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Yuuji wakes before his alarm, sunlight just beginning to leak through the thin curtains of his small room. There’s no groaning, no dragging himself out of bed the way most students do on a Wednesday morning. Instead, there’s a quiet kind of excitement. School isn’t something he endures. It’s something he looks forward to… because of Megumi.
The first time he saw him is etched so clearly in Yuuji’s mind that it feels less like a memory and more like a scene from a film he’s replayed too many times to count. It was during the first week of their Freshman year. A crowded classroom buzzing with unfamiliar faces and nervous energy… and then Megumi walked in.
Everything else blurred. Striking green eyes, sharp and unreadable. Hair that refused to be tamed yet somehow suited him perfectly, like it had a personality of its own. His posture was effortless, confident, like he belonged anywhere he decided to stand. Even the way he wore his clothes was clean, expensive, carefully chosen. Yuuji had never seen someone carry themselves like that in real life.
He remembers the exact moment Megumi passed by his desk, the faint scent of something clean and expensive trailing behind him, before taking the seat directly in front of Yuuji.
And just like that, Yuuji’s life split into before and after.
From then on, lectures became background noise. Words from professors faded into a blur as Yuuji’s attention stayed fixed on the back of Megumi’s head; the slight shifts of his shoulders, the way he tilted his head when taking notes, the quiet stillness he carried even in a room full of noise.
It was ridiculous, honestly. They only shared one class, a general requirement every freshman had to take. Once the semester ended, that connection would disappear. Sophomore year would scatter them into different paths, different buildings, different lives.
So Yuuji memorized what little he could. The curve of Megumi’s handwriting when he glimpsed his notes. The rhythm of his breathing when the room fell quiet. The way sunlight caught in his hair near the window.
Months passed like that: silent admiration, unspoken, one-sided. Because starting a conversation? That felt impossible.
Not when Megumi seemed to exist in a completely different world.
It wasn’t just Yuuji who noticed him. Everyone did. From his classmates to upperclassmen, they would glance, linger, whisper when Megumi walked by. In hallways, in the cafeteria, in the courtyard, it didn’t matter. Attention followed him naturally, like gravity. Megumi wasn’t just admired. He was unreachable.
And Yuuji… was just Yuuji.
An orphan raised in a local orphanage. Someone who learned early on that life didn’t hand you things; you held on to whatever little you had and made it enough. The only thing left behind by his grandfather wasn’t money or belongings, but words. Simple, steady, and unshakable: Be a kind person. Yuuji carried that with him like a promise.
The orphanage became more than just a place to stay; it became home. The staff weren’t just caretakers; they were family in every sense that mattered. They gave him time to grieve, space to grow, and warmth when he didn’t know how to ask for it. When he finally found his footing again, he gave back in every way he could. Helping with chores, assisting the younger kids, filling the halls with his laughter until it became something people relied on.
He never wanted to leave. Even when given the chance to be adopted, he chose to stay. Because to him, he already had a family.
School was made possible because of them. So were his part-time jobs, his meals, his future. And everything he did, he did with them in mind. That’s why, when freshman orientation required him to join an organization, he chose something practical: the film org. It didn’t demand too much time. It let him balance school and his responsibilities at the orphanage.
He didn’t expect to fall in love with it. But he did. Movies became an escape, a language, a way of understanding people and emotions he couldn’t always put into words. He started noticing details like lighting, framing, and storytelling. He stayed up late watching films, reading reviews, and diving into discussions. Pop culture opened up an entirely new world for him.
He even made a Letterboxd account, carefully logging every film he watched like a collection of memories.
Still, none of that made it easier to talk to Megumi. Because the more Yuuji learned about him, the wider the distance felt.
It started with curiosity. Just harmless searching, scrolling through social media, piecing together fragments. But what he found only confirmed what he already feared.
Megumi came from a world Yuuji had never even stepped near.
A powerful family with wealth and influence. The kind of life that looked polished and complete from every angle. His father ran a massive business empire. His upbringing was filled with opportunities Yuuji couldn’t even imagine.
And then there were his connections. People whispered about it casually, like it was common knowledge, that one of his godfathers was Gojo Satoru, a celebrity whose name alone carried weight.
Megumi wasn’t just admired for how he looked. He was brilliant. A top-performing veterinary student is already gaining recognition despite being a freshman. Professors spoke highly of him. Students admired him. There were even rumors that he had the potential to become one of the best veterinary surgeons the university had ever produced.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he joined the Mathletes organization.
Yuuji remembers finding that out and just… laughing quietly to himself. Of course he did. Of course, Megumi wasn’t just beautiful. He had to be a genius, too.
It was unfair. And yet… Yuuji couldn’t stop looking. Couldn’t stop noticing. Couldn’t stop hoping, even just a little, that maybe… just maybe… There would be a moment. A chance. Something small that would let their worlds overlap, even briefly.
