Chapter Text
Yuuji walked through the park, his board tucked under his arm.
The sun had set hours ago, the only source of light being the dim streetlights scattered around. He usually never skated this late, but after his performance today, he needed to blow off some steam.
Yuuji was somewhat of a local star on the skating scene. Ever since he started skating as a kid, everyone knew he would become something great. He was always practicing, even when he was a kid. The hours of dedication and training paid off, because now he was known for his incredible tricks and insane skill.
There were always people there to watch him, but he was used to the crowd by now. But, after his performance earlier in the competition, he had no idea what to do with himself. He had fallen on the trick that he was famous for. It was his signature move. A Tiger Flip 540—a hardflip with a 540-degree spin, his body twisting in mid-air while the board flipped under his feet. People went wild every time he pulled it off. The way he caught the board just before landing made it look effortless. But earlier today, he hadn't. He'd screwed up, crashing hard.
Now, Yuuji wasn't the type of person who'd get all sulky and sad about stuff like this. It happened. That was the reality of skating. But still, it left him feeling a bit shaken.
That led him to here, skating at night in hopes of getting a clear head.
He kicked his board, pushing it down the hill, letting his mind empty. It felt nice, being the only one in the park, only hearing the wheels roll and the wind rustle through the trees. He did a few tricks, nothing special, and let his legs do the work, his body moving on autopilot.
It was when he was about to pass the main bowl, the big one, that he saw it. Or, more like, him.
Another person was in the park.
In the dark, Yuuji couldn't make out many details. Just a thin frame and spiky hair.
The guy was wearing a black hoodie, which made him blend into the shadows.
Yuuji didn't expect anyone else to be here. He stopped his board, watching the person for a few seconds. His moves were calculated and precise, not a single ounce of hesitation.
He jumped, pulling his knees close to his chest and spinning mid-air, before landing gracefully.
Yuuji watched, mesmerized. The figure skated with an unmatched confidence. He seemed to glide on the ground, his movements smooth and elegant. Yuuji watched, transfixed, as he did a few more tricks.
He had more skill than the vast majority of skaters Yuuji knew. Even those who went pro.
Suddenly, the guy looked at him.
Yuuji froze, realizing he had been staring.
Even from afar, Yuuji could feel the guy's gaze, his intense eyes cutting through him.
Before Yuuji could think, his legs were moving. He skated toward the stranger, a grin stretching his lips.
"Hey," he called, "that was sick. I'm Yuuji. Uh, Itadori Yuuji."
The guy glanced at him. Yuuji had to blink, not expecting his face to be this striking. The stranger had sharp features, his cheekbones highlighted by the pale light of the street lamp. His eyes were a shade of blue Yuuji had never seen before, framed by long lashes, the dark contrasting his pale skin. His black hair was sticking up in every direction, messy and windswept.
The guy gave a short nod, "Thanks."
Yuuji couldn't tell if he was ignoring him or just not very talkative.
"What's your name?" Yuuji asked, hoping to strike up conversation.
"Fushiguro Megumi."
Yuuji grinned, "Nice to meet you, Fushiguro."
The other skater didn't return his smile. Instead, he continued skating.
Yuuji followed after him, "I've never seen you here before, but you seem pretty experienced. You skate much?"
Fushiguro didn't spare him a glance, "I guess. Only at night, though."
"Cool, cool. Why is that?"
He gave Yuuji a flat look, "Because there's no one to bother me."
"Ah," Yuuji chuckled, "Hey, I'm not bothering you."
Fushiguro scoffed, kicking off. Yuuji followed him.
"I'm serious, dude," he said, skating next to him, "That was crazy, the way you landed that jump. It was flawless."
"Yeah, right," Fushiguro muttered.
"I mean it! You have a lot of talent. How come I've never seen you at a competition before?"
Fushiguro sighed, "Because I don't compete."
Yuuji frowned, "What? Why not?"
"I don't want to," he replied simply, before doing a kickflip.
"Dude, are you kidding me?" Yuuji cried, "I mean, have you seen yourself skate? You could definitely go pro!"
Fushiguro shrugged, "Not interested. I like it, but I'd rather skate without all the pressure."
Yuuji couldn't blame him. Competing was stressful. If he messed up, or did something wrong, there would be tons of eyes on him, judging him. He got lucky with his first competition. He had been so nervous he could barely focus, but somehow he managed. After that, the next few were easier. But, they were still nerve-wracking.
Yuuji skated ahead, "I know what you mean. But, it's so much fun, too. You know, when everything clicks, and you feel like you're flying. That's the best."
