back to the field for Yuuji earlier when he forgot his jacket, so. Maybe he can just call this even.
Yuuji sifts through the cabinet, pulling out a few items and walking toward the bug with a cup and a lid. He traps it easily, a movement so fast that Megumi would’ve missed it if he blinked. Yuuji stands from where he was crouched on the floor and turns to him with a stupid grin.
“Got it! I’ll just throw it outside or something,” He pauses thoughtfully, eyes roving over Megumi. “Y’know, Megumi, I think you’re a lot kinder than you give yourself credit for. Even though you’re afraid of bugs, you’d rather let one free than kill it.” He says earnestly, smiling softly.
Megumi’s heart stutters, and he nearly blushes, before he realizes Yuuji’s praises don’t mean anything because he’s not actually fucking scared of the stupid fucking roach—
He was just feeling too lazy to deal with it himself. Now, he feels like, well—Shit. Like the worst friend in the world.
Yuuji doesn’t seem surprised by Megumi’s non-answer, turning to leave the room. Megumi doesn’t often reply to praise like that, especially when it comes from Yuuji— Well, not with words, anyway, besides a mumbled ‘shut up’ through an embarrassed flush.
“Uh—” Megumi chokes out, causing Yuuji to pause in the doorway. He looks over his shoulder, and the light filtering in from the hallway shines behind him like a tiny halo. Yuuji raises a brow, silently questioning.
Megumi clears his throat, trying to collect himself. “I’ll come with you,” He says matter-factly, nudging Yuuji out into the hallway and shutting his door behind them.
Yuuji beams, eyes gleaming atop a toothy grin. “Well, I’ll never say no to your company, Megu.”
Megumi huffs and ignores the way his heart flutters against his ribs. He means it platonically, obviously.
So, Megumi ends up making the walk outside to get rid of the bug, anyway— Defeating the whole point of his ‘plan.’ At least he got to do it with Yuuji, a selfish part of him supposes, because Yuuji truly isn't needed for this—Like, at all. Megumi is completely wasting his time. Still, though, Yuuji hums happily as they make their way outside, and he chuckles softly as the bug skitters away and disappears into the shadowy bushes. He pushes himself up, passing the cup over to Megumi and dusting off his hands.
“Well, it shouldn’t bother you anymore.”
“...Right.”
Megumi has always thought that Yuuji looked beautiful under the stars— especially now, with soft kindness coloring his expression as he gazes at Megumi. Megumi watches the stars through his eyes, chocolate brown in the night and twinkling. He watches the way his little smile lightly reveals that dimple on his right cheek, and he can just barely see Yuuji’s freckles under the moonlight, faded by winter. Megumi thinks he prefers the constellations that span across his nose and cheekbones over any he could ever find in the sky. Yuuji’s hair tousles in the wind, soft wisps of pink tufts, and Megumi clenches his fist and turns away before he can do something stupid like lovingly run his fingers through it.
“Let’s go back inside. It’s cold,” He mumbles.
Yuuji tuts, chiding Megumi for not wearing a jacket, and follows him down the hallway. They walk back to the dorms in comfortable silence, Yuuji likely too tired to have a fully fledged conversation, and Megumi too in his head to really notice.
He gets like this sometimes, when he’s around Yuuji too much. Especially at night, when he feels more vulnerable and every interaction seems charged with intimacy. It leaves him feeling embarrassingly soft, and mushy, and wanting. Usually, he’s pretty good at dealing with it; he makes up some flimsy excuse to get away from Yuuji before he makes a poor decision that could cause the end of their friendship. Usually. Tonight, Megumi is feeling his feelings a lot more intensely than he’s used to, and he’s starting to feel a little selfish.
Which is why he lingers, paused outside of his door instead of going in and saying goodnight, looking at Yuuji but not actually looking, avoiding eye contact as he asks, “Do you want to come in?”
It isn’t a weird question from Megumi, not really. He and Yuuji have shared a bed many times, especially during those first few weeks after Megumi woke up, finally in his own body again. He and Yuuji alike had been plagued with nightmares every night, everything still so fresh in their minds, and it was just—easier. To be together. The nightmares lessened whenever they were together, and they were always there to wake the other in case.
