Chapter Text
Megumi and I sat, almost cuddling in his bed, blankets kicked down at our feet, combating the spring heat. And me holding him so closely is a bit reductive, but I'm not letting go of his shoulders until he forces me off. But lucky for me, he’s content to jerk and sway under my overwhelmingly physical excitement.
And I’m not surprised but impressed that he can keep his attention focused and split between my constant comments and his laptop’s flashing screen, but after every distraction, he's back to flipping through his book unbothered.
Honestly, I'm more distracted by his quick progression through that thick book; multiple times, he has reminded me, without looking up, to stop staring and watch our show. But I can’t! They’re equally entertaining, except One Piece’s animation can’t compare to this boy’s beauty.
He looked up at me again with a warning glare so dejected I turned back to the actual show. “Oh! This is an important part!” I have to rewind, “It comes up later, so you have to watch it and remember,” I command, and Megumi’s already shutting his book again with a finger bookmarking his page.
He promised that he was paying attention to the show while he was reading, but there are some scenes that he just can’t miss! So I have to intervene sometimes if he’s to enjoy a more complete experience. And he hasn’t complained yet, so I’m grateful this isn’t one-sided.
Days before, offhandedly, I’d mentioned that I wanted to pick up One Piece, where I left off before Sukuna's disruption, and can you imagine my thrill when he asked to restart it with me? Episode one to the never-ending finish line.
At our age, that’s a commitment akin to marriage, and I wish I could equate it to that out loud, but even I’m not dumb enough to out myself to my crush for a stupid joke's sake. One that I'm sure he wouldn't even appreciate, and I’d hate to be the cause of Megumi’s discomfort.
So I shake his shoulders with excitement while we finish the scene, and he lies flat and sarcastic, “That was really interesting.”
“Fushiguro,” I can’t help but whine, “It’s boring now, but I told you it’s important for later. Can’t you trust the process?” I beg, and he chuckles to himself at my needy display. “HUH! Don’t make fun of me either!” I complain with a grin.
As Megumi is reopening his book, his door is struck twice. Presumably by Kugisaki’s angry little fists, “someone’s in trouble~” I antagonize as a schoolboy might, and without time for Megumi to respond to either of us, the door breaks open.
“Yo, Megumi,” Maki welcomes herself inside, but she’s taken aback, “...and Yuji,” she greets. It’s strange to see her in Megumi’s room. “What is it?” he asks, unsure of her rare expression, which is nerve-racking, but I like it.
And I would never say this aloud since I’d seen Panda’s reprimand, but Maki should smile more often. Her expressions are usually cool and calm, but her grin now is loud and infectious, as it is when Kugisaki gets the better of her while training, a successful mission, or when she smokes the second-years in one of their competitions and challenges.
With a hand on her hip, I’m confused while she simply announces, “Your boyfriend’s back.” Close to my left, Megumi scoffs, “What the hell are you talking about?” he snaps, but through his body pulled close to mine, I can feel exactly when something clicks in his brain. Huh?
Leaning closer to her and away from me, he asks for clarification, “What do you mean he’s back? Is he here right now?” he asks, seemingly allured.
And I feel like a fish out of water eavesdropping on their conversation as if I wasn’t here first, but that might be the least of my concerns. She nods, effectively ruining Megumi’s and my kickback.
And with effort, Megumi betrays the grip around his shoulders that I must have subconsciously tightened. But he’s too distracted to notice my excluded expression.
And when he finally remembers me, waiting on his bed, he’s biting back a smile while his hands wring nervously. With a motion of his head, he invites me to follow, but clearly, he has no intention of explaining.
So Megumi matches Maki’s single-minded stride while I trail at their tails. Boyfriend. Maki had definitely said boyfriend, so why didn't he deny it? Probably because it’s true.
But of course, there’s a huge possibility that I misread their cues, as I often do in extremely new situations; Megumi’s enticed to meet someone. Someone I don’t know. Someone he shares an interest in. Someone he's never told me about.
And it's finally hitting me that his life started years before our first fateful meeting; personally, I had no place in this world until after I was cursed with a vessel's role. Since then, I’ve spent every waking moment with Megumi, between our daily and never-ending hangouts and the fact that even when we're separated, everything brings my mind affectionately racing back to him.
