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“I didn’t know you were this rich, Fushiguro.”
Yuji slipped off his shoes and neatly lined them up by the door. It had been a long time since they’d had a proper day off. After their last mission, the one with the Death Painting Curse, when Megumi had spoken about his sister, Tsumiki, for the first time. They realized something. For all the time they’d been fighting side by side, they didn’t actually know each other that well. So they agreed they should hang out more. Get to know each other better.
“I’m not,”
Megumi was already flopping lazily onto the living room sofa.
“I’m not surprised,” Nobara said dryly as she dropped the grocery bags filled with snacks onto the table.
“Huh?” Yuji blinked, looking around.
The apartment was big. The interior was tastefully arranged, the furniture expensive and complete. And the address? Definitely in an elite neighborhood.
“Have you seen the clothes he wears every day?” She continued. “All branded.”
“Really? I don’t notice that stuff—wait, is that a piano?” Yuji wandered off, knocking lightly against furniture as he explored. “This is insane.”
“Itadori,” Nobara said flatly, “the shirt he’s wearing probably costs two months of your salary.”
“What?!”
“I don’t actually know,” Megumi said.
They both turned to him.
“Everything’s just… already prepared,” he added. “For me.”
They both stared at him in shock.
Yuji leaned toward Nobara and whispered dramatically,
“He’s definitely the heir of some massive conglomerate.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Only rich people say things like that,” Nobara muttered as she opened the fridge, “Fushiguro, do you have beer?”
“We’re underage,” Megumi replied, turning on the TV.
“You’re no fun.”
She dropped beside him and held out a can. “Coke?”
“Thanks.”
“I ordered pizza and fried chicken. It should be here soon.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s with that face?”
“What face?”
“You look pale.” She tugged at the sleeve of his thick shirt. “It’s hot. Why are you wearing this?”
“Kugisaki,” Yuji said, collapsing onto the couch and stealing the remote. “He probably doesn’t feel the heat with this place blasting AC like this.”
“Fair.”
They sprawled together, staring up at the large TV screen.
“Let’s watch Human Earthworm.”
“Are you kidding me? Let’s watch a romance. With a hot guy in it,” Nobara shot back, snatching the remote from his hands.
“No, trust me, this one’s good—”
Megumi let them wrestle. He pushed himself up and walked toward the door.
“Guys, the food’s—”
The hallway tilted for half a second.
He steadied himself against the wall, fingers pressing into cool paint. Just a moment. Just enough for the dizziness to pass.
“The food’s here,” he finished, as if nothing had happened.
Yuji hurried over to take the boxes. “Pepperoni?”
“Extra cheese.”
Yuji opened one. Nobara leaned in.
Their bickering died instantly.
Yuji looked up, almost reverent. “Fushiguro. Please adopt me.”
“Me too.”
Megumi paused on his way to the kitchen, gave them a look that clearly said absolutely not, and continued walking. “You guys need plates?”
“Nope.”
“Yes, please, Dad.”
They both burst out laughing.
Megumi handed them plates anyway before lying back down.
“You have three bedrooms here,” Yuji said, mouth full. “I could totally move in.”
“If I had this place, I wouldn’t live in the dorm,” Nobara added.
“I like the dorm,” Megumi said.
“Why? You have this.”
“It’s efficient.” He replied, “And it’s closer to you guys.”
They froze.
“Megumi-kyun,” Yuji gasped dramatically. “You want to be close to us?”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes.
They laughed.
Megumi’s gaze drifted down the hallway.
“That’s my sister’s room.”
“Oh—the one you mentioned the other day?” Yuji asked. “Tsu—Tsuki?”
“Tsumiki,” Nobara corrected.
“Yeah. Tsumiki.”
Megumi closed his eyes briefly.
Talking about her still felt… weird.
He wasn’t used to talking about his life with anyone.
But maybe with these two… it wasn’t so bad.
“Fushiguro,” Yuji said between bites of pizza, “we can come with you next time you visit her.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Megumi smiled faintly.
It might even be the first time he introduced friends to Tsumiki.
“Okay, then I’ll take that room.” Yuji pointed at the black door at the end of the hallway.
“Itadori, that’s probably his parents’ room,” Nobara said, smacking his head lightly.
“Oh—right.”
It is.
His gaze lingered on the black door at the end of the hallway.
That room wasn’t empty. It never really was.
Gojo’s things were inside. Half-folded shirts, sunglasses on the bedside table, a stack of papers he probably forgot to finish. The faint scent of his cologne still clung to the space, even though he hadn’t been back in weeks.
He was overseas on a mission again.
Megumi and he didn’t come back here often anyway. Living at the dorm was easier, closer to school, closer to the training grounds, and closer to his team.
