Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No,” says categorically Megumi.

“Why not?! It’d do you some good to get out of your tiny dreary bubble,” retorts Nobara, eyes unabashedly following the form of his cousin across the school field.

He grunts but doesn’t bother telling her that he is perfectly fine in his ‘tiny dreary bubble’.

“And don’t you wanna see Maki-san in her workplace, working in a cute maid café with a cute butler outfit,” adds Nobara, with a lovesick sigh then a I dare you to contradict me glare, as if Megumi has ever cared about any of his cousins’ workplace, hobbies or life decisions.

“Stop projecting on me,” he instead replies. “If you want to go, there is absolutely nothing and no one stopping you.”

Nobara ignores him.

“I gotta go and stake my claim,” she says with a resolve that is inappropriately misplaced considering the context of their current conversation and not for the first time he wonders whether it had been such a good idea after all to sit next to Kugisaki Nobara all those months ago.

“I don’t see why you can’t go by yourself,” Megumi repeats for the nth time, knowing perfectly it’s going to fall on deaf ears.

She finally turns to him, a serious frown on her face and an unusually grave look in her eyes. Unwillingly, Megumi can’t help but turn to her as well, lifting up his eyes from the book he’s been trying unsuccessfully to read for the last fifteen minutes (no thanks to his love-deranged classmate).

“I need reinforcement in case I have competition, so you can use those gloomy eyes of yours to seduce my competitors to your side,” she finally says, checking him out as if perusing a vaguely amorphous amoeba that everybody is fascinated by but that she personally can’t get the appeal herself.

Snapping his book shut – clearly there is not going be any reading any time soon, he levels a flat stare at his friend.

“First, it’s a maid café. Nobody would be interested in either you or me, or even arguably a passing chihuahua, second, I’m not about to go waste an hour of my time in a place that I frankly couldn’t care less about,” Getting up and pushing his book into his school bag, he deals the final blow. “And last, third wheeling to you and Maki’s unconventional courtship is so far down my list of priorities it does not even register.”

Spluttering in anger, Nobara, not one to give up, rises up as well and glares up at him in the same way he stares unimpressed down at her.

Suddenly, as if remembering something important, her expression changes. A sly glint enters her eyes and leaning closer to him, a triumphant grin on her lips, she says.

“Are you sure about that? Because, well, how do I say this,” She meanders about, grin steadily getting wider. Megumi has a bad feeling about this. “Maki-san told me a lil something, a very interesting tidbit of information that I did not expect to hear –

“Just get to the point,” He impatiently cuts in.

– that one Itadori Yuuji works in there.”

His brain short circuits.

Then tries valiantly to connect the image of Itadori Yuuji, in, in a mai –

“Stop lying,” he hisses, through clenched teeth, the beginning of a furious red staining the back of his ears. “Wha – ”

“I’m really not, though?” She continues, delighted. “Maki said she has a pink haired coworker, whose name is Yuuji, how many Yuujis do you think there are who have pink hair in this side of Tokyo?”

Silence.

“C’mon now, Fushiguro, don’t chicken out on me, don’t you wanna see the boy you’ve been looking for the last three months like an obsessed stalker freak –

“I’m not – ”

“Having fun wearing a cute maid outfit and sweetly calling you Master while serving you tea like a cute obedient housewife – ”

“Kugisaki, I’m warning you – ”

“– and I’m sure Itadori would be absolutely happy to see you again, considering the ray of sunshine that he is. Well, guaranteed that is, if he even remembers you in the first place.”

His mouth snaps shut while his glower just seems to deepen. Nobara, in all of her smug demeanor, curls a lock of hair around her finger, not unlike the demure but stuck up ojou-sama he is consistently surrounded by.

Megumi knew he lost the war before he even begun the battle.

“Fine,” It feels like the word had to be forcibly wrenched from the depth of his vocal chord to be voiced out. “I will go with you but I don’t want to hear not a single word about Itadori to anyone else.” He warns, tone low.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Nobara, the absolute merciless being that she is, grabs his shoulders with both hands. “Don’t worry, Fushiguro, I got your back. Like you said, I can’t let you third wheel with me and Maki-san, you’d just ruin the mood – ”

Twitching slightly, Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“ – so as my duty as your loyal friend, I’m gonna help you get that sweet tiger ass – ”

“For the love of god, stop – ”

“But first we gotta go scout the place so let’s go today,” She bludgeons on, unheeded. Starting to gather her school stuff, she shoves everything inside her bag, uncaring of the curious looks of some their classmates upon the animated convo they were having.

Just the idea of someone overhearing their discussion makes Megumi want to dig a grave, get inside said grave and never come out.

And yet, yet…

The idea of Itadori, close by, no longer so out of reach – despite being in a most unforeseen place, makes something curl up warmly inside and breath in relief. For all that Kugisaki likes to deliberately misunderstand his (admittedly) slightly, somewhat, unhealthy… interest, Megumi hasn’t been searching for Itadori all this time for any nefarious, perverted reasons. But that’s understandable, he supposes with a grimace, considering he hasn’t told Kugisaki the whole story behind meeting Itadori Yuuji.

Which is just another reason why he is not going to, unless he wants to go dig a real grave for himself.

The first time, they meet like this:

One evening, while Megumi was hauling his drunken off father off the streets – a common event that had been, strangely, occurring less and less as, instead of alcohol and gambling, his father seems to waste his money on… something else entirely; though, Megumi isn’t sure what that something is –, a pink haired boy intercepts them.

It’s so out of the blue that for a few seconds Megumi just stares blankly at the approaching boy, the later waving cheerfully. He figures it might be a schoolmate from Jujutsu high, although, he thinks he would have remembered someone with such a distinct hair color.

