Chapter Text
If there is one thing Megumi’s grateful for, it's Gojo.
Over the years, Megumi has grown fond of his quasi-parental figure. Gojo is the one person in the world Megumi has learned would never leave him no matter what.
He might be annoying, dramatic, over-the-top, and immature, and did he forget to mention annoying? But he was there. Gojo was always there. In Megumi’s world, no one but Gojo had stayed, and to him, that meant the world. Especially on the day that mattered the most, Gojo had been unshakable.
—
“Did you hear? A girl from our high school had to be taken to the hospital just last period!”
“What?!”
“Apparently she just passed out mid-class. Her friends thought she had just fallen asleep, so they let her be. It took them an hour to finally call the ambulance.”
And this is why Megumi hated middle school. Too many rumors and people getting into others business. For example, these girls were being nosy shits, and honestly, if he wasn't so used to ignoring their banter, he would've been seriously pissed off.
Megumi was sitting in the back of the classroom as usual. It was a supervised break period. Everyone was speaking with their friends except him. Most of his classmates were wary of him after the first few days of school when the news of him beating up the local delinquents spread around.
Megumi didn't mind; he found most of them annoying anyway. It was difficult to connect with classmates when he knew their biggest worry was what high school they'd move on to instead of what year of high school they would die while fighting a curse or what grade they'd be before a special grade came along to end their career.
Which was why he was minding his own business, peacefully reading a biography he picked up from the library. The supervisor called him outside the classroom; he was being called to the office. Strange, Megumi didn't recall beating anyone up in the last week or so.
As he walked to the office, Megumi heard the murmurs from the other students; they were probably beside themselves with the gossip this incident could provide. When he finally reached the door, he could hear whispers coming from inside the room. Yet when Megumi knocked, the hushing instantly ceased.
“Come in, close the door.”
Megumi pushes the door aside and sees Gojo standing beside the principal's desk, frowning. His heart shrinks in. Something's wrong; something's really wrong. Why would Gojo be here? Why is he frowning? What's up with closing the door?
“It’s about Tsumiki.”
“What about her?”
“She fell unconscious.”
“What? When?”
“A few hours ago, she was in the hospital now. We had to-”
“No, but-”
“Excuse me. We had to wait until your guardian arrived so we could properly excuse you from classes. My condolences, Fushiguro-kun”
That's not right. He sees Gojo stand up and offer him a hand.
“Come on, Megs, Ijichi’s already outside with the car”
“but-”
Gojo shoots him a dejected look.
And it just can't be. Because just this morning Tsumiki made him breakfast and talked to him about some homework she had to turn in. Just a few hours ago they’d taken the bus together and walked to school. The trees he passed by on the car ride were the exact same ones Tsumiki and he had stood under while waiting for the bus.
The air was thick, heavy like Megumi never knew could be possible with Gojo before. Because his guardian, who always wore his trademark freakish grin, teased Megumi and acted overly confident, he had not cracked a single joke or made a single smart remark since he entered the sleek sports car. The silence was not once broken.
But before Megumi realized, he was standing before the hospital doors. A strange hospital where his sister was NOT in. She had no room here.
Inside it was chaos. A machine beeping there, a nurse yelling over here, a code blaring through the speakers, family members patiently waiting in a corner, a family huddled together sobbing, and the doctors rushing him and Gojo to where they promised Tsumiki was, alive, apparently. Megumi couldn't speak; there was a knot so heavy in his throat he feared that if he tried to speak, his vocal cords would be permanently damaged.
The room was cold and aseptic, like a hospital scene from those movies Aunt Shoko liked to watch. It felt terminal.
Tsumiki’s body lay in the middle, connected to tubes and machinery too harsh for her delicate personality; all Gojo could let out was a strangled gasp. Megumi swallowed and instinctively reached for his guardian's hand. And although he was already fourteen and about to enter high school, that night he held onto his guardian like he was a kid who had a terrible nightmare.
He held onto Gojo's hand like a vise as a doctor explained Tsumiki's condition. It went in one ear and right through the other.
“Unidentified cause…long-term comatose state…might not wake up.”
This wasn't fair. Tsumiki shouldn't be cursed; he knew Gojo saw the energy all over her too. Tsumiki had done nothing. She was a fifteen-year-old girl, goddammit. She took care of her brother, laughed with her friends, and studied hard for school. She stopped to pet stray kittens and help old people cross the street. She never made fun of anyone. She never even held a grudge about their bum parents! How much purer could a soul be? What was the point of having sorcerers around if they couldn't contain whatever cursed his sister? Because why would he be a sorcerer if the work sorcerers supposedly did couldn't keep a good person like Tsumiki with her family? What was so different about the Zenins and Jujutsu High if innocent, good, kind people still got hurt?
Megumi didn't remember anything else from the hospital visit or getting home after that. He woke up a few days later. He roamed the apartment looking for that familiar pair of blue eyes. First Gojo’s room, then the kitchen, the living room, the balcony—nothing. Megumi was alone; he had no guardian and definitely no sister. He went to her room. It was as if she hadn't left; the CD player was still there, her room tidy as ever except for the homework scattered on her desk, waiting for her to come back so she can complete it as perfectly as she always does. The telescope Gojo bought her to bribe her favor when he first met them. The bookshelf with thousands of books on stars and constellations. Tsumiki was hugging him; the room felt like a sanctuary for her soul.
Still, Gojo’s absence hurt. For the first time in his thirteen years, he felt truly alone. He went the whole week without speaking a word.
