Chapter Text
Six days after their talk, meaning more than a week has passed since the first years’ mission, Yuuji wakes up to multiple notifications on his phone. All most likely from the higher-ups, the only ones that would dare disturb him and Megumi this early on a Sunday.
He has asked himself in the past why he still hasn’t blocked their contact yet. Sure, Yuuji will admit that the old man from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech, whom Satoru left alive for some reason, was doing his best not to overwork sorcerers, but, inevitably, there were mandatory meetings asking for either his or Megumi’s attendance at least twice a month.
Those duties all lasted from three to six excruciating hours, speaking only about random missing cursed objects around the world, or how cursed energy has been waving in sorcerers and non-sorcerers… Things Yuuji supposes are important but simply can’t grab his attention.
Who currently has Yuuji’s attention is the man completely buried in his arms, Megumi. He’s sound asleep while the other takes in his morning features: how his hair presses flat against the head, missing that usual messy charm he works hard to maintain, and how his eyebrows are barely arched, for once free of any frustration generally stored in there— it’s all a sight nobody has ever seen, except for Nobara, back when they’d have sleepovers in their high school years, but Yuuji is sure she doesn’t remember it as well as he does.
Yuuji’s obviously used to it. Every morning he wakes up first, looks at Megumi, and remains captured in him like a moth does with the sacred light. What shines brighter in that sun, are the lips Yuuji knows are still soft and sweet with their owner’s vanilla chapstick… It was a stupid gift from long ago that Yuuji got for Megumi, when his lips kept chapping whenever there was a little breeze over them.
Then, once Megumi finished it, he said it was a coincidence that he bought the same brand, that it was nothing too expensive and it thankfully didn’t ruin his casual-and-natural look. Thinking about it, Yuuji should’ve gotten pissed that Megumi claimed not to care, but he laughed, seeing through his lies and deciding not to call him out yet.
Instead of teasing him further, Yuuji will gladly be the one to admit something, like how he loves how sweet Megumi tastes whenever they kiss, and how faint traces of vanilla stick to his own lips after: it’s a tiny reminder of their love, Yuuji believes, just in case everything else suddenly disappears.
Truthfully, he can’t have enough of it, especially in mornings like these, where that sweetness persists from the last time Megumi applied it, and now persists just a couple centimeters, maybe millimeters, away from him. But, although waking Megumi up by burying him in kisses seems like a lovely way to start their day, the fact that their alarms haven’t gone off yet suggests it’s either too early or they missed it altogether.
So what Yuuji does while waiting to fall asleep back again— hopefully with no other message from the higher-ups, he should add— is gaze at the man he’s been sharing his life with.
Under that darkness, softly faded by the sun’s few rays of light filtering through the curtains, he leans close enough to identify Megumi’s figure: his features are barely visible, but unmistakable with anything else.
Other than what he sees, Yuuji also takes in how Megumi feels completely relaxed, nestled in Yuuji’s warmth while unconsciously suffocating his right arm. It’s fine, Yuuji will happily add an arm to the things this guy has stolen from him
Old hoodies he forgot owning, sips from drinks Megumi tries just to confirm if he still hates them —though each time he takes a sip he suddenly remembers why he hates them—, and, accidentally, a few fingers from his left hand some years ago.
But, the most important thing Megumi ever stole remains Yuuji’s—
His phone pings again. And Yuuji maybe wished that Megumi stole that off from him a couple of days before, just so nobody could text them at… Whatever the hour is.
And only to be clear, Yuuji would love to groan, loudly cursing whoever is disturbing the spectacular sight his boyfriend can be while sleeping like a baby, but then he’d be contributing to ruining the moment.
He’s careful not to disturb Megumi with his movements, gently removing his own hand from the latter’s hair, messily reaching for wherever he left his own phone on the nightstand beside. Once Yuuji finds it, he discovers it’s 7.43, which is not too early nor late, and as a positive spin to this situation they would’ve woken up soon enough anyway.
Swiping right on the screen, he reads the one-sided chat with the higher-ups and inhales sharply because fuck, he’s blocking them now. Now’s the moment, he’s sure of it, even if they’ll somehow be still able to contact him in some other fucked up way, like sending curses down to his doorstep with ancient scrolls, the writing obviously coming from someone’s blood.
With the easy touch of a button, Yuuji could get them away from him, particularly from Megumi, who has now woken up with how tense the body he’s practically sleeping on got.
Megumi’s long eyelashes softly tickle the other’s arm, a yawn arrives next, all somehow reminding Yuuji of a kitten; he’ll never tell Megumi that again though, because the asshole will then sleep like an angry kitten facing the wall, and it’s all too painfully precious for Yuuji’s heart.
“What’s wrong?” Megumi still sounds asleep, but awake enough to notice when his human-pillow suddenly doesn’t feel okay.
Yuuji, in the meanwhile, reacts to the text with a thumbs-up emoji, figuring he’ll deal with them later because, right now, he only wants to deal with his tired boyfriend a bit longer.
As of standard practice of their morning routine, he lands a kiss on his head, lovingly flattening his hair more. “Don’t worry, it’s just a mission,” His phone is then sent flying somewhere across their bedroom, not caring much of its already partially-shattered screen since he could always replace it… It would be more like a hassle, moving all the data to another phone, and frankly Yuuji thinks that having it half-malfunctioning also helps as a reminder to never leave his phone unattended where his students could play pranks on him—
He pauses, connecting the dots that suddenly make sense in his mind.
Higher-ups. Mission. Students.
This is exactly why Megumi tells him to keep an agenda, it must be, he thinks. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have forgotten how three of his students are missing a very-much-needed experience for this cursed job they’re preparing for.
Yuuji inhales a little deeper again, mixing whatever air came from the windows with the sheets’ laundry detergent and the faint traces of their own perfumes stuck in them, all in an attempt to calm himself from his own job; no word-play happening in his mind this time, thank god.
“Now you really worry me.” Megumi mutters in Yuuji’s arm, eyes half-lidded like he’s about to shut them again.
His head turns around to face Yuuji, mostly to check if the latter will lie. “What’s up?” His voice is slightly more coherent now that it isn’t muffled.
Yuuji sighs, his arms embracing Megumi closer, “It’s a little early to worry, you should get back to sleep, Megs.” He murmurs, landing another kiss to his forehead as an apology for waking him up like this on their free day— or Megumi’s free day, since Yuuji is now scheduled for a mission.
And Megumi’s brain awakens at that, giving Yuuji one of his glares, extremely similar to the type he gives his students when extremely pissed at their stupidity… Maybe the one he’s holding now is even harsher.
Yuuji gulps, and after a moment finally admits, “I forgot I, uh, still need to take those three for a mission.”
Even for a half-asleep Megumi it is not hard to understand who those three are— Yuuji actually should possibly be offended at how painfully annoyed his glare has gotten with only twelve words pronounced in less than six seconds.
Megumi asked, and now, he’s pissed at the answer.
Groaning, he shifts so he's not facing Yuuji anymore, but rather buries his face again into Yuuji’s arm, a perfect fit for his cheeks from how often he sleeps there. There’s no name written on it—although Yuuji half-jokingly and half-seriously proposed tattooing it, only to then get kicked from the bed to the floor— but they both silently acknowledge it’s Megumi’s place.