“Fushiguro-kun!” The boy, wearing a red hoodie and dark jeans, is grinning at them and the familiar address is perplexing as Megumi is sure he has never met the boy in his life.

Then he realizes the boy is addressing his father.

“Ah, Yuu-chan,” says his useless, very drunk father, eyes lighting up upon the sight of the boy. This... Yuu-chan. “How is my sweet pumpkin doing on this fine morning?” It’s eight pm.

Megumi does not understand.

“It’s eight pm, silly,” says obliviously the boy. “Fushiguro-kun, don’t tell me you’re drunk again. What did I say last time?” There’s a note of disappointment in his voice and horrified, Megumi feels his father stiffen in guilty surprise.

“Ah, it’s just this one time, ‘cos, uh, I got fired from my job again,” At the frown on the boy’s (Yuu?) face, Megumi feels not unlike the bystander to a very unexplained scene in a soap opera. “Also, how many times has I told Yuu-chan to call me Toji?” The suave tone in his father – probably a poor attempt to deflect – is enough to finally snap Megumi out of his stupor.

“Who are you?” He snaps at the boy, feeling very much wrong-footed at the slight implication of the ongoing conversation between the two. “And how do you know each other?”

The boy focuses on him and Megumi finds himself under the scrutiny of warm amber eyes. He smiles at Megumi – and in a distant part of his mind, the part that isn’t preoccupied by the fact his drunk father is engaging with someone several years younger, Megumi thinks pretty – and answers,

“Oh, hello, you must be Fushiguro Megumi, Fushiguro-kun told me so much about you,” Megumi does not like where this conversation is going. “I’m Itadori Yuuji but just call me Yuuji, everybody does.” Megumi will very much not.

The boy imperceptibly does not answer his second question.

“How do you kn – ” He doesn’t even finish before his father pushes him to the side and presents his arm to the boy, not unlike a gentleman offering his arm to a lady. The thought is so disturbing that Megumi instinctively balks in disgust – gentleman and Fushiguro Toji are two terms that cannot coexist.

“C’mon Yuu-chan, let’s go and ditch this moody sea urchin,” his father sways slightly and Itadori, unfazed, wraps an arm around his father’s shoulders.

“Let’s get you home, Fushiguro-kun, you need some sleep,” says the boy with a meaningful glance toward Megumi.

Reluctantly, Megumi is already wrapping another arm around the stumbling form of his father and leading them toward his house down the streets.

In the dark streets, they walk in silence, interrupted once in a while by Toji’s drunken ramblings.

“Cute… skirt… Yuu-chan..”

“Neko… theme… fucking sexy..”

“Go.. to.. ‘shine… tomorrow..”

Megumi can barely parse through his father’s mumbling words but even then he does not like what he’s hearing.

“What’s he talking about?” He glares at Itadori as the latter soothes his father, patting his back.

“Ah, err, he comes to my place of work sometimes and, um, we talk,” Itadori’s words are carefully chosen as he glances at Megumi, an awkward smile on his face. “It’s nothing bad, Fushiguro-san. I promise you.”

Megumi is not convinced.

“Where do you work then?”

Itadori doesn’t say anything for a while, and Megumi prepares to repeat his question, unwilling to let Itadori avoid it.

It’s at that moment that his useless, drunk father lurches sideways and throws up all over Megumi’s pants and shoes.

For fuck’s sake –

Heaving, Toji levels up a glare at Megumi, uncaring of the mess he just made of his son’s school uniform.

“Oi, brat, shut it,” The words would be a lot more threatening if for one, they weren’t slurred, and for two, if he wasn’t getting steadily green in the face. Tsking, Megumi grips his father’s neck to push him forward and allows the second projectile of vomit to splatter on the sidewalk.

From there on, Megumi allows the conversation with Itadori to die down and focuses on getting his stupid old man back home.

It doesn’t take long before they’re back home, his father’s (as well as his own) clothes changed and his form tucked into bed. Thankfully, Tsumiki is on a sleepover with her friends and wouldn’t be back till tomorrow afternoon.

He is left alone with Itadori and as loath he is as to admit it, Itadori has been a big help into getting his father to go to sleep and not start on a second (third?) round of beer. It was even sort of impressive, the unflappable level of patience Itadori has in dealing with his father, a patience Megumi has no ability or desire to emulate.

But at any rate, that doesn’t mean that Itadori is off the hook.

Staring at the boy, Megumi waits for an explanation.

Itadori doesn’t provide one.

“I gotta go back home, it’s getting late,” Itadori says, setting down the water he has been sipping.

“Not till you tell me whats up with you and my father,” Megumi interjects, immovable.

“Err, Fushiguro-san, that’s really not something you need to know,” Itadori sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I will be the judge of that.”

They lapse into a short silence.

Then.

“For what it’s worth, Fushi – ” Itadori stops and corrects himself. “Toji-san says all the time that he is really proud of you and that he wishes things were different between you too. Not in so many words of course but he has a way of talking about you that really shows that he cares about you. I think, um, maybe he just doesn’t know how to express himself without sounding like, err, an asshole? Takada-chan says its the toxic masc – ”

Megumi chokes on his spit.

What the –

“What the hell are you talking about?” He hisses, beyond mortified. “What – why – how even …!”

What did his father blabber about to someone who is literally half his age, as well as a stranger, what even is their relationship for Toji to just say.. stuff.. like that. Megumi had always believed his father's aptitude to share (or demonstrate) meaningful, paternal ...feelings had been severely stunted from his time at Zenin but as it turns out, he was right. If he's going around playing the proud father card to a boy half his age. The audacity.

Forgetting all about his former query, Megumi jerks back in unmitigated anger. But Itadori isn’t done yet, as earnest as a puppy presenting its finding to its owner.