Because beneath all the admiration, the distance, and the quiet watching, Yuuji didn’t just see Megumi as someone untouchable. He saw someone he wanted to know.
Just Megumi.
The chance came when Yuuji least expected it.
He was, as usual, staring at the familiar silhouette in front of him, tracing the line of Megumi’s shoulders, noting how his once-wild hair seemed slightly more tamed today, how his clothes had shifted to thicker layers now that winter was creeping in. It was such a small detail, but Yuuji held onto it as it mattered.
“Itadori Yuuji!”
The professor’s voice cracked through the room like thunder.
Yuuji jolted upright. “Oh! Y-yes!” He scrambled to his feet so fast his water tumbler tipped off the edge of his desk. He caught it just in time, heart racing, hands fumbling as he shoved his glasses back into place.
“I asked you a question,” the professor said sharply. “What involves both internal self-awareness and responsiveness to the external world?”
Silence.
Yuuji’s mind went blank. Great. Amazing. Perfect.
He hadn’t been listening at all! Too busy noticing Megumi’s stupidly perfect hair and his stupidly perfect winter outfits. Now the entire class was staring at him. He could feel it; dozens of eyes burning into his skin.
And Megumi… Megumi was probably looking too. He must look ridiculous. Like a lost puppy caught in headlights.
“Consciousness.” The word came softly, barely above a whisper.
Yuuji blinked, glancing down, and there he was.
Megumi.
Leaning slightly on his desk, one hand propping up his head, the other shielding part of his face from the professor’s line of sight. But his eyes, those sharp green eyes, were locked onto Yuuji, steady and calm. Helping him.
“C-consciousness!” Yuuji blurted out, louder than necessary.
The professor narrowed his eyes, gaze flickering briefly between Yuuji and Megumi. For a split second, Yuuji was sure they’d been caught.
But then, “Fine. Sit down. And try to stay awake during my lecture.”
Relief flooded through him so fast it made him dizzy. Yuuji dropped back into his seat, hands gripping the edge of his desk as he tried to steady his breathing. His heart was still pounding, but now for a completely different reason.
Megumi talked to him! Megumi noticed him!
The realization hit all at once, crashing over him like a wave. For the rest of the lecture, Yuuji tried, really tried, to focus. He nodded along, scribbled notes, forced himself to look at the board… but his thoughts kept drifting back to Megumi.
When the class finally ended, chairs scraped against the floor as students packed up and filtered out. Yuuji sat frozen for a moment, watching as Megumi slung his bag over his shoulder and stood.
He’s leaving. It’s now or never.
“F-Fushiguro!”, the name slipped out before he could stop it.
For a split second, he regretted it. He could still pretend this never happened. He could still go back to watching from afar.
But no, he owed him. Big Time. And his feeling of appreciation weighed more than anything.
Megumi turned.
And just like that, Yuuji forgot how to breathe.
Up close, it was worse. No, better. Sharper. Realer. The green of his eyes felt deeper somehow, the small crease between his brows giving him a quiet seriousness that made Yuuji’s chest tighten.
“Yes?” Megumi asked, adjusting the strap of his bag.
Keep it together, Yuuji! Say it and be normal.
“I-I just wanted to thank you. Earlier. For… saving me from Mr. Gallagher.” Yuuji stood and bowed instinctively, the gesture coming from somewhere deep and automatic.
Megumi frowned almost immediately. “Hey. That’s nothing. Don’t bow. Just… pay attention next time.”
Yuuji straightened quickly. “Yes! I will! Thank you! Again!”
Yuuji expects that it will be just a short exchange and that Megumi will leave now that the conversation is basically over. But Megumi didn’t move.
He just… looked at him. And Yuuji stood there, completely still, like he’d been turned to stone.
Then Yuuji heard a soft sound. A small laugh.
Megumi reached out to his face, and Yuuji’s breath hitched.
His body froze, rooted to the spot as Megumi’s fingers lightly touched the frame of his glasses, adjusting them, straightening them with careful precision.
Up close, Yuuji could see everything. The warmth hidden under his calm expression and the faint curve of Megumi’s lips as his eyes softened a bit.
“You’re like a puppy,” Megumi murmured.
And then he pulled away, slinging his bag over his shoulder again, walking out of the room with the faintest hint of a smirk.
Yuuji stood there long after he left.
What… just happened?
Did Megumi just call him a puppy?
His face burned so hot he swore he could feel it radiating off his skin. Was that flirting? Did that count as flirting? Who even does that and just walks away like it’s nothing?!
He pressed his hands to his face, trying to calm down. He drops to his seat once again to replay what just happened.
And somehow, that moment changed everything. It started small.
A simple ‘hi’ when one of them arrived first, a quiet ‘hello’ before class began.
Then it became real conversations.
“What did you do last weekend?”
