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Yuuji’s proposal was fucking ridiculous, but in his defense, it was all Satoru’s idea.
“Things move quicker for people like us,” Satoru had said, voice muffled by the lollipop shoved in his mouth. He let himself sit lax and comfortable on the bleachers, powerful eyes hidden beneath his trademark blindfold as he watched his other students spar across the field. Upon sensing Yuuji’s confusion, the teacher pulled the candy from his mouth, sitting up a little straighter. “What I mean is, us Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long.”
Yuuji frowned at that. Satoru, Nanami, and Shoko were all pushing thirty, and Yaga was god-knows-how-old. Fifty? Fifty-five? Ancient as far as fifteen-year-old Yuuji was concerned.
“For the most part,” Satoru laughed. “And even when we are living, it’s never just for the hell of it. We live for other people. To protect the weak.”
Yuuji pulled his attention away from his classmates, brown eyes flickering toward his teacher.
“When you’re given a pocket of time for yourself, make sure to fill it with all the things you love,” Satoru told him. “So that way, when your hands are full, you’ll still be close to what you hold dear.”
Yuuji remembered taking a minute to process that rare spiel of sentiment from his teacher. It wasn’t often that Satoru-sensei got emotional – unless you considered being purposefully obnoxious an emotion, then Satoru would be labeled the most sappy, soupy, slushy hysterical drama king the world had ever seen.
But still, the advice seemed to spur up out of nowhere, hitting Yuuji like a lightning bolt in the open space of the training grounds.
Megumi and Maki were sparring out in the middle while Panda, Inumaki, and Nobara were playing cards on the ground just a few steps away. Nobody else had heard Satoru-sensei’s heart-felt drabble, and now that Yuuji was thinking back, it was probably meant to be that way. A message from teacher to student, a helping hand to get him off the fence.
Because Satoru saw the way Yuuji’s eyes followed Megumi as he moved. He noticed the devotion, the loyalty, the closeness. He recognized the love disguised as a more distant partnership; Satoru Gojo knew from personal experience what could happen if a distance like that wasn’t closed. The regrets, the loneliness – the hollow feeling that would follow.
Now, nowhere in that little speech had Satoru instructed Yuuji to propose, but Yuuji always had a weird way of interpreting things. He wasn’t dumb, per se, but he was… socially inept.
So, a couple of days later on that upcoming Saturday, Yuuji dragged Nobara to town and the two of them put their money together to buy a ring… pop. A ring pop. Because after scavenging through their pockets, purses, and wallets, their combined total for spending money was 436 yen, a rubber band, two nails, and a gum wrapper.
Determined, Yuuji (with Nobara’s help) picked out the most glamorous ring pop the corner store had to offer. And then they called Maki and begged her to buy them some ice cream.
The proposal itself was, as stated early, absolutely fucking nuts.
It was a Wednesday, cloudy and muggy from the previous day’s unruly rain, and the grass beneath their feet was slippery with dew. Yuuji walked with his hands tucked into his pockets and the biggest, dopiest grin slapped onto his face. He didn’t catch the way Megumi blushed at the goofy expression, but he did notice the lingering hand open for him to take.
Any other time during their between-class walks, Yuuji would gladly take Megumi’s hand. He loved the feeling of their fingers laced around each other’s, their palms pressed together, a little sweaty from the nerves. Yuuji Itadori was a simple guy and relatively easy to please – but Megumi Fushiguro opened a door that he hadn’t even known was locked and guided him into a whole new world full of shadows in the shape of hearts.
Megumi was truly something. Something that Yuuji really, really didn’t want to lose.
“You okay?” Megumi asked when Yuuji’s face turned a deep rosy red. “You’re quieter than usual.”
Yuuji fought the urge to smack himself and settled for a bubbly laugh — which came more naturally than he realized. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay. Just, um… thinking.”
Megumi’s lips twitched into what Yuuji had come to recognize as a smile. “Thinking, huh? Must be hard to do without a brain.”
Yuuji pouted, pretending to be insulted as he bumped his shoulder against Megumi’s. The ring pop wrapper crinkled in his pocket.
They were walking further and further away from the classroom, heading toward the school’s garden where they’d sit for a few minutes and talk some more before looping around and heading back to class. Yuuji’s hands twitched with anticipation as the scent of roses and raspberries filled his nose.
He counted down in his head. On three, he told himself. I’ll take out the ring and say, ‘I love you, Megumi. Please marry me.’
On two, Yuuji tripped over a twig and tumbled to the ground.
Megumi hid his gasp and rolled his eyes, playfully kicking Yuuji’s dramatic body spread out on the dewy grass. He offered his left hand, that sort-of smile sketched onto his lips. “You’re way too clumsy to be the one and only vessel of Sukuna,” Megumi teased. “C’mon, airhead. Get up.”
