Chapter Text
I can’t fall back asleep. The rising sun implies the early hour, but instead of checking the time or rousing myself, I wait patiently for my usual cue, which I hope is sooner than later because I’ve tried and failed to fall back to sleep.
With a deep frown, I burden myself with a problem so minute. Replaying yesterday's events, I agonize over the truth of Kugisaki’s words. She promised that Megumi likes-likes Okkotsu, that their affair is definitely one-sided, and that this somehow works in my favor.
Her reassurance did ease me into a restful slumber, but since I've awoken, I worry she was just telling me what I wanted to hear so I wouldn’t further dishearten over Megumi. And even if that wasn’t her intention, I prematurely accepted her truth like she was the keeper of all knowledge.
I hate overthinking, which is probably why I chose to believe Kugisaki. So now I wonder if my stupidity plays a role in my inability to charm my brilliant crush.
Could Megumi settle for anyone so slow-witted? I sigh at my dim ceiling, “maybe I’m not the one who can satisfy him,” I hum quietly aloud.
Knock, knock.
That’s my cue! Jumping out of bed, I’m like a depressed dog celebrating my master’s long-awaited return. And talk about a simple mind; my previous doubt and stress dissipate into the new morning air, and I’m too excited for the signal officially starting my day.
What’s curious is I was already awake, yet I barely heard that. Are his knocks usually so silent? It’s surprising since I could sleep soundly with a running chainsaw beside my ear, but his gentle knocks wake me each morning.
I can’t help but smile as I romanticize the possibility that even in my subconscious, I am perfectly observant of Megumi’s slightest behavior.
Throwing on a shirt and sweats, I ready myself haphazardly to quickly begin my morning routine by Megumi’s side.
As always, I’m gonna be the first person to wish Megumi a good morning, I think as I burst into the bathroom. And as always, Megumi’s situated at the far left sink with his small array of exceptionally effective beauty products.
But my mood falters when I see the sink neighboring Megumi’s, misused by Okkotsu. Of course.
Both spare some attention at my intrusion, “Morning, Itadori,” Megumi’s first to greet. “Did you sleep well?” Okkotsu tacks on.
“Yeah, good morning, you two,” I politely reply, “thanks for waking me up again, Fushiguro,” I kindly convey, hoping Okkotsu understands that Megumi actively wants me a part of his mornings. Though, I realize my humiliation at the possibility of Megumi also inviting Okkotsu.
I can read Megumi’s slight confusion as he addresses my sudden thanks. But with pleasantries exchanged, they return to their previous conversation, leaving me to silently hope this guy clears my station before Megumi concludes his routine. I know Megumi's regimen better than mine, which was born to accommodate him.
Somehow but not coincidentally, Megumi’s and my mornings align perfectly, staring at him waking me. A task he initiated, claiming my sleeping in as long as possible stressed him out, and eventually, he pushed my wake-up call to the same time he was ready to leave his room.
And when we join each other in the bathroom, Panda’s still sleeping, and Inumaki’s meandering in his garden. So we could always count on an empty restroom, where we could recount any dreams or any genius ideas born late at night. But now, as Megumi’s washing his face, Okkotsu’s standing literally between our normalcy.
We should be rubbing products through our messy hair in unison, but Okkotsu’s showing off his new hair care techniques. I can vaguely hear him complain about how tangled and unruly his hair used to be, but peeking over, I can’t believe it was worse than his current greasy weasel look.
“I stocked up on these before I came. It’s all-natural and really helped tame my hair. Do you wanna try some?” he offers Megumi.
And I watch through a stressed side-eye while Megumi dips his fingers into Okkotsu’s goods. And he rolls it through his palms and over his head, causing his perfect hair to barely bounce back into its usual black barb. And I don’t care what anyone else says, but poor Megumi’s never had a bad hair day before Okkotsu’s sabotage.
He turns to me, politely offering me a try too. “Nah, I’m good; pomade works best for me. Thanks though!”
And as our past would dictate, my bathroom business finishes much earlier than Megumi, and we usually fill that time difference with small chats until we’re ready to progress to the cafeteria together.
But I feel awkward waiting while Okkotsu talks through Megumi’s skincare routine, even though he tries to include me in their conversation.
He’s explaining the plot of a book he’s read while overseas, which should feel inclusive as even Megumi hasn’t read it. But when it’s time to contribute, Megumi recalls similar themes in works by the same author, and I suddenly hate how Manga and comics are my closest equivalent. It’s just embarrassing.