“Did you understand the assignment?”
“Do you want to compare notes?”
Conversations that lingered longer than they needed to.
Until one day, they were sitting together at lunch.
And then they shared their weekends; sitting side by side at Yuuji’s laptop, watching movies, arguing over scenes, laughing at dumb moments, and occasionally falling into comfortable silence. Megumi was then introduced to the local orphanage where Yuuji is staying. He then started helping out during weekends only, as his weekdays are more focused on academics and organizations. Yuuji even went to one of Megumi’s Mathlete competitions to cheer for him.
Yuuji had once thought he’d only ever admire Megumi from a distance. But somehow, impossibly, Megumi stepped closer. Their friendship carried them through freshman year. Then sophomore.
And before Yuuji even realized it, they were here. In their junior year, their relationship has now leveled up to best friends.
And somewhere along the way, Yuuji’s feelings didn’t fade. They actually deepened as he got to know more about Megumi.
And the worst part? Megumi wasn’t oblivious. Yuuji could tell.
In the way Megumi looked at him sometimes, lingering just a second too long. In the way, his tone softened when it was just the two of them. And his small smiles are only directed at Yuuji.
But he still can’t shake off the nervousness. If there was one thing Yuuji learned quickly after getting closer to Megumi, it was that he was far from the only one drawn to him. Megumi had suitors. And there are a lot of them. It wasn’t even subtle.
Some people lingered a little too long after class just to walk beside him, others who conveniently chose seats near him whenever they could, and some bold enough to leave small gifts on his desk: coffee, neatly packed lunches, even handwritten notes slipped between his books. In the hallways, Yuuji would catch whispers, stolen glances, and the occasional outright confession that Megumi would turn down immediately with the same calm, almost indifferent expression. Megumi never entertained any of it, never led anyone on. He never takes it too far for it to become a date. If anything, he seemed mildly inconvenienced by the attention. But that didn’t stop people from trying.
It made an uneasy twist in Yuuji’s chest. It serves as a constant reminder that Megumi wasn’t just someone special to him; he was someone everyone wanted. So Yuuji made a decision. If he couldn’t get rid of these feelings, then he would face them. He might have a small chance after all.
He would court Megumi in his own way. No grand gestures, and not that would overwhelm Megumi. He’ll court him secretly through small and consistent things. And when the time felt right, he would confess. All he needed was the right moment.
One afternoon, while mindlessly scrolling through his phone between classes, Yuuji stumbled upon a post from one of the nearby pubs: a bright, chaotic poster announcing a Trivia Night. Solo players and duos were welcome, and the prizes were ridiculous in the best way: one month of free beer, a set of hilariously tacky trophies, and, most importantly to Yuuji, a live-action figure of Human Earthworm 4.
That alone almost sold him. But more than the prizes, it was the idea of it that made his chest buzz with excitement. A room full of questions about movies, music, and random pop culture facts; the exact things he loved. A space where everything he’d spent years geeking out over actually mattered.
And then, almost immediately, his thoughts went somewhere else. Megumi.
This could be it. A reason–no, an excuse, to ask him to spend time together outside of their usual routine. Not just hanging out or just studying. Something intentional.
Because over the years, Yuuji hadn’t just dragged Megumi into his world of movies and pop culture; he’d shared pieces of himself through it. He talked endlessly, sometimes too much, jumping from one topic to another with unfiltered excitement. And Megumi… always listened. Quietly, patiently, never interrupting, never brushing him off. Yuuji used to think it went in one ear and out the other.
Until one day, Megumi handed him a neatly wrapped box. Inside was a complete DVD collection of Star Wars. Yuuji remembered freezing, staring at it like it might disappear if he blinked. He’d only mentioned it once, just a passing comment about how he’d always wanted one but couldn’t afford it. That was it.
And yet Megumi remembered.
Yuuji tried to give it back, insisting it was too much, that he couldn’t accept something like that. But Megumi refused, simply telling him to keep it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That was when Yuuji realized that Megumi didn’t just listen. He paid attention. So if there was anyone he’d want beside him at trivia night, it had to be him.
Later that day, as they walked side by side through the university hallways, Yuuji finally gathered the courage.
“Hey, Megs! Do you want to go to trivia night with me this Saturday?” he asked, trying to sound casual while subtly fixing his collar and adjusting the straps of his bag.
Megumi stopped and then turned to face him. And without a word, he reached out to fix Yuuji’s collar properly.
“Trivia night?” he repeated.
“Yeah! It’s team-based,” Yuuji said quickly, lifting his chin just slightly to make it easier for Megumi. “And you’re really smart, so we’d probably win!”
Megumi smoothed down the fabric of Yuuji’s shirt, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You think I’d enjoy it?”
“I mean…” Yuuji faltered, suddenly aware of how close they were. “I thought you might.”