“That’s how you’re gonna react, you big baby?” Yuuji teases, holding back a chuckle while feeling Megumi’s adorable pout on his own skin… He has been found guilty of whatever charges were pending by the judge in Yuuji's mind, and the appropriate punishment applied and to be immediately executed on Megumi should be a kisses shower from his boyfriend, of course.
Leaning closer to his hair, Yuuji’s lips gently pressed in the center of his nape, the fresh smell of Megumi’s shampoo washing over him. “And here–” a kiss, “I thought—” another kiss, “you—” just one more kiss, “were—” two kisses now, he’s drowning in the softness of the other’s hair, “— worried.”
The moment Yuuji feels Megumi groaning into his skin, he stops, while the other finally turns around with a faint blush he’ll never own up if Yuuji mentions it.
“I am very worried actually,” Megumi blows air into Yuuji’s face, instinctively scrunching his eyes. “With how you still haven’t forgotten how to breathe, think, live, and everything else.” His eyes roll as Yuuji cracks a laugh at his harsh words, leaning closer to steal another kiss from him, for the first time today on his lips.
It turns out Yuuji was right. Vanilla, it’s all his mind says, treasuring the sweetness of it.
Before they could officially part their lips, Yuuji felt the ghost of Megumi’s smile appearing to haunt him. Once Megumi was free, he sighs, “Idiot.” Because of course that’s all he thinks of Yuuji.
“Good morning to you too, ‘Gumi,” Yuuji stretches his shoulders with a giggle, shifting to a more comfortable position while still holding the other. “Isn’t it a little early to scold me?” His legs tangle with Megumi’s, finding their rightful spot, just like Megumi’s cheeks have always done with Yuuji’s arm.
Megumi accepts Yuuji’s legs, his sweatpants clashing on the other’s skin since Yuuji refuses to wear anything other than shorts to bed. “If your head actually functioned before sunset, I’d say yes,” Megumi sighs, rolling his eyes. “But tragically, we’re both stuck with this.” And he stares at Yuuji’s face, not actually pointing to anything.
As a response, Yuuji pouts, “Aww,” he’s obviously exaggerating, only to poke through Megumi’s lying heart. “I thought you liked this.”
“Quit acting stupid,” Megumi countered, face twisted and nose scrunched half-way up. He’s hopelessly defending himself, and it’s obvious he’s failing from how his own body betrays him: his legs tugging closer to Yuuji’s. “Your brain is—”
“ —rotting.” Their voices overlap perfectly, because “You always tell me that.” And when has Megumi ever lied to him?
He reminded Yuuji so when he bought poisonous mushrooms for a ‘tasty-and-new’ recipe, or when he was about to make Nobara time how much it would take to regrow a bone broken with a hammer using reverse cursed technique, and Megumi even took extra care reminding Yuuji a notable amount of three times when the latter kept giggling while holding they held hands for the first time.
So, Megumi is not exaggerating whenever he says that. There’s always a good reason with the idiot whose last functioning neurons have already escaped from his ears... who now is frowning for the sole reason of riling Megumi up, cheeks puffed and all.
“And here I was,” Yuuji sniffs, interrupting Megumi’s reasons on why he should actually take him out from his emergency contacts lists. “Thinking you’d give me a break right after I get scheduled for a mission.”
His voice has become so good at acting that Megumi would’ve actually believed him, replying that he doesn’t mean all that he says. But once the bastard starts laughing, Megumi’s heart feels at ease, that sound reminding him he hasn’t fucked up anything yet.
Instead of voicing his relief, Megumi groans annoyed. “Don’t remind me of work while we’re in bed,” He stretches, scrunching his whole face like a kitten would— Yuuji keeps silent, remembering just how hard the floor can feel in an instant.
After a brief pause, Megumi speaks again, a little quieter, “You seriously accepted?” He mutters, “It’s your day off.” He says it like a reminder, as if Yuuji didn’t know that.
What Megumi actually means is how it’s their day off. The only day in which there are no students to disturb their privacy, and nothing too sorcery-related crashes in their lives, other than Yuuji asking to summon Kuro—his divine dog, because Yuuji obviously thought that giving a shadow a name would be normal— when they’re out for a stroll in the wild.
The day when there are no distractions from the other, Megumi’s face says, and Yuuji feels these words piercing right through his heart with this.
“I was one of their last options,” Yuuji softens his voice as his left-hand journeys to hold Megumi’s cheek, “The other would’ve been you, you know.” Of course Megumi does, and to that, he clenches his teeth on that same cheek, the sensation felt from the outside too.
“...I wouldn’t have minded that.” Megumi had to hope Yuuji didn’t want to act as his savior once again, but the truth has always laid tangled, either in front, next or right with him, “You can’t just handle everything so I don’t have to.” Megumi lets his legs wrap around Yuuji’s tighter, subconsciously stating he still wants him close, even when his words let him believe the opposite.
Perhaps right now Yuuji’s pout is more authentic than all the others; it’s sweet that he argues for this, but risky, for both of their mental health. Megumi has heard the stories of sorcerers going crazy— actually, crazier than they all can be after willingly doing this job— but to see one right in front of him? To be exact, his loved one, going nuts while trying to shield him from dangers?
You’d have to be just as crazy to think Megumi would allow that. He opens his mouth again, “Listen—”
“Let’s go together.” Yuuji interrupts him, pout replaced with a grin full of confidence, one that says he knows what he’s doing, one that Megumi should trust more.
But, in fact, Megumi still can’t. “Eh?” Is what he replies, eyebrows tightened together.
“We’ll go together and make those three retake their test,” His thumb caresses one of Megumi’s faint moles nobody has ever pointed out, except for him. “What do you say,” That’s one of his distinctive traits, Yuuji thinks, because, without, he wouldn’t be the same.
It’s like a sky without the sun, or a moon without the stars, a forest without the trees— “Hostages together?” His heart without Megumi’s.
“Not a chance.”
Megumi clicks his tongue, “Go handle your students and leave me here, lying with my soft pillows.” And his eyes shut, blocking the view of an open-mouthed Yuuji gazing at him with so much confusion.
Before Megumi can argue on how his morning breath stinks, Yuuji shuts his mouth, lips pressed tightly until he groans, “Come on, Megumi…” He pokes at his cheeks, searching for the baby fat hiding in them. “I’ll make you dinner after the mission! Anything you want.”
Ginger meatballs are what Megumi's mind has quietly settled on before even having breakfast, though the day seems to be good for something fish-based. “You always do that.”
“Yeah, but you won’t lift a finger.”
“You don’t let me anyway,” Probably because the kitchen will catch on fire if Yuuji does, and it’s an incident they’re trying not to recreate this year. “...What exactly changes from the other times?”
Megumi opens his eyes, seeing how Yuuji was already staring back, waiting for him.
“You make this too hard,” Or maybe Yuuji’s constant love makes it harder, but Megumi doesn’t voice the thought. Then, Yuuji’s mouth opens surprisingly, an idea emerges, “What if I quit giving you massages before bed?”
Megumi lets out a snort, “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Yuuji corrected, untangling his legs and rolling to his other side, dismissing his lover in the cruelest way he knows. “Actually, don’t ever expect that from me now on.” Now that he isn’t facing Megumi, he can act cold without getting distracted by his beauty.
