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Plastic bag in hand, Gojo checked his phone for the hundredth time as he walked briskly towards Megumi's school. He was supposed to be there ten minutes ago to pick the kid up, but—in typical Gojo fashion—he was running late thanks to some idiots holding up the line at the grocery store. Knowing how stubborn Megumi could be, Gojo had hoped for a miracle text asking when he'd get there. At least then he could relax knowing the kid was waiting for him, as opposed to walking home on his own.
It had only been a year since Gojo tracked down Megumi—saving him and his sister from falling into the clutches of the Zenin Clan—yet Gojo had grown attached to the Fushiguro siblings at a scarily fast pace. What began as checking in once, maybe twice, a day quickly turned into Gojo spending all his free time at that old, rundown apartment Toji used to house his kids.
Tsumiki had welcomed Gojo with open arms—the girl always so optimistic despite her situation—while stubborn-ass Megumi continued to treat him like an intruder. Even so, Gojo did his best to give those kids a decent life. The fridge was never empty, all the bills were paid on time, and broken furniture was promptly replaced. He bought them all new clothes and school supplies to ensure they did their best. Whatever those kids needed, Gojo made sure they got it.
On the weekends, Gojo would order out and force them to watch some of his favorite movies. Well, the child-friendly ones, anyway. Megumi always complained, criticizing whatever movie Gojo picked for the night. Despite the boy's cold attitude and never-ending sass, Gojo never took any of it to heart.
Those kids had been alone for some time, never having an adult they could rely on to care for them, to keep them safe…to not abandon them. Gojo technically was an intruder in their lives, a stranger with no real connection to them. It made sense that Megumi would be distrustful and unwilling to let him in so easily. Watching how Megumi interacted with Tsumiki, Gojo could tell the kid had a kind heart buried underneath years of neglect and resentment. It required a lot of patience, something Gojo wasn't exactly good at, but he was certain he'd eventually dig out that heart of gold.
A shrill sound cut through Gojo's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Lifting his phone, Gojo froze upon seeing Megumi's name flashing on the screen. A heavy weight settled in his chest as he scrambled to hit the accept-call button. Getting the kid to reply to his texts and calls was practically impossible, Gojo having no choice but to settle with the small notification telling him his texts had been read. Megumi reaching out to Gojo on his own was unheard of.
Megumi never called.
Hitting the button, Gojo brought the phone to his ear as his mind ran through a million different scenarios. Was Megumi lying broken and bleeding on the street after having been run over by a car as he attempted to walk home by himself? Or perhaps a cursed spirit sensed the kid's cursed energy and attacked him. Gojo had only recently begun training Megumi to use ten shadows and summon shikigami; training which was nowhere near ready for the kid to defend himself against any threats.
Bracing for the worst, Gojo wasn't prepared for the first sound he heard to be that of a strange man talking.
"—on kid, don't make this harder than it needs to be."
"I said, leave me alone!" Megumi yelled.
"Hand over the phone, you little brat!"
"No!"
"Megumi?" Gojo asked, his tone urgent as he broke into a run. A tangle of knots was forming in the pit of his stomach. He was only a couple minutes away from the school. "Kid, talk to me! Where are you?!"
There was screaming and cursing as Gojo sprinted through crowds of people, shoving them aside and knocking some down in his panic. He paid them no mind as he silently begged whatever higher being existed that Megumi would be all right. Gojo promised to look after him, to keep Megumi safe. If anything were to happen to that kid, Gojo could never forgive himself.
"Just grab him—get the hell out of here!" A second voice piped up, causing Gojo's blood to run cold. Grab him?
"Get away! Let go of me!"
Gojo heard a scuffle on the other end of the line before a loud crack caused him to wince as the sound rang in his ear. Before he could get a word out, a single heart-stopping cry caused him to falter and nearly trip over his own feet.
"Gojo!"
The call abruptly ended. Red crept into Gojo's vision as Megumi's cry played on repeat in his head. Megumi, who refused to cry when he got hurt; who sat unblinking and unbothered when Gojo played even the most terrifying of horror movies. To hear that kid's voice filled with so much fear left Gojo reeling. Whoever thought it a good idea to lay their hands on his kid…Gojo would make them regret their entire existence.
- - -
Megumi put up one hell of a fight. He kicked, screamed, and bit down on the hand that gripped his wrist with enough force to leave a bruise. The man dragging him toward the strange car—where another man was rushing him along—cursed as Megumi managed to kick him hard in the shin. The man's hold slackened for a split second and Megumi used it to his advantage, ripping his arm free.
What little hope he felt was quickly diminished as the man grabbed a fistful of his shirt, his knuckles turning white with anger. Megumi's eyes widened as the man raised his other fist back.