This isn’t my finest social interaction, and I doubt I’ll recover, so I excuse myself and leave them to more developed conversations.
This sucks. In school, any in-depth exchange left people thoroughly annoyed or positively entertained, which is why I always had few long-term friendships. But that changed when I moved here, probably because these people are equally keyed-up, but Okkotsu’s back and with a coolness I can’t match.
Frowning through the halls, I make my way to the cafeteria. I didn’t get to tell Megumi about my shrimp dream, but maybe that’s for the best.
“Yo, wait up,” Megumi lazily calls behind me, stopping me in my tracks so he can leisurely catch up.
“Are you finished with your skincare,” I ask, knowing he wasn’t finished when I left, and he’s never bothered rushing it. He shakes his floppy head, “I ruined my routine when I used Okkotsu’s hair gel, so it doesn’t bother me to stop now,” he explains, playing with a limp spike.
“I guess that makes sense,” I agree, “but did you even have time to properly finish your conversation?” I wonder, looking back, I expect Okkotsu isn’t far behind, but Megumi reassures, “I gave him an eye bag patch, so he probably won’t be joining us for a while. And as for our conversation, he seemed surprised when I ended it, so it probably wasn't natural,” he says with a shrug, still I know he genuinely enjoyed talking and hearing about the books he loves with someone who wholly understands.
“What! Why? Are you avoiding him?” “No.” “Are you mad at him?” “No?”
“Fushiguro, shouldn’t you be wanting to spend more time with him? He returned just yesterday, and even then, you ditched him for Kugisaki and me. I thought you liked him?” I ask.
And he agrees, “I do like him…but it’s kinda your fault I left; we always get breakfast together, so my tummy growled when you left,” he idly blames.
“That’s not my fault! Are you a dog?!” I tease because Megumi would agree the comparison isn't derogatory, “That reason is terrible, but it can’t be helped,” I laugh with a natural hand on his back, herding him to the cafeteria as if he doesn’t know the way. And I can’t stop smiling because no matter his reason, he chose me.
“So, what are you hungry for? I can make you something if you’re not in the mood for cereal,” I’m happy to offer.
“I wouldn’t mind a warm breakfast. I’ll help prepare something if you don’t mind. Maybe pancakes?” Though he sounds dispassionate, I can doubtlessly tell his delight, so I nod with vigor, feeding off his feeling.
We’ve somehow concluded that the kitchen is my domain, so he awaits my instructions once we wash our hands. And my kitchen influence is so strong that I raise an apron with expectation, and he grumbles his complaints but obliges by presenting his lowered head, allowing me to bestow the garment like I’m crowning a king. He looks so cute! I internally squeal as he lets me tie the cords behind his back.
“Why don’t you get out all the ingredients and stuff, and I’ll take it from there,” I instruct.
“Then why am I wearing an apron,” he complains but obeys anyway.
Recently, I taught him my grampa’s pancake recipe, explaining how significant this secret recipe is to me. So he memorized it perfectly the first time we made it.
I watch as he rats around the kitchen to retrieve the necessities, and it’s silly to always praise his every movement, but I am impressed. Or enraptured, so instead of flattery, I watch him work with heartfelt admiration, which I know he realizes when he catches my eye, huffs, and turns his head to the floor as if I don’t know he’s blushing. I’m seriously hoping he believes friends gaze lovingly at each other, or I just made him incredibly uncomfortable.
I’m glad I’m able to share Wasuke’s recipe with Megumi. But Megumi’s not the greatest at actually cooking the pancakes; there are too many rookie mistakes that he has little patience for, so I take over once the kitchen is prepared.
“You can sit back and relax if you’d like. I’ll have food ready soon,” I promise, but Megumi’s exceptionally restless today, so he fishes through the kitchen to continue his help.
He brings his cutting board and ingredients to the right of my station, where I measure the batter. “Can we make enough for everyone,” he suggests, and I grant, “That’s a great idea; everyone's always extra lazy Monday mornings but should get them out of bed.” I double back to triple my measurements.
We have every burner burning as we work the stove, four pans between us. Mine are filled with pancakes while Megumi cooks up two giant omelets.
Sometimes we work in silence, appreciating the sizzle of pans, utensils clinking against bowls, and knives splitting vegetables, all in each other’s company. There’s an electric calm between us.
But I’m curious about what has Megumi in such a giving mood; we regularly feed the dorm, but Megumi’s usually an unwilling participant, so I ask, “What’s got you in such a good mood? You’re always so grumpy in the mornings,” I tease, and he smiles, “I guess I’m just happy the dorms are finally complete.”
