Aqua Regia

by kumorou

Summary:

Megumi was his ace card.

If someone as strong as Gojo saw Megumi as a person worthy enough to stand by him in equal strength, then Megumi had to work hard to catch up. He couldn’t get left behind. He didn’t expect to improve drastically overnight, he was aware this was gonna take a lot of time, hard work and effort, but those were all things he was willing to put in.

A new motivation was sparked in him, a goal only he could do. If Gojo saw something special in him that only he could help the man with, he needed to prove himself, because this seemed like something no one else could replace.

Notes:

i started writing this in 2023, but a large gap from a block got in my way. im so so happy to finally be able to post it now

Fushiguro Megumi is a very aloof person. He’s respectful to everybody he meets for the first time, he doesn’t talk much, and he’s not very condescending.

 

It could be why people didn’t dislike him. There really was no reason to. So in general, he was equally respected by most people he knew.

 

However, just as people had no reason to dislike him, they had no particular reason to actively seek out his company. Since few people were unlikely to reach out to him first, he’d gotten used to spending most of his time alone. That said, he himself didn't particularly mind. Of course, his peers and friends enjoyed the time they spent with him, yet he wasn't exactly the sort of person who would immediately be someone's first choice to spend their day with.

 

And yet, recently, the reality of his loneliness has been more evident to him due to the lack of one specific person in his life.

 

Is he just overthinking, or has it really gotten worse?

 

 

 

——

 

 

 

The earliest person Megumi can remember in his life is Tsumiki… And that’s pretty much it.

 

He doesn’t remember his own father, and even if he was at an age old enough to remember Tsumiki’s mother, he all but forgot about her as well, considering she decided to just leave two children behind on their own without a word.

 

And unfortunately Megumi doesn’t know what happened to his own birth mother. Whether something tragic happened to her, or she abandoned him as well, he might never know. He holds no grudge against her because he feels he has no right to judge considering he doesn’t know her story—but with two out of three of the adults in his life abandoning him all the same, it wouldn’t be a reach to assume a pattern was going on.

 

So now all that was left was him and Tsumiki; two children in a small and old apartment, in a smaller and older neighborhood.

 

They managed to find enough money around their home to live off of cheap bentos and instant food from the convenience store. And even Tsumiki, as young as she was, knew how to cook simple things such as rice balls and fried eggs. Praise the ease and convenience of rice cookers! (But if two young kids knew how to properly wash the rice or not, well, as long as they got to eat there should be no complaints).

 

Megumi, at only six years old, didn’t know how much longer they could go on like this before they would end up on the street, or be taken away and separated. But he tried to make it last, skipping as much food as he could or sneaking some of his portion onto her plate, just so Tsumiki had more to eat.

 

He could get away with it sometimes, but his older sister was keen, taking her responsibility seriously and always made sure Megumi had enough to eat every day; going as far as to add extras for the boy in secret because she knew he was too humble and selfless to accept more. Knowing Megumi tried to give her some of his portion without her knowledge, this way they both got at least equal portions.

 

Megumi didn’t understand how, despite their situation, Tsumiki always managed to smile, always tried to hold his hand while they would walk to and from school. She could still make friends and somehow not give away the fact that the two of them were orphaned, abandoned and alone and running out of expenses to feed themselves and pay impending bills.

 

It’s sad to think that two young children, both below the age of 10, were forced to stress over bills and were already aware of the consequences of not paying them. Kids their age should be mindlessly playing with their imagination outside and believing the sky and water were actually blue.

 

But another major thing Megumi couldn’t understand about his sister was how Tsumiki wasn’t scared of some of the creepy inhuman things he began to see floating around, at the shadows peeking through corners or under lamp posts. He began to wonder that maybe at this point she just couldn’t see them at all? Or maybe she chooses to ignore them. So he decided to start doing that as well. Just ignore them. Ignore the hairs rising on his neck and down his back, ignore the sentences repeatedly spoken in a trembling voice that he couldn’t make sense of.

 

And just when Megumi felt like they were reaching their end of expenses, and ultimately the end of their life together, a stranger showed up from behind him when he was walking home from school. Odd how he didn’t even hear the guys footsteps following him.

 

“Fushiguro Megumi-kun, right?”

 

 

——

 

 

A few years have passed, and truthfully speaking not much has changed. Well, at least in terms of Megumi’s personal life.

 

He still had no friends. If anything all he did was make enemies.

 

He was in middle school now, and one thing that pissed him off was seeing other guys the same age as him act like they owned the world. Ha, it was truly rich seeing other 13 year olds act like they had any authority over anything or anyone, and that kind of personality is exactly what fueled the fire in his fists.

 

He would watch them when teachers weren’t around, or outside of school grounds, picking on the kids who couldn’t stand up for themselves. The ones who didn’t bother anyone, the ones who also didn’t have friends, and maybe just like Megumi, didn’t have a family.

 

Hidden deep down in his heart, they almost reminded Megumi of himself, but he convinced himself to see Tsumiki in them instead. He didn’t need anyone to feel sorry for him, especially not himself.

 

He knew those bullies would be the same people to harass Tsumiki if they knew her backstory(and if she wasn’t already liked by most). It pissed him off to no end to see the kids who, like Tsumiki who only minded their own business, be cornered and abused. They never did anything to anyone else that made them deserve such treatment, especially by pricks their own age who didn’t even have a penny to their name. Had they even had any kind of authority as an excuse, it would still never be right. Humans are humans all the same.

 

So of course the only thing that made sense to Megumi was to beat a lesson or two into their heads, and in the end, he always won.

 

And it was thanks to Gojo’s training.

 

Now it wasn’t only Megumi and Tsumiki against the big scary world. Gojo had stepped into the picture as well, more involved in their lives than Megumi expected him to be.

 

The first time Gojo showed up just a few years prior, Megumi thought he was one of the government workers that had finally found out about the children's living situation and came to take them away. But looking closer he realized Gojo was wearing a school uniform, which had Megumi thinking he was now just this teenagers easy target for shits and giggles. Naturally he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight though, even if he knew he was outmatched.

 

It wasn’t until Gojo started talking about things that didn’t make sense, yet somehow did at the same time, that Megumi’s guard had dropped unknowingly. He was talking about things Megumi didn’t understand, but it answered questions of the things that have been plaguing the young boys mind recently.

 

Gojo brought up Megumi’s father unprompted, where his father was from, and how he sold the boy to a clan called Zen’in for a lot of money—Which explains why his dad seemingly ran away, and why Tsumiki’s mom left too. They most likely took that money and went to live a luxurious life somewhere far without the burden of children in an old broken down apartment.

 

Then Gojo started mentioning things that explained why Megumi could see those monsters around outside, which was actually why Megumi was sold to that clan in the first place. Apparently he was born with some sort of special inherited trait that was worth a lot of money to the Zen’in. It also finally answered why Tsumiki wasn’t scared and Megumi was the only one that could seemingly notice the monsters, or rather, cursed spirits.

 

He didn’t really like Gojo from the start, because he was still a stranger who oddly knew too much about the boys background and situation. Megumi didn’t know if he could trust grown ups anymore—He couldn’t even trust the adults that were supposed to take care of him and his sister. But Gojo was the first and only adult in his life that was straight up honest with him, as harsh as the honesty was, because as much as Megumi cares for his sister who was trying her best to live a life of positivity, even he sees that as a bit deceitful, or at least too hard to believe. There’s no way Tsumiki can live in a world where they were both treated and abandoned the way that they were and still see the good in others first. This lie she seemed to live where everything was butterflies and rainbows got on his nerves.

 

Gojo was the only person who didn’t hide things from Megumi. He told him about the world, about shitty realities and corrupt people. But he also told him how to become stronger, how to overcome those things. He told Megumi about his dreams to improve the world for people like them; people with cursed energy and especially those with valuable techniques. And it would be an improved world not just for sorcerers, but for normal humans like Tsumiki as well. It was a win-win world, but a dream that took time and patience.

 

He further took care of the two kids by providing them an income to pay for their apartment, to buy more food so they didn’t have to live off of one shared meal a day, and enough money left over for whatever else that they wanted. Emphasis on wanted and not only needed.

 

Megumi could tell at a young age that Gojo was a busy person, yet he still made time to visit the children any time he could. That’s more effort than their own parents put in, and all for two children he wasn’t even related to. It took Megumi a while to warm up to the man, and even longer because Gojo learned the right ways to push Megumi’s buttons and enjoyed messing with him. But with the promise of getting stronger, with learning something new about the world each time, and a new start to grow up properly, Megumi finally saw a future with possibility.

 

 

——

 

 

Megumi had his eyes locked on the ground, hands on his lap clenched tightly.

 

Tsumiki was laying in front of him on a hospital bed, the golden hour sun cascading over her figure. So still and unmoving, you could barely notice her breathing unless you stared at her long enough as Megumi had.

 

She now bore a symbol on her forehead, etched in her skin. A symbol no one could seem to decipher the meaning of.

 

It’s been a month since Tsumiki has been in a coma, and there were still no answers as to why this happened or what it meant for her.

 

Why did she get cursed? How long will it last? How can it be removed? Can it be removed? Will she even survive?

 

Even Gojo didn’t have the answers, which further made Megumi feel uneasy. Gojo was the person that seemed to know everything, the one who was most honest to Megumi. But for once it seemed like even the man couldn’t come up with an answer this time, and Megumi felt that dread deep in his bones.

 

Why?

 

Why was this stuff happening? Tsumiki had done nothing wrong, she had nothing to do with the sorcery and curse world, how did she get tangled into this and not Megumi? Why is it that something always happens to the people around him? Something happens that always makes them leave or disappear.

 

He… He’s just a kid, isn’t he? He’s barely a proper teenager, but now he’s all alone in the world. He has no one. He has no friends, and now he officially has no family.

 

Is he cursed? Is his name a curse? Megumi had always resented his father for giving him a girls name without even caring about his gender, like this man had nothing to do with his life even before he was fully developed.

 

Megumi.

 

Blessing.

 

A very ironic name for a very ironic life. It definitely has to be a curse. It has to be. Because why else-…

 

If the world cursed him, he wanted to curse it back. He wanted to curse it back double.

 

His fists clenched tighter in his lap, his breathing picking up in panic and anger. He could feel the indignation rising in him like a thick veil, heavy against his back.

 

 

If I have the time to curse someone, I’d rather spend it thinking about those precious to me.

 

 

He closed his eyes, repeating Tsumiki’s words in his head like a magic spell that would help dissipate the overflowing anxiety when it got too much, trying his damn all to even out his breathing. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. He unclenched his jaw, and his breathing began to slow down again. His eyes unclenched, the wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothing out.

 

He didn’t exactly know what she meant at that moment when she first said it to him. But now he thinks he understands.

 

This isn’t the time to think about the world, about someone somewhere that doesn’t know he exists. He needs to think about Tsumiki first. He needs to find out how to bring her back, he needs to worry about healing her; not about hurting someone else, especially someone that hadn’t done anything to him. Just like the way his sister focused her time thinking about Megumi and worrying for him when their parents left them. She never made too much of a fuss, instead concentrating on the one person left in her life to take care of. And now he thinks he gets why she still had a smile on her face when they were children.

 

Finally he let out one long exhale, sweat on his palms dried up, shoulders slacking and relaxed, spine straightening out.

 

Megumi stood up from his seat, looking at his bedridden sister one more time with an expressionless face, and a spirit that was dwindling but not giving up. He turned on his heel and made his way to the door where Gojo stood, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and white bandages wrapped around his eyes. He was there the whole time, never saying a word or feeling a need to hurry Megumi no matter how long the boy sat on that same chair in this same hospital room getting lost in his thoughts. No doubt he saw the rise in Megumi’s cursed energy earlier, but he hadn’t said anything, just let it play out on its own.

 

“Ready?” Gojo asked.

 

Megumi nodded, his eyes remaining glued to the ground, still finding it hard to say a word when he’s in this room. Gojo replied with a soft spoken alright before he straightened up, making room for the boy to pass through the door first before following behind.

 

He rests his hand on Megumi’s shoulder as they walk down the hallway. The warmth of his palm, the subtle grip, helps Megumi start to feel a little grounded.

 

Maybe he’s not fully alone.

 

 

——

 

 

Megumi stops getting into fights at school.

 

He still doesn’t have friends. Still doesn’t put an effort into making any either.

 

But his reputation is already set. Plenty of his peers still avoid him in the hallways, and bullying has stayed at a minimum as to avoid ending up in the rumored pile of bodies people swear they’ve seen Fushiguro Megumi sitting on top of. He doesn’t have a reason to fight anymore, but even if he did, he’s been focusing his energy on different things.

 

Everyday is the same. He goes to school, goes home, does his homework, makes something to eat, and trains himself and his shikigami until he only has enough energy left to take a shower before going to bed, and repeat.

 

Some days he trains with Gojo, but most days the man can’t stop by, so Megumi will go over the things he’s learned from him by himself, using it to take time learning how to properly feel his cursed energy. He’s going to be enrolled in Jujutsu High in the coming future, so he needs to be as prepared as he can.

 

His days have become so monotonous that even Gojo has begun to notice. Megumi hasn’t had any new stories to tell him about his day, no new experiences. The school doesn’t even contact him anymore about any concerns or fights. The boy has gotten his childhood stripped from him, and now he’s missing out on being a teenager. Gojo knows that right now Megumi is the most free he can be before he becomes a student at Jujutsu Tech, and ultimately a sorcerer.

 

“Megumi, I’m home!!”

 

Gojo doesn’t live with him, but he likes to say that every time he stops by.

 

“Gojo-san, you’re here early. I still haven’t finished my homework.” Megumi called back, rarely sparing a glance from the notes in front of him.

 

Gojo steps into the room where Megumi was sitting at the floor table, paper sheets and thick books scattered around him as he was currently focused on scribbling some mumbo jumbo down. “Ahhh, homework this homework that,” he waves off. “You have the whole weekend to finish them later,” he squats down next to Megumi, putting his phone screen to the boys face. “Look at this!”

 

Megumi had to back up a little to actually focus on the screen invading his space. On the screen looks to be a fancy traditional ryokan somewhere in the countryside, not too far from Saitama from what Megumi can see listed as the location. Okay, it’s nice, but why was Gojo showing him this?

 

“What about it?” he asked, looking past the phone screen at Gojo.

 

“Come with me.” Gojo smiled at him, blue eyes peeking above his sunglasses. Looks like Gojo wasn’t too busy today as he wasn’t wearing his eye bandages. Actually, Megumi noticed he wasn’t even in uniform either. Looks like Gojo Satoru can get a day off too. Either that or he was diligent enough to listen to orders and get his work done smooth and quickly today.

 

“Oh, is this for another mission?” he turned back to his homework. Megumi didn’t take on missions of his own yet, but oftentimes he would accompany Gojo with his. The older man would invite him, and he would learn a lot about different types of curses from different cities and locations, part of his training. But of course Gojo was handling special grade curses, so they were definitely more dangerous and diverse than what Megumi would have to fight for his own. But special grade curses were better opportunities to learn from, and he was lucky Gojo was the one assigned to the mission so he knew he never had to actually be concerned for his safety as he worrylessly noted everything down.

 

“No! Megumi, forget about school, forget about jujutsu training. For one day, let’s go here and just relaaax~” he dragged out the last word like just saying it already melted away his problems.

 

Contrary to what he had just said, Gojo was not the type to exactly forget about jujutsu training. Any time to train, get stronger, and improve was always an opportunity to take. Gojo didn’t have to say anything for Megumi to know the man believes in always keeping his guard up. But Megumi has been training everyday, and although him getting better was a good thing, and as much as Gojo wants to see him catch up, he still wanted Megumi to embrace his youth while he still had it. He needed at least one day off to act like a normal teenager that didn’t have adult worries all the time. He didn’t need Megumi to grow up so fast.

 

So considering the fact that Megumi was now standing in front of the ryokan that was on Gojo’s phone screen only a few hours ago, the boy obviously didn’t have much of a choice in this decision. Gojo already had a reservation and the shinkansen tickets booked the whole time. Asking Megumi to join him was more of a heads up rather than an actual request. Megumi adjusted the straps of his backpack that were digging into his shoulders, sighing deeply. The sun had already completely set, but they were only here for one night and half of tomorrow.

 

“Ah, I can't wait! Let’s head in~” Gojo threw his arm over Megumi and squeezed the boy closer against his side before leading them in.

 

Megumi winces at being squished so close to the older man, struggling to match foot steps without tripping. He barely even let his own sister place a mere hand on his shoulder, so it’s taken a lot of time to just accept the fact that Gojo is gonna always get in his personal bubble whether he wants him to or not. Slapping his hand away or voicing his annoyance did little to nothing at deterring him. Trust, he’s tried.

 

It's kind of ironic. The man that can’t be touched is always forcing himself into Megumi’s space.

 

They go in and check into their room. It’s then that Megumi learns they have a private onsen when he notices the steaming bath outside the floor to ceiling windows, surrounded by a wall of trees for privacy in their suite. He's aware Gojo has enough money to throw away and not even notice, but he still can’t imagine how much Gojo is spending here for one night. For someone like that man, this isn’t luxury, this is simply a day to just unwind as the price is not even a forethought. He’s always been the kind of person to blindly swipe his card because the tag has never been a concern.

 

Megumi tells Gojo how this is his first time in an onsen, let alone a private one. He’s never even been in a simple bathhouse before. There’s a lot of things Megumi hasn’t done. Growing up, his main priority was just to make it through, so there were many things he couldn’t do just for the sake of doing them. Everything he’s done was only done for survival and/or necessity. When he did go out to all types of new locations with Gojo for missions, it wasn’t exactly very much a vacation, and the older man didn’t take him to the missions too far away where they’d need to stay overnight(especially when Tsumiki was still around). It would just be in a more nearby city where he still had time to make it back for dinner with his sister, occasionally stopping by a simple cafe to pick up sweets or local specialties.

 

When Megumi told him this was his first time, Gojo didn’t patronize him by acting surprised or cracking a joke for once. He just stopped and smiled at the boy. A genuine smile with gentle eyes that had Megumi feeling… Unfamiliar. Why was he looking at him like that?

 

Megumi was the first to break eye contact, changing the mental topic by placing his backpack somewhere on the bed. He scratches at his chest, subconsciously fidgeting by giving his hands something random to do. As he turned back around towards Gojo, the man was already pulling his shirt over his head, his torso bare and white hair disheveled. His muscles were completely chiseled, Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a perfect physique in person before.

 

“I can't wait anymore~ Come on, Megumi, let’s get in the bath already!”

 

Together? Like, at the same time?

 

Well, yeah duh, that makes sense. What else do people do in an onsen? Megumi doesn’t know why he feels the need to take in another deep breath, but he does anyway.

 

It’s just Gojo-san. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve taken a bath with him.

 

But it’s definitely been a long time since then, and it’s only happened a total of, what, two times? Still, they’re both guys, but for some reason Megumi is feeling almost… Shy?

 

Okay, for a moment he thinks to himself, what if he went into a public bath with his classmates? For some reason he feels like he can do that easily. Hell, even a bath with Tsumiki feels more normal, and the last time he’s done that was even longer ago than he did with Gojo. He almost feels like he does before he’s about to spar with Gojo, but hell, it’s only just a bath so why is he feeling a little unusually nervous.

 

Gojo starts to unbutton his pants and is about to pull them down when Megumi shoots back around, beginning to dig into his backpack for, well, nothing in particular really. He just felt like he had to turn away.

 

Just get it over with, it’s fine. He decides to take his time undressing slowly as he unbuttons his shirt little by little. It’ll be easier to go in if Gojo is already in there sitting somewhere so Megumi doesn’t have to walk in with him at the same time. That’s just plain awkward for a teen.

 

Thankfully Gojo did end up heading out before him, but not before telling Megumi to hurry up already and patting the boys bare back, which elicits some goosebumps on Megumi’s skin that thankfully Gojo didn’t notice as he turned and walked away quicker than they could raise. He isn’t exactly used to skin to skin contact like that. There’s a relief knowing that Gojo wasn’t expecting him and Megumi to go in at the same time though, so Megumi can take his time at his own pace and calm his nerves beforehand.

 

He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like this. It could be because it’s just been so long since Megumi has done anything with anyone that wasn’t purely professional and educational. Could it be that he’s more pent up with stress than he thought? Could this change of his regular schedule just be throwing him off a little? Maybe, that’s probably it. He has to tell himself to stop feeling awkward because he’s throwing the energy off. Relax, Megumi, just unwind for one day. Maybe this could be good, his training results might improve after today with a refreshed mind.

 

They’re both now sitting on the wooden stools, bodies lathered in soapy suds. Gojo offered to wash Megumi’s hair before the boy slapped his hand away, causing the man to chuckle lowly. At least this time Gojo did end up leaving him alone after the slap. That doesn’t happen very often.

 

Megumi is the first to rinse off despite coming in second, getting in the hot bath and feeling his entire body melt and relax for the first time since stepping in this building. For the first time in a long time, honestly. The steam was floating off the water around him, clouding his vision like a dream. Now he has a real excuse for the pink on his cheeks. Luckily the bath is big enough where they don’t need to be sitting close to each other.

 

Megumi had his arms crossed over the rim of the bath, leaning his chin onto his forearms as he looked off into the nature around them, listening to the crickets in the late night. It truly was so peaceful, even the sound of the running bath water was emptying his mind. Gojo wasn’t making any noise either for a while, before Megumi could feel the bath water ripple as the man entered. Gojo let out a low groan behind him, hanging his arms out by his sides and leaning his head back, and they both stayed like that.