“ – but meeting you, Fushiguro-san, I’m really glad you’re on his side. You’re a really good person and – ”

“You know what, stop, just stop,” Megumi groans out loud. “Fine, keep your secrets, but don’t think this is over.”

The smile Itadori offers him is tinged with guilt but he doesn’t refute his words.

“I wasn’t lying, Fushiguro-san,” Yes, and that was exactly the problem. The boy seems to genuinely believe his father's act. However, Megumi is receptive to the idea of desillusioning Itadori about the true nature of his father even less. Plus he feels like unpacking his family issues with a stranger is not how he wanted to end his day. He put those emotions to address later. And by later, he means never, preferably.

Itadori aims a bright smile at him and Megumi… isn’t sure how to feel about that either.

“I really gotta go now,” He says, checking his phone. “It was nice meeting you, Fushiguro-san.”

He doesn’t wait for Megumi’s reply before he’s already out of the door, one last cheerful wave away.

Megumi stares and stares some more.

Yeah, no, this isn’t over at all.

Later on, despite Megumi’s plenty attempts to pry the truth out of his father’s mouth, the latter remains mum. Trying to follow his father to see whether he might be heading to wherever Itadori might be is also useless as whatever honed instinct enabled his father to dodge loan sharks for years now, also enables him to lose Megumi in his pursuit. For whatever crazy reason, he says he is protecting the boy from Megumi’s ‘dog claws’ – his words, not his own – , as if Megumi is the predatory danger and not his decades older father possibly preying on an underage… boy.

The only thing that makes sense in this whole situation is that his father’s visiting an underage sex worker, which he thinks is a new low even for someone as ...morally ambiguous as his father. The words muttered during his drunken spree are very leading in their own and Megumi doesn’t need to be a genius to connect the dots. He feels sick, stomach churning at the possible ramifications of what might be going on between his father and Itadori. He doesn’t disclose anything to Tsumiki, the thought of her horrified and shocked face is enough for him to shut his mouth for the time being. But even then, guilt eats at him.

It all comes to a head when his father surprises him going through his phone, password easily guessed – Tsumiki’s birthday date, huh, same as Megumi’s password phone in fact. It’s foolish, reckless and might earn him the grounding of his life but Megumi just looks back unflinchingly at his father, both disappointment and relief at finding nothing incriminating on the phone warring inside him.

Toji looks back at his son, his carbon copy except for his character – so unlike Toji’s own, a chasm between them, and yet both possessing the same biting, willful armor – and sighs.

“It’s not what you think, brat,” He leans on the doorframe and stares unaffected at his son. “You think I’d stoop so low as to go after a kid? You wound me,” He continues in a drawling tone, eyes no less shrewd.

“Yet you’d stoop low enough to flirt with one,” Megumi snaps back, feeling irrationally angry. He doesn’t even know why he is feeling so defensive over Itadori, he doesn’t even know him. Not in the sense of familiar acquaintanceship or even in a school-ordered context. And yet, whenever he gets reminded of those warm eyes, he can’t help a surge of protectiveness. It’s ridiculous, it’s headache-inducing but Megmui doesn’t back down from his stance.

“Boy, if you think that was flirting, then I pity your chance with whoever will catch your eyes,” Toji snorts but whatever he catches on the wild look on his son’s face makes him sigh again.

“We met in the café he works at, we struck a casual conversation about our mutual dislike of capitalism and whether working in a host club is worth the headache of dealing with the customers,” He says matter-of-affectedly. “We bonded over our love of meat dishes, home cooked food in general and foreigners’ inability to stop fetishising Asian people.” It certainly had been an entertaining discussion, Toji remembers fondly.

The boy squints at him, doubtful.

“Then where does he work?” The boy is already a goner if he focused more on this than the bullshit (even if, admittedly truthful in a part) spewing from Toji’s mouth.

At that, the grin on Toji’s face grew bigger.

“None of any your damn business,” He ruthlessly shuts down the line of inquiry.

“You ‘re not even unemployed so why did you say you got fired last time to Itadori,” Megumi says slowly. “Why were you lying?”

Toji arches a brow. To be fair, Megumi doesn’t know Toji isn’t so much unemployed as simply freelancing in some very specific, not very legal, time-sensitive areas that demands him to disappear on long periods of time then come back with a suspiciously large amount of money – the woes of being a freelance, err, cleaner.

Although, the boy is sharp and probably had already deduced his less than acceptable endeavors.

“Yuuji-chan can be very mean when he’s disappointed, though not always,” Mind racing, Toji decides a little bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt his son. If anything, the boy needs some much levity if he wants to get anywhere in life “But you know what, you’re right. What is stopping me from going after Yuuji-chan? I’m sure his other customers are wondering the same things so I might as well be the first to make a move.”

Well, well, well. Would you look at that. The boy sure can give off interesting expressions. It sort of looks ugly, though. Boy's lucky he got his face. Toji wouldn’t be surprised if Megumi decides to poison his dinner tonight, a well-deserved action, he supposes and he does entertain for a few seconds backtracking on his words as a joke – contrary to beliefs, Toji does have morals even if very loosely bound together, thank you very much – but then again where would be the fun in that.

Surprisingly enough, Megumi doesn’t insist and disappointedly doesn't act on his patricidal urges, just surveys him for a few more blank seconds – Toji’s bored expression must be pissing him off though but the brat is good at hiding his expressions – then just throws his phone back at him.

They don’t talk for the rest of the week.

The second time they meet, it ends like this:

Itadori saves Megumi’s life.

The story is right out of a fairy tale and it would be romantic, if it wasn’t also so fucking stupid.

One day, while Megumi was dealing his weekly bully-beating to some of the unfortunate idiots who thought he was an easy target, he gets taken by surprise.