Originally, it had been an accident. They had stayed up late in Yuuji’s dorm, watching movies and avoiding sleep without actually talking about the reason why, though they both knew without having to say a word. They share a wall, after all, and it’s rather thin. Gasps and strangled screams after jolting awake from dreams riddled with bloodshed filter through easily, like a ghost through a wall. The reason they didn’t talk about it wasn’t clear, whether it was too much shame or simply too hard to speak about what they witnessed aloud. Does it count as a nightmare if it really happened?
Anyway, it was long past the AM hours of the night, and Megumi couldn’t fight off the exhaustion any longer. He fell asleep. And, apparently, Yuuji had, too; they both woke up around the same time the next morning, sun streaming through half-drawn curtains, and realized that for the first time in days, they made it through the night without a single bad dream.
So, it wasn’t exactly strange, Megumi asking for his company like this. They’ve been sleeping in their own dorms more frequently lately, nightmares subsiding as time passes, but—Still. It isn’t strange. It’s normal how easily Yuuji agrees, following Megumi in and slipping under the soft covers beside him. Megumi keeps a respectful distance, like he always does—but there’s only so much distance you can put on a twin-sized mattress. It isn’t strange when they wake up with the comforter rumpled and their limbs tangled together— It’s just them.
Megumi is exhausted.
He collapses against the street bench beside Kugisaki, where they wait together for Yuuji to return with some convenience store ice cream. It isn’t necessarily hot out, but they’re on the cusp of spring. Flowers are beginning to bloom while the winter chill subsides enough that he doesn’t need to wear a jacket out anymore. Besides, they’ve all worked up a sweat in the past few hours.
An afternoon out in the city with Yuuji and Kugisaki is no easy feat. Megumi has never liked crowded places, yet all day long, he’s had to deal with streets and shops filled to the brim with strangers who have zero spatial awareness, constantly bumping into him or elbowing him in the ribs with their bony elbows. It was getting increasingly hard to keep his cool, especially with Yuuji and Kugisaki bickering constantly— most of it was pretend and light-hearted, they’re hardly ever actually arguing— about who should hold what bag and who’s more embarrassing than the other. Megumi would argue that they’re both equally embarrassing, no concern for how to act properly in public, but he didn’t want to deal with the two of them ganging up on him, so he kept his mouth shut.
A light breeze washes over him, cooling down the heat of his stress. He leans back against the bench fully, closes his eyes against the beaming sun, and lets the calm overtake him. It’s quieter here, which is nice, and the sun mingled with the breeze is just warm enough to keep him from feeling overstimulated, already on edge from the day he’s had. It’s not like he doesn't want to hang out with his friends; he values their company immensely, especially now, but—He just wishes they’d pick places that weren’t so loud. Like here, on this old street outside of some old convenience store, where it's peaceful. Even Kugisaki seems beat from all that shopping, quiet as she organizes her bags in the empty space next to her.
It lasts for no more than a minute.
“Would you rather go bald or get a mullet?”
Megumi huffs out a long, heavy sigh, cracking open an eye to shoot her a half-hearted glare. “What?”
“I said—”
“No, I heard you,” Megumi sits up, “Just– What? It’s a stupid question.”
“What’s the answer, then?” She challenges.
“Mullet.”
Kugisaki pulls a face, like she’s displeased by that response. “Really?”
Megumi raises a brow, “What, you’d go bald?”
“I think so. I’d rather that than a mullet, anyway. I have a good head shape for it, don’t you think?” She flattens her hair with her hands, giving a few poses for extra emphasis.
Megumi stares blankly. “I mean, I guess—”
Kugisaki interrupts him with a high-pitched shriek, scrambling away from the bench. Megumi flinches before pushing away from it too, whipping his head all around in search of a curse. It’s at that moment that Yuuji walks through the automatic doors of the convenience store, three ice-cream bars in hand.
“What’s wrong?” Yuuji calls, shoving the treats into his pocket and rushing over.
Megumi frowns, still on guard but less frantic; he doesn’t sense any curses. He turns to her, “Kugisaki, why are you screaming?”
“A bee landed on you. You didn’t see it? Oh my god, it’s right there! Fushiguro, get in front of me—” She shrieks again, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt and forcing him to cover her. Megumi just lets her, dumbfounded.
Is Kugisaki, a girl who fights curses literally every week, seriously terrified over a bee?
“Hey!” Yuuji chides, grabbing onto Megumi’s other sleeve, “Don’t use him like he’s a human shield! Megumi’s scared of bugs too, you know!”
