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He's small, is Gojo's first thought as he finishes explaining the entire situation. He tries not to stand up too tall, slouching his shoulders to appear less intimidating in his head-to-toe jujutsu garb. This first meeting between the two is a bit unorthodox—Gojo making the whole situation worse as he wiggles his fingers rather creepily at the idea of having a potentially strong jujutsu sorcerer by his side (with a little polishing, Gojo thinks he'll be his greatest asset).
Not that it really matters to Megumi. A second passes and his face shifts from neutral to a full on scowl. He's looking at Gojo like he's dog shit at the bottom of a shoe and he would like for nothing more than to scrape the rubber sole onto pavement.
Alright, he's got a bit of an attitude, is Gojo's second thought as he holds in a snicker. Nice to know the kid isn't a total pushover.
"So, kid," he starts as he wags a finger in the air. "You're probably hungry, right? How about I take you to eat something nearby before we head on off to the college to make it official? I'll get some people to take care of things at home along with your sister."
Megumi merely stares at him as an answer. Okay, sure, his lack of tact isn't exactly something worth praising, but Gojo feels that some cheer is exactly what Megumi would want to hear after being told that his dad was planning to sell him off to the Zen'in clan for a quick buck.
(To be frank, Gojo's cheer is the last thing Megumi wanted to hear after being told his negligent father was meaning to sell him to one of the most powerful jujutsu clans in Japan while also leaving him and his sister behind after doing God knows what. Though, Megumi figures that his dad probably gambled what little money they had on something stupid and lost. His dad was always making dumb bets.)
"C'mon, aren't you hungry?" Gojo asks. He checks his wrist watch and sees the time is nearing seven in the evening. "There're a couple nice spots in the area. Tell ya what," he leans down with an easygoing smile on his face, "I'll even let ya pick where you wanna eat. My treat."
Before he can object, Megumi's stomach speaks for him. It's a loud rumble for a grade schooler, one that causes him to turn pink in the face as he presses both arms on his abdomen as a means to hush his body. Gojo throws his head back and laughs which earns him another glare.
"Fine," Megumi says. He casts his eyes to the ground in an attempt to avoid Gojo's gaze. Something about his eyes unnerved him in ways he couldn't describe. "But I get to pick."
Gojo gives a lackadaisical wave in agreement as he whips his cell phone out to call up a driver. He doesn't miss Megumi looking back over his shoulder to stare up at the window of the apartment he lives at.
Even though the two just met, Gojo can already tell that Megumi's a good kid.
It doesn't take long for Megumi to pick a place to eat at as soon as the pair are dropped off closer to the city.
He weaves through the crowd and doesn't even bother to look back to check if Gojo is following him as he effortlessly navigates himself to a small bistro located between two boutiques hidden in a red brick alleyway. Upon first glance, it looks almost run down, like it belongs in some sort of renovation channel they would show on some late night cable network, but Gojo decides to keep his mouth shut about this part.
"This the place?" he asks. He almost adds an "Are you sure?" but holds his tongue.
Megumi nods and looks up at him, as if searching for approval. When Gojo shrugs his shoulders, Megumi trots on inside first. They both take their shoes off at the front of house (while Megumi unties his shoes in a gentle manner, Gojo uses his toes to drag the backside of his boots off, practically tossing them to the side afterwards) and are promptly seated by a kind looking hostess who coos at Megumi and asks where his father is. He can only shake his head as an answer and, for a second, her features flicker to a sympathetic gaze.
There's barely anyone in the bistro which Gojo thinks is odd because it's prime time for dinner. The only patrons inside sit at the very corner of the room with a half empty bottle of sake on the table as they speak in whispers and toss faded playing cards in front of themselves. When they notice Megumi and Gojo enter, they stop talking and lazily look up. Megumi gives a half bow in their direction and they slowly wave back at him, their eyes lingering on Gojo before pouring another glass of sake and continuing on with their conversation.
When they're seated at a low table, menus are handed out and Megumi doesn't even open his. Instead, he starts to pour two small cups of iced barley tea for him and Gojo. Good manners for a kid, he thinks.
"Been here before?" Gojo asks, feigning that he doesn’t already know the answer. Megumi hums in response, keeping his posture perfect as he waits for Gojo to make his selection. "Well, what's good here?"
Megumi opens his menu and points at multiple dishes. "I like to get yakitori or beef curry." He pauses as he stares at the picture of the food. "The gyudon is good too."