Yuuji took the hand with a warm smile and pulled himself upward. He stopped when one knee was planted firmly in the grass, Megumi’s hand clasped in his own, an idea blasting open in that “airy” head of his.
There wasn’t really any time to second-guess or overthink. One moment Yuuji was in the process of standing up, and the next he was on one knee trying to open a ring pop with one hand.
Megumi’s eyes widened, the most emotion he’d shown on his face since the day he was born and wailed because of the temperature and pressure difference of the outside world. He felt like he’d been gut-punched by Todo again, his breath evicted from his body.
Because Yuuji was an idiot! He was so stupid and so irresponsible and so clumsy and–
–so, so incredible.
Yuuji was good in all the ways a person could be good. And for some reason – a reason that Megumi couldn’t understand for the life of him – he was sharing that goodness. And with Megumi, of all people.
It was absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Yuuji finally managed to open the ring pop, that cheesy smile big enough to make his eyes crinkle. “Fushiguro,” he announced in a voice that was much too deep and silly to be natural. He cleared his throat and tucked the trash in his pocket before steadying his rapidly beating heart, adjusting Megumi’s hand in his own. “Will you–”
Megumi stopped him, yanking his palm away with a furious blush on his exasperated face. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing,” he blurted, eyebrows furrowed.
Yuuji blinked, dumbfounded. “Huh?” Why isn’t he jumping up and down, crying tears of joy like the pretty ladies in the movies?
“We’re only fifteen! We can’t get married!”
Yuuji gasped dramatically enough to make Shakespeare roll in his grave with jealousy. “What?! Why not?!”
“First off, it’s illegal. Where are we gonna find an officiant who’ll let two minors get married without parental consent? We don’t even have parents!”
“Hey! Satoru-sensei can sign the papers–”
“And not to mention our line of work,” Megumi went on. His voice was tight with panic and borderline hysteria as he scrambled to get his anxieties out of his head and into Yuuji’s. “I thought the reason we didn’t put a label on ‘us’ is because we don’t know what the future holds. You can’t sit here and tell me we’ll be together forever when you’re scheduled to be executed–”
“Fushiguro, listen to me,” Yuuji cut in, a foreign look of seriousness on his face. Megumi’s mouth snapped shut. “Satoru-sensei told me something the other day, okay? He said ‘when you’re given a pocket of time for yourself, make sure to fill it with all the things you love.’ And I… I love you, Fushiguro.”
Megumi shook his head. “It’s not…” He frowned. “You’re just infatuated with me because I’m the only person around here who has shown romantic interest in you. There’s no way you… you don’t actually love me, Itadori. You don’t.”
“I know I can be pretty stupid, but I know myself and I know how I feel about you.” Yuuji smiled weakly, shifting a little awkwardly in the soggy grass. “Trust me on that, okay? I love you.”
“This is a terrible time to be in love,” Megumi countered.
“What can I say? You make me selfish, Fushi.” Yuuji’s laughter was rich like honey, familiar like windchimes outside a childhood home. “Never before in my whole life have I ever loved something as selfishly as I love you. God, I wish I had the right words to describe it… You make me want to put myself first and take care of myself, just so I’ll be able to hold your hand later or watch a movie with you after the sun sets. When I’m not with you, all I can think about is when I’ll see you again. And when I’m with you, I’m the happiest guy in the whole world. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I know technically we are just kids, but I don’t know what’ll happen to us in the future, y’know? And I don’t want to die without seeing you in a white suit walking down the aisle.”
“Yuuji–”
“I’ll let you steal my hoodies whenever you want,” Yuuji said, breathless, “if you just… marry me? Please?”
Megumi let Yuuji push the ring pop onto his finger.
“I want to make forever out of the little time that we have,” Yuuji whispered. “I want to at least pretend that we get a happy ending, even if...”
All Megumi could do was kiss him and hope Yuuji could feel the ‘I love you too’ whispered against his lips.
Nobara and Maki were the first ones to find out. They were hanging out in the classroom sharing a bag of chips and some strawberry milk that Maki snagged from the vending machine when Yuuji texted Nobara in all caps: “HE SAID YES!!”
And then, before Maki could ask, Nobara dived head first into an explanation. Inumaki and Panda listened in, and within seconds, the students were scrambling to find their teacher who liked to inconveniently disappear during their lunch break.
Inumaki found Satoru sitting up on a windowsill inside the morgue, his blindfold pushed up on his forehead and a book loose in his hands. Shoko was nearby, a few rooms down in her unofficial office, shifting through paperwork, a cigarette resting between her lips. The smoke wafted out into the cavernous foyer.