Kugisaki tugs again, causing Megumi to stumble over his feet. “Yeah, right. Since when—”
“I think that’s enough,” Megumi breaks away from them before they can continue tossing him around like a rag doll, “The bee is gone now. Let’s just eat our ice cream and go the fuck home.”
Kugisaki and Yuuji both pout and huff like students scolded by a teacher, but Yuuji takes the ice-cream bars out of his pocket and passes them around nonetheless. It’s awkward for about thirty seconds before Yuuji and Kugisaki go back to their normal selves, Yuuji trying to force her to put her bags on the ground so they can all sit on the bench while they wait for Ijichi. He ends up holding them in his lap, sitting in the middle of his friends, looking content, while Kugisaki has a smug grin—Silently gloating that she got Yuuji to carry her bags again.
Once Ijichi arrives, they force Megumi to sit in the middle, even though he has the longest legs and one of them could’ve easily just sat in the front. He points out that last part, but they shove him into the back anyway and insist it’s ‘tradition’. He begrudgingly accepts it, too tired to enter an argument over a seat in the car. He doesn’t even have the mind to complain when Yuuji passes out five minutes into the drive, snoring softly and drooling against his shoulder. It’s disgusting, truly, but his stupid brain can’t help but find it anything other than endearing. Endearing in a way where he wants to squeeze something until it pops— He can’t do that to Yuuji, though, so he settles for resting a hand around his shoulder. Yuuji snuggles closer, and—
“So, you’re scared of bugs now?”
“What?” Megumi blinks, throat suddenly feeling tight.
“C’mon, Fushiguro. You were not scared of that bee.”
“Maybe I was,” He shoots back, head pointedly facing forward, staring out of the windshield. He watches with feigned interest as Ijichi gets cut off by some old guy in a truck.
Kugisaki snorts, completely unbelieving. “Right. Are you gonna try to convince me that your whole performance at the theatre was real, too? I didn’t say anything then, 'cus it was, like, painfully awkward, but what was that all about?”
Despite his best efforts to suppress it, a flush steadily makes its way up Megumi’s neck. It burns all the way to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Maybe, if he just stays silent, this conversation will end, and he won’t have to explain himself.
He can never have what he wants.
“Are you blushing?—” Kugisaki begins with a teasing tone, before cutting herself off with a loud gasp as she seemingly comes to a revelation. Megumi’s mind screams at him, ‘she’s figured you out,’ and he scrambles to clamp a hand over her mouth before she can say anything, because Ijichi is right there and Yuuji is asleep right next to them.
Kugisaki doesn’t really try to push him away, but she looks at him with wide eyes that say ‘seriously?’, reading him like a book. Not being able to come up with a fathomable excuse, and not having the heart to blatantly deny his feelings to Kugisaki, who has clearly figured out the truth, Megumi nods— It’s a bit pathetic, a tiny tilt of his head as he avoids eye contact, staring down at the car’s floor. He lowers his hand slowly, and Kugisaki lets out a quiet, ‘damn,’ before smacking his shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m your friend, you know. I would’ve found a way to make sure Itadori and Ozawa didn’t go out together.”
“Kugisaki—” Megumi begins, tired.
“And stop calling me by my last name! I know you’re not in love with me like you are with Itadori,” Megumi bristles at that, ready to retaliate, “Close your mouth, you and I both know it's true. Anyway, I know we aren’t in love— which, ew— but I do love you. You guys are my best friends. You should tell me stuff like that.” She finishes, crossing her arms with a disappointed frown.
Megumi blinks a few times, guilt and fondness swimming around in his chest, clumping together in a strange emotion that leaves him feeling a bit nauseous. He loves her too, of course, and Yuuji— It’s just not something they typically say out loud. “...Okay, Nobara,” Megumi corrects, beginning his sentence slowly. Nobara smiles at that, one of her genuine ones, where it’s slightly crooked. “I don’t want to prevent Yuuji and Ozawa from going out. I just want him to be happy.”
Her smile drops just as quickly as it came. “The hell? You think he wouldn’t be happy with you?”
“Not in that way—”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. He clearly loves you.” Kugisaki pauses for a moment, humming thoughtfully, like she’s considering her words. “I mean, I know I just found out, like, two minutes ago, but— Looking back on everything now, it’s been super obvious the whole time. I don’t know how I didn’t notice. I guess I just thought you guys were, like, trauma-bonded or something…” She trails off, mumbling to herself before suddenly punching at his shoulder again. Yuuji jostles slightly from the force of it, and Megumi is a bit worried he’s going to wake up. He doesn’t, though, only adjusts and turns his face further into Megumi’s shoulder; Yuuji has always slept like a rock. “Which, rude, by the way. How dare you guys trauma bond without me while I was in a coma?”