But this apartment had been home long before the dorm ever was.
Gojo had brought him here when he was still… five, maybe six. He couldn’t even remember anymore.
You’ll stay with me for now, okay?
Don’t worry about anything else.
He never made it sound heavy. Never made it feel like charity.
Megumi grew up in this space. Learned everything here. Studied at the small dining table while Gojo sprawled on the couch grading papers badly and complaining about other teachers. Fell asleep more than once waiting for the sound of the front door unlocking late at night.
It wasn’t just guardianship.
It was family.
He just… never said that out loud.
“Yeah, that’s my parent’s room,” Megumi said.
Yuji blinked. “Oh.”
Nobara glanced at him but didn’t ask more.
Megumi appreciated that.
If Gojo weren’t overseas, he would probably burst through that door without warning, loud and dramatic as ever, complaining about why he hadn’t been invited to hang out with them.
Megumi found himself almost smiling at the thought.
Yuji and Nobara exchanged a glance. Neither of them said anything.
He held out a slice of pizza. “Here.”
“Later. I’m not hungry.” Megumi gently pushed his hand away.
Yuji looked at Nobara. “Did you see that? Fushiguro refusing food.”
“I told you, he looks sick,” She said, eyeing Megumi.
“I’m just tired,” Megumi muttered. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”
Yuji leaned in and pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re warm.”
Megumi swatted him away. “Shut up. Let’s just watch.”
In the end, they gave in to Nobara’s movie choice, a romantic comedy.
It wasn’t bad. They found themselves laughing, occasionally commenting, and throwing snacks at each other. The room felt smaller somehow, warmer, despite the bright afternoon light spilling in from the windows.
The glow from the screen flickered across Megumi’s face.
At some point, he’d gone quiet.
His shoulders had slumped into the sofa. His head tilted slightly to the side. One hand rested loosely against his chest, rising and falling in slow, even breaths.
“Kugisaki,” Yuji whispered after a while, “I think Fushiguro fell asleep.”
She glanced over at him.
“Let him.”
Yuji adjusted his position on the floor, reaching for another handful of snacks without taking his eyes off the movie. The laughter track filled the room again, blending with the low hum of the air conditioner.
Time passed.
The credits rolled.
“That was actually good,” Nobara said, stretching her arms above her head.
“And the actors were good-looking,” Yuji added.
“I agree.”
She headed to the kitchen. “I need water.”
Yuji stretched and pushed himself up from the floor, stepping around the table to follow her. His knee bumped lightly against Megumi’s arm.
“Sorry—” he muttered automatically, reaching down to steady him.
He paused.
Yuji frowned and shifted his grip, pressing his palm briefly against Megumi’s forehead.
“Uh… Kugisaki,”
Something in his voice shifted.
“I think something’s wrong with Fushiguro.”
He touched Megumi’s forehead again then his hand.
“He’s burning. And he’s sweating.”
“Seriously?” Nobara rushed over and pressed her palm to Megumi’s neck. “Oh my God. You’re right.”
“Fushiguro,” Yuji patted his cheek gently. “Hey.”
No response.
Nobara started opening drawers.
“Do you think he has fever medicine?”
“I don’t know—check over there.”
“Fushiguro.”
Yuji shook him slightly. “Hey. Wake up.”
Megumi stirred faintly. His brow furrowed, eyes still closed.
“I think he’s waking up—”
“H—hurts…”
His voice was barely audible.
“It hurts.”
His hand lifted weakly, fingers searching.
“What do you need? What hurts?” Yuji grabbed his hand immediately.
Megumi groaned softly.
His head felt like it was splitting open, a sharp pressure building behind his eyes. His ears rang loudly, drowning everything else out. He didn’t have the strength to open them.
“Goj—”
His voice was hoarse. Barely audible.
“What? Fushiguro, I can’t hear you.” Yuji leaned closer.
From the kitchen, Nobara called out, “Itadori, there’s nothing here! We should take him to a clinic!”
Megumi’s grip around Yuji’s hand suddenly tightened.
His breathing grew uneven.
“Kugisaki,” Yuji’s voice wavered. “I think— I think he can’t breathe properly.”
He slid an arm behind Megumi’s shoulders, lifting him carefully.
“Hey. Hey. Slow down. It’s okay. Just breathe. Breathe.”
Megumi didn’t respond.
Tears slipped quietly from the corners of his closed eyes.
Yuji’s stomach dropped.
“Kugisaki… this is bad.”
“I’m calling Ieiri-san.” Nobara pulled out her phone with shaking hands.
The call connected after two rings.
“Nobara-chan?”
“Ieiri-san, sorry for calling so suddenly.”
“It’s fine. What happened?”