“What’s up, Inumaki?” Satoru called before the student even located his teacher’s exact location. The greeting brought his eyes and feet to the right spot, trotting through the spacious area and glancing upwards. The windows were high up like the ceiling, with thin window sills sticking out on the dark gray walls. One of Satoru’s long, skinny legs draped over the side, his foot swaying in the air parallel to the wall; the other was bent in front of him, being used as a makeshift lectern for his book.
“Kelp.” Inumaki offered a simple greeting, deciding against asking why Satoru was in the morgue’s lobby of all places. And up the wall on a windowsill, no less. “Tuna…” Inumaki gestured with his hands, mimicking Megumi’s spiky hair, then wiggled his left ring finger. “Salmon, tuna mayo. Salmon roe.”
Satoru grinned like a fucking lunatic. “Are you serious?” he blurted, already hopping down from the window. (The fall would’ve ruined anyone else’s ankles, but Satoru made sure to soften it with his CT.) “I can’t believe the kid had it in him! C’mon, Inumaki, we’ve got a wedding to plan!”
Satoru paid for everything. The outfits, the venue, the cake, the random people pretending to be Yuuji and Megumi’s extended family – all of it was provided by Satoru Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, the ridiculous drama queen.
The venue was spacious with a rich, warm aroma of pine blended with smoky hints of cedarwood and amber, which Satoru knew Yuuji would appreciate. (The smell was similar to that of brown sugar bacon.) The windows were tall and the ceiling was high, supported by dark wooden beams wrapped in fairy lights that Nobara handpicked. She had taken charge of the core decorations, guiding the workers Satoru hired to string up fake vines along with the lights, giving a vintage-rustic vibe that Megumi was sure to absolutely adore. Hints of light pink and dark blue were scattered around the venue in the form of flowers, napkins, and outfits – and of course, the six-tier cake was pink and blue as well.
Satoru stood at the empty altar, admiring his work. The only people to arrive so far were the ones he hired – aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends, and so on, each given a document containing a brief description of their personality, relationship with either Yuuji or Megumi, and two fond memories to share during small talk.
Satoru’s personal favorite was Megumi’s alcoholic great-aunt Eva from the Netherlands, known for her fabulous pea soup, excess lipstick, and constant chit-chatting (shit-talking).
The first people to arrive were Nobara, Maki, Inumaki, and Panda in a limousine driven by Ijichi and purchased by Satoru a few days in advance. Satoru met them at the venue’s entrance, a wide smile on his face.
Panda crawled out first, awkward on his feet, wearing his tacky “Itafushi” themed bowtie (dark blue with pink spots) and arms full of gifts. After him, Inumaki popped out in a custom suit that replaced the collar with a pastel pink hoodie and allowed him to cover his mouth. They shot a polite wave at Satoru before running off to cause some mischief in the empty venue before the other guests arrived.
The girls had a little more decorum. Maki was in a dark blue tailored suit, and she held Nobara’s hand as the shorter girl scooted out of the limo, careful but confident on her heels. Her dress must’ve cost at least 2 million yen, with a lighter to darker pink ombre from top to bottom, reaching just a little bit past her knees. Lacey sleeves ran up her arms and across her collarbones, and a blue pendant necklace the same color as Maki’s suit was draped around her neck.
Satoru knew instantly that the students used his black card to buy their outfits, and he couldn’t have been more proud.
“I expected something more extravagant from you, sensei,” Nobara blurted, walking hand-in-hand with Maki toward their teacher. “A blue tux? You’re losing your touch, drama king.”
“If it were up to me, I’d be in a starry blue gown and pink stilettos,” he countered, only half joking, “but alas, I promised Megs I wouldn’t embarrass him too much on his wedding day.”
“How considerate of you,” Maki said, dripping with sarcasm. Satoru held the door open for them, and as the girls entered the main ballroom-esque area, they scanned the place with poorly concealed excitement. “You did pretty good with the venue, though,” Maki went on. “Did Shoko help you?”
“Nope!” Satoru cheered. “Well, your lovely girlfriend did all the decorations and whatnot, but I found this place all by myself.”
He left out the part about the venue’s history – that he had this place built back in 2006 with his clan’s money, thinking he would one day need the perfect place to marry Suguru Geto. A big ballroom, a fancy bar, and all that. Of course, the music technology had been updated, but the layout was the same as it had been scribbled into the margins of Satoru’s math homework.
It was good that Yuuji and Megumi were getting a chance at this. Satoru could live with a few heart-crushing high school memories if it meant his kids could have a perfect night.
“Quit that,” Nobara said, snapping her manicured fingers right in front of Satoru’s eyes, covered by his glasses. “Your glasses don’t cover everything like your blindfold does, so tell your pathetic, fossilized disco eyeballs that there’s no crying tonight.”