“Uh. Sorry.”
Nobara sighs. “Yeah, you’d better be,” She leans back against her seat, still eyeing him with that look in her eye, like she’s picking his very being apart. “Just tell him how you feel,” She lifts her hand to flick his forehead fondly.
“And stop lying. It’s cringe.”
A week passes without incident.
Everything feels normal, almost too normal, and it leaves Megumi feeling fidgety, on edge. Nobara hasn’t said anything to him since that day, and if it weren’t for the ‘knowing’ looks she sends every time the three of them are together, specifically when Yuuji isn’t paying attention, it would be like she doesn’t know anything at all. Sometimes, horrifyingly, she even winks at him, which— Megumi thinks it’s pretty ridiculous, the way she has to exaggerate the movement because of her eyepatch, so he knows she’s winking and not just, well, blinking.
Megumi knows she’s waiting for him to do something, but she isn’t making him like she usually would. He’s finding it rather difficult to conceptualize a plan to come clean to Yuuji and, well, confess all of his embarrassing, mushy feelings. He isn’t like that— Megumi doesn’t just say how he feels. If he wants someone to know, he just acts how he acts and hopes they’ll get it. Tsumiki did, and he thinks Satoru did, too— But Yuuji is different. He is eerily similar to Satoru in many ways, but Megumi thinks that while Yuuji can be genuinely clueless, Satoru always knew more than he let on. Tsumiki and Satoru had known Megumi since he was a little kid, so it was probably a lot easier for them to understand him without having to say a single thing.
Now, though, there’s Yuuji, and Megumi doesn’t know how to handle that. He’s never felt like this before, ever, and now he’s expected to say all he's feeling out loud?
So, yeah, he’s struggling.
Megumi lies over his sheets, absent-mindedly tracing little streaks of light that the setting sun shines on the ceiling through his curtains. He’s been doing this more often lately, lying still in bed as he tries to think. There isn’t much time to be alone with his thoughts during the day; his schedule is full with classes, training, missions, and Yuuji or Nobara (sometimes even both) bothering him to hang out during breaks. He only gets to be truly alone at the end of the day, when everyone else is too tired to bother him. Sometimes, even this part of his day is interrupted, too. He supposes that’s just the life that comes with living on campus.
So, he isn’t all that surprised when Nobara comes barging into his room without even knocking. He partially sits up in acknowledgement, fixing her with a raised brow, questioning her intrusion. She’s in her pajamas, eyes slightly frantic, chest heaving like she just ran over here.
“I need you to come to my room. Now.”
Megumi lies back down. “For what?”
Nobara scowls, marching over to drag him out of bed. “There’s a spider in my room. I need you to get rid of it.”
“You can kill a curse but not a spider?” Megumi stumbles as his feet meet the floorboards, Nobara nearly tugging his arm from the socket as she yanks him up.
“Megumi!” She whines, crossing her arms and glaring with a pout set on her lips. “Please? Haven’t I been so nice about your thing with Yuuji—”
“Okay,” Megumi snaps, cutting her off before she can say more. “Fine, jeez,” he grumbles, brushing past and trudging down the hallway toward her room. Her door has been left ajar, probably swung open haphazardly in her attempt to flee. He enters, grabbing a bowl and a lid from her kitchenette. The spider sits on her pillow, about the size of a nickel. Megumi glowers over his shoulder at Nobara, who peers in the room from the hallway, and asks, “Seriously? It’s not even a big one.”
“Just get rid of it!” She snaps.
Megumi rolls his eyes but looks back at the spider anyway. He scoops it up swiftly, and for some reason, it gives him a strange sense of deja vu. He ignores that, though, walking over to hand the container to Nobara.
“Ew!” She shrieks, jumping away. “Take it outside! I don’t wanna touch it!”
Megumi rolls his eyes and huffs. “It’s just a bug.”
“Get rid of it!”
Megumi curses under his breath, too tired to deal with this, and treks off toward the dorm entrance. Nobara trails not far behind, and Megumi wonders why she couldn’t just do this herself.
