Work Text:
The end of a school day always felt like a zoo, with kids running in every direction in search of their parents or siblings, excited to finally go home. Megumi learned to wait out the crowd, only leaving once the majority of the students were gone, which usually took around twenty minutes, give or take. It made navigating the school yard easier, and it wasn't as if anyone was ever waiting for him. Even on days like today, when Gojo was supposed to pick Megumi up from school, it was always Megumi who sat around waiting. No matter how many times Gojo promised he'd be on time, Megumi knew better.
Gojo was chronically late to everything.
Megumi bet he'd be the kind of person to show up late to his own funeral. It was annoying on a good day, but that day, Megumi was especially done with Gojo's inability to manage his time. The night prior, Megumi had already begun showing signs of a cold—subtle things like constant sniffling and sneezing, as well as a lack of appetite. Throughout the day, Megumi had been getting progressively sicker. It started as a simple sore throat before turning into harsh coughing fits and watery eyes. When he wasn't hacking up a lung, Megumi struggled to stay awake and focus on his schoolwork. The last hour of school had been spent napping in the nurse's office after Megumi convinced them not to call Gojo—claiming he'd be too busy and that it was only an hour anyway.
As Megumi settled down on a bench not far from the school's front gate, he began regretting that decision. Maybe Gojo would have actually shown up on time for once, and Megumi wouldn't be stuck waiting in the cold. It was probably how Megumi caught a cold in the first place. Shrugging off his backpack, Megumi set it down beside him. He debated pulling out one of the books he'd checked out from the school's library the other day, but decided against it. As bored as he was, Megumi was also far too tired to concentrate. All he wanted was to go home and sleep.
A cold breeze swept through the street, and Megumi zipped up his coat as high as it would go before sinking down, the collar covering half of his face. The cold made it harder for Megumi to keep his eyes open, the light breeze stinging his eyes. Eventually, Megumi gave up trying to keep them open. It wasn't like he wouldn't know when Gojo finally arrived. He could sense Gojo's cursed energy from a good few blocks away, long before he actually caught sight of him.
Megumi wasn't sure how much time passed like that, but the longer he sat there, the quieter it became as the last few students finally left with their parents. Just as Megumi was starting to nod off, he was suddenly plucked from the bench and held firmly against someone's chest. Megumi struggled to rouse himself awake, his half-hearted complaint coming out mumbled and incoherent. Before the panic could settle in, a hand found its way into Megumi's hair—keeping his head nestled in the crook of their neck—as Gojo's voice sounded from somewhere close enough to tickle Megumi's ear.
"Sorry I'm late, buddy."
Of course, Gojo would show up just as Megumi had let his guard down. Knowing him, Gojo probably did it on purpose. Megumi hated being carried around like a baby, and Gojo knew that. Not that it ever stopped him from trying.
"Always late…" Megumi grumbled, his body going lax as Gojo started walking away from the school.
"I'll make it up to you…promise," Gojo said. Something about his voice was strange, but Megumi couldn't put a finger on why that was. Maybe he caught a cold as well. "Get some rest. I've got you—you're not going anywhere."
If Gojo hadn't been so late and Megumi so damn tired, Megumi might have argued with him—given him a piece of his mind. Only, that would have ended badly for Megumi's throat, which promptly reminded him how sick he was. Megumi's entire body shook as he coughed for a solid straight minute. The coughing fit left him out of breath, his nose now running and getting all over Gojo's shoulder.
"Sorry…" Megumi managed to breathe out, his eyelids fluttering closed.
"No worries, buddy. Let's get you home quickly."
Megumi hummed in agreement as he cracked his eyes open. They had already made it a couple of blocks away from the school when Megumi spotted a familiar face hovering near the bench. Ijichi—Gojo's coworker, who sometimes picked him up when Gojo couldn't make it. What was he doing there? That's when Ijichi picked something up off the bench. Megumi's backpack—Gojo had left it behind when he grabbed Megumi. It had all of his homework.
"My backpack."
"Backpack…oh, right."
At the same time Gojo turned to look back, Ijichi glanced in their direction. Even from that distance, Megumi could see Ijichi's eyes widen, his hand immediately reaching for something in his pocket. Before Megumi had time to register what was happening, Gojo had turned down a side street and was booking it across the pavement. Megumi held on to Gojo's shirt as he was jostled around.
Did Gojo and Ijichi have a fight or something? It wouldn't surprise Megumi in the slightest. Anytime Gojo's name was brought up around Ijichi, the man sounded exasperated, and don't even get him started on the times Gojo had called mid-drive home. It was fifty-fifty as to whether Ijichi actually answered the phone or ignored Gojo completely. Megumi preferred when he ignored him, as it spared him from having to hear Gojo's annoying voice crackling over the speaker. Knowing Gojo, he probably forgot that he'd called Ijichi to pick Megumi up and was trying to avoid that conversation.
Thankfully, Gojo slowed down after weaving his way through a crowd of people and turning down another side street. His hold on Megumi was firmer, like he was afraid of accidentally dropping him. Despite having slowed down, Gojo was still walking pretty briskly and muttering under his breath. Something about it being too easy. His muttering earned them a few looks. A woman with two little kids of her own seemed particularly concerned as she stopped and watched them disappear up a flight of stairs.
Megumi was used to it. Most of the time, Gojo didn't even need to do anything particularly weird to gain attention. His looks and tall frame were often enough to garner a few looks. It didn't help either that Gojo was barely an adult himself, making the fact that he had a kid who looked nothing like him a little strange. Hell, it took some convincing for Megumi's teacher to finally believe that Gojo was, in fact, Megumi's legal guardian and not just some creep. Surprisingly, Gojo never seemed bothered by it.