Gasping as if he were physically wounded, Satoru jumped back at Nobara’s insulting attempt at comfort. Still, he followed the girls further inside with a goofy pep in his step, waving to a paid actor pretending to be Megumi’s favorite teacher from elementary school and Satoru’s ex-wife. What was a wedding without a little bit of drama?
Not too long after the Tokyo students arrived, the venue began to fill up with dozens of people trickling in. Satoru scanned for threats, of course, but otherwise paid them no mind. He knew this night was going to be absolutely perfect.
When Shoko showed up in a simple dark blue, almost black suit with a matching tie and a white button-down underneath, Satoru smiled like an absolute lunatic. Her hair was combed and, if his nose wasn’t deceiving him, freshly washed.
“You clean up nice. Almost didn’t recognize you without the cigarette stench,” he teased as the doctor made her way over.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Shoko grumbled, failing to hide the playfulness in her tone. “We might have to trade shoes later. These heels are fucking killing me.”
Satoru smirked. “Hell fucking yeah! I love heels, they’re so slutty!”
“You’re ridiculous,” Shoko laughed. “Speaking of slutty, who’s the hot chick by the bar?”
Satoru grinned, shrugging flippantly.
Shoko glared at him. “Please do not tell me these people are–”
“Paid actors!” he cut in, blue eyes shimmering behind his black-tinted glasses. “I couldn’t help myself. I’ve always wanted to attend a big fancy wedding, you know?”
“Satoru, you fucking idiot–”
“Ah, ah, ah!” He wiggled one of his obnoxiously long fingers in Shoko’s face. “I’m the wedding planner and the father of one of the grooms so you can’t tell me what to do, stinky!” He stuck his tongue out like a child, ignoring the way Shoko rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“On the topic of your terrible organization skills and your less-than-ideal parenting, do you know when the ‘grooms’ are gonna be here?” Shoko asked with a tired sigh, adjusting the cuffs of her suit.
Satoru waved her away, disinterested. “Nanami has all that covered. I’m just waiting for the bartender to show up.”
Shoko snorted a laugh. “Father of the year right here, ladies and gentlemen. And you don’t even drink, dude.”
“Okay, and?” Satoru countered. “That bartender is the second most heart-stopping, jaw-droppingly beautiful being to roam the face of the Earth! With all this commotion, I could use some eye candy.”
“Ew,” Shoko muttered. “Let me guess, first place belongs to the one and only–”
The scream came from across the venue, loud enough to stun the entire place into silence. “Satoru, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!”
Immediately, Satoru sprung into action with a ridiculous grin, pushing his glasses up on his forehead and practically vaulting over the crowd.
At the main entrance stood a familiar figure, the source of the outburst: Utahime Iori, dressed in a simple pastel pink gown, her blackish-purple hair tied up with a matching ribbon. As Satoru approached, his goofy smile doubled in size while Utahime’s irritation tripled.
“Utahime!” Satoru cheered, practically tackling her in a hug. It lasted only a fraction of a second so Satoru could step back and pull the coat of Limitless back over him and his navy blue tux. “What’s got your panties in a twist, scarface?”
“You are SO LUCKY that you’re strong,” Utahime seethed, “because I would beat the SHIT out of you if I could!”
“Not just strong,” Satoru cackled, “but the strongest.”
“Whatever!” Utahime cried. “Why are there eight limos parked outside? And why the hell are you hosting a wedding for your students?! I thought this was for Nanami!”
“Pfffft- Nanami?” Satoru spat, choking back his laughter. “You thought Nanami was getting married?! Oh, Utahime, you poor thing. You poor, stupid, weak little thing.”
The woman launched her foot forward at Satoru’s groin, seething when it bounced off the invisible shield. She settled for a round of “I hate you”s before marching off to find Shoko smoking by the altar.
While the two women chatted – probably about how inconvenient it was that their annoying friend with a punchable face was the strongest sorcerer in modern history – Satoru meandered toward the exit, out the hallway, and to the front door, greeting the actual friends and (found) family of the two grooms as they arrived.
Stepping out of the same Kyoto school-owned car Utahime had bolted out of, two third-year students and a blue-haired second-year came into view. The tallest of the three was a student Satoru recognized instantly – Aoi Todo, a close friend (brother?) of Yuuji’s. He remembered the kid being as absurd as he was strong, but to show up to his friend’s wedding in a pair of basketball shorts, a button-up shirt, and a tie with Takada-chan’s face printed onto it? Ballsy. Almost respectable, but mostly just ballsy.
The other third-year was Noritoshi Kamo who Satoru only knew because of his battle against Megumi during the exchange event. (That night Satoru had pried all the details he could out of his kid, fighting the urge to buy out Party City when Megumi told him about his Max Elephant stunt.) For the wedding, Kamo was dressed in a simple tux, a shade of blue dark enough to look jet black from far away.