Only his sharp reflexes manages to help him avoid a brandished baseball bat at his head, but it still manages to clip him slightly on the temple. It’s not enough to weaken him but it’s enough to stagger him into loosing his footing and falling flat on his ass. He doesn’t stay down for long but the damage is already done.

Another one comes behind him and he only has enough time to dodge a swiss army knife before he realizes things are going off the end. His temple is throbbing and three more advance toward him, which two are holding weapons. The thing is, Megumi knows he is going to win this fight, no questions asked. But the wounds he will surely gain are going to send Tsumiki off in another relentless tirade that will leave them both exhausted, frustrated and angry with each other.

At least, that’s what he thinks at first, until sharp pain blooms in his side.

He looks down and there is a knife sticking out.

There is a momentous pause as everyone freezes, eyes glued on the protruding weapon out of his side as if nobody expected the very real possibility of a swinging knife finding its target.

The one who put said knife in him is gaping unsightly at him.

“I thought... fuck.. I thought you’d dodge!” He cries out as he stumbles several steps back.

Megumi doesn’t know whether to feel flattered at the confidence they displayed in him or resigned at the fact that, yes, this is it, Tsumiki will absolutely murder him after this.

The spot is getting steadily wet and red.

“We gotta call – ” One of them ventures in but gets interrupted.

“No! No way in fuck are we involving anyone...! We’re leaving now!” The spineless cowards immediately converges away from Megumi.

There’s a yell in the distance, a hurried sound of steps following.

“Fuck.. we gotta go..!” Snaps the leader as he darts a quick glance around one final time and then in a disjointed move, everybody starts running away.

Megumi stares back at them and takes a step back, back hitting the wall as the pain radiating away, makes the situation strike him fully.

Fuck, those assholes stabbed him and just left.

Megumi will have their fucking head.

Grasping at his side, he hisses and tightens his hand over the wound. He is losing blood and he knows enough of stab wounds – courtesy of his father’s hard-learnt lessons – to know pulling it out is a death sentence. From what it looks like, it doesn’t seem like it hit any major blood vessel but even then it doesn’t mean he isn’t hemorrhaging from the inside. Breathing in shallowly, he attempts to focus on the right moves to slow down the bleeding. He applies pressure and tries to walk –

He knows there is a hospital close by, maybe a 10min walk at most but if he could just remember where –

His phone is in his bag and his bag is on the floor and he can’t bend down without feeling agony shoot up his side –

Fuck, the wound looks deep –

Then, there’s hands on him.

Lashing out, on pure reflex, his punch gets caught in a smaller, tanned hand.

There is a familiar pink haired boy before him, amber eyes reflecting a frantic worry.

Itadori Yuuji.

Megumi resists laughing, because seriously? Right now, he meets the boy he’s been looking for for the last numerous weeks? The gods must be mocking him. As if this situation isn’t bad enough, he gets to have an audience under the form of the person he’s been trying to find and, and –

What actually?

What has he been hoping for, anyways? Why even, look for him when as his father said, it’s really none of his business? Hell, even now, Megumi doesn’t know what to say or do, as if the presence of Itadori has completely blanketed the thoughts in his mind. Itadori is so close Megumi can count the freckles on his cheeks and the sight momentarily arrests him.

While all this is running in his head, Itadori is busy inspecting the wound and then in a fit of determination, comes to a decision.

“There is a hospital seven minutes away from here, I’m fast enough to get there in four,” Itadori says but Megumi isn’t listening. Up close, he is shorter than Megumi and the thought is oddly charming. Also is it him or does Itadori smell really good? Something like cherry blossoms and orange, or maybe it’s more citrus like –

Blinking rapidly, Megumi realizes Itadori is still talking. What is he even thinking? Ah, this must be the blood loss messing with his head.

He manages to catch the end tail of Itadori’s words but the words don’t quite register.

“ – gonna hurt for a bit so bear with me, Fushiguro-san, please,” And in one easy move, Itadori is holding Megumi in his arms. And less than a second after, he is running full speed.

What the fuck…!

Beyond the discomfort – coupled with the humiliation of what it looks like to passerby's – of being carried bridal style, Megumi is inwardly shaking his head because Idiot, he wants to shout, you’re not supposed to move someone who is bleeding, let alone carry them and especially not in such a manner … !

He doesn’t say any of that and instead gazes unfocused at the passing buildings. It almost look like he’s on a bike, the way things are getting blurry and wind whiping past his face.

Itadori is astonishingly fast.

And true to Itadori’s words, barely a few minutes later, he is ushered away into the emergency rooms and the last thing Megumi sees is the worried expression on Itadori’s face.

Ah , he thinks faintly , he better be here when I wake up.

He is not.

Here, that is.

Closing his eyes and ignoring his father’s cooing words – “Would you look at that, sea urchin’s first baby scar,” – and Tsumiki’s foretold chagrined face, Megumi reminds himself that things could be so much worse. He could be dead, could have gotten damaged organs, could have hemorrhaged so badly he might have slipped in a coma –

Yeah, okay, he’s a bit pushing the envelope – as the knife had missed his vital organs and Itadori did get him in time to the hospital but his point still stands, things might have ended in tragedy and yet regardless of that, Megumi can’t help feeling viscerally disappointed at the glaring absence of one Itadori Yuuji.

Next time, he vows quietly to himself, next time he is not getting away so easily.

As the old saying goes, third time is the charm but soon enough Megumi learns, it’s not always a lucky charm.

Because the third time they meet, Megumi embarrasses himself beyond repair.