“Fushiguro’s sick. Are you at the clinic right now? We’ll bring him there.”
“Megumi? I’m outside now.”
“He has a really high fever. For about two hours—ah, actually, I’m not sure. He said he couldn’t sleep last night.” Nobara glanced at Yuji. Their eyes met—panic mirrored on both sides.
“He can’t breathe properly,” Nobara said quickly.
“Is Gojo there?”
“Gojo-sensei? He’s still overseas on duty.”
“…Oh. Right.” A pause. “That’s not good.”
“Why—”
The front door slammed open.
Both Yuji and Nobara flinched.
“Gojo-sensei?!”
Gojo stood in the doorway, slightly disheveled, breath uneven. His clothes were rumpled like he hadn’t bothered fixing them. He wasn’t wearing his blindfold. Or his glasses.
His eyes were wide, uncovered and panicked. He scanned the room.
“Sensei?” Yuji blinked. “You’re back?”
He crossed the distance in a few strides and dropped to his knees beside them. Yuji instinctively shifted back as Gojo slid an arm beneath Megumi and pulled him carefully against his chest.
Only then did Yuji notice it.
Gojo was sweating.
“Sensei…”
From the phone, Shoko’s voice cut in, “Is he there?”
“Yes,” Nobara answered quietly. “He just—showed up.”
“Good. I’ll be there soon.”
The call ended.
Gojo brushed damp strands of hair away from Megumi’s forehead, pressing his palm there gently.
“Megumi,” he said softly.
No response.
“Megumi.”
“D… Dad?”
The word was barely there.
Gojo’s arms tightened instantly.
“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He pulled Megumi closer, pressing his cheek against his hair, one hand firm against his back.
“Dad…”
“Yes. I’ve got you.”
Slowly, Megumi’s breathing began to steady.
Only then did Gojo’s.
Yuji and Nobara stood frozen.
“Yuji,” Gojo said quietly, without looking up. “Can you get some water?”
“Y-Yes, sensei.”
Gojo helped Megumi drink slowly, supporting him carefully.
“He’ll be fine,” Gojo said at last, glancing at the two of them. “You can relax.”
Yuji and Nobara exhaled at the same time.
“Sensei,” she asked, “weren’t you supposed to come back next week?”
“It finished early.”
“And how did you know we were here?” Yuji asked. “You know this apartment?”
Gojo smiled faintly.
“I know where all my students live.”
Yuji blinked. He found himself staring at the way Gojo’s fingers were slightly trembling where they rested against Megumi’s shoulder.
Just barely.
“But sensei… you look pale. And you’re sweating.”
“Ah—really?” Gojo wiped his forehead casually.
“Sensei, your eyes are red…”
“I’m fine.”
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a card.
“Yuji, Nobara—could you two buy something for me?”
“Of course! What is it?”
“You know the soup stand near our school? The one by the roadside.”
“Fushiguro’s favorite?” Nobara asked.
“Yes.”
“Two portions,” Gojo said. “And get something for yourselves too.”
He handed the card to Nobara.
“Okay, sensei.”
Nobara grabbed Yuji’s arm and pulled him toward the door.
“B-But Fushiguro—”
“Itadori,” she whispered, glancing back once. “It’s okay, sensei’s here.”
The air felt heavier when the apartment door closed behind them.
Nobara was still holding Gojo’s card, her fingers unconsciously tracing the embossed letters. Their steps slowed as they reached the front of the building.
“I’m still in shock,” Yuji admitted, pressing a hand to his chest.
Nobara let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Yeah. Same.”
“That escalated way too fast.”
“Right?”
A beat of silence passed.
“I’ve never seen sensei like that,”
“Like what?”
“…Scared.”
Gojo had always felt unshakeable. Like the world itself would have to apologize before daring to inconvenience him.
But earlier, he hadn’t seemed that way.
“Do you think Fushiguro is his favorite?” Nobara asked suddenly.
Yuji blinked. “That came out of nowhere.”
“Answer.”
“…Yeah.”
They both laughed, tension loosening just a little.
“He’s known him longer,” He added. “That’s probably why.”
“I think it’s because Fushiguro’s better than us.”
“What? No way,” Yuji protested. “I’m stronger than him.”
“In your dreams.” She smacked his hand.
“Why? My punches are objectively superior.”
“My technique is objectively cooler,” She replied.
“My attitude is better, too,” Yuji added. “He’s always grumpy.”
They burst out laughing.
“But,” Nobara admitted, “he is smarter than us.”
Yuji groaned. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll give him that.”
They hailed a taxi and got in. The ride would take about fifteen minutes.
The engine hummed as the taxi merged into traffic. The heater was set slightly too warm. A soft voice murmured from the radio.
For a while, they just watched the city blur past the windows.