Fushiguro hummed, "I guess so."
"C'mon, you can't say you don't love skating."
Fushiguro's lips quirked upwards, "It's pretty alright."
Yuuji scoffed, "Just pretty alright? That's the understatement of the year."
The two of them were now skating side by side, the wheels of their boards rolling in sync. Yuuji noticed the way Fushiguro moved, the way he shifted his weight to control the board. He was obviously very experienced.
Yuuji's eyes fell on Fushiguro's feet, watching as he kicked the board into a nose slide. Yuuji's brows raised, impressed. Fushiguro did the trick like it was nothing, his posture straight, his balance perfect.
Yuuji followed, trying the same trick. But, his board wobbled under him, and he ended up slipping, crashing onto the pavement.
Fushiguro stopped next to him, looking down at him. "You alright?"
"Peachy," Yuuji replied, dusting himself off.
Fushiguro gave him an unimpressed look, and Yuuji felt heat rush to his cheeks. He probably looked like a complete fool, falling like that.
"I'm usually much better," Yuuji defended, "I had a bad day today."
Fushiguro scoffed, "Don't tell me you're some professional skater who came to sulk because you lost."
Yuuji felt a rush of embarrassment.
"What? No! Well, kind of, but... no, it wasn't that bad. I'm not that upset about it. I've won plenty of competitions."
"Oh, so you're a showoff, too," Fushiguro stated, raising an eyebrow.
"Wh-what?! No! I'm not a showoff!"
Fushiguro snorted, rolling his eyes, "So, you don't spend your day hanging out in this skatepark, practicing the same tricks over and over, so people can come and watch?"
"Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds a little... But, that's not why I'm here. I'm not a showoff! Really."
Fushiguro didn't seem convinced, "Mhm."
Yuuji frowned. Was he really coming across like that? He wasn't trying to show off. He just loved skating, and he wanted to do it to the best of his abilities. He practiced, and trained, and honed his skills so he could improve, not to show off.
But, maybe people did see him that way.
Yuuji felt a rush of competitiveness. He didn't know why, but he wanted Fushiguro to like him. He wanted him to know that he wasn't just some flashy skater who tried too hard.
"Okay, watch," he said, skating ahead.
Fushiguro raised an eyebrow, watching him with curious eyes.
Yuuji took a deep breath. He had fallen earlier. He couldn't mess this up. Not in front of Fushiguro.
He kicked the board, gaining momentum, and jumped. The world turned, spinning around him, and then he landed, his feet hitting the board perfectly.
He couldn't help the grin on his face as he rolled, skating back towards Fushiguro.
"What do you think about that, huh?" he said, "Pretty sweet, right?"
Fushiguro stared at him, his eyes slightly wider than before.
"That was a 540," he noted.
"Uh, yeah," Yuuji said, his smile faltering, "Tiger flip. It's my signature trick. It's like a normal 540 but my body does a spin, too."
Fushiguro was looking at him strangely.
"Haven't heard of it."
Yuuji grinned. "Well that's because I invented it. I've never seen anyone else do a tiger flip."
Fushiguro's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "Really? A whole trick named after you?"
"Yep. It's my own invention," Yuuji beamed.
Fushiguro didn't say anything. He was staring at him with that same unreadable expression, like he couldn't figure him out.
Yuuji swallowed. He couldn't stop his mind from racing. Did he sound like an egotistical asshole? Was that why Fushiguro was looking at him like that? He didn't mean it that way.
"That's... cool, I guess," Fushiguro muttered.
That was it. Yuji had officially embarrassed himself in front of the first person he had met with as much talent as him. He wanted to disappear.
"Yeah," Yuuji forced out a chuckle, trying to cover his nervousness.
"Well if that's all, I'm going home," Fushiguro said.
Yuuji blinked. "What? Already?"
Fushiguro looked at him with an expression that made him feel dumb for asking. "I've been skating for a while now. It's getting late."
"Yeah, but... I was hoping we could talk a bit more. Hang out, or something," Yuuji blurted.
"What? Why?"
Yuuji shrugged, "I dunno. Just because. You're cool."
Fushiguro gave him a blank stare, "Are you always this eager to make friends?"
Yuuji flushed, "What? No, I-... I'm not. I just..."
Ugh, why was he being such a dork? He never struggled with social interactions. This wasn't him.
"It's late and I have class tomorrow," Fushiguro explained.
"Oh, right," Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry. Anyway, I'm usually here during the day. In case you want to, you know, hang out. Or, whatever."