A soft laugh escaped Megumi as they resumed walking. “Sure. Wher—”
His phone rang. The moment broke as quickly as it formed.
Megumi glanced at the screen, expression shifting. “I have to go. Mathlete practice. The coach came early.”
“Go, go! I’ll text you the details!” Yuuji said, patting his shoulder.
Megumi nodded and ran off.
And Yuuji stood there, watching him disappear into the crowd—heart light, steps practically bouncing in place.
He said yes. Megumi said yes. Can I count this as a date?!
By the time Yuuji started walking again, his mind was already racing: what to wear, what categories to review, what kind of questions might come out…
And then… What if this is it? What if this is the moment? The thought hit him so suddenly that it made his chest tighten. A confession. Not now… but maybe that night. Maybe after. Maybe when everything feels right.
He was still caught in that hopeful spiral when, Bang!
A locker slammed shut beside him, followed by a low, mocking laugh.
“Really? A trivia night?”
Yuuji turned.
Noritoshi Kamo.
A junior from Medtech. Polished, composed, carrying his family name as if it were something heavy and important. Smart. Respected. And, unfortunately, someone Yuuji recognized all too well as another person orbiting around Megumi.
“Yeah,” Yuuji said, placing his hands on his hips with forced confidence. “Want to go? Though Megumi and I are teaming up.”
“That’s… lame,” Kamo replied, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing slightly.
Yuuji blinked.
Lame? Trivia night? Free beer, food, and a knowledge test?
Before he could respond, Kamo continued. “You’re making him spend his weekend answering questions?” he said. “He’s already drowning in coursework and mathlete training.”
Yuuji hesitated. Because… that part was true.
Megumi had just run off for practice. They were preparing for a national competition, and Megumi wasn’t just a member: he was their strongest one. On top of that, his veterinary studies were only getting more intense, especially now that he was aiming for a prestigious internship abroad.
The pressure on him wasn’t normal. It was overwhelming.
“I mean… trivia nights are fun,” Yuuji said, trying to push back. “It’s not like math or science. He can just relax. Have some beer, eat chicken wings…”
Why am I defending this so hard? Yuuji thought to himself.
Kamo stepped closer, a quiet, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Fushiguro spends five days a week thinking,” he said. “If I were taking him out, I’d offer something better.”
Of course, there it is. His real intention. Yuuji’s stomach dropped.
“Like what?” he asked, more sharply than he intended.
“A proper dinner,” Kamo replied smoothly, adjusting his sleeve. “Somewhere quiet. Refined. A five-star restaurant with good food and good atmosphere.” His gaze flicked toward Yuuji. “Not some noisy, cramped pub filled with questions he won’t even enjoy.”
And the worst part? It sounded… right. Megumi did belong in places like that. Not in a loud, sticky-floored pub.
But then again, Megumi had spent hours sitting beside Yuuji, watching movies on a slightly laggy laptop, laughing at scenes that didn’t make sense, listening to his endless rambling about things that didn’t matter to anyone else.
Megumi stayed. So Yuuji forced a laugh, even if it came out a little tight. “Well… Megumi said yes,” he said. “And I know he’ll like it.”
Kamo studied him for a moment, that same unreadable expression settling on his face.
Then he smirked. “We’ll see if he still wants to go.”
And just like that, he walked away. Leaving Yuuji standing there, staring at the floor.
The excitement from earlier dimmed slightly, replaced by something heavier. Doubt, creeping in where confidence used to be.
What if he’s right? What if Megumi only said yes because it was me who asked?
What if–
“Hey there, Itadori!” one of his classmates' voices broke through his thoughts. Yuuji looked up instantly.
“Hey!” he said cheerfully, forcing back the bright smile he had been wearing earlier. But his heart can’t shake off the heaviness.
Saturday finally arrived, and Yuuji woke up with a kind of excitement that felt almost too big for his chest. The past two days had been nothing but long, draining quizzes and exams. He and Megumi barely exchanged messages, only the occasional short reply squeezed between study sessions. The silence felt strange and different.
Which was exactly why tonight mattered.
Trivia night wasn’t just something to look forward to; it was something to end the week right. A reward, and a break. A chance to finally sit beside Megumi again without notes between them, without pressure hanging over their heads.
And maybe… something more.
Yuuji stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket for what felt like the tenth time. He exhaled slowly, then reached for the small bundle resting carefully on his desk.
Three roses. It’s not extravagant nor grand. But it is intentional.
Honestly, it was all he could afford. And somehow that made it feel even more honest. Three roses. Simple, but enough to mean something: I like you. Or… I love you.
His face flushed immediately at the thought.
“Too much,” he muttered to himself, but he didn’t put them down.
Megumi still hadn’t replied since Friday night. But that was fine. It had to be fine. Megumi was busy, and Yuuji had gotten used to that.