Megumi nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the telltale hissing of a train as it pulled into a station. He barely had time to take in the fact that they were at Saitama-Shintoshin Station before Gojo rushed onto the train. When Megumi tried lifting his head to get a better look, Gojo used the hand still buried in Megumi's hair to hold his head down. Megumi tried to complain, but was abruptly cut off by another severe coughing fit. It was worse than the last, leaving Megumi gasping for air by the time it cleared.
He could hear the other passengers on the train whispering about him, their tones making it clear they weren't too thrilled to be near a sick kid. The tips of Megumi's ears burned as he buried his face in the soft fabric of Gojo's shoulder. Hesitantly, Gojo moved his hand from Megumi's hair to his back and began gently rubbing circles into it. Megumi hated how much he enjoyed it—he hated being sick.
The train departed the station shortly after, Megumi lifting his head just enough to watch through half-lidded eyes as the city flew by in a blur. At some point, Megumi fell asleep, startling awake at the sound of the train pulling into the next station. Megumi glanced tiredly around the station as Gojo quickly departed the train, rushing through the crowd. He didn't know what station they were at, unable to find a name. It didn't look familiar, and Megumi wondered if Gojo had brought him to Tokyo.
Regardless, Megumi just wanted to go home. He was exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as the bright lights of the station caused his head to hurt. His nose was completely stuffed up by then, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. Megumi was downright miserable and seconds away from throwing a fit. Gojo would probably give him shit for it, but Megumi didn't care. He was six years old and sick as a dog; he was allowed to throw a fit.
Before Megumi could follow through with it, a wave of cursed energy crashed over him like a tidal wave, the immense strength knocking the air out of his lungs. It flooded the station, causing people to stop and look for something they couldn't see—couldn't explain. Megumi had never felt cursed energy so potent before, and yet, it felt familiar. It took Megumi a second to realize whose energy it was.
"Gojo…"
"Fuck!"
In the blink of an eye, Megumi found himself alone, sitting on an empty bench in the middle of the station. People hurried past, in a rush to catch the next train. A few of them spared Megumi a glance before scuttling on by. Megumi paid them no mind as he glanced around in search of Gojo. It wasn't hard to spot him, his white hair standing out in the crowd. Gojo's cursed energy somehow grew thicker the second he locked eyes with Megumi.
"Megumi!"
For the second time that day, Megumi was plucked from where he sat on a bench, only this time, when Gojo held him, it hurt. Gojo practically crushed him against his chest, his grip on Megumi's shirt nearly tearing the fabric. When Megumi tried squirming out of his grip, Gojo held on tighter.
"Stop it," Megumi complained with a huff.
At the same time, Gojo asked, "Did he hurt you?"
The question caught Megumi off guard, who blinked up at Gojo. "Who?"
A range of emotions flashed across Gojo's face: anger, confusion, and—worst of all—fear. Gojo was never afraid of anything. Is that why Gojo's cursed energy was so strong? He thought Megumi was in danger, but…why? Things were perfectly fine a second ago. Gojo opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off by Megumi, who went into yet another coughing fit.
Megumi's chest ached, his throat raw and scratchy from all the coughing. Disgustingly, his nose was running again and, despite his best efforts, Megumi couldn't stop the tears that followed. He was so over being sick.
Holding him impossibly tighter, Gojo touched the back of his free hand to Megumi's forehead. "Shit, you're burning up, kiddo. That's it, I'm taking you to Shoko. If he did anything to you, she could—"
Megumi shook his head before mumbling, "Home…wanna go home."
"Megumi—"
"'m tired..." Megumi complained, not caring if he sounded like a bratty little kid. "Why can't we go home?"
It was only when Gojo reached up and wiped his face that Megumi realized he was well and truly crying. It earned them more looks, but Megumi couldn't stop even if he wanted to.
"Alright—" Gojo whispered. "—let's get you home, kid."
Gojo sighed as he repositioned Megumi into a hip carry before pulling out his cell phone. Megumi listened as the phone rang, Gojo scowling as it passed the second ring. By the time whoever it was answered, Gojo looked about ready to bite someone's head off.
"Yeah, I got him…No, I think he's fine…sick, but unharmed. Listen—no, you don't need to call him, I—will you shut the hell up for a second!" Gojo snapped, startling a few passersby. Megumi didn't even bat an eye. "Listen, just…come pick us up, alright? We're at Kyoto Station…yes, that Kyoto! Hurry up!"
Snapping his phone shut, Gojo turned his attention back to Megumi, his eyes instantly softening. "Are you certain you're not hurt?"
Megumi shook his head. "…wanna go home."
"Yeah." Gojo chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know. Ijichi should be here soon. He'll take us home."
Megumi hummed as he lay his head against Gojo's shoulder. He'd stopped crying, but his eyes stung, made worse by the bright lights. Gojo took one look at him and carefully placed his glasses on Megumi. Megumi couldn't see anything with them on, but didn't mind. He didn't need to see to feel Gojo's cursed energy wrapped around him like a protective blanket. By the time Ijichi arrived to take them home, Megumi had fallen asleep.
Gojo never explained to Megumi what actually happened that day, and Megumi never thought to question it. Besides, Megumi didn't really remember all that much when it came to that week, as what he thought to be a simple cold turned out to be a terrible case of the flu. He spent all week curled up in bed, battling a fever that wouldn't go down. All Megumi recalls is Gojo's constant presence. He barely left Megumi alone, going as far as to sleep in Megumi's bed despite his protests.
After that day, Gojo was never late in picking Megumi up, his goofy grin the first thing Megumi saw when leaving school. In fact, Gojo became the one constantly complaining about Megumi making him wait—the hypocrisy completely lost on him. Megumi never questioned that, either. As he got older, he began to have his suspicions, and maybe one day he'd finally ask Gojo what actually happened.
Some day.