 

And now, suddenly, it wasn’t awkward anymore doing this with Gojo. This was nice. This felt… Natural.

 

They both finished their bath, so comfortable they could’ve slept in it. They put on the clean and soft robes, courtesy of the ryokan, along with a beautifully arranged dinner with local meats and veggies. Later, they were sitting crisscrossed on their futons trying some local souvenirs Gojo picked up at the train station. Megumi has never had these before, Gojo never having dropped these off to him after a mission. This is his first time, and the subtle sweet flavor of it was actually nice. For the first time in a long time, the food wasn’t just food; it was an experience.

 

They talk for a little bit tucked into their covers, Gojo telling Megumi about some of the fun facts about the city they’re in, experiences he’s had here and making sure to avoid details about the missions he did. For once, he doesn’t want work and school to be on Megumi’s mind.

 

Of course Gojo did most of the talking, and Megumi was fine with listening to it. It’s not long before Megumi falls asleep mid story, and Gojo couldn’t help but smile at his peaceful sleeping face, a face he hasn’t seen in a while. Today was a needed thing after all.

 

 

——

 

 

Gojo taking Megumi out has become a weekly thing on whichever weekend day Gojo was most available.

 

Sometimes they go out of town, sometimes they stay near the surrounding area—but every week Gojo makes sure the boy gets to experience something new, or familiar, in a new stressless lens. If Megumi wants to spend his days doing school work and jujutsu training, then he at least deserves one day of the week to just be a normal teen.

 

And while experiencing something new was exciting, that wasn’t the important part to Megumi, because thanks to these outings, he’s really gotten closer to Gojo, and that has helped with his grieving tremendously. He would never admit out loud how he’s actually been beginning to look forward to their time together.

 

The two have always been somewhat close since Megumi was a child, considering the fact Gojo was the only other person Megumi knew outside of Tsumiki, and they had to spend a lot of time together for Gojo to teach him everything sorcery related. Megumi doesn’t really view Gojo as a brother, but him still being a teen while Megumi was a child felt like having an older brother.

 

But recently it’s felt… Different. More personal.

 

Maybe Gojo is still being considerate of Megumi losing his sister that the man has been a bit more gentle.

 

He still teases Megumi, annoys the boy, or ruffles his hair. That hasn’t changed. But it’s the way he smiles, the look in his eyes, or the way his teasing comes off light and not as actual pestering. He isn’t treating Megumi like a piece of glass, but more like… He truly cares.

 

As a child, Megumi was fun to mess with. Picking on him, lifting him by his thin arms, poking fun at his spicy attitude, and acting overall boisterous around the children. It almost felt like being treated like a toy when Gojo was bored and wanted to get a funny reaction for his own entertainment. And while Gojo can still be somewhat childish and energetic, Megumi has seen a side of him that felt a lot more personal, and it wasn’t like he saw much at all. In fact, all he saw was Gojo being silent. The older man would take Megumi sightseeing and actually look at the scenery around him.

 

Megumi would watch as Gojo’s eyes would be glued on whatever he was looking at, taking in the sight and not saying a word. But it wasn’t a bad silence where he looked like he had a lot on his mind. It was a comfortable one where Megumi could see that he looked like he was taking everything in and really appreciating it. In those moments, he looked like he finally stopped time, even for just a minute, like he didn’t have to say something. He looked peaceful, mature. In those moments, he truly looked like an adult. And maybe that’s what Gojo needed to do once in a while to keep his sanity in his suffocating schedule.

 

One particular memory that stuck was when Gojo had taken them to an aquarium. They stopped in front of a large tank that had many different types of fish swimming around, all colorful with unique patterns, shapes, and sizes. But Megumi couldn’t exactly tell you what fish he remembered, because his eyes had been stuck on Gojo.

 

The man was standing there, hands in his coat pockets, and eyes glittering as he was watching the fish. This time was a bit different. The man wasn’t smiling softly like he usually did while taking in a sight, but he didn’t look upset either. He looked lost in thought, but not in a negative way. Would an empty canvas be the right way to describe it? Because he just looked like he was there.

 

The longer Megumi looked, the more he noticed the way Gojo’s eyes reflected the water—blue irises bright and swirling with life. The look of pure liquid blue that he was convinced he could see the fish swimming around in as well.

 

The entire aquarium, the entire ocean, was there in Gojo’s eyes—and in that moment, Megumi thought it was possible to drown in those depths.

 

Gojo looked back at the boy after a few minutes, gentle smile back on his lips, and a soft look in his eyes Megumi could not decipher. But Megumi, still so captivated, couldn’t even turn away and pretend he hadn't been staring this entire time. They both stood side by side, seeing one another, and yet the eye contact didn’t feel wrong.

 

Gojo had chuckled then, laying his hand atop of Megumi’s naturally unruly hair and ruffled it just a bit. That’s when Megumi realized how warm his body felt that whole time.

 

They continued around the aquarium, talking and buying some snacks. But Megumi still couldn’t ignore the floating feeling in his chest, like laying in a bed of water.

 

 

——

 

 

Gojo had started to develop a habit of sleeping over at Megumi’s apartment every now and then.

 

His excuses were that it would save time so that when they woke up on their day off, they could go out straight away instead of Gojo having to wake up early and pick Megumi up, or that a mission was nearby, or this and that. Although Megumi didn’t know how legit of an excuse those actually were since he knew the man could teleport quite some distance. The city of Saitama wasn’t too far away from Tokyo Jujutsu Tech where he knows Gojo stays most of the time rather than his own home.

 

“It’s too far, takes up too much energy,” Gojo would whine. “I can't just teleport everywhere everyday!”

 

Okay, fine, not a big deal.

 

Except Gojo never brought his own futon, and Megumi didn’t have a spare. It especially didn’t feel right letting the man sleep on Tsumiki’s (which had been stored away). So the man insisted on sharing Megumi’s.

 

Well, he didn’t exactly insist on sharing more than he simply just fell asleep on Megumi’s futon one day before Megumi did, and the boy did his best pushing the man to make as much space for himself as he could until he just accepted that they had to share.

 

And that feeling in the teens stomach was back, but this time it didn’t feel light. This one was a bit heavier.

 

He’s confused by it, because it’s not a bad feeling. In fact, he would say it gives him a bit of a buzz. For some reason his body doesn’t reject it. He gets it when he’s around Gojo, he gets it when Gojo touches him, either on the head or arm. He even gets it just by thinking about him. This feeling is new and foreign, but not entirely unwelcomed. The rational part in Megumi’s mind wants to understand the root of it and maybe he can make sense of it enough to brush it off. But the more youthful part of Megumi’s mind tries to convince him to just let him feel it, what’s the harm?

 

But no matter how nice this feeling appears to be, it doesn’t let him sleep. At all.

 

Megumi will be in his futon, laying on his side, and Gojo will be right behind him facing the same way. He’ll be close, but not exactly touching.

 

He can feel the warmth of the other radiating near his back, listening to his breathing. Gojo might be asleep by now considering that Megumi hasn’t been able to drift off for about an hour—he can sense the mans cursed energy is more subdued. His whole body just feels too hot, and his stomach feels heavy. But again, for some reason, it’s not a bad feeling. Why does it almost feel like his body is craving?

 

One night he couldn’t stop the nagging in his head. This time Megumi had managed to turn around slowly so he could face Gojo who was also facing him, positive that the man was deep asleep—and sure enough, it seemed like he was. He didn’t stir, and his breathing remained slow and calm.

 

Megumi had to swallow the lump in his throat, really looking at him. Looking at how white his eyelashes were, or the way his nose bridge dips, the way his hair looks a bit disheveled against his forehead, or the slow rise and fall of his breathing. He couldn’t resist, reaching forward, just barely resting his hand on top of Gojo’s that laid by him.

 

Gojo’s hand was… Really big. And really warm.

 

Megumi couldn’t calm down, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. His eyes stayed glued on the others face, worried he’ll wake up any second.

 

This should be enough, right? But he still wasn’t satisfied.

 

Stuck in place like the world was frozen, it took a few moments for Megumi to move his thumb as gently as he could. He stroked Gojo’s knuckles, feeling bone and the veins in between. Why did this feel as good as it did?

 

It being Megumi’s first time actually experiencing physical contact didn’t help at all. No, not literally his first time. But this kind of touch, it was different.

 

He wasn’t just touching, he was feeling.

 

And now, it finally felt like enough.

 

Now he could close his eyes and fall asleep, knowing Gojo was right there next to him, taking up not nearly as much space as this feeling in his chest.

 

He wasn’t alone tonight.

 

 

——

 

 

Sleeping on the same futon together had escalated.

 

He realized it when one morning he woke up to Gojo’s arm wrapped around him from behind. His body had never woken up that fast once he realized what the weight around his torso was.

 

He always slipped out of bed before Gojo would wake up though, so maybe the older man didn’t know he was doing that. Perhaps he just thought Megumi was a pillow in his sleep, and Megumi didn’t wanna make things awkward by addressing it, so it’s better to pretend it wasn’t happening at all. Megumi made sure not to bring it up, but also deep deep down, he didn’t mind it. So there was no point in bringing a stop to it, right? As long as he woke up normally and went through his day normally, no harm was done.

 

That seemed to change when one night Gojo must’ve assumed Megumi had already fallen asleep first when the boy felt a big arm wrap around him from behind. No, that was not a weak arm still asleep, that was smooth, firm and intentional, and he was sure he wasn’t mistaken when it felt like the arm pulled him just slightly closer.

 

His eyes shot open so fast, but he didn’t make a move or sound indicating he was awake.

 

Gojo scooted closer, now fully pressing Megumi’s back against himself. Once he was situated more comfortably, he let out a content and sleepy groan before finally drifting off.

 

Megumi prayed Gojo couldn’t feel his temperature triple between their bodies.

 

The heat rose in his cheeks, neck, back, and embarrassingly, for the first time, between his legs.

 

 

——

 

 

Megumi was sat in the kotatsu at his apartment, currently focused on peeling a tangerine while Gojo stood off facing the window nagging at poor Ijichi through the phone.

 

“And another thing!—… Ah, hold on, stay on the line. I’m getting another call,”

 

Ijichi barely got a panicked word in before he was cut off and put on hold.

 

“Hey, I wasn't expecting a call from you today.”

 

Megumi perked at that. Gojo’s voice had completely shifted as it came out more friendly, and almost… flirty.

 

“Hm?… Is that so? No, I don’t mind at all… Haha alright, 9:30 it is then… Yeah, see you then.” Megumi could hear the smile in the man’s voice before he hung up with whoever he was talking to.

 

The tangerine in Megumi’s hands was already fully peeled at this point, but now he was mindlessly picking off the white veins from the flesh as he felt the need to occupy his hands with something. He couldn’t tell how tense his eyebrows had gotten as he stared off in front of him at nothing.

 

Gojo sighed as he went back on the line with Ijichi, concluding where he left off less explosively as he was seemingly over whatever it was they were talking about earlier, wanting to end the call as soon as possible already. After hanging up, he walked over to the table and sighed once more before plopping on the floor across from Megumi who was now separating each tangerine piece one by one. He tucked himself into the blanket of the kotatsu, reaching over and stealing a piece, popping it into his mouth.

 

 

Don’t ask... It’s none of your business… It doesn’t matter…

 

 

“Who was that?” Megumi’s eyes stayed focused on the tangerine, occasionally peeking up at Gojo through his lashes for a quick second before resuming his task of slowly separating each fruit, the ripping sound between each piece dragging on steadily.

 

“Huh? Oh, that was Ijichi.” Gojo continued to steal one more piece, biting it in half this time. Megumi gave him an unamused look. Gojo had this bad habit of saying unfunny things with full seriousness, and it always made him this close to punching him in the face.

 

Megumi continued to frown, having to form a wall with his hands to stop him from snatching more of his fruit. “Tch, I know that. I’m talking about the… The other one,” he asked a bit too awkwardly, holding back the urge to wince at himself.

 

“Hm?” he raised his eyebrows, as if he was pondering on the question a bit. Megumi had to ignore the way Gojo had his lips around the other half of the tangerine like he was sucking the pulp from inside like a straw. “Ahhh, that one,” he said as if the realization just dawned on him. Ugh. Megumi didn’t know if he acted like this on purpose just to annoy him, or if for some reason the man really was this dense sometimes. “That was my date,” he threw out casually.

 

Megumi was already halfway to reaching for a piece of fruit before he paused.

 

Date?

 

He quickly realized he didn’t want a reaction to show on his face, so he grabbed the piece of fruit he was honestly losing interest in. He just hoped Gojo wouldn’t wonder why he was just twiddling the tangerine between his fingers without actually eating it yet for this long.

 

“So when’s this date of yours?” he tried bringing up casual conversation but still feigning his natural disinterested tone, hiding the fact unease was bubbling under the surface.

 

“It’s just tomorrow.” Gojo shrugged.

 

Tomorrow? But tomorrow was Gojo and Megumi’s dat-..day off. The day out they go on every week. That’s why Gojo was here tonight to begin with, because he was gonna spend the night for tomorrow. Megumi must’ve done a poor job at hiding his expression this time as it seemed Gojo picked up on whatever look he had on. “But don’t worry,” he quickly interjected, “the date is at night, so me and you will still have time to hang out all we want,” he reached over and scratched at the top of Megumi’s head with his signature smile. “I wouldn’t leave Megumi behind on our special day.”

 

Somehow that almost sounded demeaning to him. He still felt somewhat taken aback by the news, but Gojo’s word choice of “our special” and his hand on his head was making him too warm. Two emotions were happening at once, he didn’t know how to feel. I mean, it makes sense Gojo would go on a date tomorrow, it was practically the only day off the man got every week from his packed schedule. That’s why he would spend it with Megumi to begin with, because he wouldn’t have any other day to.

 

“…So Gojo-san is looking for a girlfriend,” he muttered matter-of-factly, though he wished he hadn’t. Saying it felt odd, unpleasantly so.

 

“No! Oh God, no! Nothing like that!” Gojo stopped the ruffling. He grabbed a tangerine of his own from the bowl on the table, letting it roll up his forearm and popping it into the air with his elbow before catching it with his other hand and peeling it with gusto as Megumi brushed out his own hair. “Trust me, there’s no girlfriend or anything like that. These dates are just casual.”

 

Dates. Plural.

 

How many dates has Gojo been going on this entire time that Megumi never knew about? He thought he always knew Gojo’s schedule for every day. His stomach started to weigh uncomfortably. This wasn’t the same fluttering feeling, this one was tight and ached.

 

“Hm…” Megumi straightened up, pretending to ruminate over it casually like he wasn’t beginning to feel sick. “Going on a date with a different stranger every time and having to get to know each other all over again—frankly I don’t see the point.” He finally popped a tangerine into his mouth, but truthfully his appetite was long gone. He didn’t even want it anymore, he just felt like he needed to do something, anything. Unfortunately the acidity didn’t help the overstimulation of many new emotions going on right now, just tasting like acid to him, not finding the sweetness.

 

“Haha, yeah, maybe it seems that way for you. I definitely don’t see Megumi as the type to casually date,” Gojo was already halfway done with eating his whole tangerine, taking in two pieces at a time, meanwhile Megumi barely swallowed his first piece, chewing slowly as he was looking at nothing in particular on the table. “But I am an adult. And once a man grows up, sometimes he needs, well… A woman’s company,” he emphasized.

 

Megumi paused mid chew, eyes dragging up.

 

“You’re about that age I think. I’m sure they teach you guys this stuff in school already by now, right?” he half joked.

 

God, he wished Gojo would stop talking.

 

He just sat there staring at the rest of his tangerine in defeat after having to force himself to swallow the first piece. His appetite may have been gone, but now the taste was soiled. There’s no point in forcing himself to finish it anymore or drag this interaction any further.

 

He slid the rest of his pieces to Gojo’s side of the table. “You can have the rest. I think this one’s too sweet for my liking..” his voice came out suspiciously more subdued than just a minute ago. He stood up and smoothed out his pants. Gojo looked up at him.

 

“Megumi?”

 

He was avoiding Gojo’s gaze, scratching at the back of his elbow absentmindedly. “It’s getting late so I’m gonna take a bath now first.”

 

“Oh… Okay then.” Gojo was still looking up at his face, like he was studying it. Did he say something wrong? Was Megumi uncomfortable with the topic? Megumi nodded at Gojo whilst still avoiding eye contact before turning on his feet.

 

He might’ve lost his appetite for tangerines.

 

 

——

 

 

The next day they went out like usual; except this time Megumi packed a few things with him because he was gonna stay the night at Gojo’s place in Tokyo. Gojo had a mission nearby the day after that he wanted to bring Megumi to for a new lesson, so he told him to sleep over. It was actually going to be the first time Megumi even visited Gojo’s apartment at all. He’s visited Tokyo many times, but he’s never actually stayed the night since it’s not too far from Saitama, so he would always just go back home by the end of the day.

 

Megumi did his best to act like his typical impassive self, but Gojo could probably sense that he was still more quiet than usual, so he took the boy to a new dog café that had recently opened up, and it did actually help a lot. Megumi’s mood had perked right back up again—as much as it could for his standard, at least. Dogs seemed to have a natural liking to the boy with minimal effort, crowding him and trying to lick his face and paw at his lap. Gojo didn’t engage much with the dogs himself, satisfied enough just to watch Megumi with a smile on his face.

 

Later they went out again, got lunch, and talked about things completely unrelated to last night. Usually their days together would feel long enough, but now, possibly due to the fact Megumi had been apprehensively anticipating Gojo’s date in the back of his mind, the day felt like it went by a lot quicker. They were already back at Gojo's place and the sun had already set.

 

Megumi could hear the man rustling around in his bedroom while getting ready. He just sat there awkwardly on the couch while his eyes bore holes into the coffee table. He checked the time on his phone like it was any of his business, reading 9:17pm.

 

“Alright Megumi, I’m heading out now.” Gojo finally walked out of the room, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

 

The lucky thing about someone with already stunning visuals meant they didn’t have to do much in regard to outfits. All Gojo had to do was put on a fresh white dress shirt and a pair of black pants, and his look could already stun. The smell of his musky cologne was subtle, not overpowering, but still fresh as he just put it on, the scent of it leaving a trail out of his room. White hair, white shirt, black pants, black shoes that were waiting at the entrance, and his black coat hanging off his arm. He was sporting a fully monochrome look, but it didn’t feel as black and white as it looked with those intense blue of his eyes, even when they were hiding behind a pair of black shades.

 

Megumi stood up and wordlessly followed behind Gojo to the front where he began slipping on his shoes. Even crouching down, he was still so big. His shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as Megumi could practically see each ripple of muscle on his back, each dip and curve. It was so broad. He had an urge to lean in and press his cheek against it and just feel the warmth—feel it rise and fall with Gojo’s breathing, to lean against it because he knew it could support his entire body easily—taking in his scent, wrapping his arms around the man’s chest, closing his eyes...

 

He hadn’t realized he zoned out until Gojo straightened back up, quickly shaking those thoughts out of his head. What was he even thinking? Gojo turned towards the boy with an expectant smile, ready to start his night.

 

“You look good.” Megumi said as casually and as uninterested as he could. That made Gojo’s smile reach his eyes and ruffle Megumi’s hair again—a habit he did that Megumi wasn’t a fan of, especially if it was someone else doing it—but if it was Gojo then he’d let it slide. Sometimes… Oftentimes.

 

“Thanks, Megumi~” if it were anyone else complimenting him, Gojo might’ve replied with an of course, or anything else with little to no modesty. But Megumi is not the type to give out compliments so openly, even if it were sarcastic or unserious. And there’s something about Gojo when he’s around the boy that makes him put his walls down. He doesn’t have to pretend all the time, and he doesn’t always have to joke around.

 

Megumi leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, watching Gojo unlock the front door. “I just hope your date doesn’t get weirded out about some guy wearing sunglasses at night.” Gojo laughed at that, turning over his shoulder and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose.

 

“They never are,” he winked before heading out. “Text me if you need anything, ‘kay!”

 

“Yeah..” and then the door clicked shut and locked.

 

Megumi turned back on his feet, making it back to the couch on the same spot. He sat in silence before sighing shamefully, rubbing his hand on his face like it’d erase the blush that’s been creeping there since Gojo winked at him.

 

Megumi had to remind himself that Gojo was literally on his way to a date with someone else; and never mind the fact that he’s barely even 15 yet. He’s still so young, and Gojo was pushing 30 himself.

 

So why? Why is he doing this himself? Why is his stupid body and mind attaching itself to someone unobtainable… Gojo is supposed to be like a father figure, right? He fits the criteria for it: He’s so much older, looks after Megumi, teaches him new things, and makes sure he’s cared for. And if you wanna get a little funny with it, he isn’t always there. So why does Megumi feel anything but familial feelings towards him? Are the wires in his mind somehow switched? He doesn’t understand why he’s feeling possessive over this man, and still he knows he can’t tell him what to do. Not specifically because he can’t (which he still can’t), but because he doesn’t want to.

 

Gojo is right, he is an adult, and Megumi isn’t. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be an adult, to live as long as Gojo has so far. He can’t even fathom being Gojo in general. He’s literally the strongest sorcerer in the world, he can never catch a break. So if every once in a while he wants to blow off some steam and hang out with someone his own age outside of work that can actually connect with him, then what makes Megumi feel like he deserves to be upset about it? He’s only setting himself up for disappointment, expectating something that doesn’t, can’t exist in the first place.