Fushiguro eyed him, and Yuuji couldn't read his expression. He couldn't tell if Fushiguro was confused, amused, or annoyed. Maybe a combination of all three.
"I'll keep that in mind," Fushiguro replied.
Before Yuuji could say anything else, Fushiguro turned and skated away, leaving him alone.
"Oh. Alright, see you around, then."
Yuuji stood there for a second, processing what just happened.
"Huh," he muttered to himself.
Fushiguro was unlike any other person he had met before. Yuuji could usually get along with just about anyone. It was easy for him to befriend people, but Fushiguro seemed completely different. He was hard to read. He had a way of saying things that made Yuuji feel like an idiot.
Fushiguro wasn't very chatty, and seemed to get irritated easily. And, yet, Yuuji found himself drawn to him.
"Huh," he said again, kicking his board up and tucking it under his arm.
He decided to go home. There was no way he'd be able to focus on skating. Not with Fushiguro stuck in his head.
-
Megumi had to get the hell out of there.
He wasn't a very social person, and talking to people made him want to die. That was precisely why he had avoided the skatepark during the day, and had come here at night instead. It was empty and quiet, which meant he could practice in peace.
And it was empty. Until it wasn't.
Megumi's eyes widened as he looked up and saw someone watching him. He had messy pink hair, spiky and untamed, and a wide grin on his face. He had a lean frame, with broad shoulders, and toned muscles visible under his baggy T-shirt. His skin was tan, a few faded scars adorning his arms.
He had introduced himself as Itadori, but Megumi couldn't care less. He had hoped the guy would get bored of him, and leave him alone, but Itadori kept chatting, following him around.
His eyes were bright and friendly, a light brown that reminded Megumi of honey. He smiled easily, his lips curved upward naturally.
Megumi was surprised by his persistence. Normally, people didn't stick around long. Not once they saw his sharp words and cold attitude. But, Itadori kept chatting, not bothered by the short responses he got.
And, he kept complimenting him. Megumi had never met someone so genuine and eager. It was a bit annoying, really.
But, it wasn't bad. Not really.
And, when Itadori landed that 540, spinning effortlessly and rolling towards him, his grin widening...
Megumi had to get out of there. He was feeling something, a buzzing in his stomach. He couldn't be dealing with this.
He had left abruptly, ignoring the slight disappointment in Itadori's eyes.
He was fine. Everything was fine. He just needed to breathe. No big deal.
Itadori was probably just one of those overly friendly guys. There was no reason for him to be weird about it. He would forget him by the next day, and they would never cross paths again.
It was fine.
It was totally fine.
He was fine.
-
Itadori's invitation to the skatepark during the day echoed in Megumi's mind.
The idea was ridiculous. He would never. It was a stupid suggestion, anyway. The idea of skating in the daylight, surrounded by other people... It made him shudder. He'd rather eat glass.
But, for some reason, the thought lingered.
Itadori was an idiot. But, he was an idiot with talent.
Megumi couldn't stop thinking about that 540. The way Itadori's body twisted, the wheels spinning beneath him... it was perfection. He had a way of skating that Megumi was drawn to, even if he was clumsy and obnoxious.
Maybe if he were to see him skate again...
No.
Megumi was not going to do it. He wasn't going to the skatepark during the day to gawk at Itadori.
There was no way in hell.
"Megumi-chan, am I hallucinating or is that a skateboard in your hand? In broad daylight?!"
"Gojo," Megumi sighed, "Not today, please."
Gojo smirked, "Is my Megumi going to the skatepark, perhaps? During the day? With other people there?"
Megumi rolled his eyes, "I'm not your anything. And, I'm not gonna skate there. I'm just taking a walk."
"Uh huh, sure. Because you like walks. Right."
Megumi shoved his hands into his pockets, glaring at the ground, "Shut up."
Gojo was his adoptive father, and he was an endless pain in the ass. He had found Megumi as a child, and taken him in, along with his older sister, Tsumiki. Gojo was wealthy, and Megumi and his sister never had to worry about money, or where they would live. They had everything they could ever need.
But, Megumi was distant. Gojo was too much, too cheerful, and it was a little overwhelming. Megumi hated feeling like a charity case, and he resented the way Gojo would spend money on them without a second thought.
And, of course, the memories of the media circus when Gojo took him in were still fresh in his mind.
The pro skater, the Japanese Tony Hawk, adopting two orphans from the streets. What a scandal.