“We both know you—” Megumi shuts up, deciding to play along instead of headbutting some sense into the other. His arms come to embrace Yuuji’s from behind, one of the few times he’s actually the one spooning that big head’s big shoulders, “And what about my back pain, doctor Yuuji?”
He purred with a soft tone, to which Yuuji knows Megumi is also fluttering his eyelashes— maybe he should’ve avoided speaking of the upcoming season of Doctor House, but it’s too late for that. The only thing he can do is force himself not to look back, he’s strong enough to resist. He has to resist.
While reminding himself how he’ll have to shave off all of Megumi’s eyelashes one of these days, all too dangerous and corrupting when that bastard needs something, Yuuji utters something out, “Not my fault, patient Megumi.” It isn’t, but Yuuji feels like it almost is.
Megumi’s hands cradle his face, holding both of Yuuji’s lying cheeks, squishing them just because he can, and also because Yuuji looks dumbly cute like this, more than usual. All that gets in Yuuji’s mind is that whatever hand cream is in their house must get thrown away because how can his hands be so soft? It has to be illegal.
A subtle note of seriousness is added to Yuuji’s mind, a quiet realization surfacing, “But you should really ask Ieiri-san to visit you.” He reminds, still looking too stupid to get taken seriously, “It’s been weeks, and I’m getting concerned it will worsen—”
“Yuuji.” Megumi sighs. His hands get a little firm on the other’s cheeks to stop his blabbering. He turns Yuuji around, though still handling his face with care, as if he’s ready to break because of Megumi.
Finally, Megumi faces a man that still behaves like the kid he met all those years ago, too stubborn to mind his own business. “Will you stop worrying if I tell you I’ll come with you today?” Of course not, Megumi answers himself, but still wants to hear Yuuji out, in the possibility the latter will surprise him.
“That’s a great question,” Yuuji began, struggling to get his words out as Megumi squeezed his cheeks even more, a habit that would’ve hurt if only Yuuji didn’t adore his lover’s hands. “And the answer is, maybe.” That’s a lie. The answer is 100% negative, impossible, not even if Yuuji got offered a million yen prize that same day.
“Just know,” Yuuji speaks again. “This won’t work forever.” Another lie, a sweeter one though. He gently shifts to face Megumi better, all while still somewhat cramped—in a good way— in his arms.
Megumi places one last kiss to his nose, now feeling Yuuji’s hands delicately hold him back. “I know.”
“I don’t know if this is exactly the right road, Yuuji.”
There aren’t many things Megumi feels unsure of, but this village reeks of mistakes in every misplaced weed fighting through the stone of the cold pavement, part of which is getting crushed by the shoes of a group of five people… Seems like a long time has passed here.
“Neither do I.” Yuuji replies, glancing around to feel that sudden burst of cursed energy and scanning whatever story was not entirely told in here, although he still doesn’t feel anything there. “But since when did a little bit of exploration creep us out?”
Rolling his eyes, Megumi scoffs and gets back to his tablet, the higher-ups notes staring back. Never and always, he’d reply, but he won’t tease further, knowing how he’ll accidentally rope himself in telling another one of their unlucky adventures to Yuuji’s students.
Furthermore, maybe, he’s also refraining from possibly scaring to death one of those kids. “You three hanging okay back there?” Megumi asks, though his eyes only flicker to Sone, who’s as pale as the bunnies buried in his shadow.
“Uh,” Sone gulps once he senses someone’s eyes on him, and he just has to thank whatever has created him that it’s Megumi, not some other weird entity. His shoulders relax, “It’s kind of creeping me out.” That’s something most prefer not to hear from a sorcerer.
Sone has been trying to keep his cool for the past month, focusing on just doing the hard work and then getting back to his dorm, possibly without having Koide pester him excessively— he doesn’t voice this thought, especially when she’s giggling right beside.
All Megumi does in answer is hum as he nods, mentally noting it down and returning to reading their mission’s details for the umpteenth time.
“Come on, Sone,” Koide’s arm comes hanging around his shoulders as they walk behind their teachers and Hatakeyama, “Don’t piss your pants yet.” She teases, her grin as bright as the sun.
Before Sone can reiterate how disgusting she can be and how he obviously won’t, she gasps, “I think there’s a curse coming to haunt you from that house! Watch out!” And Koide shakes the other in random directions so violently that they almost trip to the ground.
Once Sone gets her hands away from himself and she stops laughing, he dusts off his clothes, as if she carried germs with her— which, fairly, might be true. Considering how her burnt gloves seemed ready to fall apart at their first wash, it’s plainly disgusting, he thinks, especially when she tosses them on the ground. Ugh, he’ll puke soon enough.
“ Really mature, Chi-chan.” Sone rolls his eyes to the ground and marches back to the group, right beside Hatakeyama, who's been busy ignoring their antics these past days. Frankly, Koide has tried interacting with her, finding any mutual interests that could’ve sparked a new long-lasting friendship, but it’s impossible with someone as conceited as her.
Koide rapidly adds herself to them, afraid to be left behind, this time more literally than figuratively, which is new. She grumbles, “I’m just messing with you.” A pout forms on her face, brows furrowing more than usual.
Whatever, she thinks, because she doesn’t need Hatakeyama as a friend, especially for a mission. That’s just her teacher’s dumb way of thinking, any potential ally matters and is valuable, but this is complete bullshit; when Koide looks at Hatakeyama, she fills with enough rage that she has the impulse to blow the stupid hotness of her own face out— it’s her stupid technique getting hijacked by her emotions, obviously.
Otherwise, Koide would never get the need to make her own cursed energy explode every time she glances at Hatakeyama... Which is easy, intuitive, maybe takes a little too long, but she’ll work on it, and Yuuji also promised to help her before tougher missions. Idiot–sensei may be too optimistic, stupid, too in love with emotionally-constipated–sensei, but he’s strong, perhaps even the strongest, and undoubtedly a man of his word.
Today’s mission is set in a village close to the shore in Kanazawa, about two hours and 450 kilometers away from Tokyo Jujutsu Tech by train. Inside the village walls are about forty traditional-looking houses, some built outside right in the fields, but none of them got spared from the absurd vegetation growing all over.
Some vines wrap around the moss, spreading it further than how it should logically do, creating so many different textures it gets almost hard to believe it was a work started in the 1963s, when all inhabitants of those same houses disappeared— if the notes Megumi was reading were right.
Megumi rightfully wonders shouldn’t all these foliages grow more these past years? It’s not like a gardener came in here just to trim everything around, because otherwise they would’ve done a pretty bad job, seeing how asymmetrical everything looks… How come there are spots that are either empty or filled with bushes all crowding together? It makes no sense to him.
“You okay there?”
Yuuji leans over to Megumi, squinting his eyes at the notes the latter is examining, figuring that those could be the problem. “Damn, they really got cryptic with this one,” He mutters, moving his gaze to the man holding them. It’s also not too hard to understand who they are.
“Need me to take over those?” It’s a polite offer, one of the many Yuuji is happy providing for Megumi… But he should probably get back to whatever he and his students were chatting about, something-something that didn’t really grab Megumi’s attention completely.