It goes like this:

As Nobara is so fond at pointing out, Megumi’s conversational ability is not so much lacking as simply... belligerent. Which merely means that Megumi’s unwillingness to hold a conversation longer than the length of a grocery list is directly correlative to said conversation’s subject. Not only that but Megumi’s direct, to-the-point way of speaking can often be misleading. And in this particular case, it translates to a rigid form of communication that people mistakes for coldness or worse, disdainful antagonism. It earned him a relentless teasing from his father and a pitying look from Gojo-senpai that later on transitioned to increasingly tasteless pranks to quote ‘develop your communicative potential that is buried somewhere deep in your tongue, Megumi-chan!’ unquote from ‘your thoughtful Gojo-senpai.’ In return, Megumi made sure to find each and every stash of his hidden candies and burn them to a pile of ash behind the school’s dumpster.

(However in Itadori’s … particular situation, Megumi’s ability to get his point across in a way that is meaningful and thoughtful gets severely impacted by ...factors outside of his jurisdiction.)

Standing before the café Sunshine and hands sweating up a storm for some reason, it takes Megumi a long while to take notice of the way Nobara is digging her nails on his arm, hard enough to probably leave punctures. Annoyed, he makes to shake his arm away before noticing the nervous expression on Nobara’s face.

If Megumi was any lesser friend he would have seized the opportunity to mercilessly tease Nobara into mindless rage. Instead, he opts to level a judgmental look on her.

“Maki-senpai isn’t the type to make thoughtless offers and you know that as much as I do, so yes you can be sure she does want you here,” He plainly says.

Nobara starts at him for a few seconds then she punches him in the arm.

“Shut up, of course I knew that,” Raising her head proudly, she lets go and steps inside. Rolling his eyes, Megumi swiftly follows.

His first step inside the café is full of confidence: for all that Megumi has never set a foot inside a maid themed café (or even any themed café for that matter) Megumi isn’t a stranger to luxurious settings. By all accounts, while the Zenin clan did sever all ties with his old man when the later up and left to marry a ‘commoner’, the same thing couldn’t be said about Megumi. He isn’t full on the details between the Zenin and his father but he knows enough that his enrollment in the prestigious Jujutsu high school is partly due to the deal his father made with the clan and partly due to Megumi’s own genius once-in-a-lifetime talent as a pianist. Never mind that Megumi’s own interest in the piano is hanging on by a thin thread these days (all due to the Zenin’s own unorthodox of, ah, sponsoring). But at any rate, Megumi had enough interactions in wealthy settings that the sight of the gilded café doesn’t faze him much – unlike Nobara’s poorly hidden wonder as she gazes around.

The second step: not so much when he finally catches a glimpse of Itadori.

Steps faltering and heartbeat picking up, Megumi stays rooted on his spot as the full sight of Itadori registers in his mind.

He doesn’t even know where to set his eyes first: the bright welcoming smile on Itadori’s face, the red flush of his cheeks, the rose choker wrapped around his neck emphasizing its long lines, the flowing pink skirt with a white apron tight around a slender waist, the white stockings running up smooth, tone d calves –

He is wearing heeled boots.

Mouth dry, Megumi has to forcibly wrench his eyes away from the approaching form of Itadori lest he gets caught ogling him like a pervert. Nobara, besides him, is elbowing his guts for one reason or another.

“Welcome, Master, Mistress,” says the soft timbre of Itadori and Megumi refuses to look up even as the word Master plays on a loop in his mind.

Thankfully, Nobara leads on with full force, a (fake) sweet smile painted on her face.

“One table for two, please,” Nobara isn’t even trying to disguise the peering around in a hope to catch a glance of Maki-senpai. It’s Megumi’s turn to elbow her.

The gesture attracts Itadori’s attention and once his eyes land on Megumi, they flash with recognizance.

“Fushiguro-san?” Itadori seems startled and Megumi shifts awkwardly.

“Itadori,” is the only word he permits himself to utter.

Despite the puzzling embarrassment he’s feeling by finding himself before Itadori, Megumi straightens his back, takes a deep breath and looks forward directly at Itadori Yuuji in his ...maid uniform.

It does not get any easier.

“Ah, Fushiguro-san,” a slightly confused but also vaguely resigned smile paints Itadori’s face. “I guess it was a long time coming..” He trails off awkwardly. Megumi resists the urge to pat his head.

“I did not expect to see you working here,” Megumi starts then fumbles. “Not that there is anything wrong with the café, I just meant, that, well, err..”

The smile on Itadori’s face doesn’t let off.

“It’s alright, Fushiguro-san, I get the same reaction from most of my friends too,” Says Itadori with an amused smile. “Allow me lead you to your table.” Addressing Nobara – who is eyeing Megumi with barely veiled aggravation – Itadori starts ushering them to a table not too far from the counter in which a girl who seems to be their age is peeking at them with curiosity.

Sitting down, Megumi looks up to the pink haired boy to find him already looking back with considering eyes.

“I’m glad to see you well, Fushiguro-san,” Itadori starts slowly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit in the hospital, it was a bit of a, um, complicated situation for me.”

Frowning, Megumi opens his mouth to ask what Itadori meant – it’s been two months since the ... incident and while Megumi’s fine, the occasional twinge of pain in his abdomen persists and only serves to unfailingly remind him of what happened, also suffice to say the culprits got their comeuppance in the form of an exceptionally violent beat-down (administrated by Megumi himself) followed by a stunt in prison (courtesy of the Zenin’s clan lawyers, Megumi isn’t above taking advantage of the weighty influence of the clan) –and while Megumi didn’t hold it against Itadori, for all that Megumi did feel devastatingly bereft when the boy made no move to contact him whether through his father or otherwise, Megumi isn’t idiotic enough to actually say any of that. There is only so much his obsession can be called reasonably cute before it starts to crossing into the territory of concernedly creepy.

Or, so Nobara claims.

Said girl butts in, a devious grin aimed at Megumi.

“So you’re the famous Itadori Yuuji,” Leaning forward, Nobara in a shameless display of, well, shamelessness, peruses the form of Itadori. “I heard so much about you, you know? From Fushiguro here, Maki-senpai, even Baka-Mai.” Snapping wild eyes at his friend, Megumi hisses at her to shut up.