Still… Kamo’s voice lingered somewhere in the back of his mind, unwelcome and persistent. That’s why Yuuji spent his entire morning and afternoon reviewing random facts, movie trivia, music history, and anything he could get his hands on. If they were going to win, he’d make sure Megumi didn’t have to lift a finger. He’d handle it all. Megumi could just sit back, relax, and enjoy the night.
By 5:30 PM, Yuuji gave himself one last look in the mirror, clapping his cheeks lightly.
“You got this,” he said, trying to sound confident.
Then he grabbed the roses and headed out.
The walk to the park felt lighter than usual. Every step carried anticipation, every thought looping back to how the night might go: laughing over wrong answers, celebrating correct ones, maybe sharing a drink after, maybe… Maybe confessing.
He stopped at a pedestrian lane, waiting for the light to change.
And that’s when he saw it.
A large, pristine restaurant across the street; white walls, tall glass windows, the kind of place that didn’t even need a sign to say it was expensive.
His gaze drifted absentmindedly, then froze.
Spiky black hair. Too familiar. He knows that spiky hair because he spent his whole freshman year staring at it.
Megumi.
Without thinking, Yuuji moved closer, slipping behind a nearby tree. From there, the view sharpened. He can’t see the whole scenario, but he’s sure now that it is Megumi. Dressed handsomely in a semi-formal suit Yuuji had never seen before, sitting across from Kamo Noritoshi.
Kamo was laughing, relaxed, and confident. And Megumi was smiling. He looked comfortable and happy. Nothing like the tired, overworked version Yuuji had last seen.
Yuuji stayed there longer than he should have. Long enough to see Kamo excuse himself, leaving the table for a moment, only to return carrying a large bouquet of red roses, wrapped in sleek and elegant black paper. It looks expensive.
Everything Yuuji’s three roses weren’t.
He couldn’t hear what was said, and couldn't see Megumi’s full reaction. But he saw him accept it and place it gently beside him.
And that was enough. Something twisted painfully in Yuuji’s chest.
Kamo’s words echoed, louder now.
A proper dinner… A place that suits him.
And suddenly, it all felt undeniable. This–this was Megumi’s world. It’s not the sticky tables, not loud pubs, nor cheap beer and chicken wings.
Yuuji looked down at the three roses in his hand. They felt smaller and more insignificant now.
He turned away and didn’t look back again.
His feet moved on their own, carrying him through familiar streets until he found himself standing in front of the pub. It was too early. The sky hadn’t even fully darkened yet. The sign flickered lazily, and the muffled sounds of music leaked through the doors.
He sat on a bench outside, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
Megumi’s probably still there, he thought. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he chose something better. The thought settled heavier than he expected.
Time passed without him noticing. Until the sudden burst of music from inside made him flinch. Voices grew louder, laughter spilling out as more people arrived.
He blinked. He’d been sitting there for almost an hour.
Yuuji exhaled sharply, pushing himself up. He was already here, so there’s no point wasting it. He pocketed the three flowers, and then he stepped inside.
The pub was alive: warm lights, loud chatter, the smell of fried food and beer thick in the air. Teams of two filled the tables, leaning close to each other, already buzzing with energy.
The stage lights flickered on, and the host grabbed the microphone.
“Alright, everyone! Get ready!”
Yuuji found the table reserved for him and Megumi and sat down alone. The empty chair beside him felt louder than the entire room.
The host noticed almost immediately, stepping closer with a grin. “Looks like you’re missing a partner.”
Yuuji leaned back in his chair, forcing a confident smile.
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll win it solo.”
The crowd reacted instantly: laughter, cheers, a few playful whistles.
“Bold strategy!” the host laughed, grabbing a ridiculously large teddy bear and plopping it into the empty seat beside Yuuji. “There. Temporary partner.”
Yuuji glanced at it, then back at the stage, shrugging lightly.
“I know a lot of random stuff,” he said.
The music dimmed. The lights focused. And just like that, the trivia night begins.
The trivia night kicked off with a burst of music and cheers, and Yuuji forced everything else into the back of his mind. Right now, he has one job, and that is to win.
“What year did the first Pokémon game release?”
Yuuji slammed the buzzer without hesitation, “1996!”
“1996… is correct! Point to you, pinky hair!”
The scoreboard flipped, his name climbing higher. Yuuji whooped, raising his mug and downing a gulp of beer before throwing a grin at the crowd, feeding off their energy like it could keep his thoughts at bay.
Next question.
“What actor voiced Shrek?”
One of the competing teams managed to press the buzzer seconds before him, “Mike Myers!” a blonde girl from another table answered.
“Correct! Point to the sweet couple!”
They laughed, bumping fists, leaning into each other like winning was something they shared.
Yuuji smiled too; he couldn’t help it. But the feeling didn’t quite reach his chest. Something tugged there, subtle but persistent, as he watched the easy way they celebrated and hugged together.