Perhaps the topic was the latest movie Yuuji got Megumi to watch with him—it should be specified that Megumi was pressured to view the remake of Human Earthworm, and he only said yes because he knew he’d have to comfort that grown man afterward— or how they could've gone for an excursion with the whole class…
In any case, Megumi shakes his head, not knowing what to add to the conversation anyway. Yuuji doesn’t pry further, but remains attentive to the other nonetheless. It’s not like Megumi could ask him to stop this behavior, so he simply gets back to his notes and his thinking, because there’s still something in here he can’t explain yet.
In all those beach waves meeting the sand, in the distant fields able to meet up and clash with the sky, everything yells for his attention… He’s humanizing things again, Megumi realizes, just like Yuuji has always done. A clear example would be the ‘terrified family of vines’ the latter spotted close to one of the village main exits, which was only a group of plants climbing outside.
Megumi exhaled through his nose, focusing on those notes, still too incomprehensible anyway, but a decent distraction from the village condition, while the students seemed to be focused solely on that.
“Hey,” Sone calls, nudging Koide on the sleeve, making it clear he’s talking to her even if they were already speaking— he just wanted to annoy her. Figures. “Why do you think it’s empty?”
Koide stares vacantly at the sky, as if her answer was written somewhere there; the sun shines above their heads, although a big gray cloud stands on the fields, exactly where they’re heading. Before he can flick her forehead, she looks down back at him, “Do you want a plausible answer, or some made-up story to scare kids with?”
Sone furrows his eyebrows at the second option. “Well, you got one?”
She nods, because of course she does.
Koide has spent nights terrorizing Sone by knocking at his room at 3 AM this past week, murmuring whatever idiocy she had seen in stupid creepypasta online forums, to which Sone has to remind himself shouldn’t be real. She was thankfully forced to stop once Sone fell asleep during sparring, almost injuring himself; this idiot already sucks at fighting, she can testify as much from all his humiliating losses, and making him sleep-deprived would cruelly worsen his situation.
After an unexpected beat of silence from her part, Koide suddenly snaps her fingers, a tale glowing in her smooth brain. “Some mind-controlling freak went crazy, leading the whole town to mass suicide in some other place…” She nods to herself as if it all made sense.
“That’s why there are no corpses around!” The grin on her face is too proud.
Sone stares quiet, but then cracks up a laugh at her stupidity, finding comfort through this terrifying version of why an entire village’s population has been wiped out from Earth solely because the creator is a total dumbass.
“Have fun traumatizing your kids, Chi-chan.” He taunts, and Koide flips him the bird. Both of them aren’t actually serious with their insults, but it’s a less tiring way to spend their days— or remaining days, depending on how they see it.
In front of them, Yuuji hears their bickering, and it’s nothing new or worrying, therefore he won’t scold them: as their teacher, he should tell them to stop swearing or having a too crude sense of humor, but as an ex-teenager, there’s no point in worrying that much for this.
All they do is chuckle, until they fall into a silence that again doesn’t quite fit Koide.
Sone doesn’t talk, too scared of his own shadow, Koide presumes. While the two teachers escorting them are both in their own world, with Megumi focused on those notes and Yuuji observing the one reading them— it’s embarrassingly cute, possibly too much.
She glances to her side, finding the third student she purposely ignored for most of the trip, other than some random jabs here and there to get her attention annoy her. Her fingers seek a spark, as usual, ready to absorb whatever cursed energy there is just to explode in a myriad of firework-like explosions.
Koide keeps it under control, for once. “Uh, what about you, Hatakeyama?” She almost stammers. “What do you think happened?”
Megumi glances back at Yuuji, finding him already staring with his heart evidently warming at a dangerous pace— they’re communicating, Yuuji’s smile reveals to anyone who’d take a look at his face, they’re talking with something else other than their fists.
This is progress, and after this mission, Yuuji’s totally taking Megumi to celebrate with drinks, pampering him with all the attention he deserves because he’s just so happy.
“It does reek of death,” Hatakeyama comments, and it’s a wonder to anyone who hears that how can she know what death feels or even smells like. “But I don’t think it was mass suicide.” She fixes her monocle, a pause lingering there as she thinks harder.
“...It’s hard to say.” She presses her lips tightly, while the two other students wait for her, because anything thought-out can help with this mission. “This village has faint traces of cursed energy that keep diminishing, but there was somehow an outburst nearby.” It shouldn’t be a question, although she does sound uncertain herself.
Her eyes gaze around—though only one can actually send data into her brain— and analyze the surrounding buildings, “It’s not a coincidence.”
Sone and Koide glance at the other, and Sone is the one to pry further. “What do you mean?”
Hatakeyama points at a building covered in more leaves than any of the others. Quite a stunning sight, if it wasn’t uncanny and irregular for an unspecified reason. “The cursed energy from that area keeps decreasing,” She looks back to her classmates, “As if something is trying to keep it at a certain quantity.”
Koide and Sone nod to each other, sensing that the most-hated member of the group is actually right and not spouting random bullshit like her usual.
Sone is the first to reply at this conclusion, still looking at his best friend, “Kinda like your technique!” Koide nods ecstatic at him, because a battle with a technique similar to hers sounds highly intriguing and can finally justify why they’re not relaxing on a Sunday.
It will be a nice battle, after all.
Hatakeyama doesn’t quite share the same enthusiasm of her classmates. With a click of her tongue, “It’s similar to your technique,” She corrects, but Koide somehow is taken back from the fact she remembers it too— Sone is her best friend, while Hatakeyama is her best enemy. Is she wary of her? Is she also interested in her? Is she also studying her?
“But it’s clearly stronger than you.” Her polite smile lets the monocle shift awkwardly, but her hand is ready to fix it. She’s too calculated with everything she does, says, thinks, and Koide would say she’s like a machine if all of this didn’t make Hatakeyama satisfied with herself.
“You’re such an asshole!” Koide scoffs immediately after, while Yuuji groans and scolds them both, she guesses, because her brain cut him off to focus on whatever thoughts were inside her.
Do machines even get satisfied? Is Hatakeyama satisfied? She ponders for a second, but once she feels a little flicker of cursed energy sparking her fingertips, her mind focuses on that next, keeping it controlled and not enough to be actually harming, just a little nuisance…
Sone can already see where this is going, both from the way Koide smirks devilishly and from how discreetly she’s taking off her gloves. If his predictions are right and his best friend is an idiot, today would be her third time fighting Hatakeyama just this week.
He has to admit that on Friday Hatakeyama struck first, something about her monocle disappearing and unluckily reappearing in Koide’s bag, a prank their classmates pulled just to see them argue.
Then yesterday, they ferociously sparred together, because Sone for some reason was too deep in his sleep and couldn’t fight Koide anymore.
For this week’s last time, today seems perfect, on the mission they’re taking because they fought during their last, leading their first practical exam to failure.
Both Hatakeyama and Koide aren’t able to coexist without bothering the other, Sone realizes. So, nobody shouldn’t mind that he’s silently praying to whatever deity is there to grant him enough strength to endure them for his remaining years in that dreadful school— and also a milkshake on his trip back, possibly.
“Not now, Chi-chan.” Trusting that his wishes are heard, and that his drink is also getting prepared somewhere, he flicks his hand to cut off whatever cursed energy lurks in Koide’s hand— and as expected, Koide can’t feel that peculiar feeling of strength flow in her hands.