“He called sensei Dad.” Yuji said quietly.
Nobara turned her head.
“Do you think Fushiguro misses his dad?”
“No. That’s not what I mean.” Yuji frowned. “Do you think Gojo-sensei is his dad?”
“What?!” she hissed.
“You saw the way Sensei answered him.”
“That’s just how he is. He treats all of us like we’re his kids.”
“I know. But Fushiguro wouldn’t just call anyone Dad.”
“He had a high fever, Itadori. You’ve never said weird things when you’re sick?”
The taxi passed under an overpass. Shadows swallowed the car for a moment before light returned through the windshield.
Yuji watched the reflection of the sky flicker across the glass.
If Gojo-sensei really was something like a father to Fushiguro…
That wasn’t strange, was it?
Sensei showed up. Paid for meals. Complained loudly, but handled everything in the end. Took hits without making it a big deal.
Yuji didn’t have parents to compare it to.
But it didn’t feel wrong.
“…Right,” he said softly.
Silence settled again.
“Sensei looks way too young to have kids our age,” Nobara said. “He’s probably still in his twenties.”
“Do you think it was teen pregnancy?”
“Itadori!” Nobara smacked the back of his head.
“Ow!” Yuji rubbed it. “You never know! Sensei probably had a wild past.”
“So now you think he has a secret wife we don’t know about?”
“I’m scared to imagine that.” Yuji covered his face dramatically.
Nobara hit him again. “I know you’re dumb. I didn’t know you were this dumb.”
“Stop hitting me!”
Nobara rolled her eyes but her thoughts drifted back anyway.
Gojo-sensei, someone’s father?
The man was unserious half the time. He teased them constantly and treated missions like field trips.
But…
He was always there.
She remembered the way he had carried Fushiguro earlier.
He hadn’t laughed when he called him Dad.
Not embarrassed. Not joking.
Maybe being a “dad” wasn’t about age. Maybe it was about showing up. About staying.
Her fingers tightened around her sleeve.
If that was the case…
Then maybe it wasn’t that strange after all.
She clicked her tongue, brushing the thought aside.
Still.
If Fushiguro was gaining extra points just by saying one word first—
That was unfair.
Her eyes sharpened again.
“I know why Fushiguro calls him ‘Dad.’”
“What?”
“What if that’s how he made Gojo-sensei like him more? By calling him Dad?”
Yuji froze.
“…Wait. That actually makes sense.”
“We should start calling Gojo-sensei Dad too.”
“Yeah. Starting now.”
They both nodded seriously.
The taxi driver, who had been pretending not to listen this entire time, visibly stiffened in the front seat.
A few seconds passed.
Then Yuji snorted.
Nobara pressed her lips together.
And just like that, the seriousness collapsed.
They weren’t actually going to do it.
…Probably.
Still, the idea lingered in the air—half joke, half curiosity.
What would Gojo-sensei do?
Laugh? Cry fake tears? Turn it into a whole dramatic performance?
Nobara could already picture him clutching his chest and declaring himself the proudest father alive.
Yuji would absolutely commit to the bit.
She almost smiled.
The taxi turned another corner.
The streets outside were starting to look familiar, which meant they were almost there. The three of them came to this area often—after missions, sometimes just for lunch or dinner. They never ate separately. Even if they wanted different things, they’d go to both places instead of splitting up.
She suddenly remembered something and grabbed her phone.
“Why? Why?”
“Wait—” she gestured for him to be quiet.
Yuji nodded and watched her seriously.
The call connected after a few rings.
“Ieiri-san…”
“Yes, Nobara-chan?”
“Sorry, I forgot to give you Fushiguro’s address earlier.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m already here.”
“Huh? That was fast!”
“Nobara-chan, can you buy some sweets on the way back? A lot of them.”
“Sweets?”
“Anything is fine. Chocolate, ice cream, mochi… whatever they have. You’re using Gojo’s card, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Okay. See you later.”
The call ended.
Nobara stared at her phone.
“Wow… other people already know Fushiguro’s address. We’re probably the last ones.”
“Maybe the teachers have all our addresses,” Yuji said casually.
“My house is in the countryside,” She replied. “What about you?”
“The dorm.”
“That’s what I meant. We basically don’t have homes outside the dorm.”
“I mean… there’s my grandpa’s place. Sensei picked me up from there once.”
“Oh.”
They fell quiet again.
Nobara leaned back in her seat, watching the city slide past the window. They had only been a team for a few months. Not even a year.
It was strange how quickly that turned into something steady for her.
Itadori was loud and ridiculous. Fushiguro was impossible to read most of the time.
She glanced at Yuji, who was staring out the window with his usual absentminded expression.
They were still new at this.
Still figuring each other out.
