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"…the team leader stated that the new addition could save this season's tournament. But who's this new boy that's on everyone's mind? His name is Yuuji Itadori, and he has not only captivated the audience after scoring seven points in a row in the last game, but he has also driven even the opposing fans crazy..."
Megumi pursed his lips as Nobara read the magazine. He stirred the food lazily, his appetite had gone away all at once. He didn't even want to be there anymore.
“You're not paying attention,” Nobara pointed out, looking at him from across the table. It had only been five minutes since she had arrived and she had sat across from him with the latest issue of the high school magazine.
Megumi frowned. He dropped the chopsticks to the side of the tray and sighed. He had been putting up with this for the entire month, nothing else was talked about in the hallways. He didn't need to hear it again. Still, he forced himself to smile—the fakest smile he'd put on all morning, and it wouldn't be the last.
"Of course I'm paying attention."
"Come on, it's about Yuuji," she continued accusing him. Her voice sounded stern, but she was genuinely worried. "He's your best friend! Aren't you happy for him?"
"I already said I'm paying…"
Suddenly, a childish scream crossed the school cafeteria from end to end. They both looked at the entrance, where several girls from other years and even their own class were gathered. Megumi knew who was there without needing to see him.
He and Yuuji Itadori had been friends since elementary school. In fact, he had been his first friend in that neighborhood to which he had moved when he was only eight years old. He had never been an excessively sociable person, he hated crowds, but Yuuji had been able to see behind all that facade of seriousness and had managed to bring him closer until they had a small consolidated group of friends that had survived until the last year of high school. The following year they would separate, each one would take their own path in life and all the afternoons of study would end to give way to their adult lives, lives as workers or as university students, perhaps both.
Yuuji had been the one who had dragged him to the basketball team when they were ten years old. Someone had come to the school to promote the team and he hadn't stopped insisting day after day until Megumi gave in. His father was so happy that his son was doing something other than reading within the four walls of the room that it didn't take him a single week to fill his closet with training clothes.
They had managed to get into the team that represented the high-school, the two of them didn't know the bench. On the court they were the best duo of players that had existed in almost a decade.
"Look how many fans he has," Nobara whistled, amused. "And to think he's the only member of the occult club."
The truth was that Yuuji didn't need Megumi to shine. He was capable of doing it himself, and it was proven every time he came up with one of those ingenious strategies that ended up with him being the brightest star on the team. It was rumored that university teams were already preparing offers in order to have him among their ranks.
Megumi didn't mind that. In fact, he was happy for Yuuji. For his part, he had always taken basketball as a hobby, a time to disconnect from student obligations and enjoy the adrenaline of victories. It wasn't Yuuji's success that caused his heart to race and heat to rush into his face like that when he saw that whole ridiculous scene of teenagers surrounding his friend.
They swarmed in incredibly large numbers, so much so that he began to feel anxious. He could see Yuuji scratching the back of his neck modestly, asking to please be let in so he could have lunch in peace. The word peace had disappeared as soon as the magazine had started talking about his abs, by the way.
People sighed, died for him, as if he were some model or actor in a movie that won the best awards.
"Itadori, a photo please!"
"Good luck in the next game, you can do everything!"
The group of girls sitting at the next table whispered and pointed at the boy between laughs and overly saccharine looks.
"He's so handsome… doesn't he look like out of Pinterest?"
"I heard he's the best in his class. He's very popular."
"Do you think he has a girlfriend?"
Megumi looked down, irritated. There was something disgusting about all that stupid theater. He couldn't stand it. What did they know besides nothing? What did they know about Yuuji? He didn't look out from Pinterest, he was a boy who got his clothes from the flea market and the sales area of all the stores. He didn't shop in expensive places, he didn't like to look like a superstar, even though people said he would be one someday. He dressed like any normal seventeen year old boy and he didn't need anyone to stare at him assuming the most erroneous things that could be assumed.
It was something that was killing him inside. They didn't know him as well as he did! Of course Yuuji wasn't the best in his class. His grades were pretty average and he excelled in only a couple of subjects, like most. He was shamelessly good at math and physics, even though he could spend class staring at the ceiling or doodling in the margins of his notebook.