Megumi hated it. He was constantly the center of attention, people wondering why Gojo had chosen to take them in, speculating on whether or not he was secretly Gojo's biological son, or if he had a tragic backstory. They loved digging into his personal life, and the thought of so many strangers prying into his life made him sick.
Gojo tried his best to shield them from the media, but it was unavoidable. Megumi hated having his privacy violated, and he was tired of having people judge him, assuming he was Gojo's illegitimate child or something. He knew for a fact that he wasn't. He still remembered his deadbeat father, who got himself killed after one too many bar fights.
Megumi had no desire to learn anything more about him, but the rumors that he was Gojo's bastard made him furious.
But then, Gojo retired from professional skateboarding, and Megumi's life finally quieted down.
No one would recognize him on the street. No one would come up to him, or whisper behind his back.
Gojo's decision was a surprise. He was a legend, and his retirement came suddenly, out of the blue. Megumi suspected it had something to do with him and Tsumiki, and Gojo had reassured him that he was doing this because he wanted to, not because of them.
Megumi could never tell if he was lying.
Tsumiki was the sweetest, most generous person he knew. She deserved a life of happiness. Megumi, on the other hand, was just an angsty teen.
Gojo would disagree, claiming that he had the potential to become a world famous skater, and that he was wasting his talents, practicing only at night, and in secluded areas.
Megumi would have agreed if he hadn't witnessed first hand how cruel the public could be. Gojo had managed to survive their scrutiny. But, he had a naturally outgoing, confident personality. He thrived under the spotlight. Megumi did not.
Gojo liked to call him shy. Megumi preferred the term antisocial.
And, it was the reason why the idea of meeting up with Itadori in broad daylight felt so daunting.
Megumi couldn't explain his interest. He'd never been drawn to people. He didn't care to make friends. Itadori was different, though. His personality was so open, welcoming. He was friendly and chatty, but there was an undeniable strength in his eyes, a determination.
He was a bit of an idiot, but that was alright. He was also charming, in a way.
As Megumi approached the skatepark, his eyes immediately landed on the bright pink hair. Itadori was skating around, performing basic tricks. There was a small crowd gathered, and Megumi noticed how everyone's attention was focused on him.
Megumi stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Itadori hadn't spotted him yet. He was busy, skating. He should leave. It was a bad idea.
"Hey, check this out!"
Megumi's breath caught in his throat as Itadori jumped, pulling a 540, landing with ease. That stupid trick, the one he had invented, and named after himself, like an idiot.
He had a grin on his face, his eyes bright. The crowd was cheering, clapping, and Megumi felt an irrational rush of irritation, mixed with something else. Something he didn't want to acknowledge.
Megumi swallowed, looking away, his fists clenched tightly.
He decided to stay in the background, blending in with the crowd, observing Itadori.
Megumi couldn't help noticing how Itadori would smile at every single person he came across, greeting them kindly, as if they were old friends. He would laugh, and joke, and show off.
He was so loud.
Megumi couldn't look away.
After a while, Itadori started showing off, trying more complicated tricks. He would pull most of them, grinning. But, some he would mess up. He would stumble, fall, or land incorrectly. And whenever that happened, he would just laugh, dust himself off, and try again.
Megumi watched, and something inside him began to ache.
Itadori was so talented. He was a natural, his body moving effortlessly. He had a confidence, a self-assuredness, and it was almost intimidating.
Almost.
Megumi had the skills, but he wasn't sure if he had the courage. And yet, watching Itadori, his determination, his easygoing attitude, it was contagious.
He made it look so effortless.
Megumi couldn't take his eyes off him.
But then, for a fleeting second, Itadori looked in his direction. Megumi froze.
It was only for a split second. A heartbeat. Itadori's eyes had flickered over, briefly glancing at him, and then his expression had changed, and he did a double-take, his eyes widening, locking on him.
Shit.
It was like a spell had broken. Suddenly, Megumi was hyperaware of the other people in the park. His skin crawled, the back of his neck burning.
He ducked his head, turning around and hurrying out of there. His heart was pounding, and his cheeks felt hot.
Why was he here? He was an idiot. A fucking idiot.
Itadori wasn't supposed to notice him. He wasn't supposed to know that Megumi was so desperate to see him again that he actually came to the skate park during the day.
And, Megumi's pulse wasn't supposed to speed up when he saw Itadori's gaze lingering on him, his eyes widening in surprise.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
But, it had.
Megumi walked quickly, only pausing to pull his skateboard out from under his arm, and kick it down, jumping on. He needed to get away from there.
He could still feel Itadori's gaze boring into him, and he shuddered.