Lastly, Kasumi Miwa, with a smile to rival the sun. Satoru remembered her as the little girl who asked for a picture with him, and the way she skipped off afterward reminded him a little too much of Riko. For the wedding, Miwa wore her blue hair in a braided low bun with a few small pink butterfly clips the same color as her dress, which was fabulous but not over the top. (And very obviously cheap.)
Satoru greeted them with enthusiasm, pointing them in the right direction.
Almost immediately after, Nanami arrived, and with him was groom number one, Yuuji Itadori. He stepped out of the car looking surprisingly composed in a classic black tuxedo, the jacket slightly unbuttoned to reveal a crisp white shirt underneath. Despite the formal attire, he still had that laid-back, friendly demeanor that made him notoriously approachable to everyone around him. Satoru opened his arms in a “tada!” sort of gesture, but Yuuji interpreted it differently, grinning like a menace as he bolted forward.
Satoru took his Infinity down quickly enough to let Yuuji crash into him, hugging him like a lifebuoy. “Thank you,” Yuuji blurted. “Thank you so much, sensei, you’re the best ever and I owe you, like, a trillion times.”
Laughing, Satoru ruffled Yuuji’s hair on instinct, much to Nanami’s dismay, who approached the two only a few moments later. “Do you know how long it took me to get his hair to stay in place?” the man groaned, peeling Yuuji off the teacher. Satoru’s response was a cheeky grin, reaching forward to revert Yuuji’s pink hair back to its normal, untamed yet charming halo.
“Is Fushiguro here yet?” the student asked, eyes wide and full of life.
“Itadori, we went over the schedule three times,” Nanami groaned, smoothing the non-existent creases from his pink suit. (The sight was fabulous, Satoru had to admit.) “He won’t be here for another hour. And Satoru, you insufferable brat, you’re supposed to be helping Fushiguro get ready. What are you even doing here?”
“I’m the welcoming party,” Satoru whined. “I wanted to show off!”
Nanami scoffed. “I should’ve guessed. Your show-off hour is up, so go check in with your son and make sure everything is ready to go.”
With a goofy salute and one more pat on the head to Yuuji, Satoru followed instructions and headed back home. He considered taking one of the limos, but contrary to popular belief, Satoru Gojo was a terrible driver. Putting him behind the wheel of a limousine was a crime in and of itself.
So instead, he warped back to his apartment, careful to land softly on the plush carpet of his living room. Distantly, he could hear some sniffling down the hall and tip-toed in that direction. He made it a point to keep Infinity off so Megumi could hear him approaching.
The Six Eyes told Satoru where Megumi was, but he still felt the need to remove his glasses as he entered the room. Megumi sat on the edge of Tsumiki’s bed, trying and failing to keep up with the tears running down his cheeks. Like always, he did his best to cry silently, and like always, it broke Satoru’s heart.
He wanted to say something, but his mind was blank. Trying to cheer him up felt shallow, but Satoru didn’t know if he could handle seeing his little boy so wrecked with sorrow.
Thankfully, Megumi spoke first.
“We used to talk about weddings when we were little,” he whispered. “She always wanted to get married. She loved the idea of being in love, and I- I remember helping her design her wedding dress with crayons we stole from our elementary school.”
Satoru pulled the chair from Tsumiki’s desk and positioned it next to the bed. His heart felt heavy, and he wished he could understand it better.
“She was the one who wanted a happy ending,” Megumi cried. His voice never raised, instead stretching thin and drying up despite the wetness on his cheeks. “She’s the one that was looking forward to being in love, Satoru, and I- I took it from her. Why do I get to be happy and- why do I get what she wanted? Why is- I don’t–” Frustrated and with tears clouding his green eyes, Megumi looked up at his teacher. The words were jumbled up in his throat, and the emotions were caught up in the storm of his mind, and none of it made sense. “It’s not fair,” Megumi said, and his voice was so quiet, so broken and so weak that Satoru stopped breathing.
How does a teacher explain to a student that he shouldn’t feel guilty for feeling happy?
How does a father tell his son that no, it’s not fair, but there’s nothing that can be done? If there was, Satoru would have done it. He would have set the world on fire if it meant keeping his kids safe. It was times like these when Satoru hated himself the most – when someone he cared for was struggling, and there was nothing he could do about it. Satoru didn’t know anything about emotions. His own grief made him cold and distant, and even twelve years later, he hadn’t quite figured it out. How was he supposed to help his kid when he was just as messed up?
“I’m sorry,” Megumi muttered, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry, fuck… I didn’t mean to ruin anything, I just–”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Satoru cut in, making his voice as soft and welcoming as he could. He tried to remember how Suguru sounded when he shook Satoru awake after a nightmare. “It’s okay, you- It’s okay to feel like shit right now, Megs. This is a shitty situation.”