–
Megumi couldn’t blame Gojo for not being there. At least, not entirely. The walls that were covered in once-lively pictures now felt aseptic. Memories of the kindest girl that ever lived, untouchable and distant now that Tsumiki was in the hospital looking like a corpse and could no longer come home and breathe life into an otherwise plain apartment. He himself had left his shared room with Tsumiki. He preferred the comfort of Gojo's bed over the excruciating reminder that Tsumiki was asleep, but she could never return to her own bed.
Megumi made contact with another living person a week after his first hospital visit. He heard Gojo opening the door to their apartment. He barged in stinking of trash, curse blood, and exhaustion. It's not like he was better off; he hadn't showered or eaten or slept either. Yet lying around in his bedroom made Megumi have enough strength to catch the adult mid-limp and drag him over to the couch before he collapsed onto the floor.
Megumi didn't trust Gojo to get up and going right after he woke up. He pushed last week’s homework and made himself comfortable at the dining table. Megumi willed sleep to come so he would not have to hear Gojo’s quiet sobs. It took him an hour to finally fall asleep.
—
Sleep doesn't offer any refuge. Megumi wakes up from a nightmare about three hours later. When he looks up groggily, Gojo’s already staring at him. Those unsettling blue eyes portraying an emotion akin to worry. And Megumi just woke up, and he knows this isn't the time to argue because the Gojo he knows never looks this resigned. The Gojo he knows would have insisted they have something sweet to “ward the bitter nightmare monsters away.” Gojo never could be this silent.
But Gojo’s left him alone. Alone for a whole week after losing the most important person to him. The only one Megumi’s ever loved and the only family that's ever cared for him, his supposed guardian, abandoned him for a week.
“It’s not fair”
Megumi cried before realizing he said it out loud. The sound ripped from his throat, the first thing he had said in a week. His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, irritating and annoying. Gojo only looked up at him from where he sat on the couch.
Their eyes meet, and at that moment Megumi realizes how truly beaten Gojo looks. It's as if he's been mauled by a hundred bears and consequently starved and sleep-deprived.
“It’s not.” He sounds…defeated. The strongest sorcerer in the world brought to his knees by a comatose daughter.
Gojo had been carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Unserious as he was, Gojo had carefully tried to protect Megumi’s and Tsumiki's little sanctuary to the best of his abilities. Now that it crumbled, the weight of the sky was dragging him down, and Megumi hated himself for the words that came out of his mouth next, but once he started, he couldn't back down.
“You’re not fair. You promised! You promised to never leave me, remember? And all you've done is wander the streets as if she’s somewhere out there. She's not Gojo! She’s asleep in the hospital, and I'm right here. I've been here alone a whole week! Fuck you, I thought you left me. I half expected the Zenin to come get me. What the hell was out there that's more important than this? Than Tsumiki?”
Megumi’s sobbing now; it's the first time he's cried in front of anyone who isn't his sister. And there Gojo is, looking at him with tears in his eyes as if he has any right to be crying right now. It's uncanny, seeing tears in those celestial eyes. It bothers Megumi, and so he takes a step forward, and before Megumi can process what he's doing, he's already thrown a punch. Muscle memory kicks in from all the fights with school bullies and Megumi’s sobbing and screaming and yelling about how this isn't fair because Tsumiki’s a good person and stuff like this shouldn't happen to people with a pure soul like her, and goddammit, it should've been him.
Megumi’s yelled too much- he's probably lost his voice again; he's lightheaded now. When he collapses against Gojo’s chest, the man only lets out a grunt. He's crying too; he didn't notice until now that he can't ignore the stinging in his eyes. When he goes to clean his face, his hands feel dirty; he holds them out to find bruised and bloodied knuckles. He pushes at Gojo's chest, another grunt.
“Aren't you supposed to be the strongest?”
Megumi cries desperately; it's the final blow. He knows it from Gojo’s gasp, the tilting of his head away from Megumi’s searching eyes. He's just physically beaten Gojo, and all his guardian did was take it. Fuck, he should've turned infinity on. Why didn't he? Megumi's eyes are following all the bruises he left behind, searching for an explanation. Because why wouldn't the strongest sorcerer stop a bratty teenager?
Megumi feels a tug. Gojo's pulling him forward into a hug.
“Why?”
“You needed it.”
It's that simple; just like that, they've forgiven each other. Because for Gojo, loving Megumi is unconditional.
“I'm sorry, I'm not leaving you ever again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They don't pull away from their embrace. It's late, Megumi’s tired (both physically and emotionally), and right now nothing is more tempting than falling asleep in his guardian’s arms, feeling protected. His eyelids flutter; he's giving in to sleep once again before he hears one last soft whisper from Gojo.
“I'd kill the whole world for both of you, really.”
–
The higher-ups did not find Gojo’s little week off “touching” or “sentimental.” Instead, they took a week from his vacation days and sent him on enough missions to last him a lifetime. Effectively separating him from his kid once more.
Megumi coped by sleeping in Gojo’s bed. It reminded him that he was not alone. That Tsumiki was not alone. If something were to happen to him, Gojo would be there to take care of her, so it was alright. Still, Megumi cried himself to sleep every night. It was almost routine by now. As soon as his body hit the bed late at night, the tears would start falling as his brain spiraled with the reality of living without his sister.
He skipped enough days of school to get him expelled. He didn't care; Jujutsu High would take any kid suicidal enough to want to become a sorcerer. Regardless of academic record.
When Gojo finally found time to return home, Megumi’s mind was set. He would become a Jujutsu Sorcerer so Gojo would not have to bear the burden of finding what ailed Tsumiki alone. He would be a sorcerer out of filial loyalty for the father who chose him as a son rather than out of duty for the father that gave him no way out of the suicidal profession.
Years later, Megumi would find out what happened to Gojo during that one week away from home.