Still, the game moved fast. Round after round, question after question: movies, music, random facts; Yuuji answered with precision. His table climbed steadily up the board, his confidence growing with every correct answer.
But he wasn’t alone at the top. Two other duos kept pace, sharp and relentless. The crowd thinned as teams were eliminated one by one, until only three remained.
Yuuji. And two pairs who worked like well-oiled machines.
Beer mugs began to pile at his table; empty, half-full, forgotten. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was drinking to celebrate or to drown out something heavier sitting quietly in his chest.
The scoreboard tightened. This next question would decide who moved forward. Yuuji was behind by one point. Just one.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand just as the host leaned into the mic, “In the series The Big Bang Theory, what theory did Sheldon Cooper and Amy Fowler develop and win a Nobel Prize with?”
Yuuji froze, “…Oh no.”
Around him, the other teams faltered too, whispering frantically.
The host laughed. “Uh-oh! Is this a spoiler? Did everyone even reach that season?”
Yuuji stared at his paper. He knew this. He knew this. He remembered the spoilers flooding his feed back then: the debates, the discussions, the outrage. He’d tried to avoid it, but it was everywhere.
So why couldn’t he remember? His thoughts slipped, scattered, uncooperative. The room felt louder, and the other teams hesitated to answer.
The host glanced around. “Anyone? If no one gets this, we’ll base advancement on current scores!”
Yuuji exhaled slowly.
That’s it. He couldn’t recall it. Did it even matter anymore? Was he still chasing the prize or just trying to prove something to himself?
He raised his hand, ready to surrender, “I pa—”
And then a voice cut cleanly through the noise, “It’s a new approach to string theory called Super-Asymmetry.”
Everything stopped. The room turned. Yuuji turned too.
There, by the entrance, stood Megumi. Dressed sharply in a semi-formal suit, hair slightly disheveled, a sheen of sweat on his skin like he’d rushed all the way there. His chest rose and fell steadily, but his eyes, those same green eyes, were locked forward.
For a moment, it felt like freshman year all over again, like seeing him for the first time.
“…Correct,” the host said, blinking. “But sorry, no answers from the audience!”
Megumi stepped forward, calm despite the attention. “Sorry, I’m late,” he said, nodding toward Yuuji. “I’m his partner.”
He reached the table, casually pushing the oversized teddy bear aside before taking the empty seat next to him.
“Oh wow! What an entrance!” the host laughed. “Point goes to pinky hair and his newly arrived spiky-haired partner! That means you’re advancing to the final round!”
Cheers erupted, but Yuuji barely heard them. All he could see was Megumi.
“Megumi?” he said softly.
Megumi turned, something gentle in his expression. “Yes?”
“You’re here.”
A small pause. “I said I would be.”
Then, without hesitation, Megumi reached for his hand.
“Now,” he added, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “let’s win that Human Earthworm 4 figure.”
Yuuji huffed out a laugh, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I was actually aiming for the free beer. But sure.”
The final round began. And this time, they were unstoppable.
Yuuji held his ground, answering quickly.
But Megumi. Megumi was terrifying. He’s sharp and focused. Competitive in a way Yuuji had only ever seen from the Mathlete competitions he attended. He didn’t just press the buzzer; he attacked it, beating other teams by milliseconds.
And somehow, between the intensity and the chaos, Yuuji found himself staring again because Megumi looked… like, ridiculously good. During the halfway through the final round, Megumi removed his coat and rolled his sleeves. Damn, his arms. Yuuji tried to look away and chug a beer.
Even while seriously answering questions about the Human Earthworm, Megumi looked hot. Yuuji almost laughed, remembering how Megumi once ranted about the terrible CGI in one of the sequels…and now here he was, recalling exact details as it mattered.
When the final scores were announced, they won. By three points.
The pub exploded into cheers as they were handed their prizes: a ridiculous trophy, vouchers for a month of free beer, and the coveted Human Earthworm 4 live action figure.
“We did it, Megumi!” Yuuji shouted, pulling him into a hug and spinning him around.
Megumi laughed, trying and failing to hide it. “Put me down, idiot! I’m gonna throw up!”
Yuuji set him down, still grinning, eyes sparkling as he held up the box. “This is like Christmas! Thanks to you, Megumi!”
They both leaned over it, inspecting every detail like kids.
But then Yuuji’s attention shifted.
Nearby, one of the rival teams, the blonde girl and her partner, were crouched beside a small kid.
“We’re sorry,” the girl said gently. “We tried to win that figure for you. Don’t worry, we’ll try to look for it at online stores.”
“It’s okay,” the kid replied, smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s really expensive anyway. I’m proud of you.”
Yuuji froze.
Something about that smile hit too close. A memory surfaced of his younger version. Seven years old. Learning early that some things just weren’t for him. Big toys and expensive things. Wishes that didn’t get granted.