So he likes meat. Pretty typical for a growing boy his age.
"Alrighty," Gojo says as he shakes his head to some sort of imaginary beat. He had already made his decision a while back. "Then I'll get the sashimi bowl."
Megumi frowns, throwing daggers with his gaze which causes Gojo to cackle like an evil cartoon character.
"Why even ask...?"
"Why not?" Gojo counters. "I like to hear what you're thinking."
His answer is less than satisfying, but Megumi chooses to ignore it because, even though he's only known Gojo for half an hour, he can tell that he's the kind of guy who'll lead you in circles just for the hell of it. So instead, he calms himself down and blankly stares at him as he closes his menu with a single hand.
With the way he acts, Gojo never would have thought he was a first grader. But then again, having a father like Fushiguro Toji would probably make any person grow up at the speed of light because how else would a kid survive with the world's most negligent dad? Certainly not by depending on him, of course.
There's a shared silence between the two until the same hostess from before waltzes on to their table with a notepad in hand. Megumi ends up ordering two dishes—beef curry and yakitori—to which Gojo looks him up and down, wondering if he can actually stomach all the food. He reckons that Toji probably just starved his kids.
(The real reasoning as to why Megumi ordered two dishes is because he wants to make a dent in Gojo's wallet. He doesn't know too much about money, but the few times he actually got to eat out with his dad, he always ordered something cheap and even then, his dad would scowl at the bill. He hopes Gojo ends up grumbling about the bill much like his dad did.)
When it's just the two of them again, Gojo takes a sip of his tea and then gets another good look at Megumi. Even though he's young, he's practically the splitting image of Fushiguro Toji. His cheeks are just a little bit plumper, his eyes a little rounder, and his hair more on the wild side, but in a few years time, he'll grow up to look just like his dad.
"You're making that face again," Megumi grunts out. "It's weird."
Gojo relaxes all the muscles in his body. Even though he hates Toji with his entire being, he knows it would be wrong to displace it onto Megumi. "You just look like him is all."
Megumi's eyes narrow as he stares into his cup of iced tea. He taps a finger on the ceramic which causes a ripple on the surface. "I already told you that I don't care."
"I know."
"Then stop bringing him up."
Gojo lets out a light sigh. He remembers how feisty and smart mouthed he was as a kid, but dealing with Megumi actually brought upon a small pang of guilt as he thought about his old caretakers at his family home. In the back of his mind, he tacks a mental note to apologize to them for his attitude.
"How about we talk about that cursed technique of yours?" Gojo asks to change the subject. He wiggles his hands again to add more dramatic flair in hopes that Megumi might respond more enthusiastically to the conversation. "Remember when I mentioned it before in front of your place?"
"I remember," Megumi says, ignoring Gojo's theatrics. He claps his hands together and positions his fingers in a way that puppets the head of a dog. "When there are shadows around me, I can make animals pop up." He takes a second to think, putting his hands down by his side. "Sometimes they come out, sometimes they don't. It depends on my mood."
With the manifestation of such a powerful technique, it's no wonder why Toji kept Megumi as his trump card against the Zen'in clan. He has no proper training or understanding of jujutsu, but Gojo finds it rather impressive that he's able to come to some sort of distinction with the success of his technique.
"When it comes to jujutsu," Gojo begins, "a lot of cursed energy is needed in order to manifest techniques like yours."
Megumi's brows furrow together as he tries to understand what Gojo is saying. "Cursed energy?"
"Not the kind of energy you get from eating food, but the kind of energy that comes from humans and within ourselves." He lowers his shades and gets a good look at Megumi as he jabs his thumb at his chest. "Hate. Jealousy. Pain. The energy from these kinds of emotions are what fuels you to be able to manipulate the shadows."
Slowly, Megumi comes to a realization. On the days when he's bitter at the world for dealing him the worst hand possible, for giving him the worst father possible, that's when the shadows emerge, sprouting to life as a means of comfort to him. And then, on days when things are easy and he can forget about his worries, he finds that the shadows melt away and refuse to bend to his will, hiding no matter how hard he tries to coax them to his side.
Sitting across, Gojo's eyes light up with intrigue. He knows exactly what Megumi's thinking, not only through the tightening of his little fists, but also through the sudden spark of energy he can sense. For such a small kid, he has too much potential to ignore.