Ignoring him, she fearlessly continues.

“Itadori here, Itadori there. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a celebrity. But what is this? You have the accent of a country bumpkin.” Whatever Maki-senpai had said about Itadori seems to have lit up a fuse in Nobara, Megumi realizes in horror. No wonder Nobara had been so relentlessly curious about Maki-senpai’s place of work. “You even have the look of one. So what is it about a dull potato like you that has the Zenin wrapped around your finger, hmm?”

Megumi decides right then and there that he does not know Nobara Kugisaki and has never met her in his entire life.

Unexpectedly, Itadori brightens.

“Ah, you must be Maki-san's special person,” He exclaims cheerfully, clapping his hand once … and choosing to focus on the wrong thing out of everything Nobara said.

Though, it has the advantage of derailing Nobara from her verbal warpath if the befuddled expression on Nobara’s face is any indication. It only makes the grin on Itadori grow bigger.

“Hah?! Sp-special person?!” Flushing a violent red, Nobara glares at him even as she darts a panicked glance around to presumably check whether said object of her affection is around.

Misunderstanding (or, well maybe understanding a bit too well) Itadori turns around and joyously calls out.

“Maki-san! Your friends are here!”

“Huh, wait – ” Nobara tries to wave for him to stop but it’s already too late as a recognizable green haired head pops out of the back of a door behind the counter.

At the sight of his cousin, Megumi breathes a sigh of relief as Nobara’s focus laser-ed on Maki-senpai. That ought to keep her occupied and preferably out of Itadori’s range.

Standing up, Nobara immediately veers toward his cousin and both Megumi and Itadori watch as Maki-senpai, in all her butler uniform glory, manages to catch a jokingly swooning Nobara.

This is not something that he has any inclination to view any further; Megumi decides as he directs his attention back on Itadori, who has a content smile on his face.

“I apologize for Kugisaki, she can be a bit… careless with her words,” Megumi is really doing her a favor by choosing to describe her in the most neutral word he can find. “She means no harm.” although that is debatable as god only knows what goes on in her head sometimes.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s great that Maki-san has good friends.” Shrugging, Itadori aims a bright smile at Megumi and Megumi loses his train of thought.

“Right, so what can I offer you, Master?” Tilting his head just so, Itadori waits.

He blue-screens there and then, there is no other term to describe the absolute blank that comes to his mind. Nothing but M asterMasterMaster echoeing in his mind.

“Master?”

Say something, Megumi inwardly howls, just say somethin-

“Don’t call me that,” Instead, his traitorous mouth snaps harshly. A lot more harsher than even appropriate judging by the way the smile on Itadori falters. Wait, no, no –

“My apologies, sir,” Itadori steps back.

“Wait, I mean,” Struggling to get the words out through gritted teeth, Megumi clenches his hands and tells himself to shape the fuck up. “Just call me Fushiguro, none of that, er, Master thing.” There, that’s better.

Itadori appears briefly confused before an understanding smile brighten his previously subdued expression.

“Ah, of course, Fushiguro-”

Megumi drops his shoulders in relief.

“-sama. What can I offer you?”

Flushing horribly, he snaps his eyes back to Itadori.

“No, just Fushiguro. No honorifics,” He hisses between his teeth, the red on his cheeks probably a neon sign to anyone around caring to comment.

Before Itadori could open his mouth and Megumi despairs quietly at whatever he is gonna spring on him. Also, since when did names sound so provoking?! Megumi feels like he ought to be gearing up for a fight with how much is heartbeat is accelerating to the beat of Itadori voicing his name.

A voice interjects.

“I’m sorry but he will take black coffee, no sugar,” says Nobara popping up at his side while kicking him underneath the table, followed closely by Maki-senpai. “He’s just tired cos of the mid-terms, brain lagging and all, you know how it is – ”

Sympathy bleeds on Itadori’s face.

“I got you, dude,” He says earnestly. “If it wasn’t for Yuko-san tutoring me through he worst of it, I might have failed all of them.”

“Err, yes, that,” Twitching violently, Megumi stares unblinkingly at the table before him.

“Right, one strawberry milkshake for me, please,” requests Nobara barely sparing the menu a glance before turning her attention back on Maki.

Maki, who is leveling a glare at him.

“Of course, I will be right back,” says cheerfully Itadori before he’s gone, practically skipping to where that other girl is eyeing them with vague curiosity behind the marble counter.

Megumi watches him puttering around behind the marble counter along his colleague, laughing to something she said. His intent focus is what allows Maki to lean forward and snap her fingers right in front of his face.

“The hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” He asks defensively, looking back at his cousin. “Nothing is wrong with me.”

“You’re acting weird,” Maki pauses before amending. “Well, weirder than usual.”

“It’s his dumb crush,” says Nobara boredly, blowing a breath on her fingernails. “Our Megumi-chan is growing up well.”

“It’s not what you think,” Narrowing his eyes at the both of them, he decides a change of subject and scenery is in order. “I haven’t thanked him yet for what happened last time, I will go do that.” He doesn’t say anything anymore and doesn’t let them speak before he’s getting up and heading straight toward where Itadori is currently wiping another table.

“Like father, like son, I guess then,” says Maki thoughtfully before snorting. “But still better the son than his father, no contest here.”

“Huh, what do you mean?” Perplexed, Nobara frowns at her words.

“His old man usually comes here on Friday afternoon and always requests Yuuji,” Maki explains with an expression of pure disgust. “Of course, he can’t do anything but, just the sight of him makes me wanna punch him.”

Blinking rapidly, Nobara gapes at her.

“Shouldn’t you like, call the police?”