“It’s my fucking wedding day,” Megumi scoffed. “I’m supposed to be happy.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘supposed to’ when it comes to emotions,” Satoru countered. “You feel however you feel, and that’s the blessing and the curse of being human.” He sighed, taking off his shades and placing them on Tsumiki’s bedside table, right beside the vase of wilting lilies. “Your sister should be here to congratulate you,” Satoru whispered. “She should be helping you get ready and lecturing me on proper manners because I’m way too informal and she’s the only one between the three of us who ever had a clue what was going on. She should be here, and it’s not fair that she’s not… But Megumi, you are going to drive yourself crazy if you continue to blame yourself. You are allowed to enjoy things. You deserve to feel happy.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, and Satoru fought the urge to grab his glasses and hide behind the dark lenses. Instead, he moved his gaze to Tsumiki, lying still and silent on the bed.
“I just–” Megumi’s voice broke, and he choked back a sob. “I just want her to see me. I’m not a little brat anymore. I want her to see how much I’ve grown.” He hiccuped and cursed himself under his breath for it, furiously wiping away the water pooling in his eyes. “I want her to be proud of me.”
Without thinking, Satoru reached out and pulled Megumi into his arms, carding through unstyled black hair and pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. Megumi tucked his face into Satoru’s chest and let himself cry, clinging to his dad’s suit with shaky yet violent fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru breathed, blinking back tears of his own, “I’m so, so sorry, Megumi. I wish I could do something, but I- fuck…” He squeezed his eyes shut, already feeling the burn of overstimulation. He held Megumi a little tighter, listening as the boy’s sobs and hiccups eased down. “If it means anything,” Satoru said, “I’m proud of you. You are so strong and so smart, and you have so much goodness in your heart. I’m so incredibly proud of you, Megumi, and I know your sister is, too.”
“Thanks,” Megumi said albeit slowly. He wasn’t sure how to properly express his gratitude, but Satoru seemed satisfied with the simple response. Megumi unraveled himself and stood up, turning to look at himself in Tsumiki’s full-body mirror. He frowned. “I look like shit.”
“Nothing a little makeup can’t fix,” Satoru declared. “C’mon, let’s get you ready for your big day.”
After half an hour of Satoru fussing over Megumi’s face with liquid concealers and beauty blenders – and fifteen minutes of Megumi trying to apply eyeliner on his waterline because the last time he did it, Yuuji complimented him five times like a puppy with short-term memory loss – Satoru pulled Megumi’s designer suit from the closet. Satoru turned his back, checking his messages from Shoko and Nanami, while Megumi changed. When he finished, Satoru fussed over him some more, fixing his collar and cuffs and such.
Megumi took thirty more minutes to style his hair the way he liked (Satoru didn’t dare interfere. The last time he did became the first time he ever broke a bone.) and before long, they were out the door.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up that I’m driving to my own wedding?” Megumi grumbled as he pulled onto the highway. Satoru remembered the panic attack Megumi had the first time he had to merge onto the highway. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have laughed as hard as he did, but in his defense, middle school Megumi had a very colorful vocabulary when he was stressed.
Actually, in hindsight, Satoru probably shouldn’t have taught a middle schooler how to drive. But whatever! All’s well that ends well or whatever the prophets say.
Satoru grinned, adding a few songs to the ridiculous playlist he arranged to be played during the reception. “I don’t mind driving, Megs, as long as you don’t mind running red lights and possibly killing old women crossing the street.”
It was a battle to keep himself from smiling, Megumi realized. “You’re sick. Now tell me where this venue is. I have no idea where I’m going.”
Satoru looked up from his phone, scanning the area. “Uh-huh, okay… Yeah, you should’ve taken the exit, like, ten minutes ago.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Satoru’s laughter was sweet like overripe lemons drenched in sewage.
When they arrived, Yuuji was lingering by the entrance, nervously chatting with the other guests. He and Nobara were interviewing one of the paid actors – Yuuji’s supposed uncle from Ethiopia who taught Yuuji’s supposed cousin how to drive in Yuuji’s supposed aunt’s supposed BMW. It was quite the story.
However, the moment Megumi stepped out of the car, Yuuji's eyes lit up like fireworks, and he practically sprinted outside, almost tackling his soon-to-be husband to the ground with the force of his hug.
“Fushiguro!” he exclaimed, “You’re here!”
“I am,” Megumi laughed, gently prying himself out of Yuuji’s grasp.
“And you look amazing,” Yuuji went on. “Man, white is really your color. The black accents are a nice touch too. Actually, I think every color is your color! Uh, not in a gay way– well, yeah, in a gay way, but I didn’t mean ‘every color is your color’ as a rainbow joke, I just meant you look great in everythi–”
“I literally cannot understand you,” Megumi cut in, playfully covering Yuuji’s mouth with his palm. “But thank you. You look nice, too.”