He wasn't popular either, or at least he hadn't been until that same month. Megumi had grown up with him, he had seen others laughing at him because of his dyslexia in elementary school, and then because of his weird hobbies during high school. Yuuji didn't have weird tastes, just unusual tastes. Why did the same people who seemed to laugh at him now idolize him? He glanced at the next table out of the corner of his eye, resentful of events that had never happened, but that he was one hundred percent sure could have happened. Surely they would have picked on him when he had proposed, in front of the entire class, that they keep the occult club room because he had no other place to do his flashy rituals and read about esotericism. He remembered how they had looked at him, the way the teacher had told him that he would talk to the rest of the teachers and ask them to keep that tiny room dedicated to a single-member club.
And if it became known, would people unite? Would they take a sudden interest in the occult club? Megumi firmly believed it, people were like a hypocritical flock.
"You're pouting," Nobara's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "What's going on? Are you two angry or something?"
Megumi clicked his tongue. Yuuji didn't have a girlfriend, of course not. Everyone saw him as a geek who read manga in his spare time. He hated that no one was interested in him, that they made things up about him. They didn't know him.
No one paid attention to the way he would scratch behind his ears when he lied, no one knew that he hated sushi and loved Italian food; They had no idea about the different shades of his laughter, or how messy his room was. He never slept with blankets, not even in winter. Megumi knew this well, just like he knew that Yuuji always lost his pens and that his handwriting was big and messy. He bet no one imagined Yuuji didn't have anyone who came to see him at games. And he was sure people didn't care about that. He was an orphan and his grandfather, who had raised him, was sick in the hospital. Only Toji Fushiguro was going to see them both play, because Yuuji's older brother was busy working ten hours a day from Monday to Saturday on the other side of the city.
Finally, the chaos ended when a teacher ordered the students to stop following Yuuji. Yuuji apologized—he apologized!—and walked over to their table with the tray full of the slimy, dubiously healthy food they served to the students.
The girls at the next table stayed very quiet and greeted the boy with giggles, then they got up and disappeared through the dining room door, nudging each other as if they had had a meaningful interaction. Megumi watched them in silence, while Yuuji sat next to him, like usual.
"It seems like you've become famous," Nobara smiled, kicking Megumi under the table. "What do you think about that?"
Before Yuuji could answer, Megumi sat up abruptly. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, picked up his tray, and left without saying a word.
━━━━━━
Megumi came out of the shower. He put on some music at low volume and dried his hair in front of the mirror. He left the door open so the glass wouldn't fog up and steam would escape from the bathroom.
Shiro walked in and pressed his nose against his thigh, just below the towel wrapped around his waist, seeking attention. Megumi dried his hands and stroked him affectionately, humming.
Like every Friday, his father worked late, so he would be home alone until around eleven at night. When Megumi finished dressing he took care of tidying up his room. He had been doing homework and studying all afternoon, so his table was messy and there were papers and books everywhere. He put them in the drawer and put his backpack in the closet so it wouldn't be in the way when he vacuumed tomorrow.
He lay on the couch for a while with the intention of scrolling through the television channels and seeing if he could find any interesting documentaries to watch when he made dinner. That night he wasn't very motivated to cook, so he probably turned on the oven to make pizza.
Shiro and Kuro had curled up in their beds, next to the couch. Suddenly, when Megumi was zapping, two pairs of ears perked up and the dogs got up and hurried to the door.
He knew that someone would ring the doorbell, he also knew that it was impossible for it to be his father or a delivery. There was only one person his pets would excited like this, and sure enough, a couple of seconds later, the doorbell rang. Megumi put a cushion over his head, cringing and muttering a curse.
The doorbell rang again. He couldn't ignore him forever, right? He finally sat up. He put on his sneakers slowly, his heart pounding in his ears. Something in his chest became bigger and heavier with every step he took towards the hall, something that made it impossible for him to breathe.
On the other side of the door was Yuuji.
"I knew you were home," said his childhood friend. He seemed distressed, although he tried to put on a good face.
Megumi touched his own hair, not knowing where to put his hands. He swallowed, watching Yuuji, who bent down to pet the dogs that had watched them grow up. He did his best to keep his voice from shaking.