I stare at the black of his head, hoping he’d easily pick up on my distress and promise there’s no need to fret. But he’s stuffed me into the back of his mind, where I’ll wait until Megumi invites me out. And I’ve never seen Megumi react so warmly at the thought of someone else, so my stomach churns as I imagine sitting on the back burner forever.
Boyfriend. That word replays in my mind while I cycle through my emotions; I'm upset and jealous, not because my crush isn't single, but much more importantly, my best friend never trusted to tell me something so important.
But maybe I’m being unreasonable? I claim to know him so well, so why would I expect Megumi to share anything about his personal life? Even if it is with me.
I need to bitch about this to Kugisaki Right now. Does she know? She claimed to know everything and immediately realized my crush on him, like ‘I love Fushiguro Megumi,’ was branded on my forehead. She even called me dumb for my premature resignation, so now I privately smirk and guess I wasn’t stupid for understanding I never had a chance.
So we step outside with the inconsiderately joyful sun, but if nobody else, I know who will always have my back. The rest of our student body is composed around a strange boy in a telling scene, like a Renaissance painting.
Panda is rolling cutely in the grass by their feet, expelling his extra energy or looking for attention. All the while, Inumaki hangs loosely but affectionately off the taller boy’s shoulder in a similar gesture as Megumi and me.
Inumaki’s content and relaxed, but that black-haired boy’s raising defensive and non-threatening palms to Kugisaki in an ineffective attempt to quell her hostility. She’s still barking up at him, as she should.
“Oh! F-Fushiguro!” he calls and waves, relieved by Megumi’s disruption since Inumaki and Panda have made no move to soothe the situation. And it works too. Kugisaki turns to us, broadcasting that he ruined our Kyoto trip as if we’ll start scolding him too. But really, I don’t care.
My previous judgment and betrayal were like an itchy blanket or hateful bridge that collapsed into acceptance. It’s like when you’re so cold that your fingers start to burn, so I have an inkling that this sudden approval won’t last, but I don’t mind playing nice despite my sharp skepticism.
Megumi steps toward the greasy boy, and even from behind, I can tell he’s still fiddling with his fingers with a microscopically nervous and excited face. The other boy seems to mirror him more openly, and with bated breath, I watch them exchange their gaze. Is he not overjoyed to see Megumi? After such a long time, I would have been all over him, I criticize. But they’re content to simply soak in the other’s presence.
So It’s Maki who makes the first move for them. At the other boy’s side, she shoves him out of Inumaki’s drape, and he stumbles into Megumi’s space. Inumaki and I grimace in real-time, and Megumi peels the boy off him to chew Maki out.
But Megumi’s hand’s an anchor securing the other’s shoulder. And when he returned his attention, both boys reciprocated equally soft pleasantries, saying things like welcome back and glad to be back. And when all is said and done, I’m astounded that Megumi, who’s never initiated non-violent shows of physical affection, pulled the other against his chest. I watched with a frown when the hug was reciprocated.
And when their embrace was finally over, I gauged Kugisaki, who returned my attention with a disgusted face. I might’ve thought her homophobic if she hadn’t made it abundantly clear where her affection lies. But my face needs to look more neutral, so I school on a polite smile.
Megumi pivots with his hand glued to the other’s shoulder, and I finally see his face. He almost looks proud to present when he motions toward Kugisaki and me, “and these are the rest of the first years,” he introduces, “You’ve met Kugisaki, she has no self-control, but you’ll learn to endure it. And this is Itadori. You two have a bit in common, so I’m sure you’ll get along,” he idly explains. But I wouldn’t expect Megumi to overshare about anyone, so I bow to my senior, who I’m supposed to ‘get along with.’
“I’m Itadori Yuji! My favorite is the Star Wars movies, and I watched all twelve. It’s nice to meet you!” I introduce myself, peering up at him in anticipation of the quality of his response.
Standing before him, I do my best to imitate Maki’s posture; square shoulders, straight spine, and hard eye contact that demands, “Your first impression better count. Don’t waste my time,” but I wear a half-friendly smile. He is my upperclassman, after all.