 

This isn’t good. Growing up Megumi has subconsciously developed a defense mechanism personality against getting too close to people before he loses them, but these thoughts and feelings right now are becoming less like him. He starts rubbing at the bridge of his nose, losing the energy to continue dwelling on this. Right now, he just wants to forget about everything. He needs to disconnect, so he grabs a book right after changing into something comfortable, making his way back to the couch and starts reading.

 

Some time has passed, and his eyelids begin to feel heavy. It was a little challenging to read—his occupied mind finding it hard to absorb the words on the pages—but nonetheless he still made it halfway through the fourth chapter. He checks to see how long it’s been and finds it’s half past eleven. He hates how embarrassing that looks, cause he really could’ve read quicker if he didn’t have to reread multiple sentences up to three times because his mind wanted to be distracted with something else. Just as he was looking at his phone screen, a notification popped up that had his heart jump. It was a text from Gojo.

 

 

<[ I’ll be out late so don’t stay up ]

<[ U can eat whatever u want if u get hungry ]

<[ ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎ ]

 

Eugh.

 

Megumi doesn’t reply, finding that the ‘read’ tag is enough of one. He closes his book and sets it on the table, not even bothering to put in a bookmark.

 

His eyes scan over the apartment again. It’s modern, clean, and quite lavish. There aren't many decorations, so it has a very minimalistic look, but that was probably less of a stylistic choice and more mostly due to the fact that Gojo never spends much time at his own place anyway. The apartment’s also high enough that it has a great panoramic view of the city outside. And just as lavish as the view is, he also couldn’t hear the traffic outside, which is nice in most cases, but right now it just adds to the isolation he’s feeling at this moment, a disconnect. His body starts getting chilly, but whether it’s from the fact it’s actually cold inside or it’s that anxious feeling he’s been suffocating at the back of his mind, it doesn’t really matter either way.

 

He puts his hands together and summons his divine dogs. Both of them, because he could really use the company of two. He decides he should call it a night and head to bed, so that’s what he’s doing now after turning off most of the lights. When he makes it to the door of Gojo’s room, his eyes can’t help scanning around that too. He heard Gojo making a bit of a ruckus here earlier, but he really knows how to keep his place clean and put things back. You wouldn’t even be able to tell Gojo was in here if it weren’t for the slightly lingering scent of his cologne still in the air.

 

Gojo’s bed looked fairly big, even for a big guy like him... Would his date have spent the night here if Gojo hadn’t invited Megumi over? He’s definitely being a burden tonight, maybe Gojo shouldn’t have asked him to sleep over after all. He would’ve been perfectly capable of taking a train early in the morning.

 

He groans and brings his hand up to his forehead as if to physically wipe away the thoughts. One of the dogs nudges its head under his other hand, leaning into his side and looking up. Megumi smiled down at it softly, scratching at its ear.

 

“Come on,” voice soft.

 

He skips past Gojo’s room to the other end of the hallway where the guest bedroom was. As expected, the size of the bed is much smaller, but it doesn’t matter since he’s the only one that’ll be sleeping in it. He closes the door behind him, leaving him in the darkness. It always comes off as unusual to most people at how Megumi didn’t have much trouble at all navigating around in the dark. He makes it to the bed easily, laying belly down on top of the comforter. He could smell the unfamiliar scent of fading detergent from who knows how long ago these sheets were last washed. He was a little cold, but he didn’t even feel like pulling at the comforter that was tucked in tight, most likely from a cleaning service. Exhaustion currently outweighed any other feeling. He just wanted to doze off.

 

The divine dogs jumped up with him, curling around his body. One dog was big enough as is, so two was a tight fit. But Megumi rather enjoys it, the feeling of both of them on either side of him. They may come from his shadow, but they still had warmth. He closes his eyes and falls asleep just like that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Megumi…”

 

He definitely didn’t think he slept long enough before he was already being woken up. Was it time for the mission already? There was a hand on his shoulder that was barely nudging him.

 

“Megumi,”

 

Megumi groaned, having no energy to speak, let alone open his eyes.

 

“Why are you sleeping here?” the voice whisper-spoke.

 

He finally peaked his heavy eyelids open where he could see Gojo’s silhouette kneeling next to the bed. He was wearing different clothes now, probably pajamas. Megumi noticed the space around him felt colder and less cramped, realizing the divine dog technique had been let go in his sleep. He groaned one more time, sluggishly turning his head away from Gojo. He just wanted to go back to sleep, hoping the other would get the message.

 

“Come on, get up,” Gojo wasn't relenting, helping Megumi sit up in bed, watching the boy rub at his eyes. As much as he didn’t have the energy to get up, he also didn’t have the energy to fight back, so he just let the man move him however he wanted.

 

He squinted at the clock on the nightstand seeing it was already 3 in the morning. Gojo had his hand on Megumi's back as he helped him stand, leading him out of the guest room and into his bedroom where he helped him get under the covers this time. Megumi settled in comfortably on his side, hearing Gojo shuffling in under the blankets behind him. He subconsciously pressed his nose against the pillow, taking in Gojo’s familiar scent on the sheets. It was silent and relaxing, and now he was warmer than before, now feeling like he could easily fall back asleep quickly.

 

“Why didn’t you text me?” Gojo’s voice cut through the silence.

 

“hm?” he was still barely awake but Gojo seems adamant on not just letting him drift off.

 

“I told you to text me but you didn’t message me or even reply to my texts.”

 

“I didn’t need to,” he croaked out.

 

“Still, I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

 

“I said,” he pressed with more clarity, “I didn’t need to. I was just here all night, there’s nothing to worry about,” he shifted his body further into the mattress away from the man, “besides, you were on your date. You didn’t need me bothering you.” Part of him hopes Gojo didn’t really pick up on that last part, but he wouldn’t count on it.

 

It fell silent again, so Megumi assumed Gojo finally let up. His body slacked against the mattress, breathing slowing down again as he tried to get back to sleep—until he felt two firm arms wrap around his torso and his eyes shot open.

 

“What are you–!”

 

“I like to hug something while I sleep. You know that, right?” he slid Megumi closer to his side of the bed, having the boys back pressed against his front with his chin resting on Megumi’s neck. Megumi was stunned, his whole body feeling like it was pulsing. This was the first time Gojo held him in bed while he knew he was awake, and this time they felt physically closer than they’ve ever been. Gojo was properly spooning him right now. And from the way Gojo worded it, it seems like he'd been aware Megumi was awake all those times in the past as well. He almost got dizzy from all the blood rushing to heat his face.

 

“Tch.. I’m not soft or small like a girl so there’s no point, it’ll just feel uncomfortable.” Megumi grabbed Gojo’s wrists and tried unlocking them from around his body, but there was no real strength put into it. Gojo chuckled at his poor attempts to push him away and Megumi could feel the vibrations through the back of his own rib cage, hoping he won’t have to turn around to face the man with red cheeks.

 

“Megumi doesn’t need to be a girl for me to hold. You’re fine just the way you are.” Megumi felt the arms around him tighten as if to emphasize his point, feeling Gojo’s warm breath brush over his neck, threatening goosebumps to rise that Megumi prays Gojo won’t see or feel.

 

Hearing what Gojo said caused him to deflate both physically and in spirit. He hadn’t said anything wrong or offensive, but Megumi was still upset, like he couldn’t fully believe those words, especially not now knowing those same arms were most likely holding someone else the same way only a few hours ago. That means he had fooled himself thinking this was a moment between just them—but for Gojo, this was just something he does. His lips pressed together in a frown, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his face further into the pillow.

 

“Please don’t keep messing with me all the time…” He muffled.

 

Gojo opened his eyes at that, looking at the kid that looked like he was trying to erase himself, his voice, into a pillow.

 

“Megumi,” he spoke like he needed the boy to listen to him, and Megumi was dreading knowing where this was going. “What's been troubling you all day?” Megumi didn’t reply, keeping his face buried. “Are you upset that I went on a date tonight or something?”

 

“….no..” That was half a lie.

 

“Then why do you always sound bothered when you bring it up? You’ve been acting differently since yesterday after I got that call.” His tone was nonjudgemental, like he was trying to ease Megumi out of his shell rather than drag him out. He wasn’t trying to scare the boy.

 

“I haven’t…”

 

“You have,” Gojo sighed. He didn’t wanna push past any of Megumi’s boundaries. “Tell me, what’s on your mind?” he lowered his tone further, placing his chin back against Megumi’s neck for comfort.

 

Megumi bit his lip between his teeth. He wanted to keep denying it, he didn’t wanna address anything. But he was cornered, and he knew Gojo could see past any lie, no matter how convincing he believed he sounded, even though he knew he wasn’t at all.

 

“It’s... It’s not something you need to worry about. It’s not like it’s something you can do, Gojo-san,” not this time he thought to himself. Gojo always had an answer for everything, always found a solution for every problem. Megumi was convinced Gojo could solve anything, not outwardly wanting to admit how dependent he’s even gotten on him. But this time, even if Gojo had an answer for this, even if he had one simple word that could solve this all, he knew he didn’t wanna hear it because it’ll just be a truth he doesn’t wanna face yet. ”If I told you or not, it wouldn’t change a thing. So please, I’d like to just go back to sleep now. And you should too.”

 

Gojo didn’t fully understand what was going on in Megumi’s head. He was wondering if Megumi was feeling lonely, left out maybe. It made sense if Megumi was feeling rubbed the wrong way the same way he would when a boy tried talking to Tsumiki. He figured that Megumi was still currently a growing teen, and there were gonna be many things he was gonna feel or experience for the first time that’ll be confusing and frustrating, especially when it feels like people are getting between his only family. That much he understands, so if Megumi felt like he wasn’t ready to talk about it, Gojo wouldn’t push. Still, he didn’t want Megumi to see him as someone that still wouldn’t do what he could to help, someone he couldn’t come to so he didn’t have to bottle things up.

 

“Just so you know,” he snuggled closer more comfortably. “You’re never a bother to me. Megumi is someone special.”

 

Megumi’s eyes fluttered open. Gojo used that word again that felt out of place.

 

 

Special

 

 

——

 

 

It’s been a few days since that day, and Megumi was currently outside training by himself with his divine dogs. He needed a minute to quickly catch his breath, so he found a shady spot under a tree to plop under. His dogs followed behind him protectively, resting on either side of him. Megumi wiped at his sweaty forehead, the rigorous training heating him up as if it were summer despite winter approaching. But of course curses don’t just retire during the cold months, so it’s ideal for him to train out in every season.

 

He couldn’t stop pondering all this time on why Gojo kept using the word special on him. What was he referring to?

 

Megumi tried to think of something that stood out about him, but always came up short. It wasn’t until he looked at his shikigami and remembered he had something no one else had. He inherited the Ten Shadows technique. So is that what Gojo was talking about?

 

He remembers a while ago talking with Gojo when the man brought up a story about how a Zen’in member with the Ten Shadows and a Gojo member with Six Eyes and Limitless had fought and killed each other in the past. Megumi didn’t know killing a Six Eyes/Limitless user was even a possibility for anyone, yet when he told Megumi the story, it seemed like he was hinting at something that the boy couldn’t quite figure out at that moment.

 

Become strong. Don’t get left behind.

 

That was something Gojo said to him the first time they met. Megumi was still a kid and unaware of anything jujutsu related, so frankly he was a bit annoyed and perplexed why this strange guy came up to him with these random demands. Why should he care about what some guy has to say about his strength?

 

It wasn’t until learning about their clans' histories, techniques, and the rules of actually being a sorcerer that Megumi thought he finally understood his implication in those words. Gojo went on a lot about wanting to change the jujutsu world, but it wasn’t going to be easy, even though Megumi didn’t know how that was possible because he saw Gojo as someone strong enough to do whatever he wanted. But even by himself as the strongest, Gojo needed allies to depend on, to see things the way he did and actually make a movement to shift the sorcerer world for the future ahead. So this must mean Gojo sees Megumi as an ally strong enough to help him by his side. Megumi was his ace card.

 

If someone as strong as Gojo saw Megumi as a person worthy enough to stand by him in equal strength, then Megumi had to work hard to catch up. He couldn’t get left behind, and he still needed to get strong enough to figure out how to save Tsumiki. He didn’t expect to improve drastically overnight, he was aware this was gonna take a lot of time, hard work and effort, but those were all things he was willing to put in.

 

A new motivation was sparked in him, a goal only he could do. Not that Megumi was selfish or saw others as weak, definitely not. But if Gojo saw something special in him that only he could help the man with, he needed to prove himself, because this seemed like something no one else could replace.

 

 

——

 

 

It was December 24, 2017 which landed on a Sunday—two days after Megumi’s birthday, and currently Christmas Eve. Today was the only day of the week that Gojo could have time to visit him and celebrate a belated birthday and an early Christmas. They planned today weeks ahead of time to celebrate both of their birthdays together with cake and food from their favorite restaurants.

 

But Megumi was sitting on his couch counting each ticking sound coming off of the wall clock.

 

Gojo wasn’t able to make it today. To say Megumi wasn’t disappointed would be a lie, but he wasn’t gonna hold it against him. He heard beforehand that something really big was gonna happen today, and every jujutsu sorcerer had to be present. Megumi wanted to join and help in any way that he could, but Gojo made sure to hammer into the boys head to not leave the house. Stay inside and lock every window. And since Megumi wasn’t part of the technical college yet, he wasn’t allowed to help. Alright, he understands that. But now even if he wanted to do something else on his own today, like pick up some food or do some training, he couldn’t.

 

Still, he couldn’t help the little bit of anxiety that’s been stewing in him, along with the lack of text from Gojo all day. He wanted to make sure that he was safe, but he couldn’t risk messaging him if he was in the middle of something right now. So he waited for Gojo to text him first.

 

He waited, and waited, and waited—until eventually he called it a night. It was late now and still he didn’t hear any news from anyone about anything. He didn’t know what was going on out there, he didn’t know how long it would last. He only knew that whatever was happening seemed to be big and dangerous if they needed all sorcerers, with Gojo urging him to stay inside.

 

He fully knows Gojo is the strongest, but Gojo is still human after all, and Megumi couldn’t confidently say nothing could happen to him. But he tried telling himself that Gojo was just busy, because if anything did happen to him then the world would’ve ended by now. Fortunately Megumi’s city seemed to be safe thus far. There were no noises, shakes or rumbles, but he still wasn’t going to disobey Gojo by dropping by a convenience store.

 

He decided to get up off the couch, knees popping as a reminder for how long he sat there and counted every minute. There was nothing else for him to do besides sit there and read a book, but worrying himself wasn’t gonna solve anything.

 

As he was brushing his teeth, he was thinking about how much busier Gojo had been ever since he heard that he gained a new student a couple of months ago—so busy with the student and dealing with higher ups that the man texted him less often than usual. And even busier this week that even on the day of Megumi’s birthday he didn’t get a “happy birthday” message, only receiving one from Maki with regards from the other first years. Well, with how important he heard today was gonna be, it’s no doubt Gojo most likely was assigned at the forefront of most responsibilities, on top of his already grueling schedule.

 

And Megumi could finally say he wasn’t as alone as he was before. He met Gojo’s first year students a few times, already having been acquainted with his relative Maki long before. In fact, he did meet Yuta about twice already. Yuta seems meek, and he’s watched him stumble when he saw the first years training together outside on the field while he was touring the building. But Gojo had mentioned to him the huge potential Yuta had in CT and CE, and with how sweet Yuta appears to be and how he treats everyone, Megumi doesn’t wanna admit how the praise stung his own ego just a bit. He knows how passionate Gojo can be about allies and sorcerers with great techniques, and he only knew Yuta for a couple of months but he could see that spark in Gojo when he talks about him. But still, Yuta’s potential wasn’t Ten Shadows level, so Megumi should still feel secure in his position by Gojo’s side. (right?)

 

When Megumi does visit the school he doesn’t stay long as Gojo is just showing him around and familiarizing him with the rules and navigating around, so he doesn’t get much of a chance to get to know everyone too closely, but when he becomes a student next year, at least there’ll be people he’s familiar with that aren't just Gojo. By then there will be plenty of time to properly sit and talk with his senpai’s.

 

He spread his futon out, getting situated in and staring at the ceiling. He only met three first years, and now there was a fourth. It was so few people for a class at a school, but sorcerers weren’t common, so it really wasn’t surprising. Next year he’s gonna be one of Gojo’s students too… He wondered how many peers he was gonna have as he fell asleep, but on the forefront of his mind, he prayed for the safety of everyone today.

 

 

 

 

 

When Megumi opened his eyes, the sun was barely peaking through the horizon and the birds chirped serenely. It looks like he managed to sleep until morning just fine and there were still no noises going on outside, which was a good sign. But what really roused him from sleep was the sound of the front door and the slow footsteps that followed. He immediately sat up straight and faced the door to his room when he saw him. Gojo stood there, as tall as the door frame itself, but there was something unsettling about his energy.

 

His hair looked slightly disheveled, and he was still wearing his uniform which wasn’t in bad shape. One hand was holding the untangled wraps he uses to cover his eyes, and the other one held…a cupcake, with an unlit candle in the center of it.

 

Gojo stepped towards him wordlessly with soft steps, crouching down on one knee to Megumi’s level. He held the cupcake in front of the boy with a smile that looked too unhappy, and he could see that those blue eyes that had as much vitality as a waterfall currently lacked any kind of shine. Physically he didn’t look tired or out of shape, but Megumi knew.

 

“happy birthday, megumi,” he whispered.

 

He was at a loss for words.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you…” His eyes drifted down, like his pupils were sinking.

 

“Gojo-san..?”

 

“I had a lot of things I had to deal with for a while, and, um…”

 

Megumi took the cupcake from his hand and caught Gojo with the other when he dropped his head on the boys shoulder. Megumi would’ve thought he was crying, but he didn’t make a sound, and his breathing stayed even. But it was clear to see something in him was broken, so he held him, because that’s all he could do, and hoped it was enough, even if just a little.

 

Megumi let him stay like that; let Gojo sleep with his head on his lap for as long as he needed. God knows he needed it.

 

With the lightest touch he could manage, he stroked the colorless white locks from his forehead, watching the way Gojo was getting the most genuine rest he’s probably gotten in a while—which unfortunately—wasn’t much.

 

 

——

 

 

“Megumi~ where do you want me to put this one?”

 

“You can just put that on the desk over there.”

 

“Righto~”

 

Megumi placed the box he was holding down onto his bed with a huff, wiping his forehead before taking a seat next to it to rest his arms and legs.

 

“Well, that’s the last of ‘em.” As expected of Gojo Satoru, he looked like he wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

 

Megumi had been packing and moving things from his apartment into his new dorm room for a while now, but halfway through Gojo showed up and insisted on helping. Megumi had been adamantly denying his help, arguing that he could do it on his own, because he really only had a couple of boxes left. But admittedly with Gojo’s help it was a lot quicker, and they finally made it to the last batch. It was extra thanks to the fact Gojo was able to carry two boxes at a time whereas Megumi could only manage one.

 

Gojo leaned his weight on the old faux mahogany desk, smiling back at his visibly tired ward. Even if his eyes were covered, you could still feel if they were on you. That’s just the kind of power his eyes hold.

 

“What?” Megumi asked when Gojo was looking for too long.

 

His fingers tapped a mindless tune against the wood. “Just two more days, huh? And then you’ll officially be my student.”

 

“Yeah…” He sighed before drifting his eyes to the side.

 

“What’s with that reaction? Aren’t you looking forward to being the student of GOJO SATORU, the strongest sorcerer alive!?”

 

“It’s not that,” Gojo seemed to be back to his exuberant self again, which Megumi was grateful for, even if his shouting got on his nerves. It wasn’t long before his gaze drifted timidly to the side again. “It’s just… Thank you… For helping me with the boxes.” Gojo beamed at that. “…even though I said you didn’t have to.” He meekly added at the end. He’s sure Gojo has more important things to do with his time than to move boxes for him.

 

“I said it was fine, didn’t I?” He brushed off lightheartedly, navigated his way around the boxes on the floor, making it to the door. As expected, it looked like he already needed to be someplace else by now. He turned back towards the boy, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. “Is there anything else you need help with?”

 

“No, thank you, you’ve done enough, I can handle the rest on my own. I’m sure you’re very busy today as well." He knew Gojo was only asking just for the sake of generosity.

 

“Mm, well, yeah,” his finger tapped on his inner elbow. The world can’t spin without Gojo Satoru. “Just take your time getting situated, you don’t need to be in a hurry just to unpack. Gotta make sure you save that energy for the more important tasks coming up.” He stepped out of the room, reaching for the door handle.

 

“Oh and get this~ Looks like right now you’re only gonna have one other classmate with you this year! But she’s from far up in the countryside so she won’t be here for a few more weeks.”

 

Megumi knew he was gonna have very few classmates at the school, but seriously, only one other person?

 

“Then that means…”

 

“Yep! It’s just gonna be me and Megumi for a while, so look forward to it!”

 

The door to his room was shut with gusto, and now he was officially by himself.

 

Look forward to it, he says. Hmph… He hates that he actually is, though. At least more so now than he was before. Just him and Gojo alone, huh? He wonders how that would work out in a classroom since the man has already taught him everything he currently knows now. Enough to go on missions by himself right off the bat since he’s been ranked a Grade 2 sorcerer and has already been familiarized with staff and how to report missions.

 

But with Megumi being too hard on himself, that still didn’t mean much of anything. Earlier before Gojo showed up to help, Megumi took a break outside where he ran into the previous first years. Unfortunately Yuta wasn’t there, having been transferred abroad to learn with another sorcerer for a while, but the others clued him in on what happened on that day in December.

