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He’s welcomed by a dance floor full of lively teenagers, bathed in the flashing colors of disco lights, dancing their hearts out to electrifying music too fast and too loud for his own liking.
Megumi wades through the crowd and searches for his friends among the sea of moving bodies. He finds Inumaki and Panda, engaged in a serious dance battle while Maki laughs at them. Inumaki catches his eye and Megumi flashes him a small wave before he continues his search.
It doesn’t take him long before he sees a familiar tuft of pink hair, the color standing out despite the large crowd and flashing lights. Megumi walks closer, following the sight.
There in the center of the dance floor are Itadori and Kugisaki, both grinning from ear to ear as they dance together, bodies moving rhythmically against each other. Megumi can’t help but smile as he watches Itadori effortlessly lift Kugisaki and twirl her around, her black dress flowing beautifully around her with the motion. Both Kugisaki and Itadori are laughing by the time Itadori puts her back to the ground, breaths knocked out of their lungs.
Megumi has always admired how his two friends have always managed to move so seamlessly together like two halves of a whole in whatever they do, whether it’s studying or dancing or bantering with each other.
He would’ve been completely fine with just watching them from the shadows — at least when it comes to dancing — but the three of them have always been drawn to each other, sensing whenever the other one is near.
It’s Itadori who notices him first.
“Fushiguro!”
Itadori flashes him a bright smile and slings an arm around his shoulder, with Kugisaki trailing after him, a wicked glint visible in her eyes.
“You look really good, Fushiguro!” Itadori tells him in a half-whisper, half-scream over the loud music, leaning into his ear. And you smell really good, Megumi thinks, but Kugisaki is already pulling his hand before he could formulate a reply.
The music changes into something fast and upbeat and what sounds like a Dua Lipa song. “This one’s my favorite, come on Fushiguro, let’s dance!” Kugisaki screams.
Megumi lets himself be pulled by Kugisaki to the center, with Itadori’s warm hands pushing him from behind, leaving no room for escape. They resume dancing, with Kugisaki on his left and Itadori on his right. Megumi knows he could never match his friends’ energy but he, too, starts moving awkwardly to the beat of the music.
Kugisaki stops moving. “Come on, Fushiguro! This can’t do!”
“What?”
“You got to put in a little more oomph!” Itadori chimes in.
“What?!”
Kugisaki starts to sway her hips with more fervor but before she could continue, the music suddenly stops. The students let out a collective protest. Itadori mumbles something about being interrupted right in the heat of the moment when their economics teacher, Nanami Kento, climbs up the stage and speaks into the mic.
“Sorry to interrupt your dancing but we’re now going to announce the Prom King and Queen of the Night.”
This time, the crowd lets out a collective ooohhh and the room gets filled with excited whispers. Megumi glances at both of his friends. If there’s anyone who’s deserving of the titles, he’s pretty sure it’s Kugisaki and Itadori no less.
Kugisaki looks downright stunning with her shape-hugging semi-sheer black dress, contrasted by the red lip gloss she’s wearing for the night.
Itadori, on the other hand, couldn’t look any more handsome, with the way his velvet suit fit his body, the orange color of his dress shirt complementing the pink shade of his hair. Megumi always knew that Itadori had always been more muscular than him, especially for their age; what he lacked in a few inches in height, he compensated well enough in his form. This fact was emphasized by the way Itadori’s clothes hugged his body in all the right places, and Megumi inwardly berated himself for entertaining these thoughts about his best friend, when he’s certain he’s never thought about Kugisaki in the same light.
Megumi feels his cheeks heat up. He realizes he’s been ogling Itadori. An incessant tapping on his shoulder pulls him back to the present.
“Fushiguro, go up to the stage now! You’re the Prom King!” Kugisaki half-yells.
He’s the...what?
“You are the Prom King, Fushiguro!” Itadori practically screams at his face. “Hurry up and claim your throne!”