He bows respectfully and returns my stare with a confident smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you too. Everyone’s told me how impressive you two are, so I hope we can get along. And… sorry, Kugisaki, for ruining your trip,” he adds, unsure, and turns to me next, “Megumi was right, Itadori. From what I hear, our situations are actually pretty similar, so maybe we can hang out?” he offers, I nod, “yeah, maybe.”
“If Maki’s glad you’re back, then so am I,” Kugisaki concedes unconvincingly, “but your uniform looks lame; is that white even allowed?” she comments before dismissing us, “You guys catch up. It’s too hot out here, so we’re heading inside. C’mon Itadori. Let’s go,” not needing to be told twice, I follow obediently.
And to our surprise, Megumi heeds too. Shouldn't he want to spend more time with him? “Don’t follow us, you traitor!” Kugisaki condemns him as guilty. So she does know they were dating?
“Traitor?” Megumi mocks back all blase. I’m seriously stoked to see he chose to hang out with us over catching up with him, but I also won’t stop Kugisaki from prosecuting him, so I looked back and forth between them as they continued bickering.
“You bastard! You really couldn’t tell us you knew that guy? Why? You don’t trust us?” he scoffs, “I’ve mentioned him before. It’s not my fault you have the memory of a sloth.”
“Yeah, you mentioned him, but it’s not like you said you were all buddy-buddy like that. I thought we were close enough for you to tell us these sorts of things, but now, I doubt you’d hug us too if we returned from overseas,” she irritates.
“WHAT ABOUT ME!?” I cut in. “Shut up,” she dismisses. “What about you?” Megumi asks. “I literally died and came back. AND THEN NEITHER OF YOU CARED!”
Megumi has the nerve to scoff, and Kugisaki seems to speak for him, “Yeah, and next time, you better stay dead, ‘cause if you pull that shit again, I’m actually gonna kill you,” she threatens mercilessly. “Yeah,” Megumi agrees, “plus Okkotsu didn’t pop out of a box like a dumbass.”
“It was Gojo’s idea,” I uselessly defend, “you guys are so mean,” I mope. But really, would Megumi invite either of us back with open arms? Technically he hasn’t, which truthfully shows our bond’s depth. I wonder what he has that we don’t. Maturity? Probably.
We’re finally inside the dorms, and their back and forth has died down into petty glares. Maybe it’s not maturity if Megumi’s willing to stoop to Kugisaki’s level. So we make our way toward her room, but just short of the girls’ dorm's hallway, Megumi splits off like he’s going to bed.
“Yo! Where are you going?” I ask, and he barely bothers looking over his shoulder, “I wanna finish my book,” he says, “Plus, Kugisaki doesn't want me around.”
“WHAT? She’s not actually mad at you! Right, Kugisaki?” “No. I am.” “That's not helpful,” I snap, but she’s already turning down her hall with a huff while Megumi slinks to his room.
God dammit. I’m forced to choose between them like I’m a child of divorce. Not that my parents ever divorced. Not that my parents lived long enough for that possibility.
Well, I’ve spent the whole day so far with Megumi, and unlike Kugisaki, I know he’ll forgive me, so my decision is made.
“Wait up, Kugisaki! Do you still wanna hang out?” I shout, following her to her room. “Are you really mad at him?” I beg.
Kugisaki shrugs disinterested shoulders, “No, not really,” she shuts her door behind me, “but with this hot new intel, we better get a game plan. We’re starting ‘Operation Reclaim.”
Reclaim? I don’t need to ask what she means. I just make my dumbest face, and she sighs, “That Okkotsu guy, the one that Megumi said, 'Isn’t as insufferable as the other second years.' But we can’t take his word for it since he’s biased in the worst ways; Maki’s perfect just the way she is, and she only harasses him ‘cause he’s a dweeb. I’ve never had a problem with her, plus he’s ignoring how Okkostu seriously screwed us over last year. He’s got no respect for his juniors.”
“You’re seriously still upset about the Goodwill Event? Y’know we won this year, too, right?” “ugh, don’t remind me. And you’re missing my point!” “Which is?” “Which is, what does he have that we don’t? What I mean is he may have known him first, but we know him better. And probably longer, too.”