“Itadori,”
“Hm?”
“Let’s take Fushiguro—and sensei too. Halloween’s coming up. There’ll be events all over the city. It’ll be fun!”
Yuji’s face lit up immediately. “I love that! That’s a great idea! We haven’t hung out with Gojo-sensei in forever!”
Nobara nodded.
Leaving her village might have been the best decision she’d ever made.
A glittering city. New things to try. People to explore it with.
Yeah.
This wasn’t so bad at all.
The faint scent of antiseptic followed Shoko as she stepped inside.
She set her bag down calmly and crouched beside the sofa.
“You teleported here?” she asked quietly.
Gojo didn’t answer.
She checked Megumi’s pulse first. Then his breathing. Then she placed her palm lightly against his chest and closed her eyes.
A thin thread of energy shimmered faintly beneath her touch.
Gojo’s jaw tightened.
“Is this because his last mission?” Gojo asked, his eyes worried.
“No.”
Silence filled the apartment.
“You were overseas for how long?” she asked.
“Two—three weeks.”
“And you slept?”
Gojo didn’t answer.
Shoko exhaled slowly.
“Satoru.”
He didn’t look at her.
Shoko stepped closer and pressed two fingers against his wrist.
Gojo instinctively pulled back. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
His cursed energy felt jagged.
“You’re exhausted.”
He went still.
“And you’ve been worrying the entire time.”
Gojo didn’t answer.
“You weren’t supposed to be back for another week.”
“It was faster to just clear it all at once.” he replied.
She could feel it clearly now.
The fluctuations weren’t random. They matched.
Gojo and Megumi.
“When you overstrain like that, your cursed energy destabilizes. When that happens…”
She glanced toward Megumi.
“…he reacts.”
Gojo frowned. “Megumi caught a fever.”
“No,” Shoko corrected quietly. “Megumi’s body reacts when your baseline shifts.”
He stared at her.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
She met his eyes steadily.
“When he was ten,” she continued. “And again at twelve. And last year...”
Gojo’s expression didn’t change.
But something behind his eyes did.
“He’s not consciously aware of it,” Shoko added. “Neither are you.”
She sighed.
“You raised him inside your technique field. You shielded him with your energy for years. You reinforced that pattern.”
Another quiet stretch of air.
“You’re his stability. And when you destabilize…”
She didn’t need to finish. Her gaze softened.
Gojo looked toward Megumi.
“…He shouldn’t have to deal with my mistakes.”
“He’s not dealing with your mistakes,” Shoko replied. “He’s mirroring your condition.”
“I thought something bad had happened,” He replied, lowering his gaze.
She sighed.
“Right now,” she continued, pressing her hand lightly to his forehead, “you’re worse than he is.”
He almost laughed.
“You’ve got a fever too.”
Gojo swayed slightly.
Just barely.
Shoko caught it.
Gojo looked down at his hands.
They were still slightly trembling.
“… What do I do?”
“Lie down,” she said. “Get some sleep.”
Gojo lowered himself beside Megumi carefully not to jostle him, the sofa dipping slightly under his weight.
“And Megumi?” he asked quietly.
“Megumi will be fine if you are fine,” Shoko replied.
Gojo exhaled slowly. His gaze softened as he looked at the boy beside him.
Shoko watched the two of them.
“Now you can hug your son,” she said. “Please rest.”
Gojo didn’t argue.
He shifted slightly closer, careful despite his exhaustion, and draped an arm loosely around Megumi.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Megumi’s breathing changed.
Just slightly.
His shoulders, which had been tense even in sleep, eased under Gojo’s arm. His body tilted instinctively toward the warmth.
Shoko felt the shift immediately.
The jagged edges in Gojo’s cursed energy began to smooth. The unstable rhythm settled. The two currents aligned, not perfectly, but enough.
“There,” she murmured. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”
Gojo didn’t answer.
He was already asleep.
The door unlocked with a soft click.
“We’re back,” Yuji called as he stepped inside, slipping off his shoes. “Sensei…”
No response.
“Gojo-sensei, the soup’s probably cold again. If you want to eat later, we can heat it up—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Nobara nearly bumped into him.
“What?”
Shoko was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“Oh. Yuji-kun. Nobara-chan.”
“Ieiri-san,” they greeted in unison, bowing slightly.
“Just put everything in the fridge,” Shoko said calmly.
On the sofa, Gojo was asleep.
Megumi was too.
They stepped closer.
Megumi’s face was pale, but no longer flushed with fever.
Gojo’s arm was still loosely wrapped around him.
Yuji tilted his head.
“Sensei is… sleeping?”
“He has a fever,” Shoko replied.
Yuji’s eyes widened.
“What—”
“Lower your voice,” Nobara hissed.