 

Megumi had assumed that the events that day were big; and big it was. A group of sorcerers who wanted to create a world of only sorcerers had made war against Jujutsu Tech, ironically enough. The group had fought and killed many sorcerers alongside a thousand or some curses. But the odd part was that the leader of this cult wasn’t at the two locations the battles were being held at. From what they told him, he used the fight in the two cities as a diversion to go after Yuta at the school.

 

But why Yuta? Well, already being a special grade right as he entered the school, Yuta went up against another special grade cursed spirit manipulation sorcerer and won because apparently he was after Yuta’s shikigami, Rika. Yes, Yuta can also summon a shikigami strong enough to be titled the queen of curses. It makes Megumi’s shikigami look like decorations in comparison.

 

Just the word makes Megumi’s insides sour. He loves and respects his shikigami, he hates people even thinking they’re pets. They’re loyal, strong, and he cares about their wellbeing more than his own… But compared to Yuta’s shikigami, he just…

 

And no, it didn’t end there. Apparently he’s even a distant relative of Gojo, which perfectly explains such an incredible feat, along with his technique and CE.

 

Yuta had come out of the fight unharmed, and even stronger than before. And fortunately the other first years survived as well thanks to Yuta for not only saving them, but healing them with reverse cursed technique.

 

All of that and he was only a first year with no other prior experience, only learning jujutsu for a couple months, where Megumi had been learning from Gojo for almost a decade.

 

Megumi’s hand reached up, clutching at his shirt where he could feel a flicker in that passion that was in his heart.

 

Yeah, Megumi had… a long way to go.

 

 

——

 

 

“Knock knock~”

 

Oh no. Oh no oh no.

 

The last thing Megumi needed right now was for Gojo to see him like this, on a bed in the infirmary. The first two missions he went on had him leaving with only a bruise or two, but this third one got a good hit in. It wasn’t anything major, but he did get battered enough to warrant care and rest in the infirmary.

 

Ieri-san had stepped out for a moment, so Megumi was the only one in the room. He heard the sound of Gojo making his way to the white curtain that hid nothing from the man’s six eyes, but covered Megumi’s bed with the only semblance of privacy he felt. Each closer step only worsened the shame rising up in the boy, which didn’t take many steps to achieve courtesy of Gojo’s long strides.

 

“Yoohoo, Megumi~” an arm poked in to drape the curtain aside. “Oh, so you are awake huh?”

 

Megumi’s temperature spiked. “Gojo-sensei…”

 

There really wasn’t anything else for him to say.

 

The same casual smile Gojo gave his way only confused the mood Megumi was trying to read. Was he about to mock him for being so weak? Was Gojo disappointed? Embarrassed? He should be, it was only his students third mission and he was already bed bound.

 

Gojo finally moved to sit on the guest chair beside the bed, leaning forward with his forearms to his knees and his hands together. He just stared at Megumi in silence, worsening the embarrassment Megumi didn’t deserve to ignore. He was trying to just brush off those eyes until it went on for longer than necessary.

 

“What are-“

 

“You know you’re scowling.” Gojo cut him off with that damned smile.

 

Megumi flinched off guard, lowering his head and fixing his gaze on the IV on the back of his hand. He clenched tighter at the sheets.

 

“…I’m not scowling.” He muttered.

 

Gojo’s smile widened further. He finally leaned back into the chair, crossing his legs and arms and giving Megumi some space. The room went silent again, but at least this time Megumi had space to breathe.

 

“Why are you even here?” he spoke up, because he can’t handle this awkward silence, like Gojo is making fun of him or something. Was he trying to make him feel bad for disappointing him? Maybe he deserved it, but this felt less like a lesson and more like a humiliation ritual.

 

“Hm? Doesn’t it make me a good teacher to come check up on my student?”

 

Megumi had to swallow down the shame, still avoiding eye contact.

 

“There’s no need to, I’m fine… I’ll be able to go back to my room soon, so you’re just wasting your time.”

 

Silence. Silence that went on a bit too long, causing Megumi to finally peek to his side. Gojo wasn’t smiling anymore, but he was still eyeing him.

 

“You know, you wouldn’t look like the type, but you’re actually really competitive, Megumi.” The pink rushed to Megumi’s cheeks. “I know why you’re upset,” Gojo uncrossed his freakishly long limbs and leaned forward again, but not as invasive as earlier. “You can't accept getting injured after you only just started going on missions on your own, right?”

 

He stifles the jump in his lungs. He hates how much of an open book he feels like in front of Gojo. Was it from the years spent being around each other, or was Megumi really this embarrassingly easy to read? Ugh.

 

“That’s fine though. That unsatisfied feeling is what’s going to drive you to become better,” he stood up from the chair then, leaning forward to get on a closer level with Megumi who all but gulped. “No one said being a sorcerer was going to be a walk in the park. That’s something you already know, and something I prepared you for.”

 

But how many missions has it been since Megumi has last seen any of the second years return all banged up? It was embarrassing. The most Inumaki got after a mission was a sore throat. Megumi couldn’t imagine Maki getting injured more than just a bruise or scratch, and even if she’d gotten worse than that she was always tough enough to walk it off and pretend it was nothing. Even Yuta who could barely walk straight during training came out unharmed fighting against another special grade sorcerer after only a few months in the school.

 

They were all taught by Gojo the same way Megumi had been, but Megumi had the advantage of being trained for years before them. And yet here he is, bandaged and bleeding and all he had to do was fight another grade 2 curse. But this curse was surprisingly cunning for its grade and caught Megumi off guard. Megumi tried his hardest to regain control and composure, which he obviously did eventually, but he was already thrown around enough to do some damage by the end of it. And now here he was, wrapped up and IV’d in the infirmary and on hold from taking on any missions until he’s recovered while everyone else is still going about theirs. And it’s even worse knowing that most of the people knew Megumi grew up being trained by Gojo personally. This isn’t only embarrassing for Megumi, but for Gojo as well. He’s making a fool of the man and his efforts.

 

“Megumi,”

 

The boy jumped, Gojo’s steady voice slicing through the ramble in his mind, and suddenly it was back to silence. He realized he was clenching the sheets far too tight when the needle on the back of his hand started to ache, and he let go.

 

Gojo sighed after a beat of silence, scratching at the back of his head.

 

“I knew you would’ve gotten injured after this mission. Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t be, but I knew it would happen.”

 

“…Huh?” he made straight eye contact now, expression dropping.

 

Megumi’s stomach panged, like that drop you get from a plane, and his hands started to vibrate. He knew it, he knew he was failing Gojo, he was putting him and his teaching to shame. Is he saying he’s not good enough to go on solo missions anymore? Is he admitting to knowing Megumi wasn’t good enough after all?

 

“Actually let me rephrase that,” Gojo straightened up and looked down at Megumi, all broad shoulders and the confidence of a master to their disciple. He looks serious this time, but not harsh. “I gave you this mission because I knew it was harder. I wouldn’t even have given it to someone like Toge because from what I read from the report, this curse sounded smart and sneaky. It actually had a grasp on how to come up with plans.”

 

Megumi didn’t know what to think at the moment.

 

The bed creaked and dipped when Gojo took a seat across from him.

 

“This curse was closer to a grade 1 than it was to a grade 2. Do you get it?”

 

“Then… Why would you give me a mission you knew would’ve been harder on me instead of just assigning a grade 1 sorcerer?” Megumi had his fist against Gojo’s shoulder in a weak attempt at shoving him. “What if I died?” Because I wasn’t good enough.

 

“You wouldn’t have,” He said matter-of-factly. He still had that serious look on his face, Megumi’s shove not even jostling his solid body. “I gave you that mission because I knew you could handle it. Were you gonna get injured? Yeah, many sorcerers do. But I knew you were the one I could trust with it. No grade 2 sorcerer would’ve died from this, especially not you. But they probably would’ve gotten injured worse than you have. It’s because you’re so bright, Megumi, that I knew you would solve it much quicker. You might think you’re falling behind from everyone else after just getting here, but what happened was I gave you a mission I would’ve let a grade 2 third year student solve.”

 

Megumi was a bit stunned to say the least. He wasn’t expecting such a long confession, and honestly he didn’t know if it made him feel that much better. He was trying to process it, process how to react or what to say, but Gojo beat him to it, resting his hand on Megumi’s shoulder. He rubbed the boys shoulder, halfway down to his elbow and up again. This was an action he could get away with only because they were alone. That tight feeling in Megumi’s stomach was back, because right now he’s seeing that side of Gojo that only he’s seen again. The more genuine side of him he never sees the man act in public.

 

“I’m sorry you’re hurt, Megumi. I would take it away if I could, but that’s just the price of any sorcerer that you need to get used to. But what you proved to me is that I was right in my assumption. Of course after all these years of training you I would know what you can and can’t handle.”

 

Megumi knows there isn’t exactly anything he can say right now, so he just soaks in every genuine sound from Gojo, looking at those eyes covered by his black blindfold that he knows are looking back at him just as genuinely.

 

Gojo squeezes Megumi’s bicep. “Could use a bit more bulk training though, whadya think? Then it’s one less bloody nose to worry about next time.”

 

Megumi flicks his arm away from Gojo’s grasp, clicking his tongue with that signature annoyed expression back on his face. He huffs and Gojo stands back up with a good chuckle.

 

“Just assign me missions accordingly and I won’t have to worry about a bloody nose every time then.” That was only half of a truth. He didn’t wanna give the impression that he should be underestimated. But knowing Gojo, he wasn’t gonna go easy on him any time soon anyway even if Megumi asked.

 

Just as Gojo was about to head back out he turned back towards Megumi one last time. “Haha, don’t worry Megumi, from now on I'll mostly just give you missions you’ll be able to breeze through. I’ve already got one in mind that’ll be a piece of cake, give your nose a break for a bit.”

 

 

——

 

 

When Gojo told him he would give him missions he could handle, being in front of Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t what Megumi had in mind.

 

He was dizzy from bleeding through multiple scrapes on his head from being thrown against a wall, smashed through concrete, hurled down onto the hard floor amidst the rubble, and the adrenaline pumping through him from head to toe as he’s face to face with the incarnation of all evil.

 

Piece of cake, yeah right.

 

He was dizzy. He was so dizzy but he had to think fast as the face of hell was looking out onto the world yelling about who he was going to target first.

 

He shot down on one knee.

 

And even though he settled on this decision in that quick moment, he briefly thought this couldn’t be all his life’s lead to. This couldn’t be how it ends… But he had no choice. His hands were shaped in fists in front of him, assuming the position of summoning his most deadly shikigami while he could still hold onto his consciousness. Well, could it even be called his shikigami if taming it were near impossible, considering it would kill Megumi himself after summoning? But this was his only choice against the king of curses, the only thing he could do to save humanity, at the cost of his own life and hopefully Sukuna’s along with it. Megumi had prepared himself for years that summoning this shikigami was a possibility, and he wasn’t afraid to die if he really needed to do it. This was his secret ace card, his guarantee for victory in a dire moment.

 

But at the end of the day, Megumi was just a boy after all. His mind was ready for the sacrifice, but his human heart was crying for help.

 

Except this time there was no help. He was assigned this mission by himself, a mission so simple he didn’t even have an assistant manager with him, because all he had to do was retrieve the Sukuna finger and head back.

 

There was absolutely no one in the radius of this entire city alone, possibly the entire country, that could go toe to toe with Ryomen Sukuna besides Gojo. Megumi didn’t even know if this shikigami was able to do it, he had no clue what Sukuna’s power level was at this moment—how strong he was, how much of his strength he had at the moment of his return, or if he had any counter techniques that made Mahoraga seem like a minor inconvenience.

 

Stop, stop it. Megumi isn’t so weak and powerless that he’d expect to be saved when times got tough. He was prepared for this life, he knew his missions were his responsibilities as a sorcerer, he was brought up to take on and deal with whatever circumstance he was up against. He would never bail on a mission or pass it to somebody else. To die for this meant he did his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer, that he kept people safe, that no one undeserving had to die. This much he could do, and he knew Gojo would be on his side. This is the life he agreed to at six years old because he had nothing to lose.

 

His fists clenched tighter to hide the tremor in them.

 

“Under Jujutsu regulations, Itadori Yuji, I will exorcise you as a curse!”

 

Warm blood continued to leak down his forehead, threatening to drip into one of his eyes. His shadows began swirling under his feet, and he could feel the bone chilling aura of this shikigami before summoning it, the impending doom weighing on him, the dread and fear it elicited up his spine.

 

But this boy, Itadori, started to talk to him normally, and damn it! He can’t tell if this is actually him or it’s Sukuna trying to trick him. Just what the hell is going on with this guy!? A human body shouldn’t even be able to be in one piece after taking in Sukuna’s finger, but his soul was still intact as well? He can’t let his guard down, no matter what. Even if his morality wants to yell at him for the fact he has to kill a good person that never should have been thrown into this mess in the first place. This boy had a choice in this life, Megumi didn’t, he shouldn’t have been tied to this side of the world and die for something he should have never been associated with.

 

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

 

 

“What’s the situation?”

 

It was like a bucket of water was poured over his flames, the immediate dissipation of cursed energy at his feet evaporating the moment he heard the voice that almost brought tears to his eyes. He quickly shot his attention to the man standing right behind him, and it was then that he realized he’d never felt yearning of this degree. The prayer in his heart, for the first time ever, was heard.

 

Deep down, threatening to spill out of every pore, his young heart was crying out for the only pillar in his life as he was preparing his goodbyes.

 

“Gojo-sensei-!”

 

And he made it. He was here. He was actually here, and Megumi would’ve thought it was his life flashing if it wasn't for that unmistakable cursed energy that blanketed him like a protective shadow.

 

Megumi promised not to rely on others. He promised not to get comforted by anothers presence. He worked out how to not depend on anyone. He promised not to get attached anymore to someone that could walk out on him yet again.

 

But Gojo Satoru, naturally, was always the exception.

 

 

——

 

 

“Wow, Kugisaki, you don’t eat the pizza crust!?”

 

“Itadori,” She sighed. “There are certain things a girl has to do to protect her figure.” Duh, is how she sounded.

 

“But that’s, like, one of the best parts! Especially when the crust is seasoned and then you’re left with a soft fluffy breadstick to dip into sauce.”

 

“Well if it's so great then you can have it.”

 

Megumi watched Yuji reach over and grab Nobara’s pizza crust from her side in such a don’t mind if I do manner.

 

Megumi was… Once again sitting in bed in recovery.

 

The first day of the Goodwill event was over, and it couldn't have gone worse.

 

Before the event had even officially started, there was already bad blood between a few of the Tokyo and Kyoto students, and when the rest of the Kyoto students arrived they didn’t even make up for Todo and Mai’s behavior because they were just as insufferable (excluding Miwa).

 

Then later Yuji popped up out of no where, literally, from a box and nearly gave a mourning Nobara and Megumi a heart attack. Oh yeah, and right after that happened the Kyoto students all decided it was their duty to execute Yuji on sight, so the entire event was spun around how to defend him and keep him from getting killed… Again.

 

Then, on top of all of that, a special grade curse made an appearance, and for some unknown reason, a few sorcerers were teamed up with the special grade, creating a barrier that was preventing Gojo from getting in and delaying his aid.

 

Due to that delay, both the Tokyo and Kyoto students, who most of them barely went above grade 2, had to fight, hold off, and try not to get killed against the special grade curse until Gojo could show up. Inumaki’s throat was almost shredded, Megumi and his Nue were almost killed, and Maki and the other students had gotten injured.

 

So yeah, what was supposed to be a sportsmanship event between two Jujutsu schools ended up, what Megumi would describe, a dumpster fire. Almost everything that could have went wrong happened.

 

And here Megumi was, sitting in bed, because he had sustained the worst injuries during the entire event.

 

Of course he did. It was always him. Always.

 

“So you spent all that time watching movies and you still haven’t watched The Notebook?” Nobara’s high voice cut Megumi from his thoughts.

 

Yuji puffed his cheeks and sighed exasperatedly. Nobara kept nagging him about this movie since she found out what he’s been doing while away, and they went back and forth once again about all kinds of romance and chick flicks Nobara was cursing Yuji for not watching while he was trying to tell her it was only part of his training.

 

It was good to have the three of them back together again. Megumi missed this, even if he wasn’t the one doing a lot of the talking, he missed being able to exist with his friends and watch them keep the mood lively. Since Yuji’s been back, Megumi felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders—the weight of guilt that he was the one that got Itadori killed, he was the one that brought him into this part of the world and ended his life.

 

Of course Yuji did actually die, yet how or why he was resurrected is still unknown, but he’s here now and he’s stronger than before. Even if Yuji hadn’t told them about his training with Gojo, Megumi could already feel it in his energy and the more confidence he’s exuding, and he feels happy for his friend.

 

Yeah… All it took was a month away training with Gojo and Yuji was able to fight against a special grade curse and not have to lay in bed like Megumi was, because the curse practically couldn’t get a hit on Yuji… Unlike Megumi.

 

He wasn’t fast enough. He wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t think quick enough before he was struck with a technique that almost drained his life and killed him. He had to be carried away by Panda to safety and miss out on helping his friends for half of the battle. The seed in his abdomen would have sucked all his life source through his cursed energy, but worst of all, he already had burnt through almost all his cursed energy in the short fight anyway. Yeah, again, he had to sit on the benches and miss out.

 

Well, Megumi wasn’t the only one injured. Unfortunately Maki was also hurt, but luckily unlike the sprout that was sucking Megumi’s life source through his cursed energy, Maki is known to not have cursed energy that can be used against her. She was just hurt physically, and being physically tough was Maki’s biggest strength. She truly held off the best for someone with no cursed energy. To be someone that couldn’t use CE, didn’t have a CT, and couldn’t see curses, the fact she faced against a special grade curse and survived gave her all the credit she needed.

 

The more Megumi thought about how amazing Maki’s feat was, the more he compared himself to her. The more he thought about the fact that he was the one born with the Zen’in clans best inherited CT, the one raised by the strongest sorcerer, training under Gojo’s guidance for almost a decade, and yet he… He was injured worse than his peer that had no CE or CT.

 

But Yuji, who trained for only a month with Gojo, was still beaming with energy, completely unharmed, sitting in Megumi’s bedroom while Megumi was the one in bed. The only injuries Yuji sustained were from Todo, and he quickly brushed those off faster than he got them.

 

Megumi thought he would embarrass Gojo’s reputation by making him look like a bad teacher, but the real problem wasn’t his teaching… It was Megumi…

 

He gulped down the lump in his throat, feeling like his stomach would rise up and settle in his chest. He hadn’t finished eating his slice of pizza, not having touched it in about five minutes. He couldn’t even tell if the noises in the background stopped or kept going, everything was just blending together into one dull sensation.

 

He’s supposed to be proving himself useful, to be the one standing side by side with Gojo.

 

He’s supposed to be the first one in line to fight alongside Gojo as an ally, because Gojo found Megumi first.

 

He was supposed to prove that he can be needed.

 

He’s special because…because…

 

“Hey, Fushiguro,”

 

Megumi’s attention shot up to Yuji. He was looking back at him with a gentle smile.

 

“You worked hard.” Otsukare

 

“...yeah.”

 

They all sat and continued to talk for a few more minutes. Megumi didn’t really say anything at all, but he was mentally paying attention to his friends' shenanigans this time and finally finished his slice. It was going fine, until Todo scared Yuji off, and Nobara wanted to go be with Maki next.

 

Megumi sighed, laying on his side and tucking himself in under the blanket. He just told Yuji he was going to surpass him in strength, trying to make himself believe it with whatever he still had. There were windows where he was facing, but no part of him was in the mood to look at the beautiful weather outside. Instead, his eyes glued to a dusty corner of the wall, eyes unblinking as he thought to himself.

 

 

I’m special because…..

 

 

 

 

 

A warm palm landed softly on his shoulder, but Megumi still turned around in surprise, quickly locking eyes with ones that were covered.

 

“Careful,” Gojo chuckled. “Don’t get up too quick or you’ll get dizzy.”

 

Megumi hadn’t even heard him walk in. Did he doze off? The sun was still up and bright so it mustn’t have been for too long.

 

That warm hand unfortunately slid off, Gojo now scooting a chair closer under himself before plopping onto it with a groan, leaning his head back over the edge with one leg folded over the other. The poor guy looked exhausted. Megumi knew everything he had to deal with, knew it and seen it firsthand since he was a kid, and he wished he could help in any way to take even half of that burden off.

 

He sat up in bed, smoothing the blanket over his lap. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have to be-”

 

“No,” he cut abruptly. “Please, if I have to sit with those guys any longer than I already need to, I might just gouge my eyes out. All six if I feel like it.”

 

Megumi sighed quietly. If there was a quality about Gojo that made people dislike him, it was the fact that he didn’t hide when he disliked someone, and that didn’t stop even in a professional setting. He couldn’t be as honest as he wanted at work, so he’d be overly passive aggressive, managing to express sarcasm in a language that barely had it. But as much as he hated doing what he had to do in this career, he still had to follow rules, for now, which meant he had to be an adult bearing more weight than the average adult had to, even back when he was still only a student.

 

Sometimes, when Megumi looks at Gojo, like really looks at him, he can still see that teenager when they first met. That teen spirit in him still waiting for freedom, waiting for the right moment when it’s safe to be what he never could be— A shard of youth that refuses to grow up, like Gojo kept that piece of himself locked away for safekeeping so he wouldn’t lose it when he felt the time was right, because he was forced to be an adult too soon, even when it seems like he never wanted to grow up in the first place.

