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“There’s a lot of pictures of Fushiguro in your house,” Yuji observed. He threw himself onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Like, on the walls and everything.”
“They’re good, aren’t they?” Gojo agreed, sitting opposite him. Megumi sank into the seat next to Gojo’s, expression resigned.
“How’d you get them?” Nobara asked. She had already plonked herself on the sofa immediately after coming in.
“I took them,” Gojo answered, confused. Megumi sighed and stood up again.
“I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Get me one!” Gojo called after him. Megumi’s answering middle finger was obviously agreement enough, as Gojo settled back into his chair with a satisfied air. Turning back to Yuji, he continued, “I went through a photography phase and Megumi was right there, so.”
“I forgot you knew him when he was younger,” Yuji hummed. Nobara flopped an arm over the back of the sofa.
“Can’t see why you’d take photos of him, though. He never did anything.” She gestured to the series of pictures along the front wall, all portraits of Megumi on his 3DS.
“Oh, I only put the boring ones on the wall,” Gojo shrugged. “He wasn’t meant to look like he was having fun.”
“They would have taken me away,” Megumi nodded, re-entering the room. He handed Gojo a can as he passed.
“They?”
“The people,” Gojo said mysteriously. He opened the can, foam spurting everywhere. “Gumi! You shook up the can, didn’t you!”
“Phrase it like a question and I might answer.”
“Did you shake up the can?”
“Yes.”
“Called it.” Gojo took a sip, leaving him with a foam moustache. “But anyway, I have fun pictures somewhere. Maybe.”
“I don’t believe Fushiguro ever had fun,” Yuji announced. “He has always been antisocial and boring.”
“Rude,” Gojo huffed. He looked over at Megumi. “Defend yourself, at least!”
“I don’t mind. If he thinks I’m antisocial he won’t make me do anything.”
“He’s not antisocial,” Nobara interjected. “He gets his nails done with me every month.”
Megumi flashed blue nails in Yuji’s direction.
“No fair! I want to join!” Yuji objected, pouting. “Red ones.”
“Green,” Nobara bargained. “I get red, so you can’t.”
“Yellow,” Yuji compromised. Nobara nodded.
“You can come, but only if you bring tea.”
“Like, the leaves?”
“No, like gossip,” Megumi interrupted impatiently. Gojo grinned proudly, reaching over to pat Megumi on the head.
“That’s my Megs,” he said fondly. “Good to know you keep the traditions alive.” His expression suddenly dropped. “But why can’t you gossip with me?! I have loads I want to tell you-“
“-Then tell me. No-one’s stopping you.”
“Not here,” Gojo hissed. “There’s people.”
Megumi eyed Nobara and Yuji. “…..You’re right. We’ll do lunch next week.”
Nobara looked very offended; Yuji bounced over to Megumi’s seat to grab his shoulders.
“Fushigurooooo~” he sing-songed, shaking Megumi back and forth. “Hang out with me next week toooooo~”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Megumi grabbed Yuji’s wrists. “Just stop shaking me.”
“Yeah!” Yuji punched the air. “Hanging out with Fushiguro!”
“I’m so happy for you,” Gojo sniffed. “He never hangs out with me.”
“He literally just said he’d hang out with you next week,” Nobara reminded him. “Take a chill pill.”
Gojo huffed. “Fine. Be like that. I just won’t show you the albums.”
“Hold on,” Yuji interrupted, halfway back to his seat. “Albums? I wanna see the albums!”
“You don’t even know what the albums are of,” Megumi pointed out.
“I don’t need to, I know I wanna see them.”
“I wish I could show them to you,” Gojo sighed. “Alas, Nobara has let you down.”
“Why not just show them to me and not Kugisaki?” Yuji suggested. He shuffled closer to Gojo, puppy eyes at full force.
“Fine,” Gojo relented. “Megs, go get them.”
“Why do I have to?” Megumi complained, standing up. “Do this, Megumi, do that, Megumi, I’m going to use a cute nickname so you don’t notice you’re being manipulated, Megumi…” His voice faded as he went into the hallway. Gojo rolled his eyes at the dramatics.
A few doors opened and closed, then an “aha!” followed by Megumi’s footsteps returning to the room. “Found it. Dusty, though.” A pause. “Kind of like Gojo.”
“Hey!”
Megumi handed Gojo the album, then went to push his own chair as far away from Gojo’s as possible. Yuji crowded closer to Gojo, peering at the front cover.
“Aww, is that Fushiguro?” he cooed. “Same spiky, sea-urchin hair.”
“Yeah, that’s Gumi,” Gojo smiled. “Same icy glare, too.”
Across the room, Megumi scowled.
“He was kinda cute,” Yuji observed. “Like, even the scowl just looks adorable when he’s so tiny.”
“It was the funniest thing,” Gojo agreed. “But when I first met him, it actually was a bit scary. Kids aren’t really supposed to make you feel like they can see into your soul.”
“So, how old is he in that picture?” Nobara asked, leaning over the back of Gojo’s chair. He squawked, and tilted the album away from her.
“Go away! You aren’t allowed to see these!”
“But I want to,” she pouted.
“Come here, Kugisaki, I have old ones of Gojo,” Megumi offered, waving his phone in the air. Gojo looked tempted to smack it out of his hand, but let it go for the sake of distracting Nobara.
“I had no idea Gojo had an emo phase!” she exclaimed, delighted, as Megumi handed her his phone.
“Right, well,” Gojo coughed, “Let’s get onto these.”
He opened the album delicately, not wanting to crinkle any of the pages. The first one was of Megumi, no older than maybe eight, scowling at the camera. Yuji was starting to see a pattern here.