Yuji immediately clamped both hands over his mouth.
Nobara studied the scene more carefully.
“…Since when does he get sick?”
Yuji crouched near the sofa, staring.
“Sensei looks thinner.”
“He is.”
Nobara noticed. Her gaze sharpened.
“…This isn’t just a normal fever, is it?”
Shoko met her eyes briefly.
“No.”
Silence settled between them.
Yuji swallowed.
“Should we… move him? The sofa’s kinda small. What if sensei falls?”
“No,” Shoko replied. “If you separate them right now, the fever will spike again.”
“…What?” Yuji asked softly.
Shoko took a slow sip of her coffee.
“Let them sleep.”
Yuji shifted uneasily.
“Ieiri-san.”
Shoko glanced at him. “Yeah?”
“…What did you mean? About separating them?”
She was quiet for a moment, considering.
“It’s complicated,” she said finally. “And not something you need to worry about right now.”
Nobara crossed her arms. “That doesn’t make it less concerning.”
Shoko gave her a smile.
“If it were dangerous, I wouldn’t be sitting here drinking coffee.”
That made Yuji pause.
“…So Fushiguro’s okay?”
“He will be,” Shoko said gently. “His fever already gone down.”
Yuji visibly relaxed a little.
“And Sensei?”
Nobara’s gaze lingered on Gojo.
“I think Sensei’s just… really tired.”
Shoko nodded. “He is.”
She set her cup down.
“You two should head home,” Shoko added. “They might not wake up until tonight. Or even tomorrow.”
Yuji shook his head immediately.
“We were planning to stay over.”
Nobara nodded. “In case Gojo-sensei left earlier and Fushiguro was alone.”
“He won’t be alone,” she said quietly. “Gojo’s not going anywhere.”
“Still,” Yuji insisted, rubbing the back of his neck. “We want to be here.”
Shoko studied them for a moment.
Then she gave a small, approving hum.
“…Alright.”
She stood and walked toward the kitchen.
“Have you two eaten?”
Nobara followed her. “Yeah. With Sensei’s money.” She smirked faintly. “We also bought what you asked for, Ieiri-san.”
Shoko shook her head as she opened the fridge.
“That wasn’t for me. It’s for Gojo.”
“Oh.”
“But we can eat some,” she added lightly. “Come on. Ice cream.”
“Yes!”
Yuji and Nobara immediately moved to the small pantry counter and climbed onto the stools.
Shoko handed them each a spoon.
“For the record,” Nobara said as she accepted the cup, “if he wakes up and complains—”
“I’ll prescribe him bed rest,” Shoko replied smoothly.
Yuji grinned. “Scary.”
From the living room, the apartment remained quiet.
After a moment, Yuji glanced toward the sofa.
“They’re really not moving.”
Shoko leaned back slightly against the counter.
Nobara scooped another bite, but her eyes drifted the same way.
“He looks different when he’s not talking.”
Shoko’s lips curved faintly.
“Yeah. Rare occasion.”
Yuji nudged his cup closer to Nobara.
She immediately scooped a generous bite from his side.
“Hey!”
“You weren’t eating it.”
“I was saving that!”
“For what? A memorial?”
“That was the best part!”
Nobara leaned away as Yuji tried to steal it back, their stools nearly knocking together.
“Stop shaking the counter!”
“You started it!”
Their whispers dissolved into hushed complaints and muffled laughter as they wrestled over the spoon.
Thankfully, the apartment didn’t feel tense. Just warm.
It was a little past three in the morning.
The apartment was dark, washed faintly in streetlight filtering through the curtains.
Megumi woke slowly.
For a moment, he didn’t understand why the couch felt smaller than usual.
Then he felt it.
Warmth at his side.
A steady weight against his body.
He stilled.
White hair.
Gojo.
Megumi blinked.
He didn’t remember—
A shift of his eyes revealed more shapes in the dim room.
Two bodies on the floor, tangled in blankets.
Yuji’s arm flung out dramatically.
Nobara curled on her side, clutching most of the pillow.
Megumi frowned faintly.
“…What.”
“You’re awake.”
The voice was quiet but immediate.
Megumi’s head turned.
Shoko sat in the armchair across from the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. The light from her phone dimmed as she lowered it.
“Shoko-san?”
Megumi pushed himself up slightly, careful not to disturb the weight beside him.
“…Why are they here?”
“They refused to leave,” Shoko replied calmly. “Said you might wake up alone.”
Megumi glanced down.
Gojo was still asleep.
Breathing even.
Not moving.
A crease formed between Megumi’s brows.
“…What happened?” he muttered.
Shoko hummed lightly.
Instead of answering, she stood and walked over, stopping beside the sofa.
