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Night time was supposed to be Megumi’s favourite time.
It was quieter at night; the lights weren’t as bright. People stayed away from the streets and there weren’t as many cars driving past their new apartment.
It was also easier to hide in the shadows, something that had served Megumi well in the past. Especially now that Gojo had begun teaching Megumi his Ten Shadows technique, the darkness that night brought seemed safer, bringing him more comfort than the day.
This night had been no different from any other. He had said goodnight to Tsumiki as she smiled warmly back at him and barely grunted at Gojo’s annoying, yet persistent, presence, before making his way to his room.
Nothing had seemed different as his head hit his soft pillow, sleep engulfing him almost immediately. Except this sleep was different. Almost immediately, Megumi could sense that something was extremely wrong.
Megumi was back in his old house. Not that he could see very much, his vision clouded in darkness. But he could tell from the smell.
Dampness clung to the walls, forming clusters of mould in the corners of the room. The stench of rotting food permeated the air, it’s presence nauseating as Megumi adjusted to the familiar surroundings of his old house.
Without thinking, Megumi began to move, his footsteps slow and sluggish as if he was walking through thick liquid. His eyes refused to adjust to the dark room, meaning he had to rely on touch to guide him towards the looming doorway that seemed far too daunting for a room the size of the one he currently stood in.
He went to reach for the handle, his vision becoming more and more blurred as he did so.
And then came the footsteps.
Heavy, loud, terrifying footsteps, making their way closer and closer to the door that Megumi stood behind.
Megumi knew those footsteps. He had memorised them out of fear, a survival instinct that had really done very little to protect him in his old, tiny house.
The walls seemed to close in around Megumi as he stood unmoving, watching, waiting for the footsteps to reach the door. He couldn’t run, not with the walls pressing into his back and sides. He was cornered, prey trapped in a cage waiting for the predator to emerge from the tree line.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to claw at the walls as static crept into his vision, a loud buzzing noise filling his ears. He wanted to look away from the door as it creaked open agonisingly slowly.
Megumi could do nothing but watch as a looming figure stood before him, shrouded in the darkness that he was supposed to find comfort in, the darkness that was supposed to protect him.
The man didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His very presence was enough to strike fear into the young child’s heart.
He lunged at Megumi, blacking out his vision entirely.
Megumi screamed, feeling as if he was falling as he was engulfed by darkness, his father’s the man’s footsteps still so loud in his mind.
But there was nothing anymore. No room, no man, no sound.
Just darkness.
He was alone in the dark.
Megumi shot up from his bed, his hand firmly covering his mouth to stop him from screaming.
He was drenched in sweat and he could feel himself shaking. It was just a dream; it was nothing more than a dream. He repeated those words to himself like a mantra, but they did nothing to soothe him.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes that he couldn’t even be bothered to wipe away. Instead, he pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, rocking back and forth to try and calm himself down.
The dream was too real. He hadn’t had one that vivid in ages. He used to get dreams like that all the time, but the more time he spent with Tsumiki and Gojo, the less they seemed to happen. Maybe he was becoming complacent, letting his guard down. He should have stayed more vigilant. He should have been more prepared for this.
A silent sob shook Megumi’s curled up form. He had become good at crying silently. It was better than disturbing other people. It made him less of a burden.
But this new Megumi was different from the one who had lived in the old house he had dreamt of. Because this Megumi was selfish, so very selfish. He was selfish because right now he didn’t want to be silent.
No, Megumi didn’t want to his tears to fall silently. He wanted to scream, to yell, for someone to run to his side and make sure he was ok. But no one would hear him, because no one could possibly hear the silent tears that traced the sides of his face.
Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that Megumi didn’t just want someone. Megumi wanted Gojo.
Sure, Gojo was annoying and arrogant and talked way too loudly. He was immature and a barely functioning adult who was a terrible cook (he was getting better but that wasn’t saying much). Gojo wasn’t exactly someone who should be able to comfort Megumi, being as unserious and childish as he was. But this wouldn’t be the first time the man had comforted a distressed Megumi.
It still surprised Megumi that he trusted the older boy enough to let him see him this vulnerable, but somehow Gojo had managed to break down the walls of eight year old who has fortified them incredibly well.
Stupid Gojo. How could he make Megumi think such selfish thoughts? Gojo was probably sleeping, most likely having an important mission tomorrow that he would need a full night’s rest to complete. Megumi couldn’t burden Gojo like that, no matter how many times the man had told him that he could always come to him if he needed.
Megumi squeezed his eyes shut and immediately opened them again when static re-entered his vision. He wanted Gojo. He needed Gojo. He knew now that Gojo wouldn’t yell at him, something that had taken him a very long time to get ingrained in his head. The worst that he would to was tell Megumi to go away. Sure, that would put him back to square one, but maybe it was worth a try. There was no way he was going back to bed anytime soon anyway.