Once outside, he chucks the spider off somewhere in the distance and turns back to the steps leading into the dorms, where Nobara is standing, looking weary.
“What?” Megumi asks, pausing at the bottom step. “It’s gone now.”
Nobara clears her throat, “Um–”
“Megumi?”
Megumi flinches and jerks his head to the side. Yuuji stands there, face twisted in confusion. Megumi’s brows furrow in his own bewilderment; Yuuji wasn’t supposed to be back until later tonight. He’d been sent on a last-minute solo mission, a first-grade curse somewhere deep in Tokyo.
“You’re back early,” Megumi comments.
“Oh. Yeah, the curse ended up being a lot weaker than they thought. I got it done pretty quick,” He grins, before looking back at the container in Megumi’s hand. “But, uh, what were you doing with that spider, Megumi? Is this some kind of exposure therapy or something?”
Megumi has been caught.
He should’ve known this would happen eventually. He couldn't procrastinate forever, and baseless lies always come to light. Even if the person you lied to is as oblivious as Yuuji Itadori.
He can’t lie anymore.
Megumi groans and sits on the steps, weighed down by the heaviness of acceptance. Acceptance that he finally has to tell the truth and admit his stupid feelings.
Nobara, for once, takes this as a sign to leave, plucking the container from Megumi’s hands and scurrying off inside.
“...Megumi?” Yuuji asks cautiously, approaching slowly, like Megumi's a wounded animal. He lets out a long, heavy sigh before gesturing for Yuuji to sit down. He does, bracing a comforting hand against Megumi’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Yuuji frowns. The sun has almost set by now, but the few rays left gleam on Yuuji’s face, painting him golden. His uniform and hair are slightly rumpled from fighting the curse, and he has a little pout as he stares into Megumi’s eyes. He doesn’t know how he’s lied to him for this long.
“Are you upset ‘cus of the spider?”
“Wha— No.”
Yuuji’s thumb begins to rub soothing circles across Megumi’s shoulder blade. “It’s okay if you are—”
“Yuuji, I’m not scared of the spider.”
He blinks, lashes fluttering over honey-brown eyes as his brows furrow further. “Huh? Did you get over your fear?”
Megumi huffs and looks away, down into his lap. He traces a mindless path against the stone step with his finger as he mumbles, “I was lying, Yuuji. There was never a ‘fear’.”
Yuuji is silent for nearly a minute, and Megumi doesn’t dare a single glance. The wind whistles quietly as the evening cicadas begin their song, making the silence seem that much louder. Megumi feels like he’s holding his breath, chest tight as he waits for Yuuji to respond.
“...What?” He eventually asks, sounding even more confused than before. “Why would you lie to me?”
Megumi’s nail scratches against the stone. “Because I was…. Jealous,” He admits, finally. It’s a little relieving, having that weight finally off his chest, but he’s mostly ashamed. His cheeks burn with embarrassment, pulse racing, but he forces himself to continue anyway, because Yuuji deserves to know the truth—Even if this could end their friendship and ruin his perception of Megumi forever. “At the theatre.”
This time, Megumi spares a quick glance from the corner of his eye, enough to see the way Yuuji is opening and closing his mouth like a fish, fumbling for a response.
“...Of Ozawa?”
Megumi mutely nods.
“Aw, Megu,” Yuuji pulls him closer, “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna leave you guys for her. She’s a great friend, but I could never leave you guys behind!”
Megumi’s chest constricts, and his eye twitches in frustration. Of course, he still doesn’t get it. He doesn’t think about romance. Not for Ozawa, and definitely not for me.
“Not like that,” Megumi shoves him away, probably too harshly, but he isn’t being rational right now. All his frustration, every feeling he’s felt toward Yuuji is bubbling to the surface in one heated mess as the truth comes closer and closer to being unraveled. Yuuji looks a little hurt, his brows pinched and mouth slightly agape, but Megumi barrels on. “Did you even notice that Ozawa was asking you on a date?”
“What? No, she wasn’t.” Yuuji denies, staring at him like he’s grown a second head, like Megumi is the one misunderstanding things somehow. It only serves to irritate him further.
“Yes, she was, Yuuji. She's in love with you.”
“No, she—” Yuuji begins another defense, but he closes his mouth halfway through to consider. As he thinks back on every interaction, his features grow more and more horrified, finally realizing Ozawa’s intentions. “Oh my god, she is. I— I had no idea! She probably thinks I was leading her on!” He runs a panicky hand through his hair, heaving a heavy sigh. “I’ll have to apologize...”