 

At times, Megumi thought Gojo immature and childish, a grown man still acting like he was peers with his students rather than the teacher sometimes. But he never blamed him. As embarrassing as it came off, he never dared tell Gojo to grow up, because he knows the man was forced to at much too young.

 

Gojo reached up and peeled his mask off his face, head still leaned far back against the chair. Megumi can’t even pretend like he’s trying not to look at Gojo’s adams apple, because the truth is his eyes are glued to the mans thick neck and the rise and fall of his broad chest. His own chest started to tingle and his stomach tightened—Gojo’s familiar, deep light musky scent finally reached his side of the room and surrounded him in that familiar comfort like a fog. It’s a scent that attracts his nose to the source, wanting to plant his face against the man and just fall asleep while he inhales, almost like he did when they shared a futon, and his face starts turning a shade pinker. It’s been a while since they’ve done that.

 

“I didn’t get the cursed spirit..”

 

His mind clears up quickly, blinking sense back into his head. “Huh?”

 

Okay, so much for sense and clarity with that reply…

 

“I didn’t manage to exorcise it,” Gojo straightened up, eyebrows furrowed tight. “It escaped my attack just a second too soon. But the real problem is I don’t know where it’s gone and what it’ll do out there in the meantime,” he was really thinking hard about this, right hand rubbing against his pants mindlessly. “It’s my second time coming across that specific curse, and second time it’s escaped… Just what is it planning?”

 

“Right, I heard you used purple on it. They told me it cut through a lot of the forest.” A shame Megumi couldn’t have seen it. It isn’t often Megumi can see Gojo using his best moves in a fight, especially not lately since he doesn’t attend his missions anymore.

 

Gojo sighed again, leg beginning to bounce and eyes shifting back and forth across a random part of the wall while he thought hard, the wrinkle between his brows never smoothing out.

 

“Sensei,”

 

Gojo locked blue eyes with green.

 

Honestly, Megumi hated Gojo visiting him at this damn bed again. He hates these circumstances, he hates laying in this bed, and he hates that he missed out on so much and was almost no help at all during battle. But hopefully now he can make up for it a little bit.

 

Please still have faith in me with this.

 

“That curse had a very hard shell body. Even Kon couldn’t make a simple scratch on it… But I think I found what its weak spot is.”

 

Gojo’s demeanor shifted, now looking more focused onto Megumi’s words, and Megumi almost wanted to preen under the attention of providing for his sensei, but he couldn’t give himself credit just yet.

 

Megumi laid out his battle against the curse and all details he noticed while fighting against it. He explained what it was like every time he made a cut onto one of the branches coming out of the curses eyes, telling Gojo the finer bits and pieces he kept an eye on. It wasn’t much contribution, but he hoped this bit of information would be important to Gojo later on. He wanted to help him as much as he could, he wanted to help him get closer to success, to reaching his goal that Megumi supported as well. He wants to be Gojo’s biggest supporter, wants to be his closest ally.

 

Please don’t leave me behind.

 

Once Gojo gains knowledge that can benefit him against an opponent, he starts looking like his brain is coming up with a hundred plans for a hundred scenarios on the spot like a super computer, and that look was in Gojo’s eyes right now as he listened to Megumi intently. If Megumi weren’t too humble, he would’ve patted himself on the shoulder. But this isn’t something he should celebrate, this is the least he can do for all he hasn’t been able to. He needs to make up for it. But still, a part of him can’t help that little bit of hope building up because he’s witnessing his aid move plans forward in Gojo’s mind.

 

 

Sensei, I may have not been able to fight successfully against the special grade, but perhaps I found a way to help you exorcise it for good.

 

 

Who are you kidding? He’s Gojo Satoru, he can exorcise any curse with little to no effort. What exactly did you tell him that he wouldn’t have been able to get done without?

 

 

“Megumi,”

 

His heart skipped. Wait, will Gojo thank him? He looked towards his sensei with a twinkle in his eyes, anticipating that one important word to prove he can continue to help by his sensei’s side.

 

Gojo reached forward and rubbed the top of the boys head, smiling softly at him. “You’re so sharp.”

 

…ah?

 

Gojo looked into Megumi’s dulling eyes and his hand stuttered, like he hesitated about something.

 

“Oh, Gojo-sensei, you’re here too?”

 

They both looked at the teen standing just outside the door, and Megumi felt that warm safe hand coming off his head.

 

No, wait…

 

“Yuji!” Gojo got up, Megumi watching them meet in the middle and highfive like old friends with a yo! from Itadori. “Are you here for Megumi?”

 

“Yeah! I was just here earlier and came back to keep him company a bit longer.”

 

“Atta boy, that’s what friends are for!” that hand that was just rubbing Megumi’s head softly was now patting Yuji on the shoulder.

 

Yuji puffed his chest out exaggeratingly at the praise, and they began chatting so smoothly and naturally, wide smiles on their faces. The way they talked together just flowed, matching each other’s enthusiasm and vibe.

 

Yuji was strong, powerful, a quick learner, and good company.

 

“You really held your own against that special grade, Yuji. That’s what happens when you’re learning under the strongest!” Yuji started laughing as he let Gojo rub his knuckles harshly on top of his head because he could, because he was a tough kid that could handle it.

 

The sun from the window was shining over Megumi, but he felt like he was the one in the shadows.

 

“Alright, it’s time for me to head out again,” Gojo adjusted his blindfold back on his face, making his way out the door as Yuji let out an aww of disappointment. “Get plenty of rest, Megumi!”

 

Megumi couldn’t even humor a reply, let alone a reaction, and the man was already gone.

 

“Hey, Fushiguro, you’ll never guess what–”

 

“Sorry, Itadori,” Megumi stopped the other teen in his tracks, voice meek and low. “Sensei woke me up when he came, so I’m still really tired..” Yuji couldn’t get a good look at Megumi’s face, his dark bangs covering up his eyes.

 

They just stayed there in an awkward silence before Yuji realized what Megumi was insinuating.

 

“Oh, right! Sorry, I’ll let you sleep. I’ll just come back later.” He spoke with that good natured cheerfulness of his, not that great at hiding the tone of awkwardness underneath.

 

Yuji said his goodbyes, wishing Megumi a good rest as he made his way out and closed the door behind him with a click. Megumi tucked himself back under the blankets, up to his chin like a child after a bad dream.

 

 

——

 

 

Megumi stopped trying.

 

He stopped putting in more effort than he needed to for basic survival during training. He didn’t need to practice a kick that was perfectly high or low enough with sharp precision. A tough enough kick to stun an enemy was more than satisfactory. He didn’t need to constantly keep his cursed energy at a certain level throughout the day to keep it stable and practice exact control. Being able to just use it when he needed to during a fight was good enough.

 

He stopped focusing on peoples interactions, how they acted, or reading deeper into what they say. There was no point paying so much attention to stuff he wasn’t going to make use of, either for him or for anyone else. Just take interactions at face value and move on, it’s just simpler.

 

He stopped hanging around his friends as much. Honestly, his presence made no contribution anyway, so him not being there didn’t make a difference. It’s not like he talked much or really ever made jokes. All he did was hang around by them and listen to them interacting among themselves. They probably don’t even notice him not being there anyway. In that case, he might as well just spend that time unwinding in his room and reading a good book. This way their time and his will be put to better use respectfully.

 

And most of all, he stopped interacting with Gojo outside of a teacher-student level. He’d just text Gojo in regards to a mission, reporting back to him when necessary, or seeing him when he dropped off reports, and sat during his class. Gojo tried initiating going out to cafe’s and such on the rare moment he had free time, but Megumi would always decline by saying he had something else to do. He would also make sure he was the first to leave the class when lessons were over, no point in hanging around after all if what he was there for was finished.

 

All that time spent with Gojo growing up prepared him for this moment; to be his student. Interacting in ways more than that was unnecessary, because Megumi was only picked up by Gojo for his technique so he could be a sorcerer. Learning to be a sorcerer was his lifes path, so he needs to make sure that’s where his focus should stay. There wasn’t anything more than that.

 

Because straying from that main purpose is why he was in his bed lifelessly curled up in a fetal position right now.

 

He was on his warm bed, in his warm room, but he might as well have been on a hard cold floor in a dark empty space, because that’s where he felt like he was, with a voice in his head constantly reminding him why trying never got him anywhere, because it was always try but never do with him. Why try for more when he never could, when he can just do what he can and get away with it? It was no different from what he was doing before, but this way there was no more disappointment from not meeting a standard he could never reach.

 

Even just thinking he could reach close to the standards of students like Yuta or Yuji could almost bring a laugh out of Megumi.

 

Who did he think he could kid?

 

Megumi thought fighting all those bullies in middle school made him look tough, only to remind himself that it was an unfair fight to begin with because those bullies were just regular kids.

 

But Yuji… Yuji was insanely stronger and faster than any average human even before he trained as a sorcerer, even before Sukuna possessed his body. He saw it firsthand on the day he was investigating the missing cursed object at his school.

 

Yuta has more CE than even Gojo Satoru himself, of course he would have the most amazingly strong CT, of course he had more than enough to work with to get the most control, so in control he can even do RCT on others, a technique so rare there’s only one other person that could do it. Even Gojo couldn’t use RCT on anyone but himself.

 

And to top it off, both students got along with Gojo so naturally. They laughed, they joked, it was like watching two friends instead of teacher and student. There were always smiles, Yuji with a twinkle in his eyes, and Yuta with fondness in his when each of them spoke with the man.

 

Gojo Satoru was special to multiple people. He was sought out by many, his presence welcomed by many, and had other students that believed in his dream and aimed to support it just the same.

 

Megumi thought he could be the one to stand by Gojo’s side, but Gojo already had two on either side of him. There was no room for Megumi but under them all.

 

And Megumi tried, he really tried to suppress how badly he wanted to be held by Gojo. To be held by him as lovers do. But why would he do that with Megumi when he can get any woman he wants? He was too young, and he’s a guy after all. Why would Gojo ever want him? It was stupid, embarrassing and shameful, and he always tried to drown out that part of his brain that thought so shamefully. But even if he did, even if he pretended they didn’t exist, he always knew they were there. Those feelings he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t control.

 

Gojo can’t rely on Megumi’s strength.

 

He can’t rely on Megumi emotionally.

 

And he can’t hold Megumi intimately.

 

Megumi can’t provide anything.

 

He held so tightly onto what if’s and maybe’s to things he deluded himself into thinking he could do so Gojo wouldn’t toss him to the side like everyone else has. He thought he could prove that he was someone worth being here for, that he must’ve had any kind of purpose. There must be a reason he inherited the Ten Shadows, there must be a reason his name was Blessing, there must be something he can do.

 

Please, something, anything.

 

 

 

Why am I even here?

 

 

 

Maybe he inherited the Ten Shadows so he would know what it felt like to be in one—always under a shadow, watching above as life happened right before his eyes like a puddle on the ground. He always watched people laughing, smiling, getting along. That life was always unattainable for him.

 

He thought he could be special.

 

But Megumi wasn’t just under a shadow, he was one. Always there, but never acknowledged. No one ever paid any mind to their own shadow. Even if that shadow were to vanish entirely, they would likely not even notice its absence. A shadow really has no purpose for existing. Yet, it has no choice but to exist as it is—simply lingering there, vaguely present.

 

Megumi wasn’t special.

 

He wasn’t someone worth raising, he wasn’t someone worth training, he wasn’t someone worth talking to. He feels so bad for the years Gojo wasted on him.

 

He remembered how Gojo talked to Yuji after the Goodwill event.

 

You really held your own against that special grade. That’s what happens when you’re learning under the strongest

 

Why should he get jealous of Yuji’s praise anyway? It’s not like he held up against the special grade. He would’ve died if no one came to help on time. Gojo never acknowledged he was being trained by the strongest because his results in fights proved that, proved he wasn’t learning anything at all. Why would Gojo embarrassingly credit himself for Megumi’s lacking?

 

He could feel a pit in his stomach when he would remember all that Gojo said to him that day after almost being killed.

 

You’re so sharp

 

And that was it. Of course Gojo had to say something, anything, to Megumi attempting to tell the strongest sorcerer in the world how to fight a curse. As if Gojo couldn’t just snap his fingers and the curse would be dead. That was so embarrassing, Gojo had to be nice about it because he’s his teacher. Told Megumi he was sharp because all he could do was notice things, but not act on them.

 

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

He was heaving into his pillow, because he refused to cry, squeezing his burning eyes to hold back the flood accumulating behind them. He didn’t deserve to, no one told him to hurt himself this way, no one told him to have such high expectations. But he was the idiot that thought with enough delusions that he could be something special.

 

Gojo’s words sounded in his mind then, words the man told him shortly after Tsumiki went into a coma and the man killed his only best friend while they sought comfort in each others presence as he looked into the blue oceanic waves of his eyes.

 

Love is the most twisted curse of all.

 

Megumi hiccuped, clenching his eyes harder and holding tighter to the growing pit in his stomach that was reaching his chest.

 

He loved Gojo so much.

 

He loved him because to Megumi, Gojo was always there. He was the only one who was honest to him. He was the only one that stood by his side and protected him, defended him. He was the only one that held him physically. The only one that went out with him, the only one that had deep meaningful conversations with him. They shared memories, good and bad, and knew the most trivial facts about each other.

 

Gojo was all Megumi knew. But to Gojo, Megumi was just another person in his life, because for Gojo, all those things were done with other people, and better. Megumi wasn’t even the first option.

 

He felt like his life revolved around Gojo in some way, and trying to live up to what Gojo could want from him was what was pushing him forward, giving him ambition to get better and catch up. But with all these other people always one step ahead of him in full display, what else could he possibly provide in this life?

 

Gojo still had friends from when he was a student that he could have deep conversations with, and they understood him better having grown up with him and being adults. Gojo didn’t need protection because he was the strongest, but he had two promising powerful students ready to fight by his side nonetheless. Gojo went on multiple dates with many older attractive women to hold and be intimate with.

 

All things Megumi thought he could do for Gojo, other people had already beaten him to it.

 

This love was growing and spreading like a curse over his skin, it was consuming him, sinking him further and further underground with the worms, eating him alive. It was making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to function.

 

Megumi only had one responsibility, one purpose to fulfill: become a sorcerer. That was the plan Gojo gave him, and that’s all he had to do. It was but a mere simple request.

 

But even just that he can’t do right. Gojo never asked him to fulfill his wishes, to stand by his side, to be his best friend or his lover. He was just being nice, raising him the way an adult should with a child. But Megumi was the naive child that believed there was more to it.

 

He wanted to claw into his face from frustration, scream and wail, but he had no one to blame but himself. All the signs were laid out in front of him but he chose to ignore them, signs that he couldn’t be what Gojo needed him to be.

 

Megumi was born a Fushiguro, but he had Zen’in blood.

 

Maybe it was destiny that he would always be on the other side of Gojo. They were parallel lines.

 

He could try to climb the wall placed between them and pretend he was making any progress, but that brick wall was in front of him clear as day, and each brick he’d try to grab on to would only crumble on top of him to bury him deeper in his place. This was his spot, this is where he stays.

 

He exhaled, long and shaky. His phone notification dinged but he ignored it, probably one of his friends. He had to try to sleep, it was so late but his mind wouldn’t stop racing.

 

Megumi stopped trying, stopped trying to care.

 

Stopped trying to care about his friends, his performance, his peers, and about Gojo.

 

He tried.

 

But every night he would be here, in bed, feeling his chest caving into a painful abyss. He didn’t know how to make it stop. Caring is what got him like this, but pretending to stop caring only made it worse. His throat muscles were aching, sore and tired from swallowing down every tear he refused to let out, drowning every dry whimper into his pillow.

 

He’s hurting so bad, so lost and confused. He didn’t have family to run to, didn’t have friends to open up to. He’d rather die than tell Gojo all of this. And worst of all, he didn’t have his sister for comfort.

 

In every aspect of his life, he was alone.

 

 

——

 

 

Gojo half sat himself on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed, announcing that class ended for the day. He still had a smile on his face, as per usual, needing to express some kind of emotion since his eyes were covered all the time. But a smile is only just a smile unless there was a reason for it, and this one he wore was just for looks and nothing else. Something unusual was going on with his student, and it isn’t sitting right with him.

 

“Megumi,” he called out quickly, because he knew Megumi was the first to beeline out of the room. He had seen the boy reaching for his personal belongings before Gojo even announced class was dismissed. “Let me talk with you, alone.”

 

Megumi’s throat bobbed, but otherwise displayed no emotion on his face. Gojo could see the way Megumi was still avoiding eye contact in a way that wouldn’t come off as obvious. But nothing gets past his six eyes. It’s been a long time since Megumi last looked him in the eyes. Too long.

 

The other two students walked out of class as they watched Megumi step forward in front of their sensei. Even those two have been more uncharacteristically quiet lately. Gojo is at a loss, has everyone got in one big fight? He’s not sensing any anger when they’re around each other, and if it were a fight then at least one of them would be acting a bit passive aggressive. And while Megumi is off somewhere because he says he has stuff to do, the other students aren’t acting much differently with each other either. So this has to be something up with Megumi then.

 

Megumi stepped up without a word, eyes downcast, somewhere on Gojo’s chest. Probably focusing on the wrinkles on his clothes.

 

It was silent, no one speaking up first. Or maybe Gojo was giving Megumi a chance to say something. But he never did.

 

“So,” Gojo started, because he felt like they were gonna get nowhere if he didn’t. He held up a few sheets of paper to read from his desk, flipping through them. “I’ve read the reports from the missions you went on with Yuji and Nobara recently. But what I’ve noticed is how little your name is showing up in them.”

 

Megumi sighed exaggeratedly, pocketing his hands while he looked off towards the hallway like he’s being lectured about chewing gum during class.

 

Gojo held up the papers briefly to make a statement. “Mind explaining why?”

 

“Why what?” He shrugged his shoulders, growing irritated.

 

“Why you’ve been slacking off on your missions?”

 

And for the first time in a while, Megumi finally gave Gojo a good look at green. He looked straight at him, eyebrows sharply downturned. But these weren’t the same green he’s used to, like grass on a sunny day. This green was sharp and acidic.

 

“What do you mean slacking off? We succeeded the missions, didn’t we?” His voice was beginning to rise, each word bringing him a step closer to going off.

 

“Megumi, that’s not the point,” even Gojo was beginning to get increasingly provoked by Megumi’s behavior.

 

“Then what’s the point!?” Megumi’s fists balled up, holding himself back from grabbing those stupid sheets of paper from Gojo’s hands and throwing them. Megumi has never raised his voice against Gojo, or really anyone for that matter. “The missions are being done and we’re all coming back alive. Why are you accusing me of slacking off? You have two other students, too. Maybe they’re just getting better so why don’t you go praise them instead of nagging me?”

 

Megumi felt like his head was going to explode, anger and embarrassment pulling in each part of his skull like it was squeezing his brains out. He didn’t wanna yell, but he just couldn’t stop it. He didn’t know what was going on with him, but the more he spoke the more his lips began to quiver like they had a mind of their own, not being able to stop the words coming out. He knows he’s flying too close to the sun.

 

“The reason I’m nagging you is because I know you can do more than this!” He didn’t mention also catching Megumi slack during training either, but he meant it. Gojo was not the type to lose his cool or raise his voice at a student ever. He’s had people call him names to his face, disrespect him, yell at him, and all the same he’s been able to handle it, brush it off or laugh at the way the other wouldn’t be able to stay composed over something so minor. But with Megumi screaming in his face disrespectfully like he did something wrong, his own filter was beginning to slip. There was only one other time in his life he lost control of his volume.

 

“More than what?!” Megumi ripped the papers out of Gojo’s hands, shoving them back into the mans face. “Look for yourself, see, see! The missions are being completed in the end whether I did whatever I’ve done before or not, so why are you singling me out now as if I’ve done anything worth praise in the past?”

 

Gojo grabs Megumi’s wrist, jerking it down rougher than he normally would’ve, moving the papers out of his face. “There you go talking about some praise again.” The anger started to shift from the look on Megumi’s face to something a bit more disconcerted. “Oh? What, don’t tell me that’s what this is about?”

 

Megumi grits his teeth angrily again, trying to push against the hand around his wrist and just run away. His hand starts heating up, feeling it begin to swell and tingle painfully with the circulation cutting off. Gojo’s hand, the same ones to land on his shoulder with the grace of a butterfly or stroke his hair, were beginning to hurt him, his larger fingers pressing against bone harshly.

 

No, this isn’t about praise. This isn’t about getting a pat on the back or being told ‘good job’. This is about wasted years of breaking a sweat and tirelessly training to nothing more than a slight difference in a mission report.

 

Everything in this moment was crumbling in front of Megumi’s eyes. From seeing what all his efforts actually looked like to Gojo, to his first reprimand by said man. But even with nothing more to lose, Megumi couldn’t bring himself to open up something sealed so tight. Maybe even if he wanted to, he just couldn’t. That’s how tight it was, because all those years he tried bottling them up even against himself.

 

His grip on Megumi was unrelenting, his own arm barely moving against the fight Megumi was having against it like he was made out of stone.

 

“Is that what you want? You want me to praise you over every pointless thing? Do you want me to put a gold star on your desk too, huh?”

 

No, no, NO! Megumi wanted to scream it out, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything anymore. He just wanted to run, he didn’t wanna confront any of this.