Her eyes rested on him, observant.
“How do you feel?”
Megumi hesitated.
“Dizzy?”
“A little.”
She crouched slightly so she was more level with him.
“Headache?”
Megumi thought about it.
“…Not really.”
“Good.”
Megumi swallowed.
“Did I pass out?”
“Yes.” Shoko replied.
Megumi’s gaze shifted to the arm wrapped around him.
“Why is Gojo here?”
His voice was low. Confused.
Shoko followed his line of sight.
“He came back,” she said. “His mission ended earlier than expected.”
Megumi shifted slightly under the weight.
“Do you want to sit up?” Shoko asked.
She gently lifted Gojo’s arm from Megumi and guided it down onto the couch.
Megumi pushed himself upright slowly.
Gojo stirred at the loss of warmth, brow faintly creasing but he didn’t wake.
The room stayed quiet.
Megumi frowned faintly.
“…Why.”
Shoko looked at him for a moment.
“Did he come back because of me?”
She smiled. “Probably.”
She handed him a glass of water.
Megumi accepted it, drinking slowly. The confusion hadn’t left his face, but something softer had slipped in underneath it.
“Try to sleep again,” she said gently.
From the floor, Yuji mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and turned over, stealing more of the blanket from Nobara.
Megumi glanced at the clock.
“…Three?”
Shoko nodded.
Megumi pushed the blanket aside.
“Shoko-san… sorry for the trouble. You should rest.”
She shook her head.
“It’s not trouble, Megumi.”
“You can sleep in Gojo’s room if you want.”
“I’m fine,” she replied lightly, studying him. “Where are you going?”
Megumi stood slowly, steadying himself.
“The bathroom.”
Shoko watched the way he moved.
“Alright,” she said. “Be careful.”
Megumi closed the bathroom door behind him and turned off the light.
The faint glow from his bedroom window left the room in soft shadows.
“Are you okay?”
Megumi startled and turned sharply.
Yuji was sitting on his bed, hair messy, eyes half-open.
“…Yes. Why are you awake?”
Yuji let himself fall backward onto the mattress.
“It’s cold in the living room,” he mumbled, stretching his arms out. “Whoa… this is way softer.”
Megumi just stared at him.
“Fushiguro,” Yuji called lazily. “Come here.”
Megumi stepped closer, wary.
Yuji had already closed his eyes. His lips moved like he was saying something, but the words blurred together as sleep dragged him under.
“What did you say?” Megumi leaned in slightly.
He barely had time to react before his body dropped onto the mattress.
“What—”
He turned his head.
Nobara stood there, hair disheveled, expression heavy with sleep.
“Wow,” she muttered. “You two just left me on the floor.”
She shoved Megumi once more and climbed onto the bed.
Before he could protest, they had boxed him in.
“Hey—”
Nobara tugged the blanket up to her chin.
“It’s warmer here,” she mumbled.
Megumi tried to shift, attempting to sit up.
“Don’t move, I’ll fall,” Nobara complained, smacking his chest lightly.
Megumi froze.
Yuji adjusted instinctively, draping an arm over him without even waking fully.
Now both of them were half on top of him.
Megumi stared up at the ceiling.
“Unbelievable.”
Their breathing evened out within seconds.
They were asleep again.
Just like that.
Megumi let out a quiet exhale.
A small smile tugged at his lips, almost a laugh. He didn’t understand why he let them get away with this. Why it didn’t annoy him as much as it should.
The room settled into silence again.
Megumi’s eyes slowly closed.
And before long, he drifted back to sleep.
Morning came quietly.
A thin line of sunlight slipped past the curtains and stretched across the living room floor.
Shoko stirred when she felt someone adjusting the blanket over her shoulders.
Her eyes opened slowly—
Then widened.
Light.
Actual morning light.
She pushed herself upright a little too fast.
“What time is it?”
Gojo was standing beside the couch. He had already changed. A black sweater hung loosely on him, slightly oversized.
“Relax,” he said gently. “It’s not that late.”
She reached for her phone on instinct. The screen lit up.
8:17 AM.
Shoko exhaled sharply.
“I have work.”
She stood, fingers combing through her tangled hair before gathering it into a loose ponytail, wincing slightly as she pulled it tight.
“You should’ve gone home yesterday.” he said.
She moved toward him.
“Hold still.”
He obeyed without commentary. Her palm pressed lightly against his forehead.
Still warm.
Not as bad as last night.
Her fingers slid briefly to his neck to check his pulse.
Steady.
“You’re better,” she said. “But not fine. Come to my clinic tonight.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Shoko blinked once, caught slightly off guard.
“For what?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Supervising.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re dramatic.”
A soft chuckle escaped him as he began folding the blanket neatly.