That is such a sweet sentiment, and I hate how terrible it makes me feel, but now that I look down at our creations, I realize who it’s being made for. The thought makes my neck itchy, but I try not to squirm and instead smile.
But Megumi’s the most perceptive person I know, and reading me like a book, he pinches that plastered grin off my face, knowing, “You don’t like Okkotsu, do you?”
Waving my hands as if to dismiss the allegation, I disagree, “There’s nothing wrong with him! I’m just not used to him, that's all!”
Megumi questions me with a quirk on his brow, so I have to continue, and I’m physically unable to lie to him, so I divulge half the truth with an earlier example.
“Like when we were in the bathroom, I didn’t like that he took my spot,” I pout, but realize how immature I might sound. After all, our arrangement was never verbally established, so I safely backtracked, “but it’s not like I didn’t want him there! I’m happy to share. It’s just that I need to get used to him being around,” I try to reason.
My heart beats fast as he slowly thinks it over, but eventually, he nods, “It’s not like he knows our morning system, but you could’ve told him to move since it bothered you,” he points out like the option was obvious.
“I can’t just tell my upperclassman to relocate; it’s rude, and he was there first!”
Megumi shrugs, “So? I doubt he cares about seniority, and he would have moved no matter how you asked.”
Well, I am glad he’s at least understanding of the Okkotsu's dilemma I revealed, but isn’t he too biased in my favor?
“Yknow, Fushiguro? You seemed pretty excited about Okkotsu returning, but now it feels like you couldn’t care less. I thought you wanted all of us to get along?” Anyone would want their current friends to mix well with their closest friends.
“I wouldn’t mind if you don’t like him, I was just surprised since you’re friendly with everyone, but with him, I can tell you’re just being polite. But really, you can ignore formalities if you don’t feel it.”
“Fushiguro,” I whine, stressing again, “If you like him, I like him! It’s just weird having someone new here; this place is more like a home to me than a dorm. And honestly, I’m glad you’re understanding, but aren’t you being insensitive to him? I don’t want that,” I worry because I don’t want to ruin their friendship, just their potentially budding romance.
“I’m not being ‘insensitive,’ but do you really think I’m treating him poorly for you?” he asks, and my face heats at the accusation, but I can’t even deny it because it was true.
He continues, “We’re making everyone and his breakfast, and I welcomed him back more affectionately than necessary. On my part, that’s more than enough, I think. So if he wants to be friendly with me again, he’ll put in the extra effort; I need to get used to him again since he’s changed so much since leaving.”
“What do you mean, ‘get used to him’? Didn’t you stay in touch while he was overseas?”
“Well, hanging out in person and over the phone is completely different, so I didn’t bother.”
“Wow, you really are insensitive,” I realize, and he punches me in the shoulder to prove it. But I can’t stop smiling; there was a valid reason Megumi never bothered sharing their bond with Kugisaki and me, which is because their friendship was put on hold. And this also means the gap between me and Okkotsu is much smaller than I expected.
I don’t even feel bad circling the conversation back to him, “So, you mentioned he’s different from when he left. Did he change for the worse,” I hope, “since you are being mean to him.”
Megumi rolls his eyes but answers, “No. He’s definitely changed for the better; he’s less fidgety, and he’s calmed down a lot. Actually, now that you mentioned it, he’s grown too. Taller and broader,” he hums like he’s living a personal fantasy.
“Oh, that’s great.” I should have kept my stupid mouth shut. But why would Okkotsu have to re-prove himself if he’s the new and improved version of Megumi’s old beloved? That’s not fair. Seriously, how am I supposed to compete?
But all the time and always, Megumi and I move in unison, clicking off our respective stove tops and plating our meals on two giant platters we bring to the table. Unlike Megumi, I love setting the table for the ones we’ve cooked for, so he carries dishes and utensils enough for him and me while I bring the remaining sets for four.
Plates and silverware rattling against the table chime, breakfast is served, and conveniently, Maki, Panda, and a very sleepy Kugisaki come out of the woodwork. As I prepare the dorm’s coffee, I overhear Megumi, Panda, and the girls settling around the table.
With unreasonable authority, Maki orders Megumi to grab Inumaki and Yuta from out front. And Megumi has never submitted to fetching Inumaki, so when he ‘reluctantly’ agrees, I know his motivation.
But I won’t let that get me down. Instead, I’m busy in the kitchen, pouring Megumi a glass of orange juice and coffee. With a warm, home-cooked meal, I’m sure he’ll choose the orange juice, and I’ll have whatever he doesn’t.