“And say what? A customer is getting cozy with one of our own? He’s not the first and he’s not gonna be the last either,” Maki responds, sneering at the thought of the other … customers. “If anything he’s rather tame compared to some of the regulars.”

At the inquiring look on Nobara’s face, Maki deeply sighs.

“Trust me, you really really don’t wanna know.”

(“Say, Tsumiki.”

“Hmm, yes, Megumi?”

“Hypothetically speaking – ”

“Oh?”

“Yes, hypothetically speaking, if you have a friend who can’t get out of a shady situation, but by getting yourself involved to help them out, you come across as a bad guy, would you still do it? Even at the cost of your, um, friendship?”

“Well if it means my friend would be safe and well then yes, definitely, although it also depends on the situation itself. You just can’t jump in thoughtlessly, it might make the situation worse.”

Silence.

“Megumi, what’s your friend’s situation?”

“...”

“Megumi?”)

To be honest, there is something Megumi needed to speak to Itadori about. Something that will not do well to fall upon the ears of his friends, out of respect of Itadori’s private life. Something that had kept him up at night, imagining the worst. And unfortunately, Megumi has a very good imagination. By all accounts, it’s not even any of Megumi’s business what Itadori does in his free time – legally or not – but the reminder of his old man’s infuriating smirk – coupled with Itadori’s despairingly guiltless eyes – is enough to give him that last bit of courage to march up to the pink haired boy and strike up a much needed but awfully dreaded conversation.

(In hindsight, Megumi should have known better than take anything his father says at face value.)

“Itadori, about last time, thank you for getting me to the hospital in time.” Briefly hesitating, he adds, carefully avoiding at looking at anything besides Itadori’s eyes. This is not the time to getting distracted by ...clothing. “I owe you one.”

Eyes wide, Itadori waves his hands off.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t leave you there just bleeding out,” Then he rubs his chin, an endearing blush spreading on his cheeks. “Although, I realize that maybe it wasn’t the best to move you in that condition.”

“It’s fine,” Megumi shakes his head. “Better do something than nothing at all.”

A short awkward lapse of silence ensues before Megumi dredges up the will to address the elephant in the room.

“About, err, my old man,” He starts, words sticking at the back of his throat. He has to say this, he reminds himself determinedly, he has to give Itadori an out of whatever mess he’s involved with his father. “Whatever he offered you, I will double it.”

Itadori's expression freezes.

(To get to this precise, damning point, there are several hoops of (mistaken) reasoning that Megumi made before coming to this … unorthodox decision, but to be fair that’s not the important part. Better yet, that’s not even relevant. Megumi could spend hours justifying the long line of logical(?) attempts to understand whatever it is that has him convinced that his father has depraved intentions toward Itadori (intentions that he probably acted on), but it wouldn’t matter because if Megumi had to be honest with himself – under threat of death kind of honest, that is – it all boils down to one single sentence mumbled absently by his father during that drunken escapade that only Megumi managed to catch.

“Ya know, Yuu-chan… ‘f was... fifteen years youn’er, I’d ….. you.”

Afterwards, there was only one (wrongful) conclusion to come to.)

At the bewildered look on Itadori’s face, Megumi rushes to reassure him and yet can’t help but crowd himself closer to Itadori.

A few paces away, unnoticed by, Maki’s expression darkens.

The heeled boots gives a few inches to Itadori and he’s almost face to face with him. So Megumi is right up there when he sees the easy going smile Itadori has been sporting minutely waver.

“I won’t do anything, god of course not, I just wanted you to have an out in case things get really that bad, whatever reason that has you doing that ...stuff, I won’t judge.” So much for good eloquence, Megumi chastises. Just keep it short and to the point. Short and to the point, he repeats to himself.

“I’m not sure …I understand,” Itadori trails off slowly, eyes flickering briefly behind him.

Of course Itadori wouldn’t come out and say anything out loud. There might not be many customers around (It’s a Monday) but that doesn’t exclude the shame of talking about such subjects in open public space like this.

Leaning back, Megumi assesses his surroundings critically before grasping the hand of Itadori and dragging him back to the toilet slightly hidden behind a short wall.

“Itadori,” He exhales quietly. “Whatever it is you think is worth selling yourself for, I will not judge. I get that money must have been your main motivator but – ”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Raising a hand, Itadori stops him on his track and the speech that Megumi spent on many nights painstakingly in preparation for this event instantly evaporates at the sight of the incredulous but incredibly offended expression on Itadori’s face.

Oh shit, thinks Megumi.

“You think I’m selling my body to ...your father?”

Well, when it’s put like that…

And because today is definitely not Megumi’s day, the words escape on impulse.

“Aren’t you?”

The silence could not have been any more deafening than in that moment.

By now, the polite if nervous expression on Itadori has all but disappeared leaving in its wake the beginning of a maddeningly fetching shade of red spreading from his cheeks to his nose then down his neck and Megumi’s last cognitive faculties start making a run for it.

“I,” He tries to say something then stops because he has no idea what to say.

He has the horrible feeling, the daunting impression at the irate look on Itadori’s face that maybe, just maybe he might have irreversibly fucked up.

“Fushiguro-san,” Itadori eventually says, a blank look – which looks so wrong on Itadori’s expressive face Megumi feels like he’s looking at a stranger – aimed at him “I think you should leave.”

“Itadori,” He starts then gets interrupted.

“Whatever it is you think that happened between Toji-san and me is absolutely nothing of the sort,” The fierce words hit Megumi full force. “Toji-san has been kind to me and I do not, he did not – ” Watching Itadori struggle to speak has Megumi clenching his hands so hard he can feel the grooves on his skin, and not for the first time he rues the moment he opened his mouth.

Itadori glowers at him and continues, in steadily raising voice.