"It's late, what do you want?"
"Can I enter?" Yuuji asked, smiling. He had a truly beautiful smile, his eyes took on a shine that Megumi knew all too well and for which he felt a shameful weakness.
Whatever was about to happen, it didn't have to be under the icy spring breeze. Megumi let him in, trying to calm down, telling himself that it was nothing important. Je was her friend, why did he have the feeling that something bad was coming?
Yuuji had visited him hundreds of times and vice versa, they had slept over at each other's houses during the holidays, they used to go out every weekend. There was nothing wrong with letting him in on a Friday night.
They went to his room, as usual. Megumi sat in the swivel chair at his desk and Yuuji plopped down on the edge of the bed, in front of him.
"You haven't gone to training today."
“I was tired,” Megumi answered quickly. "I had things to do."
He took a deep breath. Being in front of Yuuji was hard in many ways. He physically began to sweat, he lost his breath, his heart rate went out of control. It was fucking embarrassing how little control he had over his body, over his own thoughts. His pupils ran all over Yuuji's face, his features. It had been long since he stopped having childish cheeks and his features were becoming those of a man. He smelled like fruit shampoo and was wearing baggy jeans he had to fold over his sneakers so as not to step on them and ruin them. His hair had taken on a curious hue after having dyed it pink last summer, mixing light brown and pink in a unique way. On the back of his neck he could see his natural color, a darker one. He rubbed his thumbs, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly. Megumi felt like he was being eviscerated under that gaze of faint hazel and autumn that turned sweet at times, and worried at others.
"This is the second time you've been absent this week," Yuuji reminded him.
"The exams are coming up," he muttered.
"You don't answer my messages either."
"I'm busy with class things." Megumi was about to turn his chair and look out the window. He felt a gigantic lump in his throat. "We have to do a biology project, right?"
"Great, let's do that right now."
He fell silent. Yuuji's voice had sounded so desperate. They stood looking at each other for a moment, while the dogs came and went from the room, happy.
"What?" A confused thread of voice came from Megumi.
"I said let's do that project. Now."
Yuuji rubbed his face. Suddenly, he seemed extremely tired. He was supposed to have practiced that afternoon, from five-thirty to seven-thirty, and Megumi could sense they hadn't let him leave soon. He was quite sure that his newfound fame was haunting and exhausting him.
The reason he was there, in his house, was obvious. Megumi had been ignoring him for a week. Terrified by how his head responded to the events of their lives, he had stopped watching the videos Yuuji shared with him, he had stopped responding to his good morning messages, to his two-minute audios in which he asked him questions about class; No more long nightly talks, no more having lunch together, no more whispering in class.
He couldn't stand Yuuji having so much attention, when he had been the only person, besides his closest friends, who had been by his side forever. His thoughts flew in wrong and unpleasant directions every time he was in front of him. He couldn't help but analyze the shape and curvature of his lips, the collar of his sweatshirt, his athletic body when he put on the team uniform, the sweat running down the back of his neck and soaking into his hair. Those bad jokes he always told at the worst moments made him blush.
Megumi had tried hard to keep those feelings a secret, he had fought to keep them from interfering with his friendship. He had always been good at hiding his feelings from him, since he wasn't the type of person to tell everything, but he had reached a limit where he had made it obvious. Running away from Yuuji, unable to bear the jealousy that the situation provoked in him, had made his attitude noticeable.
He had mistakenly thought Yuuji would get carried away with fame and not realize it, but Yuuji wasn't the type to let his ego get to his head. He had his feet on the ground.
"I get the feeling you're avoiding me," Yuuji confessed. "And it hurts me."
It hurts. A pang of pain shook Megumi's heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't really have any excuse that sounded believable. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, scared and ashamed. If only he had been a little less weak all that shouldn't be happening.
They should be lying in bed chatting, looking at the fluorescent stars on the ceiling, talking about the future, about their dreams, sharing ideas and plans they would never do because they didn't have enough money. Future plans. They had one year left to leave high school, everything would change. They would choose a real future, it would no longer be night conversations, but a reality.