Sone shakes his head to her, while the other groans and mouths a clear asshole … She doesn’t mean it, but even if she does, the other puckers his lips and sends her a kiss, which is still enough for Koide to blow a raspberry at him.
It’s extremely childish, and also loud enough for the two teachers to hear it.
“Hopefully,” Megumi joins, not looking away from his notes, but the way he speaks is enough to send shivers in all of them— Yuuji included too somehow, since he should be the one responsible for them.
“You three all remember we’re here for your failed test and not to play.” He complains, and all the students fall quiet, well, Sone and Hatakeyama already were, so this reminder is more for Koide.
What Yuuji does, while Koide shrieks into herself, is chuckle, bringing a note of tranquility in the sudden cold the other adult brought. His hand reaches to pull said adult closer before he hits another tree while checking the notes, “Let them enjoy this a little!”
He turns around to the others, releasing his boyfriend’s arm, “Say, you three wanna learn the actual legends from here?” Yuuji smiles, loosening the mood completely; he can count on Koide and Sone’s constant approval, but just to get Hatakeyama’s too, he adds, chirping, “It might be helpful for the mission.”
The third student nods. “...Okay.” It’s as faint as a whisper from her, but a yes nonetheless.
With all of them going through with his plan, except for Megumi, but Yuuji knows he’ll be approving of this (read:Megumi doesn’t approve of anything). Yuuji clears his voice, theatricals never placed aside when there’s a good story to be told.
“Here goes the tale of a farmer,” Yuuji opens up, more dramatically than any of his students could’ve predicted— but Megumi knew. He knows him and this story too well. “Whose harvest was the most bountiful every year, enough to feed this entire village throughout all their meals.”
His hands capture his students' attention too, relentlessly moving. “His field’s crops were so good that no child, especially his three daughters, ever complained about eating veggies again.”
The students listen carefully to every word, and Megumi can only groan as Yuuji went overboard once again, because this was not something sorcerers were required to do, but merely something Yuuji had always been fixated on.
“The locals all had helped create the farmer’s wife’s beloved hometown, and he vowed to them,” He suddenly spun around, yet again facing his students. With a cough, he pitched his voice lower, “As long as we live, I’ll be your first resource of food in the whole prefecture!”
Megumi inhaled sharply, hiding the chuckle about to burst out, while Sone freely snickered, surely less tense from when they stepped in there… Megumi notes it down, for future times the kid will have to calm: Yuuji’s dumb stories work.
Yuuji smiled wider, if that was even possible, relieved to hear someone proudly enjoying it. “The locals all cheered, happily travelling to the farmers’ house all day, all week, to buy the freshest and tastiest rice produced overnight. The word quickly spread all over—”
“Yuuji,” Megumi called, turning off the tablet because he’s now officially giving up on making sense of the higher-ups' research for the mission. “You might want to cut right to the point.”
He felt the house’s cursed energy thicken in the distance, too similar to a curse than a sorcerer’s, but strong nonetheless… Perhaps there are even more curses than expected. He’ll let the students be the judges of that when they finish this mission.
“It’s a legend!” Yuuji argued, bringing Megumi back to the conversation and away from his absurd analyses, “Everything has a point— and, I practically studied all of this.” Megumi surely remembers how loud the other was that same morning, ranting about whatever crazy theory he read online and how they could practically make a movie about this, Megumi!
“As I was narrating before someone interrupted me,” Megumi side-eyes Yuuji once the latter continues with his story, the clear jab not truly hurting him but still merely childish. “The word of such a successful family spread all over the prefecture.”
“People all around Japan came to visit whatever the farmer’s fields could offer, and some even caught interest for his three daughters.” He paused, remembering what he read in that article. Most of the words inside were illegible, but the title was loud and clear.
‘Newlyweds found dead under unknown circumstances’
Yuuji keeps that in his memory and goes on, “Once the farmer gave his blessing to three lucky men, the village helped prepare for the occasions— which all happened in the same week.” He brought out his fist to them, “The eldest married on Monday,” One finger came up, “The middle daughter on Wednesday” Another one, “And the youngest on Friday.” A third finger followed.
“But,” He claps, those three fingers disappearing, “On Sunday, the whole village decided to set a party on the beach.” Yuuji remembers the last article ever published in that village, quietly, he finishes, “A tragedy occurred.”
“No way.” Koide murmurs while Sone gasps, Hatakeyama is left with her eyebrows slowly raising.
“ Yes way,” Yuuji replies stubbornly, “The youngest daughter and her husband died that same night.”
‘Under unknown circumstances’ he remembers reading in the title, although a distant relative of the mayor had revealed that the newlyweds died from the fireworks, burnt alive… What a terrible way to die, it’s a comment Yuuji doesn’t mind sharing, but some memories keep him from doing so. Perhaps his students don’t need to know everything in life.
He returns to the story, a little less giddy as a way to respect the dead, “From despair, the family decided to grieve alone in their house for months, thus closing their business.” He took a moment to glance back at his three students, all waiting for him to continue.
“And once they returned,” A pause for suspense, his voice calm, but he soon yelled, “They discovered the entire village starved without them!”
…No fear arose, not even a tiny scream or a gasp, actually. He was met with furrowed eyebrows, confused looks in all their tiny, young faces.
“Itadori–sensei,” Hatakeyama calls, and he sees the same stare Megumi gave him that same morning when he finished the story. “This doesn’t make much sense.” That’s also what Megumi said— Yuuji can feel the bastard grinning beside him.
“Yeah!” Koide is the next one to comment, “They could've gone fishing, or something.” She glances back and forth to her classmates, searching for their approval, which doesn’t fail to appear as they nod.
“Or get food from another place,” Sone points out.
A faint murmur of all the potential actions this village could’ve taken fills the air, ruining what silence remained before their arrival. Obviously, Yuuji is relieved that these three have somehow put their previous fighting behind, although it’s also kind of rude how fast they suddenly made up just to shit on this story…
However, they still seem to be missing the most crucial part. “Students, students!” Yuuji calls for their attention before Megumi does, surely more irritated by their loudness than the fact they were rambling on. “This is just a legend, of course,”
He clears his throat, putting the teacher facade on display for a moment. “With each myth naturally arrives the fear of whoever hears it.” Sone is a prime example of that, but he’s not going to call that poor kid out. “And if this village has such a scary story to tell, then it’s obvious it will bring curses relating to it.”
Yuuji’s index finger then points up, as if about to recite something by heart, but he’s just playing the fool to entertain Megumi and his students. “Let’s revise a little to make sure everyone understands,” He begins.
“Where does cursed energy originate from…” His finger turns to— “Sone-kun!”
“Negative emotions!” Sone answers with the same loud tone, his brain unsurprisingly not lagging behind. He’s a sharp student in the classroom, perhaps a little less in the battlefield, but he’s got time to learn more of his incredible technique.
“And,” Yuuji nods, bringing his finger to tap on Sone’s forehead as he does, one way to tell his brain of what great job it did in just a few seconds. He then moves it between Hatakeyama and Koide, “What negative emotions has this legend brought…”
He lingers for a second, indecisive, “You! Koide-chan!”