“I’m not sure how this misunderstanding came to be but Fushiguro-san, I’d like to ask you to please refrain from making such horrible assumptions about me.”

“That’s not what I meant – ”

“Fushiguro-san, regardless of what you mean I can’t let this slide – ”

“Itadori, listen to me – ”

“I don’t – ”

“What’s going on here?”

Maki’s voice, furious and loud, echoes followed by a hard shove at Megumi from the side.

Megumi allows Maki to push him only a little bit away from Itadori, dragging his eyes away from him to glower at Maki.

N o, no, he has to explain himself first –

“Maki-senpai, please do not interfere – ”

“I will interfere however I damn please, Megumi-chan,” She scowls right back at him, the taunt in her voice undeniable.

Turning back to Itadori, she asks while grasping Itadori’s hand and pushing him behind her. Megumi unwittingly lingers on the hand clasped around Itadori’s and he can feel his ugly side rear its head. He roughly squashes it.

“What did this moron do? One word, and I will punt him through the stratosphere.” Narrowing her eyes at him, Maki’s glasses can’t hide the glint of violence in her eyes.

Staring back at her, Megumi doesn’t cower.

“Don’t worry about it Maki-san, I’m okay, it was just ...a misunderstanding,” Itadori sighs.

“It looked like he was bothering you with non sense,” says Maki, unconvinced. “We don’t want another Ryomen situation now, do we?”

A complicated expression briefly flashes across Itadori’s face and Megumi frowns at it. For some reason, the ominous name sounds familiar.

“Ha! It always starts like this with y’all,” Grimacing, Maki tugs at Itadori then pushes him forward in the direction of a discreet door labeled with a silver plate of Employees only. “Your shift is almost over, right? You can go ahead already, I got this.”

“But – ” Whatever protest at the ready Itadori was about to make fades at the unmovable look on Maki’s face.

“Okaay, see you tomorrow, Maki-san,” Itadori relents with a put upon expression. Glancing one last time at Megumi, he ducks his head and moves away.

Staring at Itadori’s back, Megumi fails to notice the fist aimed at his side.

Grunting, he hunches forward hissing like a bristled cat.

“What was that for?!”

“I can’t believe we’re cousins, but then again Zenin blood never fail to make an appearance, huh,” Crossing her arms, Maki glowers at him. “You have five seconds to explain or I will make due on my promise to send you preemptively to wherever morons like you go.”

“I didn’t do anything – ”

“Obviously or I’d be already tearing you a new one. What did you say to Yuuji?”

“Yeah, Megumi-chan,” Nobara pitches up behind Maki, a few steps away enough that he hasn’t noticed her. “What did you say?”

Megumi debates quietly with himself whether it’s worth saying anything but by the look of it – and is Maki cracking her knuckles already, really Maki?! – he doesn’t have much of a choice.

What an absolute mess.

Sighing then leaning against the wall behind him, he starts explaining.

“Behind all those good grades and smart appearance, you’re actually pretty fucking stupid, huh, Fushiguro?” Says Nobara, impressed.

“Let me get this straight: you thought that Yuuji was some sort of underage prostitute who’s getting manipulated slash used by your father for the last three months all because your dumbass of an old man said some bullshit when he was drunk as fuck?” Reiterates Maki slowly, eyebrows pinched and mouth a thin line.

Admittedly, it does sound right out of a trashy romance novel when it’s said out loud like that. And yet, he doesn’t even read romance books.

“I think I might have jumped the gun too soon,” He reluctantly acknowledges, mortification welling up inside him when the full impact of his words to Itadori dawns on him.

“Whatever he offered you, I will double it.”

He thinks he’s gonna pass out. He has to leave the city, no, the country. Better yet, the entire side of this continent. Megumi can never show his face to Itadori ever again.

“You think?! That boat had already long sailed,” Snorting, Nobara continues, uncaring of Megumi’s glare. “If I were Itadori, I’d block you from my life. Then I’d pay someone to throw you under a bus.”

Such good friends he has, really.

“So what? You were hoping to come in like some knight in shining armor type and save the day? What are you, twelve?!” Maki’s outraged voice betrays the disbelief at such and Megumi winces at the volume.

“You made your point, Maki-senpai,” Megumi says curtly, rubbing his forehead. “I fucked up, clearly.”

Understatement of the fucking century. As loath to admit it, Megumi knows he can’t just leave things as they are. From the beginning, his old man had been toying with him, dropping innuendos that had Megumi want to claw up his father’s face. He should have known better than to follow blindly on the crumbs Toji had been misleading him on. In spite of that fact, it is also Megumi’s fault for immediately jumping to rash decisions and trying to involve himself in a situation he has no concrete knowledge on. Which is something of a rarity because Megumi isn’t known to be rash or impetuous when the situation calls for it.

But the worse of all: is that he hurt Itadori with his misguided assumptions.

Megumi can’t let things end like this.

“So now what?” Taking a sip from her milkshake, Nobara eyes the pale expression on his face with vague interest. “You gotta apologize, at the very least.”

Megumi grunts an affirmative.

“You can’t just apologize willy-nilly,” Maki begrudgingly agrees. “You’re the only tolerable cousin out of everyone in that sorry excuse of a family I happen to belong to, which is the only reason I’m willing to help out.”

“I thought you don’t consider yourself one among them.” He curls his lips at the reminder of his extended family, the term very loosely used.

“Neither do you and yet here we are.”

They both glare at each other.

“Anyways,” Nobara points a finger at him. “It’s gonna cost you, our help, that is.”

Slurping loudly, she continues while a wagging a finger at him, like some sort of condescending grandma at her disobedient grandson.

"You poor lost soul, the obstacles awaiting you are fit to defeat a king. Come to Nobara-nee-sama's humble -"

Next to her, Maki can't hide her vindictive grin.

God, he is already regretting this.