Chapter Text
The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of garlic and butter as Suguru hummed softly while chopping vegetables. He could hear Tsumiki and Yuta discussing their day at school. Tsumiki sat on a stool by the counter, swinging her legs, while Yuta leaned against the fridge. Satoru, dressed casually, lounged in the doorway with his arms crossed and a soft smile on his face.
"And then my homeroom teacher asked if I would like to audition for the school play and I said yes," Tsumiki said, her gentle smile brightening the room.
"That's great, Miki," Satoru replied, ruffling Tsumiki's hair. "I know you'll do well in the auditions."
"Thank you, Satoru-nii," Tsumiki said, her smile widening.
Yuta grinned, a hint of pink on his cheeks. "And I got picked to lead the morning assembly next week! I'm kind of nervous, but I think I can do it."
"You'll do amazing, Yuta-kun," Suguru reassured him, his voice warm as he stirred the pot on the stove.
"My kids are growing up so fast," Satoru said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "What's next? Are you two going to move out and leave us behind?"
Tsumiki groaned, her face scrunching up in embarrassment, while Yuta burst out laughing.
"But you know who wouldn’t leave us? My little sea urchin," Satoru said, grinning.
"Okay, speaking of him, Yuta-kun, is he still doing his homework?" Suguru asked, glancing at Yuta.
"Um, maybe?" Yuta replied, looking at the closed door of his and Megumi's shared room.
“Don’t tell me his teachers are giving him extra homework this year, too?” Satoru said, directing his gaze at Suguru, who let out a deep sigh.
“Suguru-nii, why don’t you ask his teacher not to give him extra homework? At this point, everyone in the school knows Megumi is a genius, but all this extra homework is wearing him out,” Tsumiki said, a look of concern on her face.
“I did talk to his homeroom teacher, Tsumiki-chan. She mentioned that Megumi himself requested the extra homework because he enjoys it. If he finds out that I asked his teacher to stop giving him extra homework behind his back, he will be very upset,” Suguru replied while taking out his apron.
"Then we should talk to Megumi about this," Yuta suggested. "He hasn't even been playing these days because of his homework."
"Yeah, we should sit him down and have a conversation with him," Tsumiki agreed, nodding.
"Well, in my opinion, we should give him some space," Satoru interjected, adjusting his glasses. "Asking him directly could intimidate him. Even though he sometimes acts like a sixty-year-old man, Gumi is still just a kid, so let’s not scare him."
“Satoru is right. We'll figure out a way to reach him without cornering him. Maybe a gentle conversation or giving him a chance to open up on his own terms,” Suguru said calmly.
Both Yuta and Tsumiki nodded, their concern for Megumi still evident.
“Okay, let’s give him a little time. If he doesn’t come out by dinner, I’ll go talk to him. In the meantime, why don’t you two set the table? Remember to grab the plates, chopsticks, and napkins,” Satoru instructed.
“Okay,” Tsumiki and Yuta replied in unison as they hopped off the stool together.
Suguru watched them bustle around the kitchen with a fond smile, then glanced over at Satoru. Their eyes met in mutual understanding; they both sensed something was troubling Megumi.
As the rich aroma of simmering stew filled the kitchen, Yuta and Tsumiki effortlessly set the table, arranging plates and chopsticks with little flourishes that made Suguru chuckle. Satoru retrieved the pitcher of cold barley tea from the fridge and placed it on the table with a satisfied nod.
“Should we call Megumi now?” Tsumiki asked, finally setting down her spoon. “He must be hungry.”
Suguru nodded and raised his voice slightly. “Megumi-kun, dinner time!”
For a moment, there was only silence.
Yuta and Tsumiki exchanged glances before calling out together, “Gumi, come eat with us!”
Silence once again
“Alright then, I’ll go get him” Satoru muttered, pushing himself off the counter. “He’s probably turned into a fossil in there.”
He sauntered down the hallway and knocked lightly on Megumi’s door. “Oi, sea urchin,” he called, his tone light but his brow furrowed. “Dinner’s ready. Don’t make me bust this door down like a superhero.”
Silence.
Satoru’s playful smile faded. He cracked the door open and peeked inside. Megumi sat at his desk, his head bowed over his notebook, a pencil still in his hand but unmoving. His hair fell into his eyes, obscuring his expression.
“Megumi?” Satoru said softly, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.
Satoru knelt beside the chair and gently placed a hand on Megumi’s back.
Megumi stirred, blinking blearily. “Oh? Satoru?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.
“You’ve been working so hard,” Suguru said, brushing a lock of hair from Megumi’s forehead.
“Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” Megumi replied, looking around his table.
“It’s okay. Come eat with us. You need a break.”
Megumi hesitated, his eyes darting to the pile of homework. “But I still haven’t—”
“Megumi,” Satoru interrupted gently, his tone firm yet kind. “Dinner first. Everything else can wait.”
For a moment, it seemed like Megumi might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. “Okay,” he whispered.
The dining table was already set when Satoru and Megumi emerged from the hallway. Tsumiki and Yuta were giggling about something at the table, and Suguru was just placing the last dish on the table.
“There you two are,” Suguru said with a soft smile, his eyes flicking between Megumi and Satoru. “Sit down, dinner’s getting cold.”
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Gumi,” Yuta teased, earning a small huff from Megumi as he took his seat.
Tsumiki scooted her chair closer to Megumi’s. “You look tired. Are you okay?” she asked, eyes filled with concern.
“I’m fine,” Megumi mumbled, avoiding her gaze as he reached for the rice bowl.
Satoru ruffled Megumi’s hair before sitting down at the head of the table. “Let’s eat, everyone,” he said, clapping his hands together in thanks.
“Wow, this is amazing, Suguru-nii!” Yuta exclaimed through a mouthful of tofu.
“Careful, Yuta-kun, don’t choke,” Suguru scolded lightly, though a smile tugged at his lips.
Satoru leaned back in his chair, watching the kids with a fond expression. “Our family dinners are the best, huh?” he said, his voice soft with quiet pride.
For a moment, Megumi felt a flicker of peace settle in his chest, even as a small part of him still wrestled with an invisible weight.
After dinner, the Gojo house settled into a comforting hush. The dishes were washed, the lights dimmed, and a faint scent of soap lingered in the air. Yuta sat cross-legged on his bed, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube, while Megumi perched on the edge of his bunk, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Megumi?” Yuta’s gentle and sleepy voice drifted down.
Megumi hesitated before replying softly, “Yeah.”
“You okay? You’ve been quiet lately.” Yuta asked softly
Megumi tightened his grip on his knees. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on a small crack in the ceiling. He hated how unsure his voice sounded.
Yuta set the Rubik’s cube aside and climbed down from his bed, the mattress creaking softly. He sat beside Megumi, their shoulders nearly touching. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Yuta said, his voice low and kind. “Even if it’s something silly or small.”
Megumi’s hands curled around his knees, and the silence stretched between them like a thin thread. He wanted to tell Yuta everything, the heavy feeling in his chest and how the days seemed harder lately, but the words stuck in his throat, thick and unspoken.
“I know,” he finally whispered back, his voice so quiet it almost vanished in the hush of the room.
Yuta offered a gentle smile, his eyes soft with understanding. He didn’t push. Instead, he just stayed there, their shoulders touching, letting Megumi know he wasn’t alone.
“Okay then, let’s sleep because we have school tomorrow. Good night, Gumi.”
“Good night, Yuta,” he replied softly before settling back onto his pillow.
The room fell quiet again, but Megumi’s thoughts swirled restlessly. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that sleep would come quickly, even as a knot of worry sat stubbornly in his chest.