He grabbed one of his plushies that lay on his bed, a frog one that Tsumiki had given him for his birthday. It wasn’t like he needed it; he was eight so he was practically all grown up now, but he thought that maybe Froggy would get lonely without Megumi. So, he held the toy close to his chest as his bare feet touched the wooden floors beneath him.
He made his way to the door with no struggles. He couldn’t hear any footsteps behind the door either, so he judged that it was safe enough to leave.
Gojo’s room was only just down the hall, but it seemed impossible to try and reach. With every step, Megumi second guessed himself. Should he really be bothering Gojo with something this childish? It wasn’t like he was in danger; it was just a nightmare after all.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Megumi arrived at Gojo’s bedroom door. He had been staying at their house more often recently, and secretly, Megumi was glad. It was kind of nice to have someone other than Tsumiki to come home to in the day. He also liked it because it meant that Tsumiki didn’t have to act like the parent. As immature as Gojo was, he did take better care of them than any other adult that had been in the two kids’ life. Megumi was grateful for that.
The door was cracked open slightly, so Megumi pushed gently against it, peering inside the room. Gojo lay in bed, seemingly asleep if his levelled breathing was anything to go by. It was weird seeing the strongest sorcerer so unguarded, but Megumi was beginning to get used to it. Gojo was spending more time with them, so he was bound to get used to the sight eventually.
Carefully, he made his way into the room, gripping his frog tighter to stop himself from shaking. He knew Gojo was a relatively light sleeper, so it wouldn’t take that much to wake him. Gently, he called out into the darkness, hoping that someone would respond.
“Gojo,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke.
When he got no response, Megumi called out again a little louder.
A soft grunt came in response from Gojo. It was too dark for Megumi to see the man properly, but he could hear the blankets shift slightly.
“Megumi?”
A gravelling voice spoke from the darkness as a figure sat up from the bed.
Gojo turned to face him, his bright blue eyes uncovered and practically glowing even in the darkness. He leaned over and turned on a lamp next to his bed, illuminating both the room and the worry that was etched onto his face. Clearly, Gojo could sense something was wrong.
“I-I’m sorry for waking you,” Megumi replied softly, dropping his gaze from Gojo’s to look at his feet.
He shouldn’t have come. He shouldn’t have woken Gojo up. He should have been able to deal with this by himself. He didn’t need Gojo’s help. He didn’t need anyone’s help.
“What’s going on Megs?” Gojo asked, rubbing sleep out of his eye, “Are you ok?”
Megumi sniffled quietly, clutching his froggy even tighter, digging his fingers into its soft body. It was pathetic really. He was eight years old and still crying over a nightmare that he knew wasn’t real. Honestly, how did Gojo even put up with him?
“Gumi?”
Megumi could hear the concern in Gojo’s voice. He must have thought that Megumi was in actual danger. How disappointed he would soon be.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi repeated, his voice thick with emotion.
He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry.
“What are you apologising for Megs?” Gojo questioned, his voice too soft and too kind.
Megumi blinked the tears away, practically shaking as he buried his face in his plushie. How disgustingly pathetic.
“I’m sorry that I woke you up,” Megumi began, his voice shaky, “I-I just had a nightmare, bu-but I’m ok. I-I’ll be ok.”
A sob caught in Megumi’s throat as he thought back to the figure that plagued his nightmare. It wasn’t real, it had just been inside his head. But Megumi couldn’t help but think back to the time where that nightmare had been his reality. It really hadn’t been that long ago.
“Oh, Gumi, it’s alright,” Gojo soothed, bringing Megumi back to the present, “You don’t need to apologise for waking me up.”
At Gojo’s words, Megumi could no longer hold back his sobs. They wracked his small frame, tears soaking his froggy and staining his cheeks. The tears only seemed to fall harder as he felt Gojo’s arms wrap around him, pulling him into the large bed.
Megumi buried his face into Gojo’s chest, his tears now staining Gojo’s shirt as the man repeated reassurance, rubbing circles into the child’s back.
Megumi didn’t deserve this kindness. He didn’t deserve Gojo’s nice words and unguarded touch. He almost wished that Gojo would put his Infinity back up. That would be easier to deal with than this softness.
As if Gojo could read his thoughts, the man brought a hand up to Megumi’s wild, black hair and ran his fingers through it, mocking the child’s inexplicable desire to be shunned and pushed away.
“Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about?” Gojo asked as Megumi’s sobs died down a little, his hand never stilling in his hair.
“It was nothing,” Megumi mumbled into Gojo’s chest, refusing to look up and meet the man’s eyes.
Gojo let out a small chuckle, ruffling Megumi’s hair slightly. Megumi didn’t like that Gojo could apparently read his mind. Gojo insisted that he couldn’t and that Megumi just had very readable expressions, but Megumi didn’t trust that. This man knew him far too well.