Before he could think twice, he stood.
“Yuuji?” Megumi called, but he was already moving.
He approached them, holding the box.
“You know,” Yuuji said, crouching slightly to meet the kid’s eyes, “I actually don’t have space in my room for something this big. And it’s rare to meet someone who loves Human Earthworm as much as I do.”
The kid’s eyes lit up instantly.
Yuuji smiled. “So here. It’s yours.” He held the box out.
The man blinked. “We can’t accept that—you won it fair and square.”
Yuuji shook his head. “It’s mine, right? So I get to decide what to do with it.”
He nudged it closer. “And I want you to have it.”
The kid looked at his parents, waiting for a sign to accept it. The parents looked at each other before returning their gaze to their kid. They nodded.
And just like that, he hugged the box tightly. “Thank you so much, mister! I’m really, really happy!”
The parents followed with a flood of gratitude, voices overlapping.
Yuuji just smiled, nodding, before turning back toward the bar.
Megumi caught up with him quickly. “But you wanted that,” he said.
Yuuji shrugged lightly as the bartender slid a fresh mug of beer toward him, one of the many they’d earned.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But… I saw myself in him.”
He took a sip, then smiled. “I think my grandpa would be proud.”
Megumi watched him quietly for a moment before letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head.
He ordered a drink too, leaning against the counter beside him.
“You’re really something, Yuuji.”
Yuuji glanced at him, grinned easily and warmly. “Yeah,” he said.
Later that night, they wandered through the city together.
The streets had quieted, the usual rush replaced by the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional laughter spilling out of late-night cafes. The air was cool, brushing gently against their skin, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and asphalt. They had stayed at the pub longer than expected; long enough to meet strangers, share drinks, laugh too loudly, and forget, for a while, everything outside those walls.
Now it was just the two of them. Walking side by side and close enough that their shoulders brushed every few steps.
Yuuji let the silence stretch for a moment before finally asking the question that had been sitting heavily in his chest all evening. “…Why did you come?”
Megumi glanced at him, slightly puzzled. “Uh… because you invited me?”
Yuuji hesitated. The alcohol in his system nudged him forward, loosening the restraint he usually held so tightly. “…I mean… after the dinner.”
Megumi blinked. “What dinner?”
“I saw you,” Yuuji said quietly. “With Kamo.”
There was a brief pause. Then Megumi sighed. “Oh. That.”
He stopped walking. Yuuji did too.
They stood beneath a streetlamp, its soft glow casting warm light across Megumi’s face, softening his sharp features as he tilted his head slightly, looking up at the night sky.
“It wasn’t a date,” Megumi said. “At least… not for me.”
Yuuji’s chest eased, just a little.
“Kamo approached me after our exams,” Megumi continued. “He said his aunt had connections to an internship program I’ve been aiming for. He offered to introduce me.”
“Oh,” Yuuji murmured. “So… you weren’t alone with him?”
Megumi shook his head. “No. His aunt was there. And she talked, like a lot. Mostly about the internship, which I had to sit through politely. It was an opportunity, after all.”
He let out a small breath, then glanced at Yuuji.
“But then the conversation shifted.” A faint, almost amused smile tugged at his lips.
“She started talking about Kamo. Like she was trying to sell him to me.”
Yuuji couldn’t help it; he laughed.
“And then,” Megumi added, rolling his eyes slightly, “it turned into how ‘lucky’ I was to meet him.”
That made Yuuji laugh harder.
“And then he gave me this huge bouquet,” Megumi said, his expression twisting into mild horror. “Expensive and over the top. You should’ve seen my face! I had no idea what to do!”
Yuuji clutched his stomach, laughing. “I wish I did.”
Megumi huffed softly. “After that, his aunt conveniently left us alone. And that’s when he confessed.”
Yuuji still.
“Not just confessed,” Megumi added, voice flattening slightly. “He said he’d make sure I got into the internship, with his aunt’s help, if I agreed to be his boyfriend.”
The words landed heavily. Yuuji’s expression shifted, not with heartbreak, but with disbelief.
“That’s…” he muttered, jaw tightening. “That’s messed up.”
“I know,” Megumi said simply. “I told him exactly that. Probably harsher than necessary.”
A small smile crossed his face, but it didn’t quite hide the tension beneath.
“He didn’t take it well. Said he’d make sure I wouldn’t get into that program.”
Yuuji’s hand shot out, gripping Megumi’s shoulder. “But the internship… You worked so hard for that.”
Megumi met his eyes, calm. “Yuuji. It’s okay.” He gave a small shrug.
“It’s not the only opportunity out there. And honestly… going abroad like that?” He shook his head slightly. “It’s not something I really want.”
Yuuji blinked, surprised. “Why not? I mean… It's abroad. You could take a break, see new places…”
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Megumi stepped closer. And gently, so gently, cupped Yuuji’s cheeks with both hands.