Megumi wanted to study to be a vet. Yuuji wanted to be a firefighter, but he considered the option of continuing with basketball until he got to work. Eventually he would quit and all the people who talked about him would stop, because being a firefighter wasn't as hot as being a player who would serve as a model for clothing and cosmetics brands. Yuuji didn't feel like posing in his underwear for anyone, or giving press conferences about the games. He was good at basketball, yes, but he had his own dreams and, despite appearing outgoing, the truth was he wasn't open to talking about that kind of thing with everyone.
Yuuji was very afraid of being judged, of being ordered to remain silent as had happened countless times before. He had grown up hearing that he was weird and eccentric and he had ended up being quite secretive about some parts of his life that only Megumi knew about.
They were tangled in a perfect chaos, their gazes harmonized with a hidden fear and the deep desire to remain together in the future. Being separated terrified them.
They were supposed to be enjoying the time they had left to be together. Megumi shook his head, crossing his arms as if he could console himself and get out of this nightmare.
"You don't get it."
"Yes I do," Yuuji interrupted.
Megumi shook his head again.
"No, you don't…"
"I like you too, Megumi."
Yuuji's voice was like a caress. There was something soft and surprising in the way Megumi's heart raced down the stairs through his chest and he stopped thinking. His cheeks turned pink and, when he dared to cautiously look up, he noticed Yuuji had also blushed. They looked at each other in silence, captivated by the weight of the atmosphere, the sweetness of knowing it was mutual and true, and that nothing had fallen apart.
Megumi wanted to cry. He wanted to kick him, tell him it bothered him that he belonged to the public eye when he had been wanting to be his for months. But that would have been childish. But Yuuji sensed that because Megumi was like an open book to him. Because they knew each other. They knew who they were.
"Won't you say anything?" Yuuji asked.
"I don't know what to say," Megumi said nervously. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Something" the boy shrugged his shoulders "Anything is fine."
Did Yuuji want him to be honest? Did he want Megumi to tell him he wanted to be with him without having to endure someone else thinking about his abs or whether he looked like something out of Pinterest? He wanted to get back to normal. He wanted him to become invisible again so he could start the story from the beginning and get the courage he needed to confess without ruining his friendship, or maybe never do it and let him go.
He was still trapped. He couldn't breathe. Yuuji wanted explanations, not stutters. He wanted to not leave this room with a broken heart, he was trusting them both to do well.
"I didn't want it to happen like this," he ended up saying hesitantly. "I didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry."
The damage was already done. He was being pathetic.
"Alright."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
Kuro entered the room wagging his tail and lay on his back between them.
"I'll leave the team after the tournament," Yuuji announced, leaning down to stroke the long raven fur. "I can't stand being popular, I don't like having everyone behind me, it's... suffocating." He paused, thoughtful. "I don't like not having your attention, you know? I was starting to get jealous because you were always with Nobara and left every time I showed up. I thought I was going crazy."
Megumi blinked a few times in disbelief.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes," Yuuji smiled, looking up at him. "It's embarrassing, I know, sorry."
Megumi laughed nervously. Suddenly, they were both laughing, feeling like complete idiots.
It was already late and soon it would start to rain. Megumi accompanied Yuuji to the door, as he usually did, enjoying the narrow walk from the room to the hall. The television was still on and was showing a program about old cars, the dogs were sad when they realized Yuuji was saying goodbye.
Their bodies linked in an embrace. When they let go, they stared at each other. Their pupils shifted nervously from one corner to another. Megumi stared at his lips, inevitably drawn to them. He had often looked at them surreptitiously in the past, counting the cracks that formed in winter and admiring how delicate they seemed in summer.
As if tied by a rope, he was drawn and dragged to them. Yuuji caressed Megumi's face, making their mouths collide, first shyly, then with precision, almost eagerness. They broke apart after a second that felt like an eternity, so upset they didn't know what else to say.
"We should go on a date when… you know. When I manage to get out of the public eye."
"Yes," Megumi agreed, happily. He had butterflies in his stomach, he felt light.
No one knew how amazing Yuuji Itadori was, they just saw the handsome basketball player. Megumi felt really lucky to know him better than the others.