Work Text:
“What kind of woman is your type?”
Megumi had apparently never given an answer that was satisfactory enough. Todo had assumed the difficulty had come from the gender mentioned, and thus adjusted to ask what guy was his type instead. While a considerate move of Todo, it hadn’t really made a difference as to what the tough part of the question had been.
Someone kind and of good character, with a compassionate heart. They were the qualities Megumi most valued, so why would he answer anything else? What other type of person would anyone want by their side? But apparently that answer was boring and didn’t count, leading Megumi to believe he fundamentally didn’t understand what a “type” really was. Itadori and Kugisaki seemed to have no issue with rattling off their answers and hyping up the idea of a potential girlfriend or boyfriend. Tall women with big butts. Hot women who could kick ass. Powerful people who could take the lead. Megumi could understand theoretically how his friends were into those things and how they could enjoy talking about it, but he certainly didn’t share the same passion. He didn’t mean to be “boring” in comparison; it was just that the vague answer was all he could supply when he didn’t have anything else to go off.
He chose one day to ask about it while they were hanging out, sitting around the table of a diner waiting for their lunch.
“Hey,” Megumi said. “How do you two know what your “types” are?”
“Huh?” was Kugisaki’s immediate response. “Whaddya mean how do we know? How would someone not know?”
Megumi tilted his head, debating whether it was worth adding to the confusion by throwing in an extra layer of another “how” question. How did not knowing seem so unfathomable to Kugisaki? Instead, he turned to look for Itadori’s response.
Itadori was mirroring a similar expression to Megumi, a frown and a tilted head, but to his credit, he seemed to be considering Megumi’s question. “You just… know?” Itadori offered. “It’s like when I see a woman that’s my type and she’s walking past and it’s just, whoa!?” He raised his hands up in front of his face as if to illustrate his point.
“Don’t you have those moments when you see someone and you can feel, oh they’re hot!” Kugisaki added. “It’s kind of obvious that your type would just be whoever does that to you. Pretty hard to miss.”
Todo’s question had been about what people find hot? No wonder Megumi’s response made Todo react as he had; he’d misunderstood the question from the start.
“If it were obvious to everyone, then I wouldn’t have asked,” Megumi retorted. “Maybe it isn’t as easy for everyone to just look at a woman and know that’s a type.”
Kugisaki leaned across the table to him, dropping the volume of her voice slightly.
“Fushiguro,” she remarked. “We uh, kinda long figured that you don’t like girls.”
Megumi had considered that of himself as well, especially after Todo had assumed as such. But the more he had thought about it, it wasn’t as if guys were any different either. It wasn’t as if any feelings he lacked towards women were made up for in men. There was nothing to direct in the first place.
“I don’t think it’s about guys or girls,” Megumi said. “I’ve never felt any particular way for… any. At least not the way you both describe.”
The eyes of both of his friends widened and glanced at each other. Megumi was sure there was something telepathic going on there. He dropped his eyes to the table to let them speak wordlessly without him. It was the first time he had actually said it out loud, and he couldn’t tell whether relief or embarrassment was more prominent at having done so. But it was the truth; he had never had the feeling of “hot” that his friends described towards anyone. The entire time they had talked about people of interest between each other, Megumi had not been able to relate.
“Y’know, Fushiguro,” Itadori was the first to speak. “I don’t really get it but… that’s all cool?”
Megumi looked up from the table. Itadori and Kugisaki were looking at him once again, Kugisaki with a relaxed, casual expression, and Itadori with a warm one.
“It is?” Megumi asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Itadori said. “It makes sense for you, so it’s not like it changes anything we think about you.”
“Hell, you’re probably avoiding a lot of bullshit by not feeling any of that stuff,” Kugisaki said. “Besides, it gives me one less person to worry about getting into a relationship before me.”
“I was going to be the first anyway,” Itadori said.
“As if!” Kugisaki exclaimed. “You couldn’t pull anyone faster than me if your life depended on it!”
Just like that, their dynamic had resumed as normal, with Itadori and Kugisaki loudly bickering with Megumi as a witness. Nothing had changed just because Megumi had revealed this about himself. Not only that, but it was okay for him to exist without sharing the same experience as his friends. It was okay for him to not have those feelings that people like Todo had assumed were universal. He could have lived the remainder of his life never knowing what those feelings were.
To his own surprise, he found himself developing an exception, a flicker of the feelings that others talked about, even if it still wasn’t in the way they had meant.
It was the following year, some time after having reunited with Itadori and Kugisaki again. “Normal” was something that was never going to be the same; they all carried scars now, both physically and mentally, and they had all been through traumas that were anything but normal for their age. So much of how their lives were going to continue was unsure with the people that had been lost, and everybody was still recovering from everything that had happened. Megumi himself was adjusting to the concept of living again, thus a lot of his time was spent just being around Itadori and Kugisaki, not saying much himself. But when Itadori and Kugisaki carried the energy that they did, talking loudly between each other while Megumi simply observed, he could feel at peace that there was some normalcy between them that had remained.
Megumi first noticed the new development when the three of them were sitting around in his room, as they had come to do often. Megumi was sitting in his bed, with Itadori perched on the end of it, and Kugisaki seated in a nearby chair. A rare silence had fallen between the three of them, as they were occupied with some new snacks they were trying together.
Megumi found his eyes continually drifting over towards Itadori on the bed. He had been feeling more drawn to him lately, in a way that wasn’t the same as with Kugisaki. Megumi supposed it couldn’t be helped, as Itadori had been the one to reach Megumi in the depths of his despair more than anyone else had. It only followed that Megumi would feel a sense of closeness and understanding with Itadori most of all, that he would feel most comfortable when Itadori was by his side.
Megumi had always found it difficult to imagine an ideal partner in his life the way others had asked him to. The only way he could was through a hypothetical scenario in which such a person was already in his life, already close to him, checking all the boxes of what Megumi valued.
Someone kind.
Someone of good character.
Someone with a compassionate heart.
Just like Itadori Yuuji.
If he were speaking of what was ideal… then it would be living alongside Itadori.
Megumi knew he hadn’t always felt quite this way towards Itadori. It was something he had realised once he had been made aware of the fact that Itadori had become his closest person. There was a “something else” that Megumi couldn’t identify. It still wasn’t the feeling of “hot” that had been described to him, nor any sensation that was particularly loud or explosive. It was something deep within him that felt at home, a feeling he couldn’t track the trajectory of until it was there, but one that was meant to be there.
Itadori glanced over in Megumi’s direction, meeting his gaze before Megumi had the chance to even realise he had been caught staring. Itadori smiled, and the very sight settled warmly within Megumi’s chest. Megumi couldn’t put a name to the change in his feelings, but knowing Itadori was special in some way was all he needed to know. Megumi’s “type” was always only going to be whoever was most special to him.