Megumi feels himself get shoved forward and so he does as instructed, his feet moving on autopilot as he walks up to the stage. He gets welcomed by Gojo, who instantly pulls him into a hug before ruffling his hair (he seems more enthusiastic about this award than Megumi). Shoko who wraps the sash around him and makes sure it was snug around his suit. He gets passed around to Principal Yaga, who puts the crown above his head.
Megumi thinks he hears a Gojo-esque cheering behind him. He doesn’t bother to turn around and confirm.
Large hands guide him to the front and center of the stage, where blinding spotlights shine on his person. Megumi squints against the light; he could barely make out the faces of the crowd from way up here, much less hear what his fellow students are saying, but he thinks he hears a “Good job, pretty boy!” from what suspiciously sounded like Kugisaki.
Beside him, Nanami moves on to announcing his equal — the Prom Queen of the Night. The crowd cheered below him.
Ah, of course.
He knows it’s silly — no, it’s downright, foolish, but Megumi still lets his mind stray to the thought of pink hair neatly groomed into an undercut, a tight-fitting velvet suit, and a bright smile.
Things are now changing, but of course, they have to choose a Prom Queen. Megumi knows it’s too much to ask for — Jujutsu Tech can’t have two Prom Kings for their first-ever prom night — but he can’t help but wish.
The Prom Queen, Mai Zen’in — Megumi’s senior and second cousin — saunters up the stage a minute later, her glossy lips forming into an easy smile as she accepts her sash and crown.
She’s totally deserving of the title; she looks effortlessly beautiful in her tight-fitting gown made of emerald silk that clings to her curves. Unlike Megumi, Mai is one of those students who always loved and knew how to work the spotlight, and so it doesn’t come as a surprise when seconds later, she snakes a hand around his arm and waves and smiles at the crowd as if they are truly royalty currently on their tour.
The lights dim out and a slow song filters in from the hall’s speakers, giving way to a mellow guitar intro. Something in the air shifts.
Megumi may have never attended a school dance prior to this but he’s watched enough Western teen movies with Itadori to know that this is the part for all the established and would-be couples, where the hopeless romantic it-girl and boy-next-door finally confess their attraction for each other.
Megumi lets himself be led to the dance floor for the second time that night. Mai puts her hands on top of his shoulders and he places tentative palms on her waist in return.
If this is one of those cliché teen movies, Megumi would be dancing with the love of his life right now instead of his distant relative. And when the chorus of the song fades in, he would be leaning in close and his dance partner would be meeting him halfway.
Maybe he is the hopeless romantic in this narrative.
Out of the corner of his eye, Megumi spots Kugisaki chatting with Maki. Despite the dim lights, he notices that the two girls are wearing matching corsages on their wrists. Megumi sways idly, and that’s when he sees Itadori on his three o’clock, dancing slowly with a girl.
Ah.
The words of the chorus ring clear in his ears and Megumi realizes he knows the song after all.
An oath of silence
I swore to myself
It makes me all the more confused
“Hey, Prom King, could you at least pretend you’re happy to be dancing with me?”
Megumi’s attention drifts back to Mai. Megumi coughs, stares at everything but Itadori. The lights overhead bathe them in faded pinks and blues. He tries to ignore the heavy feeling now lodging in his chest.
I wasn't sure you understood
That I feel a certain way
But I don't want things to change
Mai glances in Itadori’s direction then gives Megumi’s shoulders a squeeze. Mai’s staring at him meaningfully now and Megumi remembers why he’s always favored Maki over her, despite the two girls being twins.
“That’s Yuko, isn’t it?” Mai asks.
Megumi stares at his feet. “Yeah.”
“The one who confessed to Itadori last week.” Megumi almost forgot how fast news travels around among his peers.
“Yeah.”
I swore to the heavens
I swore to the sea
I swore that I would make you
Stay with me
Mai chuckles. “You like him, don’t you?”
