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One of the first things Megumi noticed about Gojo, aside from how annoying he was, was how much he liked physical affection. One of his favorite things to do, it seemed, was to ruffle the Fushiguro kids’ hair. Even in their very first interaction, Gojo made a show of patting Megumi’s head and messing up his already unruly hair. Gojo had also taken to pinching their cheeks, tapping their shoulders to get attention, holding their hands whenever they walked somewhere. He would flick Megumi’s forehead with his finger when he scolded him.
Megumi had no particular liking for it, he thought all the touchiness was to irritate him. But, there was something really strange about it, something he only noticed the first time Gojo hugged him.
-
Megumi’s standard nightmare routine was simple; he’d have a nightmare, and wake up to Gojo gently shaking his shoulder, and handing him a hot beverage to soothe him. They had been doing this same routine for months, ever since Gojo took them in. This night started no differently. Megumi had a nightmare, only to wake up yet again with that touch on his shoulder. However, this time it didn’t comfort him. He had dreamt of both Tsumiki and Gojo dying, or leaving, this time. Inconsolable, Megumi had reached out instinctively to cling to Gojo’s shirt. Gojo was stunned for a moment before he pulled the crying boy into his chest, wrapping his arms around his back. Megumi could feel the tears stop streaking down his cheeks, because there was something wrong about the hug. He couldn’t feel it. Some invisible barrier was blocking Gojo’s arms from reaching him.
Experimentally, Megumi placed a hand on Gojo’s chest. At least, he tried to. His hand seemed to float just above Gojo, unable to reach him. Bewildered, Megumi glanced up at Gojo’s face, and whispered, “Gojo?”
“Sorry about that, buddy. You see, I have this thing called Infinity that prevents anything from touching me.” Gojo held out his hand to demonstrate it again. “It helps keep me from getting hurt.”
Megumi sat for a moment, contemplating the information.
“You don’t need to be protected from anything here; this is your home.”
Gojo seemed stunned.
“Here.”
And with that, Infinity was dropped.
The two of them flinched at the sudden contact. Megumi tucked himself into his adopted dad’s chest. Gojo was warm, he noticed. His shirt was soft. He smelled sweet, like sugar and chocolate. One of Gojo’s hands came up to comb through Megumi’s messy hair, massaging his scalp. The boy sighed at the gesture, clinging onto Gojo’s shirt. He felt safe, enclosed in warmth he’d never felt before.
After some time, Gojo asked, “Are you feeling better now, ‘Gumi?”
There was no response. Gojo looked down to see Megumi sleeping, drooling on Gojo’s shirt. He let out a soft laugh, tucked the kid back into bed, and left.
-
Megumi reached out to Gojo to hold his hand the first time at the mall. They were going shopping together to get gifts for Tsumiki’s birthday. They had had no luck so far, but that wouldn’t stop Gojo from trying. He’d do his best to give her something she’d love.
The mall was very crowded today, the downside of coming on the weekends. The two of them headed over to a clothing store Tsumiki loved, and it was even more packed with people than the other places. Gojo was okay with that, but a quick glance at Megumi showed that the boy wasn’t.
Megumi seemed very overwhelmed, glancing around nervously from where he stood hiding behind Gojo’s pant leg. As they stopped walking, Megumi reached a small hand out to clutch at Gojo’s. His attempt was stopped by Infinity, and Megumi looked down, rejected and dejected. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
Ever observant, Gojo noticed something was wrong. Megumi looked even more upset than before, fidgeting with his hands and not meeting Gojo’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, kiddo?”
“It- it’s nothing.”
Gojo dropped Infinity and took his kid’s hand. He knew too much.
“Come on, then! We don’t want to get separated, right ‘Gumi? Don’t get lost on me now!”
Megumi squeezed his hand. If a small smile crept onto Megumi’s face, he was the only one who knew.
-
Megumi had grown affectionate of the touches he’d get throughout the day. He liked holding his dad’s hand as they crossed the road, he only pretended to hate it when Gojo ruffled his hair or pinched his cheek, and he especially enjoyed the rare occasions Gojo or Tsumiki would hug him. His favorite was none of these though.
Megumi was afraid of many things. He was scared of storms, of monsters that only he could see, but most importantly of all he was afraid of being alone. His biological parents had left him a long time ago now. He was in middle school, but the effect their abandonment had on him still consumed him. And sometimes, everything became too much for him.
Megumi was curled up on the chair next to the window in his room. An ache, so strong and palpable it made his bones hurt, weighed down on his entire body. He would cry, if he could. But he couldn’t.
Tomorrow marked the anniversary of when Gojo took them in. He had stayed with them for years, but Megumi still didn’t trust that he would stay. After all, why would he?
Spiraling in his own thoughts, wracked with emotional agony, Megumi didn’t notice when someone entered his room. Gojo looked at him questioningly, concerned. The boy still paid him no attention. Gojo wordlessly asked if it was okay to touch him, tapping him gently to do so. Megumi nodded.
And so Gojo picked him up, carried him over to his bed, and sat down, settling Megumi in his lap. Once the boy was secure, he snuggled him close. Gojo pulled a fluffy blanket around both of them. He ran his hand through Megumi’s hair, just the way he liked it. Safe, Megumi thought, this is what safety feels like. Maybe Gojo wouldn’t leave?
Gojo, feeling the change in him, moved to get up, shifting the boy off his lap. Megumi immediately gripped his sleeve, preventing him from leaving. Gojo made a startled sound and stopped moving. Gojo whispered, “Do you want me to stay?”
Embarrassed, Megumi tucked his face into his own arm, letting go of Gojo.
Gojo breathed out a laugh, and whispered, “Move over, Gumi.”
Megumi obliged. They both curled up into each other under the soft blankets of Megumi’s bed. Megumi relished the contact, taking the front of Gojo’s shirt in his hands. Warm and cozy, he began to drift to sleep. He could make out Gojo’s voice, saying, “I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
He slept the best he ever had that night. Megumi also learned that he loved cuddling the most so far.
-
A few years had passed when something happened. The first of many tragedies. Gojo had come home from a mission, one said to be like a war. He had come home with regret in his eyes and dried tears down his cheeks.
Megumi and Tsumiki were up waiting for Gojo, worried he wouldn’t make it back. He stumbled into the door late at night. The kids immediately rushed to greet him.
Gojo was uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes were visible, rubbed red. Exhaustion exuded from him, and he dropped down to sit on the floor. Megumi reached out and touched his face, noticing the dirt and dried tears crusted onto his skin.
Gojo reached out and snuggled both kids into his chest, rubbing Megumi’s back. Gojo trembled, choking back sobs. They all remained silent, unsure of what to do. Megumi, attempting to comfort his dad, combed his fingers through his hair. Just like how Gojo did for him.
Something soft pressed against the top of Megumi’s head. He glanced up, and Gojo kissed his forehead again. He leaned over to the other side to do the same to Tsumiki.
And with that, Megumi understood.
They spent the rest of the night curled up, eventually falling asleep on the living room floor. An outside eye would say they looked just like a real family. And they would be right.
-
Gojo continued to show his fondness for his kids as much as he could through touch. Even though little things like holding their hands or ruffling their hair was more common, Megumi’s favorite thing was when Gojo cuddled him, or gave him a quick peck on the forehead. Wrapped up in the arms of someone who clearly cared so deeply for him, Megumi had never felt safer.