This wasn't good.
He was starting to like it.
-
As the mature, responsible adult that he was, Megumi decided to deal with his problem by avoiding the situation completely.
It was a solid plan. He couldn't screw it up.
Not going anywhere near the skatepark was the logical thing to do. It was the sensible solution.
He would be safe and sound, and free from any further awkward interactions with the local prodigy, who just so happened to be very friendly, and also very cute. And probably straight. Not that it mattered. Because he was a no-go zone, completely off limits.
And Megumi wasn't interested at all.
But, there was just one tiny, minor flaw in his plan.
A week had passed, and he still couldn't stop thinking about the way Itadori's eyes widened when he spotted him, or the way his expression softened, the corners of his lips turning upward in a gentle smile.
It was driving him insane.
Every time he closed his eyes, the image was burned into his eyelids.
So, it was only natural that he would feel the need to blow off some steam by going for a late night skate.
Besides, the park was always empty at night. Itadori always skated during the day, when people would gather and watch him. So, the chances of running into him were practically zero.
Megumi rolled onto the ramps, practicing a few moves. He wasn't planning on staying long. He just needed to clear his head.
"Fushiguro!"
Megumi stumbled, his eyes widening as he turned around, his heart leaping to his throat.
"Y-you..."
"You're here!"
Itadori grinned, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Itadori," Megumi said, his voice sounding strange in his ears, "What are you doing here?"
"Well," Itadori's expression turned sheepish, and his cheeks flushed slightly, "I was kinda hoping to see you here, actually."
Megumi blinked, his mouth falling open slightly. He wasn't expecting that.
"Uh, really?"
Itadori scratched the back of his head, offering him a lopsided grin, "You didn't come around for the last few days. I was starting to think you'd given up on skating entirely. But, here you are."
Megumi's brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears.
Had Itadori been coming here every night, waiting for him?
"Oh," he said, dumbly.
Itadori cocked his head to the side, a curious look on his face. Megumi couldn't think. His mind was blank.
"I must have made a terrible first impression, huh," Itadori chuckled, "You were pretty pissed that night, and I'm guessing you just want to skate in peace, but here I am, annoying you again."
Megumi didn't know what to say. He could hear the nervous edge to Itadori's words, and his hands were fidgeting slightly.
Was Itadori nervous?
"It's just, I don't usually meet people with the same skill level," Itadori continued, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, "And I don't mean that in a cocky way, or anything. Most of the guys I skate with are talented, sure. But, it's hard to find someone that's actually a challenge, y'know?"
Megumi stared at him. He could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks.
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is," Itadori gave a nervous chuckle, "Do you maybe wanna skate together?"
"No," Megumi replied instantly, his voice sharp.
He regretted it the moment the word left his mouth.
The hurt in Itadori's expression was immediate, his smile falling. He took a step back, his shoulders drooping.
"Oh," Itadori's voice was soft, his tone filled with disappointment, "Right. Sorry."
Fuck.
"Wait, no," Megumi cursed under his breath, reaching out, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just... shit, I'm not good at talking."
"I got that," Itadori laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his neck, "It's alright. You probably have your own schedule and shit. I'll just leave you alone, yeah?"
"I'm sorry," Megumi said, "I just—you're so—dammit."
He wanted to scream. Why was he such an asshole?
"Look, if you want me to fuck off, that's cool. I'm not gonna force myself on you," Itadori sighed, turning away.
Megumi's chest felt like it was going to implode. He grabbed Itadori's arm, stopping him.
"Wait," he said, his voice firm.
"Huh?"
"I guess, if you want, we could—" Megumi hesitated, his eyes darting to the ground.
"Yeah?"
"Skate," he finished lamely.
There was a beat of silence. Megumi was painfully aware of how his fingers were wrapped around Itadori's wrist. He could feel his pulse, thrumming against his fingertips.
He let go.
"Are you sure?"
Megumi shrugged. He wasn't. But, the hopeful glimmer in Itadori's eyes was making it impossible to say no.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Great!" Itadori smiled, his entire face lighting up, and Megumi felt the breath being knocked out of his lungs.
"Alright," he managed to mumble, looking away.
He was screwed.
"Let's see," Itadori said, scratching his head, "How about a little race? We can go around the park twice, and whoever wins gets a prize."
Megumi arched an eyebrow, "What kind of prize?"
"Hmm," Itadori tapped his chin, and Megumi did his best to ignore the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, "Loser buys winner ice cream?"
Megumi snorted. What a kid.
"Alright," he said, smirking, "You're on."