She jumps, unexpecting to be called already, “Uh… Sadness? Grief? Fear?” The more she sputters random answers and the more her voice panics. “All! It’s all!” She bursts out the same final answer she has been using during the last theory classes. Yuuji would say he’s worried of her not studying enough, if he just wasn’t the same at her age.
“All correct answers!” He high-fives her, for once this stupid method has somewhat worked. “But the most important thing in this case is fear.” His hand goes to ruffle her hair as he reminds her of this.
In his mind, Yuuji is thanking Megumi for all those times he forced him to study together, so that he would’ve avoided embarrassing himself because he didn’t know the correct answer but just many valuable ones, as he liked saying.
“Now, Hatakeyama-chan,” Yuuji ignores the bitterness from the student’s face for using the wrong honorific— well, excuse him if Hatakeyama-san sounds too grown-up for a fifteen-year-old.
“No question for you, since there is something controlling the cursed energy in here.” He confirms one of the silly theories shared earlier, “It’s surely boosting whatever curses we’ll find.”
Noticing the smug smirk forming on Hatakeyama’s face for being right, Koide really wants to slap it off her head— also, she’ll slap it off, and not blast it off. Koide isn’t thinking of going easy on Hatakeyama, but since Sone hasn’t sawn her cursed energy back to her hand, Koide’s hands can only rely on their physical strength.
She’s ready to swing at each instance, but she immediately backs off once Yuuji beams so happily, so proud, at all of them.
“Great work, everyone!” He turns around, facing the street correctly as he bounces on the road, looking forward to their mission.
“Let’s try to keep it up!” Something tells Yuuji it will be memorable.
It should be pointed out it’s a pure coincidence how the outburst of cursed energy is inside a farmer’s house, possibly the same one their teacher spoke so enthusiastically about in that dumb tale. Thanks to this, the word haunted comes to Sone’s mind quite too many times, and he has nobody to talk about it without getting belittled from Koide or ignored by Hatakeyama.
“Oi, Sone,” Koide calls, and he immediately looks for wherever her voice seems to be coming from— inside the fridge? Is she really thinking of eating food found in a house from the 60s? “Can you quit muttering.” It’s worded as a question, but it sounds more like an order.
She gets her head out of the fridge, face clearly crestfallen and pissed for finding only some molded cherries inside. “If I hear you saying how much you wanna get back to the dorms and sleep one more time,” The threat isn’t complete, but from the way she grunts and throws a handful of cherries on the floor, slamming the fridge as he does, Sone gets what she means.
‘The next ghost haunting this house will be you. ’ Well, she tends to exaggerate with her warnings, but he’s too busy making sure no rotten fruit has got on him than to determine if what she’s saying is realistic.
Sone sighs, “I’m not even talking.” With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, he walks back to wherever Hatakeyama was, who’s the only one actually doing her share of work for this test.
Immediately after, Koide kicks Sone on the back of his knee, seeing right through him. “Quit lying too!” The other stumbles, but is thankfully able not to kiss the cherries’ pulps with his face.
He immediately gets up, and since talking to Koide is practically useless and too violent anyway, he looks at Hatakeyama, busy visualizing where the curses hid by figuring out the location of their cursed energy: she only senses them three, their teachers in one of the floors above, still not sure of their location— and something weakly flickering around them, but it's still not enough to be actually bothersome for any of them.
“Is that so bad,” Sone glances at the most serious person in the room, “That I just want to relax?”
Hatakeyama smirks, yet still graces him with an answer. “For a sorcerer, anyone would say yes.”
Logically, it’s still not too bad— why should he care about being a sorcerer? What's interesting in this job other than dying? He’s at this dumb school only because his family forced him on a job which will solve their financial problems, things he doesn’t know nor care about.
“I don’t want to be a sorcerer,” Sone murmurs, bringing his hands to his hair while tugging at the short regrowing strands he was forced to buzz by his mother a few weeks prior to his entrance in the school.... Something about looking professional and scoring points.
He misses his poor hair, and each strand is a reminder of the world’s cruelty… “Screw everything!”
“Yeah, screw everything.” Koide mimics exaggeratedly, earning a chuckle from Hatakeyama that somehow makes her a little more eager to tease him— what?
“Stop that.” Sone bites back bitterly to Koide, because at each taunt his patience only gets condemned; he’s not necessarily upset at her, but annoyed nonetheless.
Koide ignores her mind and Sone, exaggerating her voice to resemble him better, “I’m Sone-screw-everything-Michiha,” He’d say he doesn’t sound like that, but she’s too damn good at being irritating he can only groan. “I could rival god with my technique, but I wanna make clothes, and sleep all day!” She booms in the room, and maybe the ‘rivaling-god’ part is more of Koide’s or Hatakayama’s dream, but the rest is kind of true…
“I am so gay—” Sone immediately places his hands on her face to shut her up, “That’s entirely homophobic and low!” He scoffs while Koide frees herself and pushes him away, standing right to the other side of the kitchen’s island, like in some crappy American western movie where the protagonist and the best friend, who was actually the enemy all along, are about to shoot each other.
“I could report you to our teachers and have you expelled.” Now, he’s not sure if this school would actually do something about bullying, since he expects his teacher’s weird best-friend-but-also-not-his-best-friend named Todo to make them resolve it with a battle… Maybe he should just request not letting that guy know anything about it.
“I don’t see why they would care about you,” Koide sticks her tongue out, a little too childish for her age but somehow still mature for what she could usually do. “Homotron Three-Thousand!”
Sone pauses, his eyebrows knit so hard together that he looks more angry than confused. “...Maybe because they’re two men married to each other? Hello?”
Surprisingly, before Koide can answer, Hatakeyama springs her attention away from the floor, where she was checking the cursed energy coming near the cherries, supposedly more useful than listening to them argue.
“For your information, they’re not married,” Seems like she was listening after all.
“Now, that’s just delusional.” Sone clicks his tongue, “I know you’re from a traditional family and all, but I didn’t expect you to be also—”
Hatakeyama sighs loudly to interrupt whatever insult he was getting ready, “They’ve never worn rings, Sone-san.” And Sone’s accusations drop.
His mouth is left open in a little ‘o’, the sound coming out too—no pun intended from his brain— to fill the kitchen’s room as he’s having this realization, which he’s not sure if to believe yet, but now that he thinks about it… “Wait, really?”
“And she’s the one with a blind eye,” Koide points to Hatakeyama, somehow already next to her while he thought for a full minute of his teacher’s relationship. He’s silently hoping none of them has mind reading techniques because he’s 100% sure Megumi would be grossed out at this whole conversation.
Perhaps that’s why they never told anyone anything about it, except for all the adults that worked at the school, he supposes, and getting information out of them is practically impossible— except for Nobara, but she has specified already that for every information there would’ve been a price, particularly higher if it was about Megumi.
“I just supposed they were, okay!” Sone groans, and it might be the sixth time he does in less than an hour. “Plus, Itadori–sensei doesn’t have a finger to put a ring on, so I thought Fushi–sensei just didn’t want to show off that he has all of them.”
After a pause, he begins to think again, with a hand on his chin as he does, “Or maybe Fushi–sensei would be that cruel to do that…” It’s a faint mutter, but enough to make Koide’s face fill with disgust that this specimen of a human is her best friend.