His head snaps up, eyes widening in surprise. Mai heaves a sigh and pats him on the cheek.
“Go ask him for a dance, you idiot,” Mai says, “You’re the Prom King, for fuck’s sake.”
Megumi feels his chest constrict with something he can’t place.
“I think I need to get some air,” he excuses himself and detaches from Mai’s grasp.
The song changes into something a little more upbeat but still quiet enough for the rest of the crowd to continue their slow dancing.
Megumi takes off his crown and his sash as he weaves his way through the sea of dancing bodies, some of them pressed too closely than their school would normally allow. He hears hushed conversations and muted laughter as he passes by.
Everyone seems to be having fun tonight while Megumi’s here, trying not to burst at the seams.
He reaches the mocktail bar at one corner of the hall, where he finds Yuuta lounging by himself. Yuuta greets him with a warm smile and hands him a filled cup, which Megumi takes without a word and downs in one go.
“You okay?” Yuuta asks.
He responds with a thumbs up as he downs another drink.
From where he’s standing, he sees Itadori, who’s now leaning forward as he listens intently to whatever Yuko was whispering in his ear. Itadori laughs, eyes crinkling as he does so. He turns around and Megumi meets his eyes.
Megumi feels his heart skip, the pain back in his chest. He hurriedly throws his used cups to the bin, pats Yuuta on the shoulder as a way of goodbye, and all but marches outside the hall. He chooses to ignore the worried look that Yuuta gives him.
It shouldn’t hurt like this, Megumi thinks as he wanders off to the school garden, the music fading in the background as he walks farther and farther away. It shouldn’t hurt, Megumi reprimands himself, if only he kept his feelings in check.
Itadori is his best friend. Sure, Itadori’s cute...anybody who has eyes can see that. But he’s also annoyingly charming and funny and kind to a fault and has this amazing ability to make anyone warm up to him within minutes of being in his company.
He has many qualities that could make anyone fall in love with him but that doesn’t change the fact that he is Megumi’s best friend . Itadori may have invited him to a few movie nights where it’s just the two of them or may talk to him on the phone more often but Megumi has accepted the fact that that’s just who Itadori is; he’s pretty sure he does it to Kugisaki and his other friends too.
The thing is Megumi has no issue with liking a boy. He’s not even sure if he likes boys exclusively; Gojo once told him he’s still probably discovering that part of himself because he’s only fifteen and that’s okay.
What grates his nerves is how he ended up developing a crush on Itadori, of all people, when Itadori has probably never looked at him in the same way, and has shown him nothing but pure kindness. He couldn’t even bear to imagine how Kugisaki will react if she finds out about Megumi’s feelings.
He doesn’t want to complicate their friendship and he definitely doesn’t want to lose Itadori.
Megumi sits down on a bench with his head in his hands. Spring nights are relatively cold but his cheeks feel warm and all he could think about is Itadori, Itadori, Itadori.
Maybe the mocktails Yuuta gave him earlier were spiked after all.
He’s been awarded as the Prom King and he should also be having the time of his life while dancing with his friends. Yet here he is, having a pathetic gay crisis about his best friend all by himself.
“Fushiguro?”
Megumi startles, almost jumps out of his seat when the root of his problems materializes right behind him. He’s thought so much about Itadori in a matter of minutes that he literally manifested him. Megumi gives himself five seconds before he lifts his head up, schooling his face into his best neutral expression.
“Itadori.”
“There you are,” Itadori smiles and sits beside him. He’s sitting a little closer than usual, their knees are almost touching, and Megumi undergoes another internal conflict on whether he likes that fact or not. He decides he doesn’t really mind.
“I was looking for you, you just suddenly disappeared,” Itadori tells him, eyebrows creasing into a worried expression. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
Megumi nods, straightens his posture. “Yeah. I just wanted some air.”
“The crowd got a bit too much for you?”
He thinks about Yuko and Itadori, then about what Mai told him. Go ask him for a dance, you idiot.
