Chapter Text
The smell of buttered pancakes is what woke Megumi up. His eyebrows furrowed as he shifted in his bed, the smooth covers gliding smoothly against his skin. Slowly his eyes opened blurring to see his bedroom. Plain and simple with a bookcase and a small TV, this is what Megumi Fushiguro woke up to every morning.
His mouth felt a bit dryer than usual, and hi licked his cracked lips, attempting to wetter them. Then, the muffled sound of rock music played outside his room.
Ah, he thought. Geto must be cooking then. Well- Gojo liked rock too, but Geto was more of a heavy rock kind of guy. He grunted as he lifted himself off the bed, shrugging out of his blanket before walking over to his dresser and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a lose shirt.
He yawned while he opened his door and walked out into the hallway, and then into the kitchen. Tsumiki, his sister, and his two dads; Gojo and Geto were also present. It took a lot of energy for Megumi not to fall back asleep on the deep brown dining table. He guesses that the smell was keeping him awake.
Megumi’s scarred left arm propped up his head, the palm of his hand grating against the softness of his cheek a bit.
Tsumiki smiled at him kindly. “Morning Megumi!”
“Morning,” he muttered back to her, resisting the urge to yawn once again. From his seat, he could peer over the counter that surrounded the kitchen, and see his fathers in front of the stove. Geto was the one cocking, and Gojo stood behind him, resting his head on his shoulder while humming a tune. It felt like one of those domestic western movies that Tsumiki and her friends loved to watch every Friday.
His sister grinned. “I’m glad dad is cooking. He makes the best pancakes! Oh- and recently, me and father bought whipped cream!” She gestured to the red can of whipped cream that was sitting in the center of the table. Hm. He just now noticed that.
“I’m glad father isn’t cooking either. His pancakes always have some weird shit in them…” he mumbled before drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the table.
They used to call both Geto and Gojo dad, because it made the most sense at the time- however, they quickly figured out that that was way too confusing.
“Hey, dad?” Tsumiki had called out one day when she was around 9. Both Geto and Gojo turned around, practically in sync.
“Huh?” They both replied.
Tsumiki’s eye twitched a bit in annoyance. “Not you, the other dad!”
“Hey, I heard that Megumi!” At this, Megumi’s gaze fell back upon his parents. Geto was continuing to cook, and Gojo faced him now, pouting like a child. “My pancakes are amazing, Suguru is just the better chef!”
From behind Gojo, you could faintly here Geto say, “Yes sir-”
“Jeez… you two need to get a room already.” Megumi scowled and rolled his eyes childishly, all fatigue that used to be there was now gone, and annoyance quickly took its place while he leaned back in his cushioned chair.
Tsumiki laughed heartily at this, and Gojo put his hands on his hips like a disapproving mother. “Hey! Me and Suguru already have a room! We could go to it if you’d like, and instead of eating breakfast in peace you’ll eat it hearing-”
“Okay, okay! We get the point,” Tsumiki nodded eagerly while Megumi put on a disgusted face.
In around ten minutes, breakfast was served, and everyone (Including Geto, surprisingly) wolfed down their food. Just as Megumi stuffed his last, delicious bite in his mouth, Gojo gently laid a folder out in front of him and Tsumiki. Well, it was mostly towards Tsumiki, but he can still dream, okay?
He raised his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s this?”
“Mm. Me and Suguru have been thinking about this for awhile, and we want you two, mostly Tsumiki, to handle this.”
“And… why us? Couldn’t Miguel do it? He’s far stronger than either of us.” At the sound of her name, Tsumiki tilted her head and opened up the folder. Her eyes held confusion. Megumi wasn’t sure what was in there, but now he was without a doubt intrigued.
Geto shrugged. “Don’t worry, it’s not as dangerous as it looks, we would never put you in any harm that we could prevent. We want you to simply befriend Yuji Itadori: the boy in the photo.”
“Oh. So that’s what we have to do. Phew! I got a little worried there!”
Their dad raised an eyebrow. “What did you think you would have to do?” He asked slowly.
Tsumiki chuckled a bit nervously and scratched at the back of her neck. “Well, you handed it to us all inconspicuous. It kind of looks like something out of a spy movie.” The black haired boy frowned and decided to get back into the conversation.
“Why do you want just some kid?” Megumi asked.
“This,” Gojo pointed to the photographs of a nicely built teenager with short, dyed pink hair in blue and yellow hoodies, often seen carrying homework or gifts. “Is a kid with a normal amount of cursed energy for the average person, but, according to some reports made by the school’s gym coach- yes, yes we did steal documents from a regular high school- don’t judge us, Itadori posses a huge amount of physical strength.” Then, the white haired man looked over to his lover, who nodded.
“Yes. He was even seen breaking Olympic champion’s records, with most likely little to none training at all.” Geto paused, before chuckling lightly. “Don’t worry, we don’t want him to join our cause, we just want to study him. He is a great example of what can be achieved without cursed energy.”
Gojo handed him one of the photographs, and Megumi took it with his right hand gently. The boy seemed happy and content in all the photos. This was the same kind of kid that gets recruited into Jujutsu Sorcery and ends up miserable or dead in the end. He knew his fathers were against that, that was their whole thing. But, even interacting with such a soul, Itadori would get swept under the rug that is cursed energy some way or another. Even if it was just for “studying.”