Megumi watches the way Yuuji’s shoulders hunch slightly, curling in on himself with guilt as he stares down at the pavement. “Yeah, you probably should. You didn’t know, though, so it’s… You’re fine. It’s not like you were being malicious.” Megumi says, an awkward attempt at comfort. Yuuji blinks a few times before slowly turning his head back to Megumi, squinting up at him with a small frown. He unfurls himself before asking his next question.
“Wait, so you were jealous that Ozawa asked me on a date?”
Megumi’s heart is hammering in his chest, threatening to jump right out through his ribs. He forces himself to be brave, to look Yuuji in the eye as he nods slowly. Yuuj’s eyes widen comically, and his jaw falls open. He snaps it shut just as quickly and gnaws on the corner of his lip as he processes what Megumi just confirmed.
“...So, you… like me?” Yuuji asks cautiously, tilting his head. His eyes flick all across Megumi’s face, like he’s worried for the answer.
And, in that moment, Megumi decides something: This may be the last time he ever gets to have Yuuji like this, the before, when everything was normal, so he might as well be as honest as he can. He’ll allow himself to be sappy, just this once. He’ll regret it if he just admits ‘yeah, I ‘like’ you,’ Yuuji rejects him, and they move on with an awkward tension plaguing their relationship for the rest of their lives. It’s now or never— and, for once, Megumi is choosing now.
“I don’t just like you,” Megumi admits softly. He glances down, tangling his hands together in his lap, as if trying to wring out his nerves. “It’s— You’re… everything, Yuuji. It’s probably pretty fucking crazy, but I really don’t know what I’d do without you. I just– I don’t know how to navigate this, you know? I’ve been mostly alone my whole life; I never expected to… fall in love, or anything. But then you came along and completely destroyed that idea,” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “You were just so… you. You ate that finger just to help some people you hardly knew, when you could’ve just ran and saved yourself. I thought that might’ve been the last time I’d ever see you, but then you kept coming back. Every time I thought you were gone for good, you were back, somehow louder than before.” He sighs softly, crossing his arms against the night’s breeze; the sun has fully set now. “You’re so good, Yuuji. I never understood why you insisted on being around me, but I was too selfish to push you away. Maybe, if I had, I wouldn’t feel the way I feel, but I do. I learned to love your convictions, even when I didn’t understand them. I still understood that they made you who you are, so how could I hate them? The more time I spent with you, the more I found myself wanting to know every part of you, to know you deeper than anyone else could. I always miss your warmth when you're gone, and I love all the dumb jokes you make, even though they’re not funny, because they make you laugh, and all I want is to see you happy. I know it’s selfish and illogical, yet I can’t help but always wanting you for myself. Keep you safe from the world. Especially after everything we…” Megumi sniffs and abandons that sentence, curling further into himself. “Anyway. I’m sorry, but I fell in love with you.”
It is only when he’s finished speaking that he risks looking back over to Yuuji, and— And in all the scenarios Megumi has played out in his mind, all the possibilities he’s agonized over, tossing and turning in bed— In none of them was Yuuji looking at him like this: Breathless and grinning so hard that his eyes crinkle, shining with unshed tears, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. In none of them does he reach out for Megumi, pull him close, and breathe out into his ear, voice shaky yet undeniably fond, “Megumi, how could you ever think that I’m not in love with you?”
Megumi goes slack against him, held up only by Yuuji’s arms around his waist. His mind has gone completely blank, and he’s struggling to form a coherent thought. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Megumi was not prepared for a scene where Yuuji would reciprocate.
Nothing ever goes the way he thinks it will.
“You’re just saying that,” Megumi croaks out. It can’t be true; He would’ve noticed. There’s no way he wouldn’t have noticed.
“Megumi,” Yuuji says, his tone scolding. He pushes Megumi back just enough to make gold meet green, staring into his eyes with intent. “I’m really not. I could never be as good with words as you are, but I love you, Megumi. It’s always been you. You say I’m good, but I don’t think you realize that you are, too. You always act like you’re not, but I notice, Megumi. You’re polite to strangers, you always go out of your way to help your friends and classmates, you're always trying to make sure that everyone around you is happy. You care, Megumi. Even if you’re not as loud about it as I am, that’s okay. I still love you just as much when you’re grumpy.” Yuuji tacks on a poke to Megumi’s nose to pair with the last part of his confession, grinning teasingly.