 

“Maybe it’s my fault for being too soft on you all these years. Don’t act like a spoiled brat, now,” Gojo’s voice was cold, sternly talking to Megumi like a real adult to a child. He finally released his grip, report papers flying between them with Megumi knocking against a desk behind him, almost tripping before catching himself against it. “It’s time you grow up, Megumi.” There was a finality in his voice Megumi’s never heard before.

 

Megumi could only hold himself against the desk, panting in the cold open silence of the classroom. He wouldn’t dare see what face Gojo was making right now, not even able to look at the mans shoes as he faced the floor.

 

Gojo didn’t expect this to turn into a fight. He wasn’t expecting Megumi, or rather both of them, to blow up the way that they did. He just wanted to talk to the boy, see what was going on in his head, to help out the way a teacher—no, the way his guardian should. This life is one a teenager shouldn’t have to be forced to live through, and he knows that all too well. It’s why he’s always tried to let Megumi know he can rely on him, to not have to live such a young life with the same unfair burdens that were placed on him. But Megumi has always had a hard shell to crack, and a stubborn personality to boot.

 

For a moment he starts to question if maybe he went too far, beginning to feel bad at seeing how roughly Megumi knocked back against that desk. He would never lay a hand on Megumi outside of educational training or hurt him in any way. But Megumi was a tough boy, surely a little thump against a desk was nothing.

 

And then Gojo saw a flash of red, a harsh band around the boys wrist, and his face drops. He didn’t think he was holding Megumi that hard, he was just trying to get Megumi to listen to him.

 

“Megumi, I-”

 

The desk fleetingly screeched against the wood floor as Megumi briskly walked out of the class.

 

Today was many firsts for Megumi. And many firsts were had for Gojo as well.

 

The first time he’s raised his voice at Megumi, the first time he’s had to reprimand Megumi, and the first time he’s seen Megumi cry.

 

 

——

 

 

It was the next day, and Gojo rubbed at his covered eyes with a heavy breath of air, seated at his desk in the empty classroom. It’s early in the morning, and he didn’t get a wink of sleep. Gojo rarely gets much sleep to begin with from how packed his schedule is, but little sleep doesn’t have much of an effect on him since he’s running RCT on his brain 24/7. Nevertheless he is just a human after all, and even an all nighter can have Gojo Satoru feeling shitty, on top of the fact guilt has been eating at him all night, remembering the flash of a teardrop falling from Megumi’s face before he ran off yesterday.

 

He wanted to go after Megumi and apologize profusely, hold his wrist with the gentleness of a baby bird in his palm. He wanted to knock at his door, talk it out to really understand what’s going on. But he just didn’t know when the time was right.

 

But ultimately he decided to give the boy some alone time. Maybe he just needed a second to cool off before he would yell at Gojo again.

 

Megumi was not the type to yell or fight back the way that he did. Gojo’s reaction wasn’t any better, he should’ve given Megumi patience for acting so out of character. But Megumi is growing up, he can’t coddle him forever. He needs to reflect on his actions, give the boy time to think about what he’s done and how he reacted and hopefully swallow his pride. He’s old enough and capable to know right from wrong.

 

And just when he thinks he’s being a reasonable adult, he remembers the purpling skin on Megumi’s wrist and sinks his face back into his hands with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart.

 

This isn’t just about yesterday. Megumi’s been avoiding him for a while, but he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong prior to yesterday. He doesn’t answer his texts anymore unless he’s telling Gojo when a mission is done. He doesn’t even give him a yes or no answer anymore when Gojo asks to hang out, he just leaves the text unopened until he has to text him about a mission days later.

 

Megumi hasn’t even been around his friends anymore. Gojo will come across the students training, talking at vending machines, or gathering after class, but there’s always one person missing amongst them. He’s gone up to them one time, asking where Megumi was casually so as to not raise any kind of yellow flag, and suddenly their smiles would disappear, telling Gojo the same thing Megumi’s been telling him for weeks.

 

“He says he has other stuff to do.”

 

Gojo tries thinking hard on when all this began. Did someone say something to Megumi? Did something happen at the school, or is this from an outside source?

 

Prior to the Goodwill event, Megumi seemed a bit down in the dumps mourning for Yuji, but other than that he’s been the same. He’s texted normally, telling Gojo about his day or where he’d like to eat when Gojo could come back. He would send Gojo texts if he felt like he was making progress during training, logging it with his sensei. He would even catch glimpses of his students and the second years training together, watching Megumi’s face spark with something new as it looked like he was experimenting with his shadows' new potential.

 

It seems like the drop in activity happened just after the Goodwill event, but he can’t think of what could have happened during that time that suddenly turned the boy so cold.

 

The event really was a shit show, Gojo won’t even deny that. But he and the other teachers and principals were watching the students the entire time, up until the cursed spirit showed up, and it only took a couple minutes for Gojo to break in. Was it something that happened in that short time?

 

The classroom door slides open, and Gojo stands automatically. Two students walk in, finding their seats with early morning yawns and stretching.

 

“Huh, Fushiguro’s not here?” Yuji points out in the middle of a yawn.

 

“You haven’t seen him, Yuji?” Gojo tried to ask casually, stifling the slight tone of concern, but not really doing a great job at it.

 

Nobara picks at her nails mindlessly and Yuji scratches at his head in genuine confusion. “Usually I don’t see him when I leave my room because he heads out before me. I thought it was the same today, but I guess I didn’t really hear any noises in his room when I got up this morning.”

 

Gojo hums in acknowledgement, but he can’t dwell on it too much right now, so he claps his hands and begins the lesson for today.

 

 

——

 

 

Gojo had dismissed his students for the day, plopping onto his seat with a sigh now that he was alone again. It’s hard to try to teach a class like everything is normal when every person in the room just seemed so awkwardly quiet. It was definitely unusual to see Nobara and Yuji, of all students, just sit and listen til the end with very minimal questions.

 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise, but Megumi didn’t show up at all. He knew he wouldn’t, Megumi never skipped a class or was ever late. So if he didn’t come before class started, he 100% was not gonna come anywhere in the middle. But still, he couldn’t control glancing at the door from time to time as he was teaching.

 

“Uhh, sensei?”

 

Gojo straightened his head, not realizing he was hanging it off the back of his chair. He stood up, playing appearances again. “Yes Yuji, what’s up?”

 

Yuji stepped back into the class somewhat bashfully, and Gojo had an inkling as to why.

 

“I’m a bit worried… About Fushiguro.”

 

Gojo’s hands tensed, his eyebrows pinching. “Did something happen to him?” had Yuji heard things from Megumi’s room yesterday? Did Megumi bring up any worrying thoughts to him?

 

Yuji could see the change in Gojo’s demeanor, like he was ready to storm out of the room if he didn’t speak up quick enough. Yuji was too reluctant at first, not sure if he was overstepping, but he figured he should just be honest, for Megumi’s sake.

 

“Well… I heard you two, yesterday,” he finally let out, scratching at the back of his head again. One trait about Yuji was even if he was unsure about something, he always kept eye contact.

 

“Oh… You did, did you?” Gojo didn’t know what to think of it, but his shoulders finally untensed just slightly. Well, there was no point in keeping appearances now, dropping back down to his seat with a loud sigh. He lifted his elbows to his desk with a thud, intertwining his fingers and leaning his forehead against his thumbs. “I don’t know what to do with him,” he shook his head with a sigh, looking deflated for once in Yuji’s life.

 

“So it’s not just with us, then,” Yuji sighed back. “I thought he was mad at us or something, or with me.”

 

“Yuji, tell me,” he already read the report on the events of the Goodwill event special grade, but there must be more to the story. “What exactly happened inside the veil that day?”

 

“...Well,” Yuji finally looked down at his shoes, digging into a crack on the old wood floor as he thought for a moment. “I was separated from Fushiguro for most of it, so I don’t really know.”

 

Gojo’s lips thinned then, thinking this might not give him answers after all.

 

“But,” he looked back up at the boy. “When I did see him, he was already kneeling on the floor in pretty bad shape. At first he was trying to get me not to go up against the curse, saying we wouldn’t be a match against it, but eventually he let it go and let Panda carry him away.”

 

Gojo hummed. Of course a detail like this wouldn’t be in the report. It wasn’t much to go off of, but it did help give a bit more context.

 

“He threatened me not to die again or he’d kill me,” Yuji chuckled fondly. “And then when I visited him in his room, he mentioned how strong I’d gotten and said he was gonna surpass me, like it was a promise.”

 

So that confirms Gojo’s thoughts then. Megumi is feeling insecure again, huh? That was the problem with him, he focused too much on comparing himself to others. But if Megumi promised he would surpass Yuji’s strength, why would he just suddenly stop working harder? Instead, during training and missions, it just seemed like he was giving Yuji the spotlight. Again, it just doesn’t add up.

 

“Sensei,” Yuji’s voice dropped back down, looking like a kicked puppy. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

Ah, Yuji, ever the sympathetic one.

 

“Nah,” Gojo finally got up leisurely with a lighthearted smile, giving Yuji two pats on the shoulder. “You just leave him to me, I’ll take care of it.”

 

 

——

 

 

Four days have gone by since then, and Megumi has still not left his room. It was starting to get worrying, nobody had caught a glimpse of him anywhere, not even slipping out for food.

 

He skipped every class since then and has even rejected every mission assigned to him. Yuji has told Gojo he hasn’t even heard a single peep from his room next door. This can’t keep going on like this, he was getting very bad deja vu.

 

“Megumi,” he knocked gently, but still with the authority of his guardian and teacher. “You know you can’t keep this up forever,” he tried to reason. “You have to report for your missions. You have responsibilities too.”

 

Gojo had the ability to easily teleport in the boys room or even the strength to open the door off its hinges. But he also respected Megumi’s privacy, it wasn’t his place to barge in. Megumi may have been under his care, but he didn’t own him.

 

He also didn’t wanna invade his privacy too much, but he just needed to see for himself. With his six eyes he could see Megumi’s energy was definitely in his room, most likely laying in bed. Good, he was still alive at least. He could also see that he made no effort to move at all, and he still said nothing to him through the door. Of course.

 

Gojo sighed again, there was no point just standing out there. But he hopes Megumi will let him talk to him soon.

 

“You have a mission tomorrow, I hope to hear from you then.”

 

 

——

 

 

Gojo stood at the schools entrance with Ijichi, tapping his foot impatiently on the stone floor. He didn’t mention it to Megumi yesterday so as not to scare him off, but he was planning on coming with him to this mission. But he checked the time, and Megumi was 20 minutes late. If he were to reject a mission, he would have at least texted Ijichi, the only person Megumi has made any contact with all week, but since Ijichi didn’t get a text this time, they assumed maybe he would show up.

 

Gojo let out an irritated groan, causing Ijichi to flinch. The poor guys nerves were already on edge expecting Gojo to go off on him any minute as if it were his fault.

 

“G-Gojo-san, perhaps we should-..”

 

At that moment, he decided enough was enough, stomping his way back into the school.

 

“Wait, Gojo-san!”

 

He took a few more steps before he teleported in front of Megumi’s dorm, the gust of wind at his feet thumping on the door in front of him.

 

He knocked three times firmly. No, he wasn’t gonna slam against the door, he wasn’t gonna yell or shout. But he was also running out of patience.

 

“Megumi,” he called out sternly, before everything froze in place.

 

He couldn’t sense Megumi’s cursed energy in the room.

 

He had no control of his actions before he grabbed the knob and forced Megumi’s door open easily, a piece of the doors lock clinking somewhere on the ground that he didn’t care at all to notice.

 

His eyes scanned every inch, every corner of Megumi’s small room. He stormed into the closet, the bathroom.

 

“Megumi!?” his breathing was picking up.

 

Where? Where?

 

 

——

 

 

Megumi finally turned the corner, feet dragging under him like weights, eventually stopping in his tracks. He looked down at the spot in front of him, and honestly the surrounding area still looked the same.

 

He looks to his side, at the window on the building next to him, remembering the time when his tallest height was just below it. Now, he can easily peek right through it, into the home that still remained untouched and unoccupied.

 

He looks back at the spot in front of him, comparing the height to the bottom of the window where he stood on that one day, imagining a younger him looking up at himself with a scowl.

 

So this is how it must’ve looked like to him that day.

 

The sunset looks about the same right now as it did then, too.

 

He places the key into the lock, stepping inside and taking off his shoes like he’s done a million times before, like it’s still part of his daily routine despite not having been here for months.

 

And just then, a wave of nostalgia washes over him as he takes his first breath. It smells the same as it always has, albeit a bit more dusty than usual. Of course it would, there’s no one here to tend to it. Not now. Not anytime soon.

 

Despite that, the apartment is still being paid for, just in case, for when someone can come back to her belongings and her bed, all safely kept away waiting for her.

 

Megumi makes his way upstairs, because that’s exactly what he’s here for. He’s there, in front of the closet specifically for Tsumiki, with all of her things. Her clothes, her futon, even some of her old dolls she’s never been able to give away.

 

Hanging on the hook, still in pristine unwrinkled condition, was Tsumiki’s middle school uniform. Was Tsumiki really this small? It’s like he can’t even remember anymore. It is for a middle schooler afterall. Was Megumi this small back then too?

 

He takes it off the hook with the most care in the world, like it’ll disintegrate, like it’s ancient, but he wants to keep it intact. He makes himself comfortable, as comfortable as he can be in the middle of the floor, tears welling up in his eyes as he runs his fingers through the all too familiar fabric.

 

But the jacket hasn’t been touched in over a year, so of course there’s no warmth, no scent wafting off. He brings it to his nose, and all too suddenly he can’t stop the loud hiccup that breaks into a whimper. A pathetic little sound, coming from a poor pathetic little broken thing.

 

He curls himself right there, in the middle of the tatami floor, crying and hugging Tsumiki, because this is the most comfort he’ll ever get.

 

“I’m sorry,” more spillage, more vulnerability, the most he’s ever let out in his entire life. “I’m so s-sorry,”

 

It didn’t take him long to come here to Saitama, and he knows Gojo must be upset with him for running off. But for once, he wants to stop thinking about how much he’s disappointed him. He just wants a hug. He just wants his big sister.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hours pass, and he’s still in that same spot, curled up, Tsumiki’s uniform sullied and soaked with Megumi’s tears.

 

He wasn’t whimpering anymore, no more hiccuping, and his breathing had evened out. But the tears still dribbled down steadily, like his eyes were broken. But years of holding them in, rejecting them, it makes sense if the faucet got a little damaged, so he just left them—just let the tears leak out until they decided they had enough.

 

The sun was long gone, the room that drowned in a golden sunlight was now glowing blue from the moon.

 

He stopped crying an hour ago, despite the tears still trickling down his cheeks like a gentle rain, so his nose finally cleared up for the most part as well. He had Tsumiki’s uniform on his face, eyes closed and breathing softly, listening to the crickets in this too quiet neighborhood. But the silence in this place only soothed him, teetering on the edge of wakefulness and being half asleep. He felt like a baby, finally in its crib.

 

He didn’t even move when he felt a pair of arms holding him up against a warm body.

 

“I’m so sorry, Megumi,”

 

It was a small voice, whispered warmly into the boys hair. All he could do was sigh, shifting deeper into the uniform in front of him, and in turn against the broad chest, arms tightening around him in response.

 

Gojo had almost lost himself today, driving himself mad at where Megumi could’ve run off to. He thought he went to lose himself in a crowd, or travel hours to the middle of nowhere. Maybe he ran into a bad group of people, or surrounded himself around an infestation of curses. Had Megumi gone out for the whole day? Forever? He searched for hours, far and wide, ignoring every text, every call that wasn’t from Megumi.

 

And in the midst of his frenzy, he stopped to breathe, to think. Where would Megumi go? Where would Megumi go…

 

So he stood there, mask loose in his hand, seeing Megumi the tiniest he’s ever been, in the middle of an empty room with his face buried in the jacket of the only person he had left. A broken little thing.

 

All this time he spent, carefully trying to hold together Megumi’s cracked heart after he lost his sister, being there for him, caring for him, holding him, but he only caused him to come right back to the very beginning, because along the way he lost track of noticing those closest to him once again. Because he told this child to grow up and not feel vulnerable, because he made him feel like being gentle to him all those years was just an obligation, because he had to, and not because he really wanted to.

 

He would use every drop of his power to destroy this earth before he would lose Megumi like this. He would drown himself in Point Nemo if he hurt Megumi with his own hands.

 

“I’m sorry,” he kissed his hair. “So sorry,” he kissed his temple.

 

Megumi shifted, squeezing his face tighter to the jacket.

 

“Megumi,” he ran his fingers through his boys hair, as gentle as an autumn breeze. “Please let me see you.”

 

A beat of silence, a tighter hold to the jacket in his face, but a soft gentle “please” whispered near his ear gets him to crack.

 

He barely moves the jacket down, only enough to expose one eye to the man looking down at him in his arms. One eye, swollen and pink and glittering with a million more stars than the ones outside the window.

 

Gojo can’t hold back the tight ache in his heart, his tiny boy in his arms, stroking his thumb over as much of his cheek that’s exposed, leaning down and kissing the tears out of the corner of his eye. Megumi’s perfect long eyelashes tickle against his chin, fluttering closed with a sigh.

 

They sat there, in the middle of the empty room, together. Gojo doesn’t even know how long they’ve been like that, not counting because it isn’t important. At one point he starts humming mindlessly, swaying Megumi in his arms who may or may not be asleep.

 

He looks around then, really looks at the room. He chuckles airily. “Has this room always been this small? Wild to think it used to fit me and you.”

 

Then he learns Megumi wasn’t asleep, because he peeks up at Gojo curiously, eyes following his around the rooms walls now. Now they’re both taking in the memories—the ones of them, sharing a room, a futon, and warmth.

 

Megumi sighs, pulling away and finally sitting up straight with the jacket pulled down. But his eyes, still ever so timid, were looking down at his own hands.

 

“Megumi?”

 

“Sensei,”

 

Gojo blinks. He hopes he didn’t say something wrong, something that would make Megumi push him away again.

 

“Will you close your eyes?”

 

Megumi was still unmoving, still not looking up. Gojo eyed him up and down, looking for any kind of hint, any kind of emotion.

 

“Okay,” he breathes out.

 

So he does. If Megumi asked him to close his eyes, he’ll close them. If Megumi asked him to turn off infinity so he could hit him, he’d turn it off. If he asked Gojo to break a rule against the higher ups, he wouldn’t even think twice.

 

Gojo’s senses have always been the best, even if his eyes were closed, so it’s simple for him to know that Megumi wasn’t doing anything but probably looking at him. He isn’t sure what this means, if Megumi maybe just wanted to look at him, or was building up the courage to say something. But he waits.

 

He hears a shift, a breath, a warmth, and then something soft against his own lips.

 

It was barely a press at all, just a touch that lingered. Gojo held back a gulp, unable to get himself to move.

 

But then it deepened, into a proper kiss, two kisses, three.

 

“Megumi,” he broke against his lips, grasping onto the hand that had placed itself on his chest. He blinked open, watching Megumi bump his forehead onto his chest.

 

They stayed like that for a moment, both adjusting to the situation, to process. Gojo wondered briefly if Megumi could feel his heartbeat against his forehead.

 

“I’m the one that’s sorry, Gojo-san,” he muttered, fists clenching tighter against Gojo’s chest. Gojo didn’t say anything. Truthfully he didn’t know what to say at the moment, but most importantly this was a chance for Megumi to open up, to what he’s really been feeling. “I’m sorry that after all these years, I can never be strong enough. That I might never be able to catch up to you, to be your equal. I’m sorry that I’m not fun to talk with, and I don’t give you highfives or make you laugh,” his voice gradually began to shake again. “And… I’m sorry that I’m not a woman you can lend your heart to,” he finally looked up, face looking so broken. He didn’t just make eye contact, he was bearing his soul, reaching for Gojo’s with those sparkling, pooling greens drowning in tears. “But is it so wrong for me, to be selfish, just this once?” he hiccuped.

 

His body began to shake, and even after all these hours, he still had more tears to shed. Gojo brought his hands to each of Megumi’s cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs, and Megumi reached, holding on to those wrists like he didn’t wanna be pulled away.

 

“I’m s-sorry, that the most I can be is average, that I don’t have anything special to give you, but p-please, don’t…”

 

Please don’t what?

 

Don’t toss me aside.

 

Don’t reject me.

 

Don’t push me away.

 

Those aren’t things Megumi deserves to ask for. It isn’t up to him what Gojo decides to feel in the end. But still, not again.

 

Don’t abandon me like everybody else, not again.

 

Gojo pulls him into a hug, burying his face into Megumi’s neck, and Megumi’s into his. Megumi doesn’t know what this entails, if it’s a rejection, one last goodbye. If it’s pity, or what. All he knows is he’s hugging Gojo back no matter what, because right now that’s all he wants to do. He breathes in deeply in the midst of his crying, doing what he’s been dying to do for so long—sink his nose into Gojo’s neck and just drown in it, in his scent, commit it to a memory so vivid he can just relive the moment and never forget a detail, because he doesn’t know what’ll happen once this moment is over.

 

“I love you,” he whispers into his shoulder brokenly, because at this point whether he gets rejected or not, he may as well let it out. The damage has already been done.

 

“Is that what this was about?” Gojo’s hand grasps the back of Megumi’s head, with all the tender care in the world, pressing Megumi closer into his chest like he’s trying to sink him in. “Megumi, why would you think that’s what I wanted?”

 

Megumi’s eyes open. “Because,” he gulps. He pulls back just a bit, to let himself be heard clearly. “Because I know you, sensei. I know you’re the happiest when you’re with other strong people. People that can understand you, stand by your side.”

