Work Text:
By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.
“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.
“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?
The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”
“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.
“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.”
Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.
“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”
“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.
“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”
Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.
Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.
Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…
He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.
But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.
And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.
Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.
But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.
✧ ✧ ✧
Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.
What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”
As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.
“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.
Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.
“Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.
“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.
You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.
“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.
“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.
“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.
“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.
“Yeah,” Megumi says again.
Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.
“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.
Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”
“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.
He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.
How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?
But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.
Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.
“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.
“How old are you?”
Whoops.
It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.
You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”
Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.
But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.
That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.
“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”
The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.
There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.
Wait, if you’re his age, then…
“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.
Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.
“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?
There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—
“Hello there!”
Megumi knows that voice.
Oh no.
“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.
Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.
“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.
Megumi glances to the side.
A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.
“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”
Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.
“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”
“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”
Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.
“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.
“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.
“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”
“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”
Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”
“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”
“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.
Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.
“Fushiguro!”
Oh no.
Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.
“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.
Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.
Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.
Unfortunately, it’s not.
You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”
Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”
A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.
Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –
Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?
You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—
“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.
Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”
“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.
“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”
In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.
“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.
Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—
“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.
“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”
If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.
Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—
“Hey, Megumi?”
He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.
“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.
Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.
“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.
Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.
In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”
One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.
“How much?” Megumi asks.
You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”
Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.
Somehow.
“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.
Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.
“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—
“Wait, Megumi!”
He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.
And around his wrist is… is…
He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—
“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.
It brings him back to the moment.
“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.
You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”
Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.
This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.
As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.
“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”
Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.