“The kids?” Shoko asked, adjusting her sleeve.
“They’re still asleep.”
“Okay.” She lifted her phone, using the front camera as a mirror, inspecting the faint shadows under her eyes.
“I think you need to wash your face,”
“Is it that bad?” she asked, turning to him with a tired squint.
Gojo nodded once, solemnly.
She sighed.
“I’ll use your bathroom.”
She headed toward his room, rushed.
“Take it slow. I’ll call Ijichi to pick you up!” Gojo called after her.
Another bedroom door slid open down the hall. Yuji stepped out first, hair sticking up in impossible directions.
“Morning…”
He froze when he saw Gojo standing there.
“…Sensei?”
Behind him, Nobara emerged, stretching.
“Oh sensei! You’re alive.”
Megumi appeared last.
His gaze went straight to Gojo.
Gojo smiled at them, lifting a hand casually.
“Good morning, my favorite students!”
Yuji stepped closer.
“Sensei, are you still sick?”
Gojo shook his head immediately.
“You look terrible,” Nobara said without hesitation.
“Rude,” Gojo pouted, hand over his chest as if offended.
Megumi moved closer.
“What happened?”
“Gojo-sensei had a fever last night,” Yuji said.
“What?”
Megumi’s head snapped toward Gojo.
Their eyes met.
And for a brief second—
Gojo felt it again.
That quiet, sharp awareness.
He wondered, absurdly, if Shoko had been right.
If Megumi really did feel it.
He dreaded the thought of Megumi getting hurt because of him.
“Breakfast!”
He suddenly announced loudly, clapping his hands once to cut the tension. He turned and walked toward the pantry.
“Do you like fried rice? This handsome Gojo-sensei will cook!”
He moved with exaggerated energy, grabbing a pan.
Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look before sitting at the table.
“Wait,” Megumi said, stepping forward. “Sensei is sick?”
“Fushiguro, you need to know what happened last night,” Nobara cut in.
“It was kind of dramatic,” Yuji added thoughtfully.
Gojo glanced at them.
There was a flicker of panic in his expression.
“Gojo!” Shoko’s voice called out from inside the room. “Can you bring my bag here?”
Gojo moved immediately. “Coming!”
He grabbed Shoko’s bag, then abruptly placed it into Nobara’s hands instead.
“Please give this to Shoko.”
He nudged Nobara lightly, clearly trying to interrupt whatever was about to be said.
“It’s in that room,” Gojo added, pointing down the hallway.
Nobara did as she was told and walked into the room.
She knocked lightly on the bathroom door before pushing it open just enough to step in and hand the bag over.
“Thank you, Nobara-chan.”
The bathroom door closed again.
Nobara turned to leave—
But something on the wall caught her eye.
Photo frames.
She slowed down.
A small Megumi stared back at her from the first one. He looked stiff even as a child, dark hair messy, eyes already serious. He couldn’t have been more than elementary school age.
Nobara smiled faintly.
“So you were cute, huh…”
Next to it was another picture, Megumi standing beside a girl in front of a Christmas tree.
That must be Tsumiki.
The lights behind them glowed warmly. Tsumiki was smiling brightly. Megumi looked awkward, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
There were more photos lined up along the wall.
Megumi in a school uniform.
Megumi at a playground,
Megumi beside a snowman, he smiled.
Nobara’s lips curved.
Then her eyes stopped on another frame.
Wait.
Gojo-sensei?
She leaned in closer.
It was Gojo, clearly younger. No blindfold. Just a relaxed smile. He was carrying a sleeping Megumi in his arms. Tsumiki was holding his hand.
Nobara stared at it a little longer than she expected to.
There was another one, Gojo taking a selfie with Tsumiki, both of them leaning into the frame. Tsumiki looked happy. So did Gojo.
And then a few more pictures, Gojo, Shoko, and a tall young man with long hair standing beside them. They looked younger too.
Nobara’s eyes widened as something suddenly clicked.
She slowly looked around the room.
Gojo’s glasses were placed neatly on the bedside table.
His usual jujutsu uniform was hanging in front of the closet.
Her head snapped back toward the photos.
This—
This was Gojo’s room.
What the hell.
“Itadori!” she shouted. “Itadori, come here!”
Fast footsteps approached. Yuji appeared first, with Megumi right behind him. They stopped at the doorway.
“What?” Yuji asked.
Nobara, still visibly shocked, pointed at the photo frames on the wall without saying a word.
Yuji walked closer. Megumi followed their gaze to the photos. His shoulders tensed slightly.
Yuji's eyes widened.
Then he slowly turned to look at Nobara.
“You’re right… it was teen pregnancy…” she said.
Megumi couldn’t believe what he just heard.
“WHAT?!”