“Yeah, I guess. I’m tired.”
Itadori laughs weakly. He stares at the sky and Megumi mimics him. The skies are clear tonight, the tiny stars visibly flickering above them. Megumi’s feelings are still jumbled and conflicted.
He feels Itadori’s eyes shift towards him. Itadori shuffles in his seat. Megumi tries not to melt under the weight of his gaze.
“Hey, Fushiguro.”
Megumi looks at him. Itadori holds his gaze. His face is serious for a moment before it morphs into a fond smile.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Megumi stares at the ground. No, I can’t. Not anything. Not this. Anything but this.
He flashes Itadori what he hopes is a small, decent smile.
“Thanks.”
“Congratulations on winning Prom King, by the way!” Itadori says, smiling widely, steering the conversation into a more cheerful note. He gives Megumi’s arm a squeeze. “You totally deserve it!”
“Thank you.”
Itadori’s smile lingers. “You’re truly the most good-looking among us men tonight,” Then, he adds in a quieter tone. “No, not just tonight. Has always been.”
Megumi feels a blush creep upon his face. Itadori is not making his situation any easier.
“Uhm, thanks.”
Itadori chuckles nervously. “Phew, at least I finally let that out. I’ve always wanted to tell you that. Ahahaha.”
Well.
Megumi looks at him and Itadori’s already looking back.
“You’ve always wanted to tell me what? ” He asks.
“That I think you’re pretty,” Itadori admits and between the two of them, he has the audacity to be the one to look bashful.
“You think I’m pretty,” Megumi repeats, wincing at how he seems like he’s just quoting Mean Girls right now.
“I think you’re really pretty,” Itadori answers and Megumi has to steady his breath.
Itdaori continues. “I also think you’re really smart and cool and dependable and sometimes funny, without even meaning to! You’re perceptive and you’re a man of few words but you really care deeply about people, and I love that about you.”
Itadori scratches his face, like he sometimes does when he’s shy. Megumi didn’t expect to be perceived this way. He’s flattered and happy but he also kind of wants the ground to just swallow him whole.
Itadori inhales, as if gathering courage for what he’s about to say next. “And uhm, I feel really happy and comfortable whenever I’m with you, like I could just be myself without having to worry about anything.”
It’s out of his mouth before Megumi could stop himself. “You don’t feel comfortable around Kugisaki?” Stupid.
Itadori snorts. “Of course, I do! She’s my best friend.”
“How about Yuko?”
“ Okay, I guess I’m comfortable around other people too,” Itadori says, “But they don’t make me actively think about holding their hand or kissing them in the way that you make me feel, Fushiguro.”
Megumi flushes a deep red. And because he doesn’t know how to respond, he just says the first thing his muddled-brain supplies. “You make me feel the same way too.”
They fall quiet for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze.
They both lean in at the same time. Megumi has half a mind to flutter his eyes shut when Itadori’s lips press against his.
He awfully realizes that they’re still out in an open space and anybody could walk by and see them but all rational thought leaves Megumi’s body when Itadori grabs him by the back of his head and pulls him closer to deepen the kiss. And for once, Megumi forces his brain to stop overthinking.
Itadori kisses him slowly but with the heat of a primal desire, like he’s the one who has yearned for Megumi all these months and not the other way around. Megumi tries his best to keep up with Itadori’s pace but a muffled sound escapes his throat when Itadori nips at his lower lip. His hands wrap around Itadori’s back and claws onto his shirt for support. He feels so warm. Itadori is so incredibly warm. He feels like a star exploding into a million pieces.
They pull apart to catch their breath but neither of them moves to lean back. Itadori knocks their foreheads gently together and combs his fingers through Megumi’s hair. At this distance, Megumi can clearly see the tiny crescent scars that mark the skin under Itadori’s eyes.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Itadori breathes each word heavily, “Do you want to dance with me?”
Megumi answers him with another soft kiss.