So with a coffee pot in one hand and Megumi’s drinks in the other, I join the table in my fixed spot next to Megumi’s. “It smells delicious, Yuji. Thanks for the meal,” Maki respects, and compliments of my cooking are my favorite.
“Thank you! But It was Fushiguro’s idea; you should thank him instead!”
“Definitely not.”
“Maki, can you make me my plate?” Kugisaki groggily begs, crumpled at the other girl’s side. “Of course, sweetheart,” Maki obliges with a pat on her head. What a lovely show of affection that I’m totally gonna steal.
Megumi, Inumaki, and Okkotsu finally return, and I wonder what took them so long, but Megumi loyally takes his seat sandwiched between Kugisaki and me. “Thank you,” he says, accepting his juice. And with pride, I doubt Okkotsu knows Megumi’s breakfast beverage preference.
“Salmon.” what?
“Fushiguro tells me you’re his favorite cook, so thank you for letting me try some,” Okkotsu says graciously.
“I didn’t say favorite,” Megumi grumbles.
“Yeah! No problem. There’s more than enough for everyone, so have as much as you’d like,” I offer and gesture, “I brought plates, so grab-” Inumaki snatches the single plate I had to give, and mortified, I realize I kicked Okkotsu out of mind while preparing everything. What a terrible host I am!
“Ah! I’m a plate short! I’ll grab you one real quick,” I try remedying quickly. “NO! No! You’ve already done more than enough! I don’t wanna be a bother, so I can get myself.” “Are you sure? I really don’t mind!” “Yes! Thank you for the meal!” he practically bolts into the kitchen.
My face is already burning, and it blisters when I hear my preferred second years chuckling at our embarrassment. I sit silently next to Megumi, who looks unimpressed while he questions me with a look.
I didn’t mean to forget him. It was an accident, I swear to Megumi with a pleading stare, and I glare past at Kugisaki, who’s giving me a proud bastard’s smile as if I did that on purpose.
Maybe that wasn’t as big a blunder as it felt, I pray, but Okkotsu rejoins us looking uncharacteristically frazzled, basically hiding his face behind his plate.
That was terrible, but life around the table is moving on, and before Megumi can load his empty plate, I remember my plan formed from watching Maki and Kugisaki. I try to calm my nerves. Hopefully, Megumi considers this gesture as asking for forgiveness for forgetting his friend.
“Let me serve you, Fushiguro. I grilled some extra crispy pancakes just for you,” I truthfully tell, and spoil his plate with more food than he’s likely to finish.
Presenting him his plate, I’m excited and nervous, though that dies down when I meet his inexpressive face that asks what the hell I am up to. I cross my arms, ‘I’m just being friendly.’ Mission failed, but I’ll woo him next time.
I’m so used to spontaneous conversations loudly erupting around the dining table that time slows during the first breakfast with Okkotsu back. I love to listen to Kugisaki’s rambles about the hottest celebrity gossip. And Maki could easily captivate us with her storytelling skills, confidently recounting one of her grueling battles against a nasty curse. But instead, we’re forced to focus on Okkotsu and his stories abroad.
Respectfully, we first years leave our seniors to their business, but even Megumi finds his spiel unstimulating, so he splits his focus on their conversation and his laptop. And since Kugisaki’s apparently too mature to watch anime, she and Inumaki swapped spots so he, me, and Megumi could crowd around the screen and progress through Megumi’s and my show.
Inumaki and I lean equally against Megumi, but I don’t mind if it’s him; he’s obviously equally invested in One Piece, proving this by helping me redirect Megumi’s attention to the show’s pinnacle moments. Plus, I can’t see Megumi dating someone he doesn’t respect, which doesn’t bode well for me.
Before we can finish the episode, Okkotsu responsibly suggests we begin cleaning up now, so we can get to school on time. A good half of us are prone to getting too distracted, and the rest of us don’t care for tracking time, not for the sake of arriving at class on time.
Megumi is the outlier who would silently excuse himself to maintain perfect punctuality, but apparently, he and Okkotsu are similarly studious. I dread they’ll start studying together.
“Yeah, we’ll be late if we don’t wrap things up soon,” I say, beginning to gather the empty platters and surrounding dishes.
“Wait. Should you be cleaning up? You already made us a great breakfast, so let me handle the dishes,” Okkotsu offers. He’s too nice.