Perhaps she should’ve opted for Hatakeyama, she thinks, but the thought is quickly suppressed because that’s weird. Koide is still sure she dislikes that girl, each word from her makes Koide’s fingers tingle with the need to touch her, obviously to make her explode.
Yeah, surely for that reason… Anyhow, instead of focusing on herself and whatever goes on in her head, Koide focuses on her counterpart’s stupidity, “I sometimes wonder what happened to your brain.” She also wonders what’s happening in her own brain, but that’s a talk for when the source of said doubts will disappear from there.
Hatakeyama laughs softly, in a way that anyone who knows her already realizes she’s mocking them. “For once, we share the same trail of thinking,” Her head turns to Koide.
…It should be weird how it pains Koide to find in Hatakeyama’s eyes hatred and disgust when looking at her, as if still somehow an inferior being she has never accepted to exist with in this century.
“How does it feel using more brain cells than usual?” Hatakeyama smirks, fixing her monocle once again before exiting the kitchen, going to whatever hallway was next in that insanely big house.
Sone had wondered how a farmer could even afford it all, but now, he’s thinking about what Koide will reply to Hatakeyama with after this little insult— in fact, in their most recent fight on campus, he remembers Koide telling everyone how she was going to use her sparks to shape that monocle’s glass into a cup where she would’ve then drank Hatakeyama’s blood… It’s definitely gruesome if he thinks more about it, which makes him wonder how he even became friends with her in the first place, but she’s not always serious.
Koide’s threats, according to Sone, are either useless, because they are provided at 2 AM when they sleep over each other’s room and are too groggy to move, or completely overdone. All the anger inside her quickly overflows from words into actions, so, now, he can only remain curious, and wary, of when this transition will happen.
His best friend exhales through her nose, something boiling inside, Sone suspects on the edge of his seat, “Very funny, Hatakeyama.” …She seems almost sad to say it, with nothing else to be added.
This was unexpected, he thinks leaning closer to her, as if it was a clone and not the real Koide, but the same smooth brain seems to be working fine— which means it’s not truly working, as expected. “Hold up. “
He squints his eyes at her, “You’re not insulting her back? What happened to you?” What could the reason be? He thinks, looking at Koide’s face more attentively.
A faint dust of pink lingers on her cheeks, as if she was… embarrassed? He didn’t even think that was a feeling she could’ve shown so openly during the day.
Unless… His eyebrows raise, and this is the second grand revelation he has blowing in his mind, somehow both of them relationship-related, which also makes him feel more single than ever. “Oh.”
“What do you mean oh —” Koide barks back, a little hushed so that the possible enemy-slash–possible-love-interest of her life won’t hear them. “Get your head out of your ass!” Her hand pushes Sone’s face away, somehow trying to cover the dumb grin that has appeared on him.
“So it’s like that!” He laughs while fighting to get away from her grasp, “You’re homotron nine -thousand.” Koide can only rant how that’s a dumb title, as if she didn’t use it on him a few jabs ago.
Finally free of Koide’s hands, “Hatakeyama-chan!” He shouts, running towards wherever the third student went, “Chi-chan has something to tell you!” He chants in the house, not so scared of what it could hide anymore because the most frightening is right behind and so pissed at him.
“No, Chi-chan fucking does not!” Koide fumes and immediately goes for him, ready to ignite the first part of his body she’ll touch in shining sparks, possibly using his ass as the biggest double-break the fireworks’ scene has ever seen.
“Sone!” She screams again, the wooden parquet creaking under their steps, which slowly reduces to coming only from Koide’s shoes.
“Get back here, you little—” Before Koide can finish her insult, she hits something extremely hard, her forehead producing the same sound a woodpecker does when chopping a tree, which is strange.
Why would there be something as hard as a tree inside a house? It’s not some panel of wood either, the surface clearly not smooth to touch, but rather rough, layered, and unworked, almost abandoned to itself and to the beautiful process nature allows; a similar example would be the village they just traveled in.
“Hatakeyama?” She’s the only one with a forehead as hard as hers. Koide knows well after headbutting her so many times during sparring, which seems the only way their faces can connect.
When Koide actually looks, Hatakeyama isn’t here— well, she is, on the floor, that is, with a paralyzed Sone right beside. Something in front of Koide stands too, that figure blocking her from the others, who are just a few steps out of her reach.
She registers in her brain how it’s something filled with enough cursed energy that a glance could get her cursed, if this curse happens to have eyes… It’s humanoid enough though, with two legs, two arms, a torso and a head. Mostly covered by thick baggy clothing with faint traditional patterns all over it, the ends of its sleeves and pants are muddy and dirty, the same condition applies to its tree-like skin.
Immediately, Koide removes her gloves once again, nasty scars staring back at her. She gets ready to blast it off, channeling her cursed energy into her fists— but she can’t. Someone had stopped her multiple times from attacking Hatakeyama by simply blocking her hands from possessing any cursed energy, and that someone forgot he should’ve sawn it back to her.
“Sone!” Koide shouts, because the idiot has never been good at anything required to be a sorcerer, so he obviously doesn’t attack whatever is in front of them. “Do something!” Anything could help, but he doesn’t move. He only stares at Hatakeyama, afraid.
“Little child,” The curse speaks, voice low and breathy, as if the oxygen felt weird to it. Which, sure, it’s a tree-looking curse, so it makes sense for it to act like this.
What’s abnormal— and this takes a moment to settle into anyone’s mind in the hall— is that it speaks, and Koide chants this in her mind. Her eyes open wide as she wishes to suddenly disappear from this horrible situation, all because it fucking speaks.
Somehow, she finds the time to visualize Yuuji’s lessons, something she never thought of doing in her entire life, but those few words her teacher said were the only ones she bothered to listen to that day.
If a curse is able to speak, the man had started, and Koide cut off almost everything after because she was too busy doing literally anything else than listening, but the moment she turned back to reality, thankfully just a few seconds later, she heard him say, so you better have someone helping you!
Koide remembers distinctively that Yuuji’s eyes paused on Hatakeyama that day, his way of silently reminding her how sorcerers cooperating is a must, especially for young sorcerers.
…If Koide looks at Hatakeyama, her fingers usually tingle, obviously because they’re overcharged with cursed energy, and her heart speeds by a lot too, and it does too now, for a reason centered entirely on fear; she finds the time again to think of something else— Just what did Shoko tell their class to do in these cases? Right, breathing exercises.
The first time is complicated, but it goes in and out safely.
Hatakeyama is unresponsive and on the floor.
Perhaps Shoko told her to do something else, since her heart still feels about to explode, but Koide doesn’t have time to think about any other way to calm down. This time, the air she inhales lingers inside.
Sone is practically immobilized from fear, and about to shit himself too.
…Koide doesn’t let that sacred air out, too afraid that she’ll need whatever oxygen there is to fight a talking curse all by herself.
I’m alone.
The curse slowly turns its head around, if that group of branches could even be classified as such— Koide discovers the pair of eyes she feared to actually be there all along, now focusing solely on her.
Koide gulps, but her mouth opens back again, unsure if to call for Sone’s help again, curse the curse out, or beg some kind of god to spare her.
“What do you plan on doing with my sweet daughter…” This somewhat- parental curse expects something to surely happen with his daughter…Whoever it may be referring to.
Can curses have children? Before she’s granted another pause to contemplate this thought, the curse’s voice regains her attention. “Leave us alone, this is no place for you.”