 

Gojo shakes his head at that. “You said you love me, right?” Megumi’s temperature rises, his cheeks staining red like watercolor. He looks up briefly into those eyes, blues that he swears he can see fish swimming in. He nods shyly. “Why?”

 

Megumi is taken aback. He doesn’t say anything.

 

“Is it because I have six eyes? Or is it because I’m fast?” he strokes Megumi’s arms. “Do you love me because I make a lot of money? Or because I’m the strongest?”

 

Megumi shook his head fast. No… No, that’s not why. And when Megumi thinks about it, about when it all started, he realizes. He fell in love with Gojo in the moments when Gojo was just… Human.

 

In the moments when Gojo would look out onto the scenery, like for that one moment he didn’t have any worries in his mind. In those moments where he would be asleep, warm and vulnerable as life continued outside, because the world continued to spin even without Gojo Satoru to move it during that time. When he remembers that lively teenager, carrying the weight of the world, who would drop by with a bag of candy he spent time picking out at the convenience store, because he too was once a child that loved candy.

 

If Gojo was powerless, if he was just a normal human, if he wasn’t the strongest, Megumi would still love him all the same. He loves him because he’s Gojo Satoru.

 

He cups Megumi’s cheeks again, bringing their foreheads together. “Then you should know that you’re the most special person in the world to me, because of who you are, not what you are.”

 

Gojo is the one to lean closer this time, planting a soft ticklish kiss to the corner of Megumi’s lips.

 

“You mean the world to me, Megumi.”

 

 

 

 

 

——

 

 

 

 

 

Megumi sat on the edge of Gojo’s bed, back at the mans apartment in Tokyo. They didn’t go back to the school, Gojo deciding to let Megumi spend the night here to compose himself as he dug around for something comfortable for the boy to change into.

 

Megumi, to put it bluntly, looked like a wreck. His hair was stiff and a little disheveled, his eyes were puffy and his nose and cheeks were pink and shiny. He let out a heavy sigh, but there was no real weight to it. The feeling in his chest had felt like it lifted, even if there were still a few questions hanging in the air.

 

He glanced around, taking in the interior. This was only his second time here, but the room seemed to look the same. Well, he can’t say for certain because the last time he was in here it was dark and he had just been woken up and groggy. But he and Gojo both know that man rarely comes to his own place at all, so it’s most likely he wouldn’t be bothered to switch it up. Was Gojo gonna spend the night here, too? Was he gonna hold Megumi like he did that day?

 

He can’t help but wonder how many women have been in here since then.

 

“Here ya go, Megumi. These should fit just fine.”

 

He handed the boy the pajamas he managed to find, plopping down next to him on the bed. Gojo was still dressed in his uniform, but took his jacket off and was in his black t-shirt, perfectly fitted around his chest and arms. Megumi took the clothes in hand, looking at them, but made no move to get up before he looked like his mind drifted again.

 

“I’m sorry, sensei.”

 

“Hey, come on now, you don’t have to keep apologizing-”

 

“No, really,” he turned to Gojo, finally looking at him eye to eye as he speaks honestly. “I caused a lot of trouble for you because I couldn’t help feeling insecure. You have other people that rely on you, look to you for comfort, because you’ve saved them too,” he bit his lip, holding back the urge to look away. But he needs to do this, to let it all out earnestly. “I just… Couldn’t help feeling like I was falling so far behind, like I would be forgotten.”

 

Gojo pressed his lips into a line, but he listened intently. Now wasn’t the time to jump in with corrections just yet. Megumi’s hands started twiddling with the fabric he was holding.

 

“I always thought that because I had the ten shadows technique, from what you insinuated that one time, that I would be like your other half. I selfishly thought that others would look at me when I got to the school and be amazed, because I had been taught under you for almost ten years, and I would have the talent to show for it.” Megumi sighed, looking straight ahead now.

 

“When I heard about Okkotsu-senpai and all that he’s done, I couldn’t believe it. He was only a first year with no experience, and yet he already accomplished almost everything you had. I have nothing but respect for senpai,” his voice began to soften solemnly. “But when I heard all of that, I thought to myself… I had a lot to catch up on really fast.”

 

Gojo let out a weak sigh, because once again he was getting deja vu from another all too familiar story, and he feels frustrated not catching the signs sooner again.

 

“Even though I felt that way, I thought senpai was a unique case, a prodigy, so I didn’t think too hard on it. After all, you said he was a distant relative, so it made sense.… But then came Itadori,” his hands clenched. “If it was hard enough as it was to catch up to you, I couldn’t even catch up to him. He only just came to our world with no knowledge about it at all. He doesn’t even have a cursed technique, just energy, and yet time and time again he’s been the one that saved me from danger,”

 

“It was then, during the Goodwill event that the special grade ambushed us, and I tried with all that I could to hold off until you got there, but then I was struck and got injured. Of course I would be,” he shrugged, shaking his head. “It was a special grade, even I’m not naive enough to think I could defeat it at my level… And then once again, Itadori showed up just in time, and I was saved. I was afraid for him to go up against it, thinking he would get killed. But at the end of the day, he didn’t even get a scratch.” He muttered the last part, almost shamefully.

 

Gojo looked down, because this time, he felt like he was the one that couldn’t look Megumi in the eyes.

 

“I remember then when we found out you’ve been training Itadori secretly for a month. When you both visited me in my room, I could see the chemistry. You got along so well, and in only a month Itadori became a person that surpassed me who had been taught by you for almost a decade,” he choked up, but he wasn’t going to cry. He shed enough tears for tonight. But he smiled, an empty little one. “Every time I thought I was beginning to get even a little bit closer to you, sensei, someone else would always step in right in front of me. So at that moment I decided that… It was enough. I did all that I could, and it was evident I wasn’t cut out for it. So I stopped trying to catch up.”

 

Gojo reached out, caressing Megumi’s soft cheek, pink and raw from tears, turning his face towards his own. “You were afraid I would give up on you?”

 

Megumi reached up, palming the hand against his cheek. “I was afraid that another person I cared about… Was gonna leave me.”

 

“Megumi,” his hand slid down to Megumi’s neck, thumb stroking the very edge of his jaw. “I wanna tell you that you underestimate yourself, and you do. But I can’t blame you for thinking the way that you did.” He sighed, dropping his hand down, but Megumi’s followed, not letting go. “When I met you, I knew you had a hard shell for such a young kid. And I knew you were only defending yourself because the people that should’ve been there taking care of you weren’t.”

 

Megumi’s eyes looked deeper into his, that once dull look Gojo had caught that day beginning to clear up, back into something brighter.

 

“I didn’t want you to grow up thinking your only worth was to get as strong as me. I wanted you to learn that you were already worth it, why I took you in in the first place, that you could learn to trust me and trust your friends I knew you would make, to get strong together.”

 

And once again, in that moment, like the ones before, Gojo had placed another cog in Megumi’s wheel. He reached up, playing with the strands of Megumi’s hair with fondness.

 

“People are gonna come and go all throughout your life. It’s your responsibility to work with them while they’re here, because you never know when they’re not. But just know this, Megumi,” he held up both of Megumi’s hands with a warm, firm hold, up to his own beating chest. “You were always the one with the most special place in my heart.”

 

For once in his life Megumi felt a spine tingling sensation up his back. His cheeks heated like hot sand, his heart thrumming in his ears as he flattened his hands against Gojo’s chest, feeling the closest thing to his soul.

 

“That day when I came to you with a cupcake,” he went on, “I was a walking shell. And I was convinced at that time that I might never feel human again, because what I did that day reminded me that in this lifetime, I was only just a weapon when the world needed me to be.” He flattened his hands against Megumi’s, pressing them firmly to make sure the boy felt each and every beat in his chest. “But it was the sound of your heart that put me to sleep that day. It was your hands in my hair, your warmth when I was cold. You didn’t ask what happened or why I hadn’t been showing up. You just held me because you knew I needed it, and God, I needed it. You made me feel like a boy again.”

 

Gojo’s arms, so safe, warm and big, wrapped around Megumi’s shoulders, lips ghosting over the boys ear.

 

“I just want you to trust me and lean on me the way I do you, Megumi.”

 

And Megumi’s world exploded in pink. It was always the way his name rolled off the man’s tongue like that, so smooth and deep, like the way espresso smells. It was the way that in the end he provided his sensei with something important, that he kept his sensei’s heart warm. He was convinced he melted, only being held up by Gojo’s arms, eyes lidded as he stared off into space where his mind was, with three words ready to dive off the tip of his tongue.

 

“Now come on,” he pulled off and patted Megumi’s arms. “Get dressed and get some sleep now, kay?”

 

And then he was up and already out of the room. Megumi tried to grab him, stop him from leaving, but was stunned at the same time and couldn’t say a word.

 

Wait… Was that it?

 

It took Megumi a couple minutes of staring off at the wall before he ultimately changed into the t-shirt and sweatpants he was given. It sounded like Gojo had filled himself a cup of water and settled on the couch, probably scrolling through his phone. Was he just gonna be there all night?

 

Megumi tried settling into the bed, laying there waiting for sleep to take him. But time went by and Megumi’s mind was still frozen in place. So what happens after today? There’s no way they just expect Megumi to just attend class and go on missions like he didn’t just pour his heart out for the first time in his life.

 

And Megumi’s body, it was still warm. It still felt like his heartbeat was pulsing through his entire being. Mentally he feels clearer than he’s had in years, but yet he just doesn’t feel satisfied. And Gojo has shared his heart with Megumi, laying his warm soul in Megumi’s palm, but it still felt like there was something he was hiding. He hadn’t responded to Megumi’s feelings.

 

He kicked the blanket off, tip toeing to the bedroom door. He peaked out into the hallway, catching a glimpse of Gojo sitting on the couch with a mug in his hand and his phone in the other. Megumi bit his lip, toeing back to the bed and sitting in the center.

 

“Gojo-sensei,” he called out.

 

Gojo let out an audible hum, but Megumi didn’t respond to it before the man decided to get up and check on him. He stopped at the doorway, seemingly not intending to come in further than that. “What is it, Megumi?”

 

Ahh, his voice was so tender and beautiful, with that undertone of care. Megumi just wanted to wrap that voice around himself like infinity.

 

He hiked the blanket higher up his lap, playing innocent. “I can’t sleep.” It was the truth, after all.

 

Gojo just stared, eyeing him like he was trying to decipher something in those eyes, but in the end he gave in and stepped in the room, sitting back down on the edge of the bed like he did earlier. He placed his hand on Megumi’s lap, on a safe spot closer to his knee. “What can I do to help?”

 

He looked down at Gojo’s hand, and back up again. “Will you sleep next to me?”

 

Gojo just looked at him before nodding mindlessly, then putting more effort into it. “Alright, I will. Just get some sleep and I’ll come in a bit.” He was about ready to get back up before his wrist was tugged on.

 

“No, now,”

 

He sighed like he was dealing with a little kid. “Megumi-”

 

“Please, sensei, I don’t wanna be alone tonight. Not right now.”

 

And who was Gojo to deny his blessing?

 

“Alright, fine,” you win, “Let me just change and I’ll come join you,” he smiled assuringly.

 

He was finally let free to stand, digging through his drawers for something to change into before heading to the bathroom. Megumi’s cheeks heated at the bitter thought he briefly had at the fact Gojo went to change clothes in the bathroom, like it wasn’t so easy for him to undress completely at the ryokan back then. He finally laid back down, rubbing his cheeks on the blanket hiked halfway up his face to wash off his blush from such a shameless thought, even if it was for only a second.

 

Gojo finally stepped out, filling out his own clothes way more than Megumi does. He slid himself under the blanket, behind Megumi and facing his back. There was a bit of distance between them, and that just won’t do for Megumi. Gojo’s a fool if he doesn't already know what Megumi wants, so he reached behind himself for the mans hand, tugging it to wrap around his waist. Gojo was a bit far off, hesitantly it seemed he finally scooted closer, almost spooning Megumi.

 

The boy sighed blissfully, leaning himself back further to settle closer against Gojo’s chest. Megumi doesn’t know why Gojo’s acting so stiff tonight, it’s not like this is something they haven’t done before. But he doesn’t seem uncomfortable either, deciding to finally settle comfortably with his arm on Megumi’s waist, minutely hugging the boy closer.

 

It’s been so, so long since Megumi’s been held. Just the feeling of Gojo against his back, of finally another persons touch, Gojo’s touch, had the skin on his back tingling comfortably. This must be the closest feeling to ascension.

 

“Sensei,” he whispered.

 

Gojo hummed tiredly behind him, so Megumi turned to face him with his arm still around his waist. It’s like every time they’re in this bed, someone is preventing the other from falling asleep.

 

“Do you love me?”

 

Gojo’s eyes opened smoothly. “Of course I love you.”

 

Megumi tightened his lips. That’s not the answer he’s looking for.

 

“No,” he brought his face a breath closer. “I mean, do you love me?”

 

Gojo wasn’t clueless to think he didn’t know what Megumi meant the first time, and even if his eyes on Megumi were unwavering, it seemed like he was the one cornered. “Megumi, not now.”

 

“It’s a yes or no question, sensei,” he rose on his elbow, but not backing up. “If you say no then I promise to move on, I won’t let it affect me.”

 

Gojo sighed exasperatedly, rubbing his hand over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“So… It’s a no, then?”

 

Gojo stilled. There was no answer. A response to a no should be simple, right? He could easily confirm it with a nod, or an apologetic look in his eyes. So then why did Gojo look like Megumi said something almost offensive.

 

Megumi doesn’t know what came over him in that moment, but all he knew was there was a deep ache in his bones that came from somewhere other than just his heart, and if he didn’t act on it then he might just combust. “Or maybe,” he dragged a leg over Gojo’s waist, now laying on top of him. Gojo’s breath hitched, his hands gripping Megumi’s hips tightly to hold him in place from moving around any further. “Your lack of denial means you do.”

 

“Megumi, enough right now. Just get back to sleep.” But Gojo’s voice sounded tense, and the grip on his hands hadn’t loosened.

 

Megumi leaned down, the tip of his nose against Gojo’s. He paused, taking in the moment and the faint scent of toothpaste from the affected breathing of the other grazing his face. “Sensei, can we…?”

 

And again, no answer. Gojo gulped, his blue eyes giving him the answer he needed. So he leans down, not stealing a kiss, but taking the one Gojo hesitantly, yet wordlessly lets him. So they kiss like that, measured, exchanging pecks with Megumi soon melting on top of Gojo’s firm body, and Gojo’s hands moving from his hips to gently cradling his sides. He uses this opportunity to slide Megumi’s lax form back onto his side on the bed, landing on his soft pillow, offering one last deep kiss before backing away. Megumi’s arms shoot around Gojo’s neck, but not strong enough to pull him back in, breathing heavily like a few kisses from the man just moved his world.

 

Megumi’s eyes looked up at him pleadingly, sparkling so beautifully. He wanted more, of course he does, all red faced and breath fanning softly over Gojo’s cheeks. So worked up just from some pecks, God.

 

“Do you kiss all your dates like this?”

 

Gojo’s eyebrow quirked up, hand still resting on Megumi’s side. “Like what?”

 

“Like you love kissing them?”

 

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. “So you were jealous?”

 

Megumi pouted, eyebrows shooting down angrily. Yeah, he might be upset and serious right now, but he looked too damn cute.

 

“Oh Megumi, come on. What, did you really want me to put my hands on a 14 year old?” he still had that smile, leaning his head on his shoulder playfully.

 

Now Megumi’s eyebrow was the one that quirked, smile threatening to tug at his lips. “I never said anything about when I was 14, though.”

 

And if Gojo had a clock, it would be ticking loudly in this deafening silence.

 

Megumi truly wanted to, for the first time in weeks, giggle lightheartedly at the stillness of what he assumes is catching Gojo red handed about something. He definitely should question such a statement, wants to dig deeper into what Gojo meant by that, but even more than that Megumi still feels a swarm of birds and butterflies threatening to mess around in his stomach and chest, and his lips are tingling for more.

 

Megumi has never kissed anyone before until today, obviously. But the soft smooth way their damp lips peel apart, the noises of their mouths, the smell of Gojo’s skin and breath so up close, the attempt to suppress a whimper, Megumi wants more.

 

Megumi cups his warm palm over the larger one still lingering on his side, sliding both hands up against his own body, stroking the contours of his ribs and landing on his chest. He presses the hand under his in a light squeeze, allowing Gojo to grope, like the man needs convincing that this is what Megumi wants. Gojo shows no reaction, like he’s frozen in place, like he’s studying Megumi’s own reactions, who lets out the faintest meek hum at the way Gojo’s one hand covers the entirety of half his chest.

 

“The first night I stayed here at your place, sensei, I tried hard not to think about you out there, holding and touching a woman the way… The way I wished you’d touch me,” he squeezed one more time, making Gojo feel him, stroking his fingers over the mans hard knuckles. “I was ashamed at myself, thinking I had the right to feel jealous. To lust over you, the one who’s watched over me for years like a father figure should.”

 

And Gojo, he really was frozen in time. He didn’t move, he didn’t blush, he didn’t look startled. He just listened to it all.

 

“I felt like I was intruding on your night. And worst of all, I upset myself when you held me, knowing you were embracing another woman similarly not long before. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t truly feel this way, sensei,” Megumi’s hand stroked up Gojo’s forearm, up his bicep, wrapping once again around his neck. “Please, touch me the same way you touch your dates. I wanna know what it feels like, too.”

 

And Gojo, he looked down, at his palm still resting over Megumi’s breast. He made a move of stroking his thumb over the boys still smooth nipple, which soon started to rise along with Megumi’s reactions, pressing his chest harder against Gojo’s hand with a needy whimper.

 

“Oh, Megumi,” and despite how still and unmoving Gojo’s face appeared, his voice came out almost winded. He pressed his thumb in more, moving in circles against Megumi’s hardened nub. “I wouldn’t just touch you like some nobody. I’d cherish you.”

 

And finally, finding his strength in the midst of feeling vulnerable, of wanting to fully submit to the man above him, he pulled Gojo in closer with the hands around his neck, getting the top and bottom of their lips to brush. But it’s not like he had to pull, because it almost seemed like Gojo himself was pulling himself in too.

 

“Then cherish me,” he whispered. And that breathy neediness, the most beautiful sensual sound Gojo’s ever heard, it wrapped around his very brain.

 

He pushed forward, closing the gap with a deep press, a deep inhale, swallowing all of Megumi.

 

The room resounded with the sounds of Megumi’s gasp, the sheets moving from Megumi squeezing his own thighs together, and the wet clicks of their mouths. Gojo had both hands braced on either side of Megumi, close to pinning him against the bed. It seemed less like avoiding to touch, and more akin to Gojo holding back with whatever reasoning he had left in his head.

 

“We really shouldn't be-," kiss. “Megumi, you’re still-,” kiss, kiss, “I raised you.”

 

And God, Megumi moaned at that. He always thought it was wrong to lust over this man who was almost double his age, the man that raised him since he was still in single digits while Gojo was already in his 20’s. The man that paid for food on his plate, visited his teachers in school, and gave him a roof over his head. But it’s precisely for those reasons Megumi finds the heat between his legs unbearable, rubbing his thighs together to stave off the orgasm bubbling. He’s a touch starved virgin and he’s kissing the man he’s deeply in love with in his bed, sue him.

 

Gojo, at the pretense of being the responsible adult here, of keeping his hands off his ward, his boy, just snaps at the sound.

 

He can’t hold back anymore when he licks into Megumi’s mouth, the boy jumping with a gasp, but immediately reciprocating. Megumi might, definitely, not know what he’s doing, kissing back with tongue, but his desperation—his sweet needy dove—is licking back with no tact, and Megumi’s enthusiastic inexperience is driving him mad with lust.

 

Megumi swipes his tongue against Gojo’s, tasting him and swallowing it down. His little cock is jumping under his sweats, leaking against his skin under his clothes. The longer they kiss like that, tongues swiping and rubbing against each other to taste, the excess drool Megumi can’t swallow down starts building up, dripping down from the corner of his mouth. Gojo faintly notices, swiping it clean with his thumb before it ultimately builds up and drips again, down the boys jaw.

 

Gojo’s leg hikes up a tad, almost between Megumi’s thighs, almost touching where he’s hot and desperate the most and please, please, please, closer, just a touch, just a little, pleaseeeee.

 

As Megumi goes to lick back into Gojo’s mouth like he’s been doing for God knows how long they’ve been going at each other, his tongue gets caught between two lips, and Gojo sucks down his tongue as deep as he can go, drawing back to near the tip and then down again, sucking off Megumi’s tongue and oh God, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

 

Megumi cums just like that, arching his back with the loudest whine he’s ever made, untouched, with only Gojo’s mouth completely working his brain to mush.

 

Gojo releases his tongue with a pop, pink and wet and still hanging out of his mouth as he’s left panting in a daze with stars in his eyes, twitching involuntarily, a deep flush bleeding from his face down below the hem of his collar. He watches Megumi’s blissed out face, eyes unfocused and heavily lidded, swaying like he’s counting the stars twirling above his head. He gently pushes the blanket off, watching the large wet patch soaking into his sweatpants that Megumi is wearing, that Megumi just came in.

 

“Shit,” he’s breathless now, almost as heavy as Megumi was. Gojo was in no way so easily affected by teasing or a little bit of foreplay, having a handful of experience and thoroughly enjoying picking apart his partners in the past. But Megumi, oh Megumi, fuck, he was a work of art. Gojo hasn’t felt this heavily affected so early in the night since he himself was still a virgin and new. His own arousal was sitting hot and heavy against his thigh under his own sweatpants. But for right now, despite how worked up he himself was getting, he focused on leaning down and kissing Megumi on his cheek, soft gentle pecks, asking him if he was okay.

