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No matter what anyone says, Megumi never starts fights. He only finishes them off. And it’s not his fault that those bullies thought they could antagonize him and get away with it.
So it was no surprise when he was suspended for beating up those weaklings.
He scowled as he looked at the riverbank. He doesn’t really care.
He almost yelped when something cold hit his cheek, and he glared at the too-tall menace of a guardian who crouched beside him.
Gojo smiled, tapping the popsicle on his cheek. Here. You need to cool down.
He takes the popsicle before staring at the river again.
His guardian lets the silence carry on before sighing. Megumi wanted to rejoice because his guardian looks like he’s about to leave, but inside, he’s a little disappointed. What if those bullies were right? What if he can’t make people stay because he’s worthless and nobody loves him?
But he was proven wrong when Gojo stayed and took his popsicle to open it for him before handing it back. You should eat it before it melts.
He does, and he appreciated the gesture more when he saw that it was his favorite flavor of popsicle.
Megumi, come on. Talk to me. What is it? What’s on your mind? What happened? Gojo says it in a sing-song tone.
He knows that this strange, tall man already knows what happened. He was there earlier when the principal suspended him and the parents of those bullies wanted to sue him.
Nothing; you already know what happened.
I know their version, but I want to know the truth.
He says nothing. One, he doesn’t want Tsumiki to know what those bullies were saying about her too. Two, he knows deep inside that what those bullies said was right. He has no mother, and his father has long abandoned him. Nobody wanted to keep him, and he knows his guardian is only temporary. Maybe he won’t even be here tomorrow. Megumi doesn’t want to show his vulnerability in front of a man he can’t trust.
Gojo licks his popsicle in contemplation while watching him. For a child, Megumi seems to have the whole world on his shoulders. And somehow, it reminds him of himself.
You're still a kid. You don't have to worry about useless things.
Useless? Megumi looks at him sharply. Gojo looks solemn and understanding. "That's the beauty of being a kid. Let the adults worry and figure it out. The only thing you need to do is be a kid, and whatever you're worrying about is not gonna happen. You’re stuck with me."
He’s stuck with him? Let the adults handle them? Can he really do that? His own father sold him off to the highest bidder, and without Gojo, he would've probably be in a worst situation.
He can't trust adults, but...
(He looks at his guardian, who is close to him. Someone who should be more of an older brother because of their age difference, yet the one person—the only person—who held out his hand to save the kids he had no business rescuing or raising. )
He finds that he can trust one adult. This adult next to him who is no blood but the one who saved and rescued him, the one who is raising them against all odds, the one who is more like a father and friend to him like no other, and somehow, Megumi knows that unlike all adults in his life, Gojo is not lying or just saying things to make him feel better. He means them, and because of that, he won't leave.
Megumi nodded in understanding. Gojo smiled, ruffling his hair, and he groaned.
"We should finish eating this and head back before Tsumiki starts freaking out about us again."