“I’m gonna be honest Megs, this doesn’t look like ‘nothing’,” Gojo replied playfully, before his voice became softer, “You don’t have to tell me what happened, but it does help to talk about these things.”
“It wasn’t even real!” Megumi shot back, but his words had no real bite to them.
He curled tighter in on himself, cradling his plushie to his own chest as Gojo held him against his own. He wanted to cry but he didn’t know if he had any tears left. Besides, like he had said, the nightmare wasn’t even real.
“I know it wasn’t real, Gumi,” Gojo said softly, the nickname coming naturally, “But that doesn’t mean that your feelings are any less important.”
Megumi sniffled as a he felt Gojo’s hand brush against his cheek, beckoning the child to look at him. Leaning into the touch slightly, Megumi felt his gaze land of Gojo’s, his bright white hair glowing in the warm light of the lamp.
Gojo didn’t look angry. Even though Megumi had gotten tears and snot all over his shirt, he still gazed down at him with warmth and patience. Megumi didn’t know if he would ever get used to that look on an adult’s face.
“It was a stupid nightmare,” Megumi grumbled, dropping his gaze from Gojo’s but not quite hiding his face again.
Gojo let out a small laugh at Megumi’s words, throwing his head back slightly in a warm glow of the room that was such a stark contrast from his nightmare.
“Most nightmares seem stupid,” Gojo replied, a soft smile gracing his face, “But even so, it still helps to talk about them, especially when they make you this upset.”
Megumi took a deep breath, meeting Gojo’s gaze once more briefly, before staring down at his froggy.
“I was back at my old house,” Megumi began, swallowing thickly as he felt tears begin to form again at the fresh memory of the nightmare, “It was all dark and I couldn’t move properly. I-I tried to get to the door, but I heard- I heard footsteps outside of it.”
Gojo’s hold on Megumi seemed to tighten instinctively. He moved so he was resting against the headboard of the bed and Megumi practically crawled into his lap as Gojo pulled him closer. Megumi was pretty sure Gojo knew where the nightmare was going.
“He-he was there, on the other side of the door,” Megumi hiccupped as Gojo began running his fingers through his hair once more, “He moved closer to me, and- and then I felt like I was falling. And it was dark and I just kept falling and I don’t even know why I dreamt of that cause it was a long time ago and I- I don’t know why I’m still scared of him!”
At his own words, Megumi burst into tears again, burying himself in Gojo’s chest once again. It was the first time he had said it out loud; the first time he had even admitted it to himself. He was still scared of that man who he had once called his father.
“Shhh, it’s ok Gumi,” Gojo hushed, gently rocking Megumi back and forth, “I’ve got you, kid. You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you.”
Megumi didn’t deserve Gojo. He didn’t deserve his kind words and thoughtful gestures. Sure, Gojo was incredibly annoying, but he was far too kind to Megumi. However, Megumi didn’t want it to end. Selfishly, he wanted Gojo to keep being so nice to him. Because Gojo made everything a little easier to deal with, however immature he was.
So, Megumi let Gojo hold him. He let the man run his fingers through his hair and tell him it was all going to be ok. Megumi knew it wasn’t, but it was nice to have someone tell him that maybe, just maybe, it might be alright just for tonight.
“Thank you for telling me that, Gumi,” Gojo spoke, giving Megumi a small squeeze.
On his own terms now, Megumi glanced up at Gojo. Those familiar bright blue eyes looked cloudy, almost as if Gojo was about to cry himself.
Had he done something wrong? Had he said something bad? Megumi didn’t want to make Gojo cry, he really didn’t mean to.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hurriedly wiping away his own tears as he pulled away from Gojo slightly, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Oh, kid,” Gojo breathed, bringing his hands up to cup Megumi’s face, “You didn’t make me cry, I promise. That nightmare just sounded really scary for you, that’s all.”
Careful fingers brushed away Megumi’s tears, pushing his hair off his forehead.
“I’m going to protect you, kiddo,” Gojo whispered, pulling Megumi back towards him in a tight embrace, “No one is going to hurt you anymore.”
Megumi gave a shaky nod as Gojo tucked him under his chin. With one hand still holding his froggy, he gripped the front of Gojo’s shirt in the other as the man carefully maneuvered them, so they were laying on the bed, Megumi’s head still resting on Gojo’s chest.
“Do you want to sleep in here tonight, Gumi?” Gojo asked, his fingernails lightly scratching Megumi’s scalp.
Megumi gave another small nod in response, already feeling his eyes become droopy as his tears dried. He was terrified by the prospect of sleep right now, but if he was to fall asleep, at least now Gojo would be here to keep him safe.
He heard Gojo whisper a quiet good night to him as a small kiss was placed on the top of his head. Tiredness washed over him, dragging him down. But Gojo’s arms staying around him, stopping him from falling back into his old house.
Megumi fell back asleep, knowing that he would be safe now that Gojo was here.