Beaming, Yuuji rocked back on his heels. "All thanks to Nanamin," he said. "He was like a drill sergeant, making sure everything was perfect."
Satoru watched the interaction with a satisfied smile. "Alright, lovebirds!" he cheered, clapping his hands together. "We have a schedule to keep! Let’s get you two inside and ready for the ceremony."
As they walked inside, the venue buzzed with excitement. The rustic decorations, the fairy lights, and the carefully chosen colors created a perfect atmosphere of warmth and celebration. The guests mingled, some making their way to the bar while others took their seats, eagerly awaiting the ceremony. Satoru stopped to talk to the bartender with a mischievous grin, letting the boys head toward the ceremony area in search of Nanami.
“I kinda forgot how this works,” Yuuji admitted as he latched onto Megumi’s hand.
“It’s okay,” Megumi told him, “Nanami will show you what to do.”
Yuuji frowned. “What if I mess it up?”
Megumi flicked his forehead. “There’s nothing to mess up, dofus. You’re just gonna stand up at the altar, look handsome, and wait for me to walk down the aisle.”
Yuuji grinned. “That should be easy enough.”
“This way, Itadori,” Nanami called. Begrudgingly, Yuuji released Megumi’s hand, waving goodbye as he weaved through the seats and up toward the altar. Megumi watched him go, feeling his heart thumping against his chest. As the guests migrated toward the ceremony area and took their seats, Megumi found Satoru sulking at the bar and dragged him to the backroom where Shoko, Maki, and Inumaki were waiting.
“You look good, shithead,” Maki complimented. Megumi rolled his eyes (his version of a “thank you”) and sat in the chair Shoko gestured to.
“Your eyes are a little bloodshot,” Shoko commented. “I hope you’re not high.”
“Bonito flakes.”
“Nah, he’s not high,” Satoru chuckled. “Just allergies. He’ll be alright.”
Megumi made a mental note to be a little nicer to Satoru tomorrow. Maybe he’d get him a Digimon figure or something as a thank you.
After even more fussing over his appearance, Shoko was satisfied and led Maki and Inumaki out to the ceremony area. Yuta was scheduled to arrive soon, Inumaki signed, and Megumi nodded. While Maki was his “best man,” Inumaki and Yuta were his two groomsmen. (Megumi wasn’t that close with Yuta, but both Satoru and Inumaki begged to have Yuta invited, and Megumi decided that if Yuta was coming, he might as well be a groomsman. That way Megumi didn’t have to deal with Panda shedding.)
When the three of them were gone, Megumi let himself decompress a little. Satoru stood in the doorway with a loopy grin, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Megumi glared at him..
“What the hell are you so happy about?” he snapped.
“Nothing, nothing!” Satoru laughed, uncrossing his arms. “Just that my little boy is growing up.”
“I’m fifteen, you airhead.”
“Whatever, that’s not the point,” Satoru said. “It’s just a little surreal for me, y’know? It feels like just yesterday you were six years old and summoning your puppy dogs to bite my ankles.”
“You’re annoying,” Megumi grumbled.
“With pride and pleasure, kiddo.”
A soft silence settled over them. Once the music started, they’d have to re-enter the ceremony area, but for now, Megumi sat and stared at the large desk mirror in front of him. For the first time in a while, he liked what he saw.
Satoru pinched his cheek, and Megumi swatted his hand away. Before he could spit some profanity, he noticed the tears welling up in his guardian’s eyes. “No,” he scolded. “We already did the crying shit today, so cut it out.”
Satoru laughed. “Damn, Nobara was right about the glasses, huh?” he muttered. “Sorry, Megs. I’m just happy for you.”
Megumi could tell there was more to it than that. He didn’t want to pry, but he did file the information for later.
The sound of music trickled through the venue, reaching Satoru and Megumi in the back room. It wasn’t the usual music but instead, an indie song Megumi recognized as one of Yuuji’s favorites. Grinning, he stood up and took the hand his dad offered him.
The walk down the aisle felt like miles. Yuuji stared at him the whole time, sniffling and blinking back tears of joy, fidgeting with his hands. His line of groomsmen included Todo, Nobara, and Panda – two of which were extremely underdressed and the third looking like a model. In front of those three, Shoko sat on the edge of the altar stage with a plush velvet pillow with two wedding bands on it and a basket of blue and pink flower petals. Every now and then she reached into the basket to sprinkle a few, though they all landed in a semi-circle by her heels.
On the other side of the altar stage were Megumi’s groomsmen: Maki, Inumaki, and Yuta, who clearly showed up just a few minutes ago. He held Inumaki’s hand and smiled brightly.