"Maybe this will teach you a lesson, you little shi—"
In the blink of an eye, the man's arm was wrenched back and down at a sickening angle. The resounding crack and scream that followed filled the nearly empty street. Megumi stumbled back as the man let go of him to hold his twisted arm. The next moment, the man's limp body hit the pavement, a pained groan the only indication he was still alive.
Where he once stood was Gojo, those bright blue eyes usually full of kindness and mischief darkened with anger; the likes of which Megumi had never seen before. Megumi had heard the saying 'if looks could kill' before, and looking up into those cold, fury-filled eyes, Megumi couldn't help but wither under such an intense glare.
"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?!"
Gojo's head tilted ever slightly as he glanced in the direction of the second man, who'd gotten out of the car to confront him. Looking back at Megumi, Gojo smiled down at him, the sight unnerving. It was too soft, a harsh contrast to the rage still burning in his eyes.
"Give me one second, 'Gumi."
Nodding numbly, Megumi watched as Gojo disappeared. No, not disappeared. Gojo moved behind the man faster than the human eye could see. Before the man could register that Gojo was no longer in front of him, he was grabbed by the scruff of his shirt and flipped onto the hood of his car. The impact knocked the man out cold, smoke drifting from under the crumpled-up hood.
"Maybe this will teach you two to stay the hell away from children," Gojo muttered darkly before turning toward Megumi.
Averting his gaze, Megumi looked down at his feet as he nervously gripped the straps of his backpack. With those two creeps taken care of, Megumi anticipated Gojo turning his full attention—and anger—on him. After all, Gojo had told him how many times to wait for him at the front of the school, that it was too dangerous to walk home alone. The man was no doubt furious with him for defying his orders and making him come clean up his mess.
Would Gojo want to keep taking care of him and his sister after this? Megumi could live with the disappointment if he left—everyone eventually left him—but the guilt of having driven him away from Tsumiki would eat him alive. Tsumiki loved Gojo and was so much happier with him around.
Why did Megumi have to go and screw that up, all because he was too damned stubborn and refused to listen. Tears threatened to spill and Megumi fought to keep them in check. He couldn't cry, he didn't deserve to cry. This was all his fault.
"Megumi—" Gojo crouched down in front of him. "—look at me."
Gripping the straps tighter, Megumi looked up to meet Gojo's eyes. All that anger had vanished, replaced with the man's usual brightness. Megumi didn't know how else to describe it. When Gojo was hanging around them, his eyes seemed to sparkle like the stars at night, especially when Tsumiki would hug him. Those sparkles practically danced with excitement.
"There you are, kid," Gojo smiled warmly at him, his voice devoid of its usual dramatic giddiness, instead taking on a softer tone. "Are you okay, Megumi? They didn't hurt you, did they?"
Not trusting his voice, Megumi shook his head. His wrist and arm were a little sore from how hard that man had grabbed and pulled him, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. As if reading his mind, Gojo's eyes shot down to his wrist, taking in the damage. By now, his wrist was likely starting to bruise.
"We can pick up some cream on the way back home. That'll help with the pain. Oh, and how about we pick up some ice cream as well? You can pick whatever flavor you like!"
Megumi desperately blinked back more tears as he worked up the courage to speak. "You're not…you're not mad?"
"Of course I am," Gojo said without hesitation, causing Megumi's breath to stutter before he continued. "I'm mad at those two scumbags for laying their hands on you, but—most importantly—I'm mad at myself for letting this happen. As your guardian, it's my job to keep you safe. So, from now on, I'm gonna be on time to pick you up. No, scratch that, I'm gonna be early! The first parent there! How does that sound?"
The first parent there. Megumi knew that meant putting up with more stares and whispers from the other parents. He always hated it, but Gojo never paid them any mind. He probably didn't even notice. Gojo's attention was always on Megumi, greeting him with that stupid grin of his and messing up his hair despite Megumi's protests. The first parent there.
"Whoa, hey, Megumi, what's wrong?"
Megumi didn't even realize he was crying until Gojo reached up and wiped away some stray tears, causing more to fall. If this was any other ordinary day, Megumi would have made some snarky comment about how stupid Gojo looked all panicked. He was supposed to be the adult, after all. Instead, Megumi allowed himself to act his age for once in his life.
Falling forward, Megumi gripped Gojo's shirt tightly and buried his face in the man's chest as he cried. Years of pent-up frustration, anger, and sadness spilled out in wet sobs and hiccups as Megumi held on for dear life to the only person he ever allowed to see him like this. Gojo held him securely against his chest, carding his fingers through Megumi's hair as he promised he was safe, that Gojo wouldn't let anything happen to him.
Megumi believed him.