“This was when he tried to wash himself with a bath bomb. In the shower.” Gojo chuckled at the memory. As Yuji looked closer, he could see that Megumi’s skin was tinged green.
“Woah, Fushiguro was a dumb kid,” he commented, smoothing the page so the light hit it properly. “And what kind of bath bomb is green?”
“A dinosaur one,” Gojo answered. “It was a…..brontosaurus, I think.”
“Stegosaurus,” Megumi called across the room. Gojo snickered.
“Nice to see you still remember.”
“Of course I do. How would you feel if you got dressed, left your room, and then there’s this dude stood there cackling at you? And then he takes a picture?”
“It wasn’t just a ‘dude’, though,” Gojo argued. “It was me. Your loving, caring, doting-“
“Irrelevant,” Megumi interrupted. “Move on.” He flicked across his phone screen; Nobara shrieked happily.
“Oh my god, Gojo, why did you try a buzz cut-“
“Gumi’s right, let’s move on.” Gojo hurriedly turned a page. “Awh, the first time he met Nanami.” The picture starred Megumi glaring suspiciously at a nervous Nanami. Gojo, who was presumably behind the camera, was holding a peace sign between the two. “I was trying to get them to embrace peace and love,” he explained.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Yuji observed.
“Nah, Megumi wouldn’t go near him for another six months. I think it was the tie.”
“I thought it was made of a real leopard,” was Megumi’s comment. Gojo nodded sympathetically.
“Nanami does look a bit murderous, doesn’t he? And here we have- oh, Megs, you have to see this one.”
Megumi rolled his eyes and stood up, leaving Nobara scrolling through his camera roll (an act of immense trust, built through months of nail sessions).
“Oh, it’s when I tried to do my own hair,” he noticed, staring down at the picture: younger Megumi, hair in spikes all over the place. Several flopped down over his eyes, and a few stood straight out of his head like aerials.
“You mean your spikes aren’t natural?!” Yuji gasped. Megumi nodded.
“My hair’s flat. Like, straight as a ruler. It’s horrific. I’ve been told it’s like my dad’s.”
“Truly,” Gojo affirmed. “It’s genuinely horrible, so I taught him how to fix it.”
“The same way you do yours?” Yuji asked.
“Pretty much, although Gumi’s hair is thicker than mine. My blindfold pretty much does it for me.”
“Do you have any pictures of him with his hair down?”
Gojo paused. Megumi grimaced a little in understanding and grabbed Yuji’s arm. “Gojo won’t have any, but I might. Kugisaki, scroll faster.”
“Here’s one,” she offered, holding out the phone. “He looks weird.”
“He does, woah.” Yuji zoomed in on Megumi’s hair. “Is that what your dad looks like?”
Megumi shrugged, and Gojo said nothing at all. Nobara snatched the phone back.
“I want to look at more Gojo photos,” she sniffed. “Go back to looking at baby Megumi.”
Gojo perked up at that; he flipped the page immediately. “Ooh!” He tapped the photo. “Megumi’s tenth birthday!”
Yuji looked; it was of Megumi, holding a 10th birthday balloon, grin wide, eyes little more than curved lines. “He looks happy there. Like, really happy.”
“Oh, I remember that.” Megumi knocked on his own forehead. “Yeah, it was a good day.” He smiled at Gojo.
Gojo beamed back, holding out grabby hands. Megumi’s smile immediately dropped. “No.”
“Yes.” Gojo handed Yuji the album so he could stand up. “Bring it in, Megumiiii~”
“I don’t think so,” Megumi shook his head, backing away. Unfortunately for him, Gojo’s legs were a lot longer than his.
“Gotcha!” Gojo wrapped both of his arms around Megumi, squeezing tight enough for Megumi to let out a small wheeze.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Megumi coughed, tapping Gojo’s arm frantically. “Let me out!”
“Not until you hug back.”
Megumi huffed, but put his arms around Gojo. They stayed like that for quite a while; Yuji was starting to get nervous that Megumi might have overheated and died.
“Okay!” Gojo extracted himself and patted Megumi’s head. “Let’s get back to photos.”
Yuji had no idea Megumi had had such a fun childhood. As they flipped through the album, nooks and crannies of Megumi’s personality that no-one knew existed slowly came to light. His capybara phase in fourth grade, his dinosaur models which Gojo still kept in a box under the sideboard, the red hair chalk he covered his hair in for Hallowe’en one year, the first time he painted Gojo’s nails, his 13th birthday (complete with horror makeup and Gojo dressed as a ghost). There were selfies of him and Gojo at various places – the mall, McDonald’s, a trampoline park. There were chaos shots of them copying the poses of statues in the park, imitating various birds in town centres, pretending to lean against landmark buildings in the distance. There was Megumi in a princess dress for Gojo’s 20th birthday (castle themed), Megumi flipping the camera off (you could almost hear Gojo’s gasp), Megumi holding hands with a girl who looked a little older than him (“my stepsister,” he explained with a small, sad smile).
Then, Gojo pulled out his phone to show his more recent pictures. Teenage Megumi posing next to a height measurer to prove he was too tall for kids’ games now. Megumi and Gojo hiding in a cupboard, about to pull a trip wire. Megumi mid-sentence, glaring at Gojo’s camera. Megumi in a white wig and sunglasses, on his knees in front of a KFC.
“You sure spend a lot of time together,” Yuji noticed, scrolling.
Gojo hummed. “Always new stuff to do!”
“Always new people to bother,” Megumi agreed. He looked over at Nobara. “You good over there?”
“Oh, I’m fantastic,” she grinned. “Who was gonna tell me Gojo had a flamingo phase?”