Ijichi was in front of the stage on Megumi’s side with a basket of his own, doing his best to spread the petals without tripping over himself. Ino, who sat on the end in the front row beside Nanami, didn’t help much, occasionally sticking his foot out in hopes of causing some mischief.
When Megumi was in view, though, everyone stopped. Satoru let him walk up the few steps to the altar stage and took his seat in the empty chair by Shoko, who moved to a proper chair once Megumi joined hands with Yuuji.
The “officiant” Satoru hired was a college student who needed to make some money to pay off her debt. She was pursuing a clinical psychology degree with a minor in family studies, so Satoru decided she’d be the best candidate. (He learned all this information through a Tinder profile he and Shoko made in Nanami’s name for shits and giggles.)
Despite all that, the young woman seemed very composed up there, clearing her throat to start speaking. “Welcome, everyone. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Yuuji Itadori and Megumi Fushiguro," she began, her voice steady and warm. "Today is a day of joy, a day where we witness two hearts coming together as one. It is a testament to the love and strength that Yuuji and Megumi share, a love that has flourished despite all odds."
Megumi squeezed Yuuji's hand, feeling a surge of warmth and reassurance. Yuuji's eyes were fixed on him, filled with love and determination. Both of them were flushed red with embarrassment, but it was only expected from two fifteen-year-old boys who stood in front of a massive crowd of people all listening to how much they loved each other.
"Marriage is not just a bond between two people," the officiant continued, "but a bond that extends to their families and friends. It is a promise to support each other through all of life's challenges, to celebrate each other's triumphs, and to stand by each other's side, no matter what."
“That’s a weird thing to say,” Yuuji whispered.
“Shut up,” Megumi laughed under his breath.
"Yuuji and Megumi have chosen to write their own vows," the officiant announced, "to express in their own words the depth of their love and commitment to each other."
“Okay, wait, that’s actually really embarrassing when you say it like that,” Yuuji blurted. (Satoru’s laughter echoed throughout the venue, and a few of the paid actors followed suit.) Still, Yuuji took a deep breath, turning to face Megumi fully. "Megumi," he began, his voice trembling slightly, though the smile on his face was as bright as the sun. “You’re, like… really awesome. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t write any vows, but like I said, you’re awesome, so I could stand up here and talk about you forever.”
“Please don’t,” Megumi murmured.
Yuuji only grinned. “Megumi Fushiguro,” he announced, “I love you.”
Megumi snorted a laugh. “Wow. Shocker.”
"Hush, I’m vowing,” Yuuji chuckled. “I remember the first time we met, how you looked so serious and edgy and stuff. I remember thinking, ‘Wow, that guy is really hot.’ But as I got to know you, I realized that you’re not just hot, but you also have the best music taste ever, and you’re really good at baking, and you listen to me when I feel like talking. You’re so strong and so cool, and you’ve always been there for me, even when things got tough. Like, really tough. Like I’m-Going-To-Be-Executed-Soon kinda tough. You’re my best friend, Fushi. I love you, and I’m so hyped to be your husband.”
“Hell yeah!” Todo cheered.
Megumi couldn’t help but laugh, bowing his head to collect his thoughts. “Yuuji Itadori,” he began, “you are an absolute twat. You run head-first into danger, you’re loud when you shouldn’t be, and you can go the whole day wearing your shirt backward without even noticing.”
“Ouch,” Yuuji pouted.
“But,” Megumi went on, “you introduced me to a specific kind of joy that I know I can’t find anywhere else. You came into my life like a whirlwind, bringing light and warmth where there was once only darkness. You’ve shown me what it means to love deeply and live fully. And I know we’re just kids, and I know that we’re as star-crossed as they come, but I love you. You make me want to be a better person, and now that I know you, I can’t imagine getting through life without you. I promise to be there for you, to protect you, and to love you with all my heart, now and forever."
“Cornyyyy!” Nobara teased.
“Super corny,” Maki agreed.
The officiant cleared her throat, and Shoko stepped forward, holding the pillow with the wedding bands. Yuuji took one of the rings, his hands trembling slightly, and slipped it onto Megumi's finger. Megumi did the same, feeling the cool metal slide onto Yuuji's hand.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant declared, "I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss."
“Uh, no!” Satoru blurted. “They’re not gonna kiss! They might get cooties!”
“Shut the hell up, Satoru,” Nanami snapped.
Yuuji blinked, confusion scribbled all over his face. “Wait, can we kiss or not? I don’t want cooties.”
“Kiss if you feel like it,” Shoko said. “Satoru is just being a baby.”
Impatient, Megumi grabbed Yuuji’s tie and yanked him forward, catching him in a kiss. It was quick, but the meaning was the length of forever.