I take a moment to process her complaints. Maybe I’m not being unreasonable because Kugisaki’s worried about the same things troubling me.
I sigh and laugh, relieved, “I knew I could always count on you.” “Damn right, Itadori. I’m the best friend anyone would ever want,” she brags, and I agree.
“But really,” I hate to break it to her, but “he knew Fushiguro first, so if anyone, we’re ‘the other woman.’ But I doubt Fushiguro would just stop hanging out with us 'cause he's back; I think he’d rather have no friends than empty placeholders,” I hope.
Kugisaki’s eyes roll like I've got it all wrong, and she huffs, “him not hanging out with us isn’t the problem; it would be pretty awkward if he suddenly tried avoiding us. Besides, when it comes down to it, that loser’s nothing compared to us, and I’ll be happy when Fushiguro admits it.”
“Wow, you really are unreasonable. So if you’re not worried about being ditched, then what the hell is your problem?” I ask though I doubt the answer’s justifiable.
“I have all the reason to be upset,” she starts, “not only did our best friend not tell us he had someone besides us, but he’s never acted so chummy with us; hugging that nobody was a humiliation to our friendship, and he did it in front of everyone.” Okay, so she’s just jealous he has more friends than us. And I’m probably just as bad. Great.
I sigh, “If anyone has a reason to be upset, it’s me. The only reason he was so bold was because they weren’t friends; they were dating. Boyfriends, Maki told me so. But even I’m not so stressed about all this.”
I thought girls told each other everything, but Kugisaki’s reaction tells me she hadn't heard any of this from Maki before.
She stopped her working hands to look up at me. Her nail polish fumes hang just as heavily as her glaring expression. She’s seriously chaffed when she asks, “What do you mean ‘Maki told you’?”
I try remembering the scene and see it as a messy fog, “well, I’m pretty sure she called him his boyfriend? OW! What the hell?”
“IF THERE’S GOSSIP, TELL ME SOONER! God, I really can’t trust anyone,” she mumbles. I soothe my pinched hand, “But that just happened, and I wanted to tell you immediately! That’s why we're talking now!”
“Fine,” she accepts but doesn’t apologize, “and since I’m such a good friend, I’ll tell you that Maki was definitely just teasing him,” she assures.
“How do you know? You weren’t even there?” she’s back to practicing nail art on me with an all-knowing smile, “Trust me, that guy’s not Fushiguro’s type.”
And she actually gave me no reason to trust her, but I’ll take her word for it anyway. And just like that, a heavy weight has been lifted off my simple mind. “But why would Fushiguro hug him if they’re not dating? Wouldn’t that just mean they do like each other? At the very least.”
Kugisaki smiles like I’m finally asking the right question, “Of course! But you’re only half right” What? I expected her to say, ‘No way Fushiguro likes someone,’ and that I must melt his frozen, dead heart.
She continues speaking, sounding like she’s relaying a scheme, “It was Fushiguro who initiated first contact, so we can infer that this romance is one-sided and Okkotsu had no choice but to reciprocate. So where do you come into play? Now we know your top and only competitor doesn’t want Fushiguro, so proving your worth has never been easier! Just show your stronger, smarter, or whatever, and the boy’s all yours!”
“WHAT? That’s a terrible plan. What makes you think Okkotsu doesn’t want Fushiguro. He’s literally the prettiest, meanest, and kindest person here!” Kugisaki shrugs, “I don’t see the hype.”
God, she really is no help. “OUCH! What?” “don’t doubt me,” she warns, “I’m an expert in people, so I know this is your best chance,” she convinces.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I concede, “but if Fushiguro doesn’t like me, I’d rather stay his friend than try convincing him otherwise.” she sighs, annoyed, “It’s not about convincing. It’s about shooting your shot and not being a little bitch. Now get out of my room.”
“Huh? Why? What about your nails?” I offer, but she snaps to her door and points. “Nah, I’m saving myself for Maki. You worry about impressing Fushiguro,” she orders like it’s an easy feat, but Megumi’s perfect, and I have no idea what’s so great about Okkotsu. How am I supposed to compete like this?