“No.” Is what he said, simply, before sliding the photograph back to Gojo, who caught it just as it was about to fall off the table.
“No? What do you mean?”
Megumi shook his head. “We can’t let that guy get into this kind of stuff. At all. Look at him, look at how happy with his life he looks.”
“Megumi…” Tsumiki began quietly before Geto held out a hand.
“It’s fine, Tsumiki. Megumi doesn’t have to do this if he doesn’t want to.” He takes the photo from his lover gently, and clipped it back into the folder. “Although, If you’re willing to do this for us, Tsumiki, we’re completely content with that.”
Tsumiki chewed her lower lip as Megumi sent a small glare to his fathers. “Would it help you guys? Would studying him help you?”
“Of course.”
“Alright.” She nodded firmly. “As long as you don’t hurt him, I’ll help. I’m always glad to help,” Tsumiki smiled lightly, her eyes crinkling as she did so, indicating that the smile was genuine. If Megumi was being honest, he hated how genuine she was all the time. Tsumiki, always the optimist.
Megumi huffed. “Seriously? I thought you had the more sturdy ideals here.”
His sister gave him a sort of stern look. “Megumi, it’s for a really, really good cause. You know that. I’m not going to put a guy’s life in front of millions of other lives. Plus- it’s not harming him, I’ll just get to know him, and then I’ll take some notes. That’s all.”
“I don’t need your reassurance, Tsumiki. I’m not a child. I know better than anyone that curse energy is dangerous. It ripped my fucking arm off, and I still have no idea who did it! Don’t ruin this guy’s life by bringing him into this too.”
The black haired teen failed to notice the way Geto gave Gojo a quick glance, before continuing to watch their argument. The silence was without a doubt present, and without a doubt awkward
Gojo spoke up first. “If you’re so worried about this kid, why don’t you take the mission and make sure to steer him in the opposite direction of us?”
That was weird. Megumi raised an eyebrow. “What? Wouldn’t that go directly against your goal?”
“Well, you don’t have any friends, so no matter what you do it would be a win-win for us. I mean, we could just pick another person with immense strength like him, but the opportunity for you to have a friend of the same age is so little, y’know? You don’t like kids at your school, and they’re pretty much afraid of you-” Megumi cut his father of by huffing and laying his hands down on the table perhaps a bit too hard.
“Okay!” He sighed out. “I get it! If it gets you off my ass, I’ll do it.”
Despite his attitude, his fathers look pleased. Tsumiki on the other hand looked concerned. Though, Megumi payed no mind to this fact and he quickly took the folder off the table. He muttered out, “thanks for the meal,” and walked quickly to his bedroom. The teen ignored the mumbling that had started quickly after his departure from his seat, and opened up the folder and spread it out on his desk.
Itadori Yuji was spelled out in a gentle kanji. The boy looked exactly what you think he would look like if you heard that name.
He picked up one of the photographs. He wonders who took all of these, how long they followed him, or if they paid someone to stalk them for them. Megumi gritted his teeth unconsciously. If they want to study him so bad, why can’t they’ve just done so while they were tailing him? Something’s wrong. Or, maybe he was just being superstitious again.
Either way, he’ll try his best to do right by this guy.
“Itadori…”
“Oh, if it isn’t the Fushiguro siblings. What’s going on?” Miguel asked, leaning against the wall of the hallway casually.
“Nothing much,” Megumi’s gruff voice let out while he shoved his hands into his pockets and let Tsumiki do most of the talking, as usual. They were inside the temple his dads used as a some sort of “meeting place” for their curse user group. Now, if Megumi’s being honest here, he completely forgot the name of said group, despite him being apart of it himself.
Tsumiki waved and smiled at the man. “Hi, Miguel! We’re doing great. How about you?”
“I’m doing good, just got back from an exorcism. Woo, those curses surely were something else…”
“Hm? Really? What grade was it? I can’t imagine anything being hard for you, Miguel.”
At this point, Megumi had tuned them out, focusing his eyesight on the large line of people outside of Geto’s room that he uses to gather curses and “cure” people. Him and Tsumiki had just gotten back from school, and Tsumiki desired to get some extra training from Gojo. As much as Megumi wanted to be stronger, he much rather preferred Geto trading him, due to the similarities in their techniques.
Also, Gojo didn’t know how to properly explain things. Which had been something that was long established.
He stopped zoning out at the mention of his name
“-Megumi? Megumi? You alright?” His concerned sister waved her hand in front of his face. He brushed her off, a bit embarrassed that this was happening in public.
“I’m fine,” he said, waving her off in a way that could be perceived as rude if Tsumiki was not his family. “What did you need?”
“Your sister told me you have some sort of mission coming up? What’s that about?” Miguel asked.
Megumi huffed, and in his pocket the fingers of his left hand fiddled with each other a bit. “It’s just some guy our dads want to study for the cause. That’s all.”
Tsumiki pouted for whatever reason and crossed her arms over her chest. “You were eyeing that picture pretty hard ‘gumi. If he wasn’t a guy, I would be doubting that you want to do this to ‘keep him away’ from us.”
“Hey!” His face flushed. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She sighed.