“Oh, I really don’t mind doing the dishes. And if we waited for them to take care of their plates, we wouldn’t get to school on time,” which is true because they feed off each other’s procrastination. A dilemma I’d fallen for if I hadn’t immediately jumped into completing this task.
“Are you guys really not gonna help,” Okkotsu asks while mirroring my cleanup on his side of the table.
“Why not leave the cleaning to the first years? I promise they don’t mind,” Maki lazily maintains.
“Hey!” Kugisaki whines, pinching her girlfriend to change her mind. Maki laughs and reconsiders, “leave it to the first-year boys,” she says, passing me her plate, which I take with a sigh. Megumi considers her words and looks up at me as if asking if what she says is fair.
Call me whipped, but I don’t want Megumi ever doing tedious tasks, so I’m happy to bear his load, instead instructing him to “Finish this scene, and I’ll take care of this stuff.” taking his plate and half of everyone else’s, Okkotsu and I reconvene in the kitchen.
The sinks are close enough for us to comfortably talk if we raise our voices over the scalding water. He sighs, “I’m sorry they’re making you clean up after you fed them. They can be inconsiderate of others sometimes, but they make up for it in other ways. Don’t worry about washing their dishes. I’ll clean it for them,” he kindly offers, but something about it makes me question his audacity. And it’s not just that it was him who said it.
Does he think I’m being bullied into this? I respect my upperclassman but recognize half the shit they say is ridiculous, so it’s not like I blindly obey.
“They’ve never forced me to do anything. I’m sure the first time I washed their dishes was because I offered; some chores just don’t feel like a chore.” especially when you’re doing it for people you love.
“Oh! I know what you mean. It is nice keeping yourself busy and caring for your home and friends. Either way, they could have asked nicely, especially Maki. But they’re just messing around, so thank you for putting up with them,” he laughs, but the thought of this guy coming back and nitpicking my friend’s behavior grits my teeth. I value their actions, not despite their glaring oddity and bluntness.
“What? You make them sound like a high-maintenance pet. I’m not feeding them because it’s my job; I care for them, and they look out for me. They don’t need to talk nice for me to know they care. You haven’t been here for months, not me.”
He’s silent.
Looking over jumpstarts his reaction.
“That’s not what I meant! I mean, I was just joking, but it sounded like I said I was better than them, didn’t it? I know they’re amazing people! I’m not saying they have no manners, just that they’re a little rude. WHICH IS FINE!”
“YOU NEED TO RELAX!”
I realize my previous reply was a bit sassy, but this guy is stressing me out. His rigid body’s distressing the dishes he’s washing too. I should probably apologize and ease his mind, but I maintain my previous response.
But Megumi wanted us to get along. I won’t comfort him, but there’s one thing we commonly care for, and I’ll draw from them.
“They really are difficult people,” I agree, “just last week, Inumaki swapped my protein powder with powdered cheese. It was so disgusting. Then Maki dared me to chug the thing, so I obviously had to. And I think she knew what he had planned when they bought it; they’re in charge of grocery shopping, and in exchange, I cook. It’s not like we outwardly agreed on that, but that’s how the dorms settled. I think our give-and-take relationship is pretty balanced,” I smile.
His shoulders seem to hang looser when I lose my hostility. He sighs, “I didn’t think I’d miss his stupid pranks while I was gone. It was like a nightmare taking the brunt of that attention, but I guess you know that. Sorry about what I said earlier. I suppose it was a bit presumptuous, coming back and talking like I know our friends better than you; we’ve probably spent the same amount of time with them, so we’re even,” he smiles back.
I nod my approval at his satisfying words. And I think I understand what Megumi meant when he said he needed to get used to him again; our household dynamics changed when he left and then when we enrolled, and they’re changing again now that he’s returned, but we never replaced each other, just filled in some cracks.
“Yo, hurry it up. Megumi’s leaving without us,” Maki warns. I dry my hands as quickly as Okkotsu, and we rush through the dorm to catch up.
“Wait for me!” “No need to shout,” Megumi warns, stopping in his tracks. Okkotsu catches up too, and all seven of us are a slow-moving blob making its way across campus. We’re in no strict order, but while we chat amongst ourselves, I love that Megumi’s focused on me, and I’m on him.
Even for anime, his media literacy isn’t dampened. I listen while he recounts this episode’s theme, where the plot is going, and how the characters will form further. His current favorite character is Luffy for his carefree and determined nature. And I can’t wait for him to meet mine.
I've always liked Robin, but I didn’t fully appreciate her cool intelligence until after I fell for Megumi.