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Megumi was not usually one to show his emotions. He was analytical and tended to look for the most straightforward route to end his missions. From a young age he learned how to be independent, only relying on Tsumiki for things that he otherwise couldn’t do himself. That was it. He couldn’t trust adults. After all, the only one he knew had abandoned him. Megumi couldn’t even remember his father’s name let alone what he looked like.
So when the boisterous, prideful, complicated man that was Gojo Satoru walked into his life, Megumi was skeptical. How could a teenager take care of a child? Did the strongest sorcerer of the era, as he quickly learned, even have time to raise a kid? Megumi just didn’t trust that he would be there like a father should be, and he treated him as such. He’ll train and learn about the jujutsu sorcerer world with Gojo as a teacher, but any move of parental care from the blindfolded man was ignored.
Gojo would try to win him over with sweets from the last souvenir shop he went to or the new action figure from that show Megumi used to watch, but the shikigami user would just accept it politely, taking the gift to his room and shutting the door behind him. Hugs were squirmed out of and head-pats would result in a slightly painful meeting with Divine Dog as he worked to control his technique.
The thing was, it wasn’t that Megumi didn’t want Gojo to care for him. Deep down, while he would never express it, Megumi loved the attention. He was secretly excited to see what Gojo brought home from each of his missions that took him all over Japan and he craved the physical affection Gojo was more than willing to give. It was just that, what if Gojo never came home?
It was difficult for Megumi to get close to someone that was gone at the drop of the hat, returning weeks later only to disappear the next day. Yet, every time that Gojo was around, he made time to spend it with Megumi, no matter how begrudging the grade schooler appeared to be. And for that, he was grateful. He also noticed that whenever Tsumiki was out, Gojo was extra careful to watch his boundaries, standing a tiny bit farther on their walks and keeping his hands to himself a little more often. The first time Megumi moved closer to the tall man on his own accord, not enough to press against him, but enough so their arms brushed each other’s, Megumi swore Gojo almost cried.
Then, there was that time when Megumi finally picked a fight that was too big to finish. He was in middle school. Tsumiki was already cursed. In those years, he was a bitter kid, hating the world around him and taking it out on the bullies that had no right to the pride they showed off. Tsumiki would have called him out for it. Gojo didn’t.
“Tryna make the world a better place?” Gojo tried to reason once the doors of the school shut behind them.
Meugmi gave him the finger aimlessly over his shoulder, already heading to Gojo’s car (because the man could in fact drive).
“You’re a middle schooler, Megumi.” It only took the teacher a few paces to catch up.
“So what? I bet you were doing world-saving things when you were in middle school.”
“One, I never went to middle school. And two, I’m a special case.”
“Yeah you are,” Megumi whispered underneath his breath.
“Oi!”
Megumi rolled his eyes.
“Hey, don’t walk away from me- Megumi! Hey, don’t make me nickname you in public!”
With a scowl, he stopped, turning around to see Gojo’s shit-eating grin. “Little late to be parenting me now, don’t you think?”
“I’ve parented you for the past eight years. It’s too late for you to be questioning my methods now, don’t you think?” Gojo was twirling his sunglasses around, bright, blue eyes staring at Megumi, challenging him to continue the banter. His smirk said he could go on for hours. He had before, much to Tsumiki’s distress.
Megumi sighed. “Fine. What?”
Much to his surprise, the smile fell into something serious, and for once, Megumi wondered if Gojo was actually going to be mad at him. “You don’t have to make the world a better place by yourself.” Megumi cocked his head. That was not what he was expecting. “There are others trying to do the same as you. And before you scoff,” Megumi swallowed his noise of skepticism.
It was times like this when Gojo decided to pull his full height. It made Megumi feel like a kid again. He hated it, and he knew that he would hate the next words that come out of his teacher’s mouth. “By its definition, you are a child.” He made a face. “Urgh, I sound like Nanami. But as much as I hate to agree with him, he’s right on that end. You’re supposed to rely on the adults to take care of some things.”
“But-”
“Megumiiii, I’m trying to tell you that we share the same goals. The sorcerer world has problems. The non-sorcerer world has problems. We both want to change things so the rotten doesn’t control everything. I don’t care that you beat up the bullies in your school; they probably deserved it.” Gojo took a deep breath, putting his glasses back on. “My point is, I’m here for you. I know I’m not around a lot of the time, but I love when I am and I get to see you find what you want to do.”
For no good reason, something started to sting behind Megumi’s eyes.
Gojo laughed softly to himself, placing a hand atop Megumi’s urchin-styled hair and ruffling it up. They were both mildly surprised at the lack of a fuss about it. It only made Gojo pull the middle-schooler into his arms, a huge smile plastered on his face.
The scent of daifuku and fancy cologne filled Megumi’s nose. It smelled like the apartment. Or maybe the apartment smelled like Gojo. “You’re right. I’m shit at parenting. I get why you don’t fully trust me yet. But! I love you the same. I love, love, looove you. You hear that, ‘gumi?”
“That’s gross,” Megumi replied, but his face stayed pressed against Gojo’s chest, and eventually, a mumbled back I love you floated through the air.
Over the years, Gojo never got any less crazy. And with the addition of one appropriately strong-headed Nobara Kugasaki, and in his own way, a Yuji Itadori, the levels of energy, obnoxious, and people in Megumi’s business tripled. Was it annoying? Absolutely and he would gladly tell them off for it too. But pretty soon, the annoyance turned into comfort. And the more time he spent listening to random conversations of shopping and sweets and strings of swears, the more he wanted to hold onto those moments and never let go. Megumi was surrounded by more people than he ever thought he could care about all because of a white-headed buffoon. A white-headed buffoon that took him and Tsumiki in, that trained Megumi in the ways of Jujutsu, that gave him friends, mentors, and a place to call home.
Technically, Gojo was his benefactor. But not technically?
Gojo Satoru was family.