Before he can point out Megumi's flare, three plates are promptly placed on the low table.
"Enjoy!" the hostess from before says, sending a big smile Megumi's way. He snaps out of his trance and stares at the two dishes that are meant to be his.
"Well, we can finish off this talk at a later time," Gojo says as he quickly snaps a picture of his meal with his phone. He thinks it'd be nice to brag to Yaga about his little detour before going back to the college.
("Satoru, we instructed you to come back as soon as possible," is probably what Yaga will say. "What in the world took you so long?"
And he'll give Yaga his trademark sly Gojo Satoru smile.
"Important business," Gojo plans to respond back while pulling out his phone to show off his sashimi bowl. "Some... fishy business in the area."
He can't wait to say the punchline.)
Megumi doesn't argue (nor does he care enough to do so now that there's food in front of him that isn’t a boiled cup of ramen noodles) and gives his thanks for the meal before digging into the beef curry first. The rice is warm and soft, cooked to perfection by his standards as he spoons a carrot drenched in the sauce with a bit of pickled ginger for his first bite. His hand is a bit shaky from how hungry he is, but he still chooses to eat in a dignified manner rather than scarfing the entire plate down like a hungry wolf.
His body practically melts after eating the first spoonful. It had been months since he last visited this place, and he really thought he never would have been able to come back since his dad's been gone for so long.
"Enjoying it, kid?"
He snaps out of his reverie and straightens up. The air around him suddenly feels a bit more sour.
"It's okay," Megumi quietly says as he pokes at the bed of rice more slowly this time.
"Really? Just okay?" Gojo turns his phone so that Megumi can see the screen. He scowls at the picture he's being shown of himself, obviously in a state of bliss after eating the first bite. "This doesn't look like the face of someone who thinks the food is just"—he curls two fingers in the air with his free hand—"'okay,' don't you think?"
Megumi stares at the photo, his eyes going thinner and thinner until he finally shuts them, taking a deep breath to calm his little grade schooler self. Never in his life has he ever wanted to cause a scene in public until he met Gojo Satoru.
"It's good," he finally admits with a staccato-like resistance to his words. "It's really, really good."
Gojo smiles and pockets his phone. "See! Now was that so hard to admit?"
He says nothing and cuts a potato in half with his spoon, focusing on his food rather than the overgrown idiot sitting in front of him.
"You'll grow to love me," Gojo teases. He cackles wickedly at the look of distaste Megumi sends his way. "Everyone loves me, and you're no exception. See, you can start thinking of me as your mentor right now, which makes you the luckiest apprentice because I'm the most powerful..."
His words are like radio static to Megumi at this point as he grabs one of the yakitori skewers and chomps off a piece of chicken at the end. The glaze used is a bit on the sweeter side, but he likes it nonetheless. It's a familiar taste that he missed.
For the rest of the meal, Gojo continues talking, pushing on Megumi's buttons in an attempt to get some sort of rise out of him in the same manner a child would bang their hand on the glass of a gorilla exhibit to get its attention. The two soon reach a balance in conversation, Megumi quickly learning that the best way to appease Gojo is by lackluster responses to whatever he has to say (and much to his dismay, he has quite a lot to say).
Surprisingly, Megumi cleans out both of his plates to which Gojo snaps another picture, this time with himself in the frame as well. When Megumi asks, he's met with a one worded response of "Commemorative!" which really doesn't answer anything, but he decides not to question it aloud.
"Enjoyed it, kid?" Gojo asks, feigning that he doesn't know the answer.
Megumi's mouth twists in a way similar to eating a lemon as he refuses to answer. Again, Gojo laughs and shows off that little photo of him he took at the beginning of the meal. He says nothing, merely hoping to one day be left in a room alone with his phone and let it disappear under "mysterious" circumstances.
"It was okay," he reluctantly says. "The food... tasted good."
At this, Gojo chuckles and stands up to pay the bill, leaving him alone for the first time that night. He walks with his hands in his pockets, his lanky legs carrying him to the front of the bistro. With the exception of the two men sitting at the corner of the room still sharing the same sake bottle, Megumi and Gojo are the only ones there. He doesn't really mind and sits patiently, knowing that Gojo will return back soon to take him to the college.
Megumi will never admit it to Gojo's face, but he truly did enjoy his first meal with him. He wonders if there'll be a next time.