Chapter Text
The bread was blue.
Tsumiki said not to eat blue bread, or fluffy bread. She said it was mould, and it would make them sick.
But Megumi was so hungry, and maybe the inside was okay. So he opened the bottom cupboard, slotting his foot on the shelf and pulling himself onto the counter.
He reached for the moulded bread, using a knife to scrape away the worst of his, his shaky hands unable to cut off the crust entirely.
The smell of rotting food filled the small apartment, damp and decay clawing at the corners of the rooms, a heavy feeling of desperation weighing on five year old Megumi Fushiguro’s shoulders.
Normally Tsumiki would be here, she was eight and made sure Gojo brought them food at the end of every week, but she was in the countryside with her class for two weeks, and Megumi had been trying to wait until she got back, but he was just too hungry.
He wouldn’t call Gojo.
He wasn’t hungry for attention, all he wanted was something to satisfy the feeling that his organs were eating themselves, his bones the thickness of pencils.
For the past two days he had been curled on the tiled kitchen floor, shaking. He was so cold and his stomach hurt so bad, the icy feeling of the floor against his skin crept into his body like a disease, a curse that just made him unloveable.
His mother died just after he was born. His father used to say that was because of him.
Next was Tsumiki and her mom, who he drove too, his father as well.
And now Tsumiki was on her stupid trip and she probably wouldn’t come back either, and Gojo always said he would stay but he always left.
It wasn’t fair, Megumi didn’t mean to drive these people away, he didn’t know what he was doing wrong, he tried so hard, he swears he does! But it never seems like enough to make them stay.
He picked up the bread, tearing pieces off and shovelling them into his mouth, his body wanting more, needing more, but it was so horrible but he was so hungry, the chewy texture of the soggy bread making him ill as he ate faster and faster.
He could feel the grime on his skin, the grease in his hair. Tsumiki would be home soon. He told himself, surely it had been two weeks? He hated the dirty feeling that covered him head to toe, the feeling he was something repulsive, a separate ugly thing.
A heavy feeling of nausea overtook him, the room spinning horribly as young Megumi whined and gripped the countertop, squeezing his eyes shut. But it was no use, he turned to the left and promptly threw up into the sink. Out of date orange juice, moulded bread and mostly just acid and spittle dripping from his mouth as he gagged and coughed into the sink, tears springing into his marine eyes as he felt his throat constrict with the fear of it.
He turned the tap and washed his mouth, gulping down the tap water Tsumiki said he shouldn’t drink.
He still felt dizzy, and the room hadn’t stopped. He could feel the shake in his hands, the way his body was so cold and tired, the way his mind only wanted rest.
So he shut his eyes, and as he slipped into unconsciousness he slipped from the counter, his head hitting the corner as he rolled to the floor, his tiny body curled on the tile again.
-
Satoru was late, he realised as he entered the grimy apartment building. He knows he didn’t come last week, as he was out of the country on a mission and had forgotten to ask Nanami to deliver them food. He knew Tsumiki was on a school trip for two weeks but she was held up another three days because of floods, the November rain overwhelming the roads into the more rural areas.
What he also realised, was that if Tsumiki was in the country, Megumi was all alone. Small, shy, Megumi was alone in the apartment he really wanted to move them out of. He wished they were closer so he wouldn’t have to keep coming out here.
He slid the key into the lock and turned it gently, stepping into the silent apartment and immediately choking on the awful smell that filled the place.
It was a rotting, festering smell of dirt and mould that filled Satoru’s nostrils and clung onto him like a weed.
“Megs? You here?” He called, but was met with an eerie silence.
He slipped his shoes off and continued into the apartment, spotting a worrying slight of rotting fruit and bread on the counter, an orange juice carton tipped and the juice dried onto the surface, flies buzzing around it.
Perhaps even worse than any of this, was when he took a closer look at the bread to find a slice of it with the mould scraped away, bites taken out of it.
Shit, was this kid eating mouldy bread?
As he started towards the dark hallway to Megumi’s bedroom, a small noise out of the corner of his hearing caught his attention.
His head whipped around and found Megumi lying on the kitchen floor, a cut on the side of his head and he looked awful.
Dirt coated his skin and matted in his hair, grease smeared his hair and covered his face, he was pale and shivering, his limbs trembling with a feeble kind of exhaustion Satoru hadn’t seen before.
He crouched by the boy as he let out another weak whimper. Satoru extended a hand to feel his temperature, but was shocked when his hand was clutched in a grasp weaker than a mouse’s, small fingers pathetically grabbing at his hand, a quiet desperation.
“Gojo…” he murmured, his dark eyes peeking open and staring up at Satoru’s glasses.
“Megs, when was the last time you ate?”
“a m-minute ago..” Megumi replied, his nose stuffy as he sniffed and wiped it on the back of one of his hands, glancing up at the mouldy bread.
Satoru followed his gaze and felt his heart break a little as he watched the moulded bread on the counter.
“Kid, have you been eating mouldy bread?”
“‘m sorry Gojo..” he muttered, avoiding Satou’s eyes.
“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve brought you food.” Satoru frowned, helping the boy to his shaky legs.
“I know you don’t like babysitting, and it would be annoying.”
“Megs, you’re starving. That doesn’t annoy me.”
“Stop calling me that!” Megumi screamed, pushing himself away from Satoru and stomping his foot. “Stop acting like you care!”
“I do care, I do and I’m sorry I didn’t come last week, I was out of the country and I for-“
“NO! Just stop! I’ll make you go too, stop acting like you care or else you’ll go!”
“Go? Where will I go ‘Gumi?” Satoru asked, uncharacteristically worried as Megumi’s knees trembled and his eyes flooded with tears.
“Like my mom, like T-Tsumiki’s mom and my dad, and now ‘Miki’s gone too and she won’t come home and it’s because of me!”
“No. No, Megumi listen to me, that is not your fault, okay?”
“It is! I’m- I’m cursed and- and everyone who I- I love goes and they..they don’t come back and it’s my fault! I make them go!”
Satoru watched him shouting and stomping weakly as he let out every unsaid word he had ever thought and locked tightly into his heart.
He scooted closer, and as Megumi fought and screeched as he pulled the small boy into a hug, holding his fragile body to his own, feeling how he collapsed in his arms.
“I got you, kid. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He whispered as Megumi’s body went limp, falling asleep in his arms.