“Because it means being away from you,” he said softly. “And I don’t want that.”
Yuuji’s breath caught. His mind scrambled, trying to understand, to categorize, to not jump to conclusions. Is this…?
Before he could finish the thought, Megumi leaned in. And kissed him. It was soft and careful at first. But it’s real.
Yuuji froze for half a second, just long enough to feel it fully, before everything else melted away. His hands found Megumi’s head, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss like he’d been waiting for this without even realizing it.
Under the quiet night sky, they stayed like that until breathing became necessary again. They pulled apart slowly. Megumi rested his forehead against Yuuji’s, thumbs brushing lightly against his cheeks.
“Hi,” he murmured.
Yuuji let out a small, breathless laugh. “Hi.”
A beat.
“So… you like me? Like, love me?!” Yuuji asked, still trying to catch up with reality.
Megumi rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Yuuji laughed, the sound lighter now. “Okay, okay-sorry! I just–”
He straightened slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “I thought… You preferred that kind of thing. You know. Fancy restaurants.”
Megumi frowned. “Why would I?”
“Well…” Yuuji hesitated. “You fit in there. You belong in places like that.”
Megumi didn’t respond immediately. So Yuuji kept going, words spilling faster now.
“You’re at the top, Megumi. You’ve got everything! Family, reputation, brains. I’m just… me. I don’t have any of that. And I dragged you to a trivia night when you probably needed rest, when you deserved something better–”
“Stop.” Megumi’s hand covered his mouth. “Stop saying that,” he said firmly.
Yuuji went quiet. Megumi searched his face, his expression softening.
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said. “Not your background. Not your money. Not any of it.”
His voice was gentle. “You’re kind. You’re genuine. You make people feel seen. That’s what matters to me.”
He intertwined their fingers. “You might not be top of the class, but you just carried us through half that trivia night. And we won.”
A small smile appeared.
“I love you, Yuuji. For everything that you are. Your kindness. Your energy. Even your weird little habits.”
Yuuji’s eyes stung.
“And I’d choose a noisy trivia night with you over a fancy restaurant any day,” Megumi added. “As for the internship, I’ll find another way. I’m not worried.”
He squeezed Yuuji’s hand. “I’m happiest when I’m with you.”
Tears slipped down Yuuji’s cheeks before he could stop them.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re so cheesy.”
Megumi smiled. “I learned from you.”
Yuuji wiped his eyes, grinning. “I was actually planning to confess tonight… but you beat me to it.”
Megumi huffed. “I’ve been waiting since sophomore year. You’re just slow.”
Yuuji gasped. “No way!”
“I almost accepted a date once just to make you jealous,” Megumi admitted casually.
“And you didn’t because you love me,” Yuuji shot back.
“Unfortunately,” Megumi said dryly, earning a light punch to his shoulder.
“And for the record,” Megumi added, smirking slightly, “I like trivia. It’s fun. And it’s your thing.”
Yuuji leaned closer, voice dropping near his ear. “You looked really hot answering those questions, by the way.”
Megumi’s ears flushed instantly. Yuuji snorted.
“You little–” Megumi pulled him into a tight hug, making Yuuji laugh again.
Then Megumi paused. “…Wait.”
He glanced down at Yuuji’s jacket as he felt something in its pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, right.” Yuuji pulled back, reaching into his pocket. “I almost forgot.”
He brought out the three slightly crumpled roses.
“I know it’s not… much,” he said, suddenly shy. “But I wanted to give you these.”
Megumi’s expression softened instantly. He accepted them carefully, like they were something fragile.
“Yuuji… these are perfect.”
Yuuji tilted his head, teasing lightly. “More than that giant bouquet earlier?”
Megumi rolled his eyes, then grabbed Yuuji’s jacket and pulled him in for another kiss.
Between breaths, he whispered, “Way more.”
They lingered there under the streetlight, smiling into each other, stealing one more kiss before finally pulling apart.
Later, when Megumi reached his apartment, he stepped inside quietly, the night still lingering around him.
In his hands: three roses and the small, slightly ridiculous trivia trophy. He set them down on his desk, staring at them for a long moment.
Then his gaze shifted to the neat row of awards lined up nearby. Achievements from years of being at the top.
Carefully, he reached out and removed one, a Mathletes trophy.
In its place, he set the trivia night trophy. It looked out of place; smaller and less polished. But somehow, it's more meaningful.
Megumi picked up the roses again, a soft smile forming on his lips. And for the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel heavy. It felt exciting.
Before drifting off to sleep, he grabs his phone and searches for something. Once he found what he was looking for, he reached for his credit card and typed his details. He smiled as he saw the 'Order Processing' status of the limited edition Human Earthworm 4 live-action figure.
He smiles as he looks forward to the upcoming days with Yuuji.