 

In his haze, he still turned his head to face Gojo, attempting to get one of Gojo’s pecks to land on his lips again. But Gojo knew better, avoiding his wet sensitive little lips until Megumi could orient himself. Megumi still whined at the miss, and Gojo couldn’t help a smirk.

 

Megumi held Gojo’s hand, urging it down towards the mess in his pants. Gojo could read the room, his sweet Megumi so pent up with lust and yet had the audacity to still act shy, trying to get Gojo to take off his pants for him. So that’s what he did, lifting the hem of the sweatpants with a single finger, pulling it up to see the mess smothering over Megumi’s pubic mound, soaking into the thin wispy hairs there. Gojo couldn’t contain his groan at the sight, deep and rumbling out of him, and Megumi keened at the effect he was having on his sensei, reaching up to stroke the mans jaw, and higher to stroke at the buzzed hair on Gojo’s nape as they both took in the sight of Megumi’s mess.

 

He pulls the sweatpants down farther, stopping mid thigh, reaching for Megumi’s wet and softening cock and giving it an experimental stroke. Megumi whimpered painfully, holding still Gojo’s wrist in oversensitivity. Gojo relented, not wanting to overwhelm the boy. He said he’d cherish him and by God he was going to take his time.

 

In the midst of being toyed with, Megumi caught sight of Gojo’s maddening size swelling under his own clothes. If possible, he felt his pupils take on the shape of a heart. Heat returned to his cheeks at an alarming rate, unable to stop himself from reaching down and palming at the hard heat there.

 

“Sensei, too,” he looked at him with those alluring eyes. Gojo held that gaze with heavy lust, keeping their eyes locked as he joined his hand with Megumi’s, pressing Megumi’s palm firmer against himself. Gojo let go then, but continued to rut forward signaling Megumi to keep palming him as he reached to soak his fingers in the mess cooling against Megumi’s skin. Megumi peaked down at Gojo tracing his finger in his cum, arousal growing under his skin again and locking eyes with a new heat.

 

“Put it in,” he pleaded.

 

Gojo stuttered in his movement, caught for a moment.

 

Megumi started working the sweatpants down his legs with his own feet, desperate to kick them off and at the very least free one ankle. “Please, sensei,” he breathed heavily. He reached for his knee, holding it up to spread his legs further. “Put it in,” he ghosted his lips under Gojo’s chin, “I can take it.”

 

Gojo’s own heart hammered loudly in his ears, closing his eyes tightly and dropping his face into Megumi’s shoulder. He cupped Megumi’s entire sex, giving it a squeeze like he was trying to claim it, like he couldn’t hold back in this very moment, grounding himself. The possessiveness, the way he fit perfectly in Gojo’s hand, had Megumi near sobbing.

 

He sucked marks into Megumi’s collarbone, reaching lower, massaging firmly in circles against Megumi’s taint. The boy arched, whimpering at the feeling. It was new, different, but it felt so good. Gojo’s firm press right there, giving Megumi a deep rooted pleasure within. It didn’t take long for him to finally reach the small little rim of Megumi’s hole, circling it wetly. Megumi moaned desperately, Gojo’s hands finally on him. It’s not that the sensation itself was all that good, but the fact it was Gojo touching him there, softening the tight rim that had him hardening again quickly.

 

Gojo pulled back up to scoop more of Megumi’s cum onto his finger, reaching back and popping the tip of it into the hole. Megumi gasped, fingers tangling in Gojo’s white hair as he moved higher to Megumi’s neck now, sucking and licking the skin as his finger slowly sunk in further. It was only one, and Megumi has experimented with a finger before, so it didn’t burn, and he stretched around that single digit easily.

 

There wasn’t much to go off of with that single finger working in and out of him languidly, but it was the anticipation of more that was working him up. Eventually, Gojo teased a second finger in when he felt Megumi’s hole could take it. That’s when he groaned, that’s when he could feel a burn. But Megumi had been through worse than a little stretch, and the desperation would’ve had him ignoring it and adding a third almost immediately if he had control over the situation right now. But in this moment, it was Gojo who had the reins, and letting go completely and letting Gojo take over his own body and pleasure worked him up better than he ever could by himself.

 

“I always imagined this,” he panted softly.

 

“What is it?” He asked into Megumi’s neck.

 

“I tried a finger before, imagining it was yours,” he was gyrating his hips now, working those two fingers deeper. “But I couldn’t make myself feel good, so I–Ah!” those digits seemed to finally have nudged into a sweet spot. “I–... nngh…. Touched myself, and sensei,”

 

Gojo was losing himself, replying with a deep, bated hm? Eyebrows furrowed deeply and reaching for Megumi’s ear lobe with his lips.

 

“It was the first time I came while saying your name,” he whispered like a secret.

 

“Fuck,” he shoved a third finger in, reaching in deeply to his knuckles to hither at that spongy spot inside Megumi, having the boy cry out at both the stretch and pleasure. “Megumi, you’re killing me. You’re fucking killing me”

 

Megumi’s other hand wrapped around Gojo’s wrist, like he was trying to push him deeper inside. His hips couldn’t keep still, hitching back and forth against the onslaught on his prostate. He asked for this, and continued asking for more, but his virginal body was quickly becoming undone. He chubbed up again in no time at all, twitching and drooling over his hip.

 

Megumi, lost in the heat of the moment, couldn’t take the mouthwatering sight any longer, reaching into Gojo’s waistband and gripping his heavy length. A breath was punched out of Gojo as Megumi finally pulled it out of the confines of his pants, throbbing and radiating with a dense heat. It was long, of course it was, but it was especially thick. Of course Gojo Satoru, born of absolute perfection, would be perfect down here too.

 

He gave Gojo’s length a tentative stroke, eventually gaining a smooth rhythm. Gojo groaned, lips directly against Megumi’s ear, and Megumi’s spine tingled, eyes fluttering shut.

 

“I’m trying to be good, Megumi. I’m trying to hold back.” He was panting.

 

“Even now, nnh, even when your fingers are already inside me?”

 

Gojo bucked languidly into Megumi’s own hand, working him harder than he already was. “I wanted to be a good guardian, wanted to take care of you, watch you grow up right… But then…”

 

“Then what?” he faced, planting a featherlight wet kiss against the side of Gojo’s nose bridge. “What did you say again, about me being 14?”

 

Gojo whined pathetically himself this time, fingers digging deeper into Megumi’s hole and thumb stroking around the sensitive stretched skin around his fingers.

 

“I…” Well, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “That night when you were acting strange after my date, I thought there was no way you could be jealous, that just seemed so out of the question,” Megumi planted another wet kiss to his cheek, tongue catching on the salty skin. He felt like he was vibrating under his skin at the mans fingers working him open, his own hand feeling Gojo throb in arousal, and the anticipation of hanging off of Gojo’s words. “Then next time I was on a date, it was a girl with short black hair,” he gulped, heart clenching in suspense at his own words. “She was on her stomach, and I just, hah, for some reason I remembered you acting jealous like that, and I…” His pinky teased at the edge of Megumi’s rim, threatening to join the rest and stretch him further. “I felt like a sick man when I ended up fucking her harder…”

 

Megumi’s free hand clasped around his own mouth, holding back the loud whine on the edge of his lips, shaking and throwing his head back. His cock jumped higher than it did all night, all his life. Gojo thought about him like that, he thought about Megumi during sex, even for just a moment. Arousal pulsed throughout his body like a state of rubatosis under his thin skin.

 

“I was an awful man to think about you like that back then, Megumi. So I stopped it, just like I’m trying to stop now. I don’t wanna ruin you, but, I’m already…”

 

Megumi’s precum dripped freely, joining the cooling sperm on his skin. It flooded his navel, so turned on from Gojo’s words, his breath, his skin, his taste, his fingers prodding and poking at his prostate steadily. He let go of Gojo’s length, scooping up the mess collecting on his mound and lathering Gojo’s cock with it. The mans hips stuttered at the wet feeling, groaning deep. Megumi rolled to lay on his side, Gojo’s fingers slipping out of him, arching his back and urging his ass closer to Gojo’s tip.

 

“Sensei,” he was completely breathless. “Just like you imagined it, right now,” he urged.

 

Gojo watched the way Megumi’s shaky hands struggled to rub the tip of his cock against his puffing rim, so desperate to chase that he was fumbling. God, fuck it.

 

“Megumi,” he pulled the boys hand away from his cock, holding his wrist as he wrapped both arms around the boy, hugging him from behind. He scooted closer, properly spooning him now, tip pushing against Megumi’s taint. “I said I was going to cherish you, so let me do just that.”

 

He thrust forward, rubbing between Megumi’s thighs. That’s not what Megumi wanted, he wanted Gojo inside of him now, craving so bad for something he doesn’t even know feels like. But it didn’t matter what it felt like, he wanted it, and he whimpered low and cutely at the feeling of Gojo smearing that wetness between his thighs. He wanted to press his thighs together more firmly, make it feel good for the man, but Gojo stopped reacting as much, putting all his attention into kissing up Megumi’s neck and nibbling at his earlobe. Megumi hummed admirably, joining Gojo’s movements in meeting his slow thrusts, savoring this moment.

 

Gojo could’ve snapped. Megumi was so virginally desperate and it was so hot. But he needs to calm the boy down, take his time loving him if he was really going to do it. He wasn’t going to rush in and just devour him like that. He was going to take his time taking Megumi apart and back together again.

 

Once Megumi’s muscles went lax again, moaning softly and steadily, Gojo positioned himself, catching on that delicious rim that slowly stretched to take him in. Megumi whined, throwing his head back against Gojo from behind who continued to lick up and down the shell of his ear. He felt like his entire being was melting, Gojo’s heat carving into him so slow. It was hot, it was in his stomach, and it wasn’t even halfway in yet.

 

Gojo stilled his hips at Megumi’s puppy-like whimpers, kissing and nosing his ear more to distract him from the fullness and burn.

 

“You’re taking it so good, baby,” he whispered hotly, right there, right into Megumi’s brain and straight into his nerves. That name, baby, Megumi was dizzy.

 

He pushed forward, his tip nudging against Megumi’s prostate on the way in. Megumi twitched at the first contact, electricity shooting up his back. But as Gojo kept onward, his entire length rubbing smoothly against his bundle all the way to the hilt, that electricity shifted into a deep constant hum over his nerves.

 

He bottomed out, savoring Megumi’s walls pulsing around him, so hot and smooth. Megumi was panting, calming down little by little as he took in Gojo himself, throbbing in him.

 

After a minute, Gojo began pulling out slowly, and Megumi’s heart lurched at knowing they were about to start. When he dragged back in, smoother and quicker than the first time, Megumi couldn’t hold back the little ah that escaped him, that delicious drag on his prostate more purposeful. It didn’t take long for Gojo to start up a rhythm so good Megumi couldn’t stop the little punched out noises each and every time Gojo bucked his hips against his ass. Those noises, they were music in this hazy space.

 

Gojo picked up the momentum, tongue wet and loud against the ridges and shell all over Megumi’s ear. Megumi moaned against a specific squelching swipe over the entirety, nerves shot and heart in his throat. He didn’t know what sensation to focus on more, the deep delicious knocking against his now desperately throbbing prostate, or the spine tingling sensation of Gojo’s wide and wet tongue eating out, what felt like, his brain with the noises alone. He really was being brainfucked.

 

He was held securely against the larger body behind him, precum leaking and soaking continuously into the sheets under him. He was a drooling mess, and he couldn’t tell you from where. His cock, his mouth, his eyes. He was feeling, so much, everywhere all at once. But it wasn’t overwhelming, it wasn’t too much—it was a build up and it was eating him from the inside out and he never knew he could ever feel this good in his entire life.

 

Gojo started lapping at the skin below Megumi’s ear, getting him wet, back behind his nape. He was like a cat, licking and grooming him behind his neck and even at the hairs on his nape. He nibbled and sucked and swiped his tongue relentlessly, and Megumi was getting a little ticklish in a strangely arousing way, tingles down his spine. He leaned closer again, back up to the boys ear, nibbling softly on Megumi’s tragus.

 

“Sensei! Ahhh, sensei, s-so good, so… hnnn!” He reached back holding against Gojo’s hip, against the thrusts beating away every bit of sense and coherent thought in his mind, but he wasn’t trying to stop it. He was close, and he’s never felt a building orgasm such as this. It wasn’t just a tension building up in and around his groin—this sensation was crawling up his back, up to his shoulders, his elbows, his fingertips. And it reached down from his knees to his toes. This was gonna be an explosion, and his lungs felt squeezed tight from how much he was panting. So good, God it’s so good, please, make me cum, make me, make me!

 

“Mmh… Megumi,” his tongue dipped inside Megumi’s ear, and he was done for.

 

Megumi absolutely exploded, mind and all, shooting thick heavy ropes of cum all over the sheets in front of him, cumming so hard he made no sound at all.

 

He locked up, mouth open and drooling, tensing as Gojo held him close before working him through his orgasm that squeezed Gojo’s cock tight. After the peak subsided, Megumi took in a heavy gasp of air, twitching and whining and absolutely sobbing as Gojo continued to grind the aftershocks out of him. He finally left his ear alone, the spit now leaving it cool.

 

Megumi’s breathing gradually began to steady, the occasional twitch of his body still lingering in his nerves. Gojo was kissing lovingly behind his neck and head. Megumi reached behind weakly, stroking Gojo’s hair in return, scratching gently with blunt nails against the mans scalp. Gojo groaned in appreciation.

 

Megumi looked back, missing Gojo’s face. What Gojo could see from this angle was Megumi’s mossy green eye, lidded and soft, sparkling with tears and a weakness that wasn’t like the kind Megumi tore himself up about being. It was a submission, a hand reaching for Gojo, giving himself to the man to embrace. It was trusting, it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

 

“Gojo-san…”

 

“Yes, Megumi?” Their voices matched each others gentle air.

 

“I love you…so much.”

 

Gojo sighed, like a fog has cleared. He leaned, kissing Megumi long and deep on the lips. It wasn’t like before with the occasional pecks, and no tongue. It was just a long press of lips, feeling, connecting.

 

Gojo’s hand pressed against the skin under Megumi’s navel, rubbing in slow deep circles. Megumi keened, breaking the kiss before Gojo connected it again. He rolled them over, laying on top of Megumi, but their faces stayed close, lips brushing and breath mingling.

 

“Never think for a second that anyone could ever get between us, to mean more to me than you,”

 

He began thrusting again, smooth and steady. Megumi arched beautifully with a high whine, and the world turned rose tinted. His spine tingled at those words, all oversensitivity melting into a deep hum again. His body was pressed deliciously against the wet mess he made on the sheets below him, his arousal sparking back to life.

 

“You’ll always be the closest one by my side. I’ll always take care of you, you’ll always be mine,”

 

All too quickly, Megumi’s orgasm began to bubble up again, tears rolling down his rosy cheeks. Gojo’s pace was quickening, and Megumi’s docile body took it all, took everything Gojo gave him. He always would. He tried to aim for a kiss, but his lips wouldn’t stop spilling moans and the occasional sob.

 

“I love you more than anything, Megumi.”

 

He finally reconnected their lips with a lick, and Megumi saw stars explode. He came onto the already pooling spent beneath him, making a deeper mess into Gojo’s expensive sheets and mattress. Oh, did Megumi’s hole grip him so beautifully, so gorgeous, it had Gojo finally spilling inside the boy, a sonorous moan escaping, his own nerves firing up his spine like never before. Even losing his virginity never felt this good. And he knows, nothing will ever be as good as Megumi.

 

Some time has passed, basking in the shared afterglow when Gojo finally decides to roll off of Megumi, not wanting to continue crushing the boy. But Megumi, oh the sweet boy, he whined at the loss. Even when Gojo pulled out of his sensitive hole it had less of a reaction than the man peeling his larger, warm body off of his back.

 

“Megumi, baby,” he stroked Megumi’s hair out of his face. “Let’s go wash up, c’mon.”

 

All Megumi could manage was a weak hum into the pillow, completely spent and wrung dry. Gojo chuckled. He decided to get up first and help his sweet boy, picking him up bridal style. Megumi squeaked, weakly wrapping his arms around Gojo’s neck.

 

Gojo walked them to the bathroom, setting the boy down on the floor in front of the toilet. But Megumi, bless him, his legs couldn’t hold, and he almost dropped to the floor before Gojo caught him and sat him down gently on the seat. Of course Megumi felt entirely like jello, like he’s never felt before, completely different from the way he would after rigorous training. But he didn’t imagine losing control of his legs. It felt good though.

 

Gojo took off both of their shirts and wiped himself down quickly before using a fresh wet towel to wipe Megumi down next. He helped scoop out and wipe his dripping cum from Megumi’s hole, directly into the toilet, and Megumi whined in both sensitivity and loss. He wanted to keep it in, soak it into his body forever.

 

“Don’t worry, Megumi. There’ll be more where that came from.”

 

Megumi reddens completely, not dawning on him the fact that… They’d be doing this again… And maybe again, and again, and-..

 

Gojo picks him back up, and Megumi squeaks again, not getting used to being lifted like this. Once they make it back towards Gojo’s bed, they both pause and stare. Half of it, well, it was a soaked mess. Megumi groaned, utterly embarrassed, covering his eyes with his hand, and Gojo just laughs. Of course he would.

 

He was still in Gojo’s arms, so the man just turned and aimed down the hall, walking into the guest bedroom. Gojo, with one arm, easily pulls back the tightly tucked in sheets like nothing, laying Megumi down and covering him up. Megumi leans up when it almost looks like Gojo was gonna head out, until he notices him corner to the other side of the bed and tucking himself in as well. It was a tight fit, but that was exactly what Gojo seemed to enjoy as he pulled Megumi against his chest, facing each other.

 

“Sleep well, Megumi,” he places a tender kiss just above Megumi’s forehead, tucking the boys head under his chin and settling comfortably.

 

Megumi’s fingers twiddled shyly, stroking down the mans collarbone, stopping just above his chest. He finally closed his own eyes, settling in as well. “Goodnight, Gojo-san.”

 

And like that, they fell asleep like they did before; On a small bed only they’ve lied in, sharing warmth, sharing a heartbeat.

 

 

——

 

 

“And with that,” clap clap! “Class is dismissed~!”

 

Nobara yippies aloud, free of missions for the day as well and announcing her plans of going shopping. Yuji excitedly joins in, asking if he could tag along if she’d go watch a movie with him. Of course she wouldn’t say no to a shopping bag ox following her around, but she makes Yuji promise the movie better be worth it.

 

“You coming, Fushiguro?” Yuji beams.

 

They both turn, looking onto the black haired boy still sitting at his desk, packing his belongings leisurely.

 

“Sure,” is all he says

 

Yuji exclaims excitedly, fist bumping the air, and Nobara is already planning on where they should eat for lunch as they all make their way to the door.

 

“Megumi, before you go, let me have a word with you,” their sensei calls out, leaning back casually against his seat. Nobara is already out of the room, but Yuji’s eyes shift between his friend and teacher. Gojo’s smile widens in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry, Yuji, it’s just gonna be a friendly, quick chat.”

 

Yuji nods, allowing himself to trust them. It seems whatever happened, Gojo took care of it after all like he said, because Megumi was back to normal like nothing. As expected, they knew each other like the back of their hands. Yuji can’t help a small smile as he heads out. Now that the two are alone, Gojo gestures for Megumi to close the door. Once the door is slid shut, and they’re sure the other two are far enough away, Megumi fixes his meek gaze on Gojo, biting his lip.

 

“Come here,” he beckons for Megumi with his fingers, with the hand still rested on his own knee. He’s the spitting image of laid back confidence.

 

And Megumi, naturally, gravitates to him. He tries to keep his breathing casual, but of course it’s no use, already coming out unsteadily as his face pinkens. Once he’s close enough, Gojo reaches out, pulling the boy onto his lap.

 

“Sensei,” he breathes weakly, already so docile and all they did was finally be alone together. Gojo strokes his bottom lip, fingers running through his hair to the back of his head, and pulls him into a sweet but deep kiss. When they pull apart, it takes a second for Megumi to remember to blink his eyes open.

 

“I’ll be busy again, today. I think one more kiss should get me through it, though,” he pulls his blindfold down.

 

Gojo’s hands rest on Megumi’s flanks, making no move to take the kiss himself. Megumi wraps his arms around the mans neck, pressing forward to kiss Gojo deeply himself. He gives Gojo an enthusiastic deep kiss to get him through his day, then one more for Megumi himself, then a couple extra for good luck. Gojo chuckles, finally pulling Megumi back enough to break the kiss, because the boy would go at it for an hour if he could.

 

“Alright, they’re waiting for you,” his hands stroke up and down Megumi’s sides, curving at the slope of his beautifully little waist.

 

Megumi’s lashes flutter, sighing at the pain of having to separate from Gojo, but also at being in his arms in this moment. He leans closer, foreheads bumping, blue eyes gazing into green, like the ocean caressing earths shore.

 

“I love you, Gojo-san,” he whispers for only them to hear.

 

“I love you more, Megumi.”

 

Notes:

AND THEN SHIBUYA AND SHINJUKU NEVER HAPPEN AND THEY GET MARRIED AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER <333

please i would really love and appreciate all comments! i'd love to know what you guys think :3