Koide can’t realize whatever is happening right in front of her, because the curse is already swinging—no, the curse is growing its arm towards her neck.
“You still think this is a good idea?”
Megumi breaks the silence of the storage room he and Yuuji have been hiding in for the past thirty minutes, sitting on either side of the room while looking at the other only a few meters away, hopeful that their students will soon find them without creating any unhelpful complications.
His head leans to the wall, the wood seems to have been slowly rotting, but it was stable enough to help hold the house. “I’m sure I can hear them arguing.” The sound of Koide’s insults aren’t hard to detect if he concentrates.
With that in mind, Megumi glances back at Yuuji, “I hope you will tell me if we need to go out there.” He reminds the other, but Megumi knows Yuuji won’t do that yet, preferring to give those three just another tiny chance to succeed and demonstrate they’re actually serious on this job.
Yuuji rightfully pouts. “Ijichi-san said this mission was about to be given to one of your students,” He fidgets with his hair, keeping himself distracted from that possibility of failure, “So I’m sure that three of my students are able to handle it, ‘Gumi.”
Exorcise all curses present in the assigned building and retrieve the hostages safely, just like their last mission, with the only addiction of not overly-arguing or purposely placing the other in danger… Easy work, they can do this, Yuuji declared more to himself than to Megumi, because the latter could see the liar inside him waving his arms back and forth for attention.
“I know,” Megumi groans, because he’s perfectly aware that Yuuji is not sure and has actually been going crazy the whole day, but Megumi promised to not remind him of the obvious once again.
After a stretch of silence, Megumi concentrates on this house, because “This place is overflowing with cursed energy,” It comes out almost as a whisper from how unsure of what truly lies here.
When he peeks to the ground, his eyes search for wherever those three may be on the floor below, “I almost can’t sense them…” Megumi shakes his head, about to consider the most improbable theories his brain ever provided: maybe this is his midlife crisis.
Yuuji chuckles, his weird attempt of lifting the spirits anywhere that somehow has always worked wonders.
He stands up from the upside-down bucket, weirdly a comfortable sitting spot, and walks closer to Megumi. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of the legend,” his fingers take Megumi’s nose as hostage, just like they’re currently supposed to be for his students’ test once again.
“I thought you said these types of things were stupid and totally untrue.” His laughter fills the room, and he’s sure to feel Megumi’s face heating against his fingertips, either for the sudden contact or the mild teasing of his words.
“Quit that—” Megumi whines, but the tiny curve of his lips reveal he doesn’t mind it. “Seriously, Yuuji,” How serious can Megumi be with that sweet smirk surfacing on his face? Yuuji would blow his whole salary just to see it every day— and he does see it, for free, by the way.
"Stop doing this,” Megumi remarks, probably for the hundredth time in their relationship, and Yuuji releases his nose.
“Sure,” Yuuji lies with a grin. Given that reading Megumi has never been something too hard, Yuuji knows he’s not truly furious at him, but he still frowns adorably as if he actually was. “Sounds like you’re forgetting how much you love it.”
His giggle warms Megumi’s heart, and this effect, surely a chemical reaction of some sort from their souls connecting, happens to him with too many things Yuuji does. If Megumi thinks about it, it happened last week after Yuuji dunked all their dirty clothes in the laundry basket, keeping his winning streak of 183 against nobody, since Megumi has never voluntarily participated in any of these— still, even if Megumi groaned when a shirt would get stuck on the ceiling lamp, or when something shattered on the floor for a messy throw, his heart warmed so much at Yuuji’s dumb victory dance.
Through all those 183 times, Yuuji would take Megumi’s hands, intertwining their fingers as if suddenly the numbers 8 and 10 were arguably better than a double ten. For 183 times, their hearts beat together to the humming sound of the washing machine and whatever music they arranged to the sound of their thoughts. For 183 times, they stepped on each other’s feet, before concluding Yuuji’s victory dance featuring Megumi with a kiss, the loveliest and stupidest reminder of their love.
Idiot, it’s what Megumi said all those 183 times and tons of others, and obviously now too.
Before Yuuji can get upset at him, a sharp blast of cursed energy leaks out from the floor below, violent and uncontained, rising at each second. It doesn’t take long to figure out that this outburst can’t be made from a first year, but rather something— or someone— else.
“Fuck.” Yuuji’s eyes widen at the realization of an active danger in there, taking in how Megumi’s face is mirroring his same worry.
Immediately, Yuuji bolts to the door, uncaring of whatever he’ll face outside this tiny room because the only thought haunting him is that his students are in danger, possibly because of him.
For once in his life, he didn’t check beforehand his students’ mission’s location, because trust is suddenly a concept that shouldn’t exist in this line of work; he should have never blindly trusted the higher-ups on not mislabeling a mission’s grade, because even if they get replaced over and over again, nothing will assure that sorcerers are truly safe.
Yuuji wasn’t safe in one of his first missions— he’s sure his heart still doesn’t beat like any other, even if Megumi has testified the contrary by paying close attention to it each time one of them needed to— and now his students aren’t either.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. Peeking at it, he recognizes Megumi's hand from the manicured and clear-polished nails, even if it didn’t feel like his touch at first.
“Wait,” Megumi frets, not sitting anymore but standing close to the other, his face filled with a certain emotion Yuuji was unable to pinpoint yet. Is indecisive decisiveness even a thing? Because he looks weirded out from their touch, from Yuuji’s eyes staring at him, their closeness. Even with that painfully obvious, Megumi is still touching back, analyzing the other’s facial traits, with his fingers placed firmly on Yuuji’s shoulder, the palm pressed as if to keep him in place.
Yuuji reluctantly listens to his lover’s voice and doesn’t open the door yet. His brows furrow, because if it were anyone else, he would’ve bolted outside, uncaring of whatever required his attention.
That being said, this is Megumi, and it’s engraved in Yuuji’s DNA of always hearing him out. “What do you mean, wait?” He knows what the word means, but hearing it now seems out of place, almost like looking at a wolf and calling it a dog— it’s the best example he had in his mind, because if nothing makes sense outside of it then his insides won’t either.
He places his other hand on Megumi’s, who’s fingers were digging too tight on his shoulders. Yuuji tries removing it, “The students are outside with who knows—”
“Will you ever ask me to marry you?” Megumi cuts him off, eyes dull with the same uncertain certainty from before, one which asks him tons of questions he’s not sure if he has an exact answer anymore
What color is the sky above? The answer is right outside at the window, but Yuuji stares at Megumi as if he had the answer somewhere written on him, tattooed between a scar and one of the few moles infesting his skin.
Who’s there after death? Who, not what, because they lost so many friends that the afterlife is not a place, rather a living body, functioning with all those lost souls as its organs. The most beautiful creation in the divine universe.
Will you ever ask me to marry you? Yuuji’s grip loosened in a blink, letting Megumi’s nails tear crescent-shaped creases in his uniform, and It hurts, both physically—because whenever Megumi is doing a manicure by himself he gets his nails sharper, which Yuuji admits is cute and also the main reason he would choose Edward over Jacob any day— and mentally, because what is he supposed to answer?
Do you want me to marry you? This is Yuuji’s question, one that, like Megumi’s, will be left unanswered and unsaid.