Megumi’s heart soars, a jumble of emotions caught in his throat. His hands tighten against the back of Yuuji’s uniform jacket, gripping onto reality. It still feels too good to be true. “You– Why didn’t you say anything, then?”
Yuuji pulls a hand to his face, scratching at his cheek, bashful. “Ah, I dunno. I’ve always been more actions than words when it comes to how I feel, so I thought I was being pretty obvious. You’re super smart, so I thought for sure you knew. I assumed you were just being nice, not saying anything about it, instead of outright rejecting me…” He admits, cheeks burning scarlet.
“That’s stupid,” Megumi mutters. A swarm of butterflies dances in his stomach, excitement and nerves thrumming through his blood, and he has to bite back a smile before he can do something embarrassing like giggle.
Yuuji breathes out a soft chuckle, and they’re close enough that Megumi feels the air puff against his face. “I guess so, since I was completely off. You didn’t notice at all, did you?”
“I thought it was platonic.” Megumi’s eyes flick down as Yuuji bites on his bottom lip, tracing the motion.
Yuuji’s voice drops down an octave as he speaks, “It wasn’t.” He murmurs. Then, “Megumi?”
“Yeah?” He answers, voice nearly a whisper. Yuuji’s gaze darts between Megumi's eyes and his mouth as he speaks.
“Can I kiss you?”
Megumi doesn’t hesitate for even a second before nodding an eager ‘yes’. His eyes drift closed, anticipation buzzing under his skin as Yuuji draws closer, feeling almost dizzy under the weight of it all.
Yuuji’s lips are soft and slightly chapped. The kiss is hesitant at first, almost awkward as their lips lightly press together; neither of them has kissed anyone before. Yuuji presses against him a little harder, tentatively moving against Megumi, and— It’s like a switch is flipped, electricity shocking them both the second they find some semblance of a rhythm, and they’re on each other like wild animals. This is real, it’s actually real, Megumi’s heart screams as he ravages Yuuji like a man dehydrated in a desert, drinking in every breath, every soft sound that escapes his lips. Yuuji’s hands skirt all over—grazing his shoulders, gripping at his waist, tracing up his back—before finally settling with one firmly braced against his hip, pulling him close, the other lightly tugging at his nape. Megumi takes the chance to run his hand through Yuuji’s hair, just as soft as he imagined, scratching softly against his scalp. He can smell Yuuji’s shampoo, something citrusy and tropical.
He has to pull away once Yuuji’s tongue starts prodding at his bottom lip, remembering they’re sitting out in the open; anyone could walk by and find them. His chest heaves and his face burns, but he feels more content than he has in weeks. Yuuji smiles softly at him, lips cherry-red and kiss bruised, gazing at Megumi with love in his eyes. Now that Megumi knows, he truly doesn’t get how he never noticed; Yuuji stares at him like this every day.
He smoothes out Yuuji’s hair to make him look presentable, though his cheeks are still splotchy red, and there’s not much Megumi can do about their equally kiss-stained lips. Yuuji attempts to lean back in, but Megumi holds him away with a firm hand to his chest.
“That’s enough. We’re outside.”
Yuuji pouts but obliges, leaning back against the steps.
“Well,” He huffs, dreamily, “That was the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Yuuji just grins cheekily, yanking Megumi up and dragging him inside.
Later, after the moon has long since risen, they lie tangled together under Yuuji’s sheets, watching a random movie that Megumi hasn’t been paying attention to.
“Y’know,” Yuuji starts. Megumi looks over to him with a questioning hum. “When you first told me about your ‘fear,” he unwraps his arms from Megumi’s shoulders to give exaggerated air quotes, “I thought I had finally found the reason why you always avoid watching The Human Earthworm movies with me.”
“I don’t watch them with you because those movies are stupid.”
Yuuji gasps loudly, pushing Megumi away. “They are not!”
“They are, but that’s alright,” Megumi tugs him back, a small smile on his face. “Sometimes I like things that are stupid, too,” He admits, looking pointedly into Yuuji’s eyes.
Yuuji grins, not offended at all. “Megumi!” He exclaims, giddy, “I didn’t know you were such a flirt!” He says, before smacking a too loud and, frankly, too hard kiss on Megumi’s lips.
Megumi just lets him.