Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Megumi’s favourite moments were behind curtains. With the clatter of lighting grids being taken down, the squeaking of wheels as tech equipment is being wheeled out of the room. There is dull chatter as Megumi turns the corner to hide behind the back curtain. The stage was about three feet off the ground, with a backstage walkway and a railing giving him a place to catch his breath. He looks down over the railing, his eyes are searching. 

Men are taking down equipment, performers are chatting, the drum kit is being disassembled in a corner just a few feet away from him. His eyes rapidly scratch every inch of what he can see in front of him. He moves into the wings. 

Then he feels the wing curtain move, his breathing hitches as he turns his head towards the sound. A strong and large hand comes up to cup the side of his face, he smells like sweat and melons. Their foreheads press together and Megumi feels his soft hair tickling his face. His own hands slide up the arms that are in front of them. This is incredibly risky, anyone could see them. This doesn’t seem to deter the person in front of him because he brushes his lips against Megumi’s cheekbone.

“That was incredible, baby.” He murmurs. 

“Thanks.” Megumi mutters back. The man in front of him grins, his teeth flashing in a proud grin. 

“I’m proud of you.” The man tries to lean in for a proper kiss, Megumi turns his head, his lips land against his jaw. 

“Don’t you have equipment to clean up?” 

“Mm, so bossy.” He says against his jaw, and with a quick peck he is gone. Like a switch his energy changed, his charisma radiating off of him, he hops off the stage and helps another man carry the disassembled drum kit.

Megumi presses his knuckles to his cheek and wills his face to lower in temperature. 

Megumi and his family were known for their musical inclinations. He relished in the moment he was experiencing now. His chest was rising and falling almost in time with the cheers and clapping coming from below him. They were in Sendai, they had just finished the second last show on their tour. He sat on the edge of the stage, his guitar pressed against his stomach with a protective arm over it. He looked out at the people in front of him. He swallowed harshly, like he was choking on the air in his windpipe. He gasped softly and grazed his lips against his bottom lip. Like he was trying to wake himself up. 

He always found it a bit strange that they wanted to hear him play, and wanted to hear him sing. His bandmate and cousin, Maki, took the mic from her stand and spoke between pants, catching her breath. She thanked them for a well received night. Megumi was busy catching his own breath. There was a metal rail separating him and the front row of the audience. 

Some people were reaching out to him, he flicked his eyes rapidly across the crowd to read every sign that was in front of him. His ears were ringing and he could feel his head rushing with blood. Passion and exhaustion were filling his hollow bones, just as they always did after he played music. It was a thrill that nothing else could compare to. His tongue gently pressed against his lips as he panted. 

As the last of the audience members filed out of the venue, Megumi fell onto his back. He looked up at the blinding lights. He’d been a musician his whole life, but he and his band came into a recent and uproarious fund of popularity. 

His band, Divine Dogs, was performing their tour over spring break.  Performing large venues and opening for concerts became a dizzying sensation in his tortured life, and nights spent with his head aching and eyes stinging as he forced himself to stay awake to avoid the cold grip of his frequent night terrors. 

At school he was worth a little bit more than a gnat that had been squished under a thumb, pressed against a car window. People paid as much attention to him as they did to an ant that had been stepped on by a hiker. 

Now people’s eyes found him. He didn’t necessarily hate it, it’s not like he’d shake and crumble under the gazes that follow him down the hallway. He wasn’t a big fan either, though. People would present themselves with a shallow mask of kindness and interest. 

Some would approach as friends, others as wanting to be more, but Megumi knew it wasn’t for him. He knew that no one would want to know him that way, no one would desire him in that way. And this declaration isn’t rooted in a sense of self pity, he can only describe it as respect for himself. An understanding of his own mediocrity and senselessness in his contribution to another’s life. 

His self image is rooted in duty, more than hatred; as others assume it is. With everyone and everything being born unequal, he has to understand his inequality to love, friendship, and closeness. 

He doesn’t react to these attempts to make him a fool. Mostly, because he doesn’t have to. Someone always steps in front of him and tells the figure to get lost. Someone always takes him home and leads him through the crowded hallways. Someone always rolls his eyes and frowns when their lunch gets interrupted by someone who wants to ask Megumi for a favour. 

Bringing him out of his reflection, Maki’s boot flashed over his eyes, then he felt a dull pressing into the side of his head. 

“Are you trying to get out of packing up?” She scolded him. He shook his head, though he remained in his laying spot. She huffed and took down his mic stand. 

He heard a lighthearted chuckle. A grounded sound that spreads warmth across a chest and deposits blood into a heart. 

“You’re so mean to him, are you sure you’re family?” He said as he jumped onto the stage, wiping his hands on the thighs of his pants. He extends a hand down to Megumi. 

Megumi grabs it. It’s broad, solid, covered in callouses yet holds the softness of a moderately expensive lotion. His skin was pulled taut over his knuckles, long fingers that always found their way to Megumi’s. 

Yuuji hauls him to a sitting position. Megumi shifts as he places his heel on the edge of the stage. Yuuji helps him up. 

Yuuji Itadori was hired just over a year ago. He’s the same age as Megumi, and happens to attend the same school. They bonded over Satoru’s physics homework. 

His fingers wrap around Megumi’s as they let go of each other's hands. The latter feels his stomach tightening. 

“Out of all the shows,” Yuuji started, “this was by far the best.” His eyes glanced over to Megumi. Megumi blinked. Hard. The way Yuuji would look at him when he talked, like his words were heard by all but meant for one, made him space out for a few seconds.

Megumi is still deciding if he likes or hates that feeling. The two of them aren’t dating, they haven’t done anything like make bad decisions while out celebrating, or in the privacy of Megumi's hotel room when they travel for shows. 

They just look at each other. Their hands stay connected for milliseconds longer than they need to when they touch. Their knees whisper against each other. They stand beside each other with such solidity it is as if they are pressing against the thick, invisible, and indivisible air between their arms. 

They’ve gotten closer over the tour, with Yuuji being the closest in age and proximity to him, Megumi has spent the most of his free time with him. On the drives to their hotel, on the flights to different cities. 

Megumi was wrapping a wire around his hand when he heard Satoru’s voice ringing out through the venue. The last of the heavy equipment had been packed into the truck. Megumi flicked his head down towards his watch, it was 11:45, he felt his head beginning to pound with exhaustion. He forced down a yawn and continued to wrap the wire around his hand, the pads of his fingers tracing along the plastic covering. A few feet in front of him Yuuji was sitting on the ground, he had a wrench in hand, and was taking down the metal rails that were used to separate the audience from the stage. 

They brought their own wherever they went, it cut back on expenses under the renting nature.

Yuuji brought his tongue to the side of his lips as he twisted the wrench, grunting softly at how it refused to move. Megumi continued to curl the wire, he watched the back of Yuuji’s shoulders as they twitched under his other worldly strength. Yuuji placed the wrench on the floor and undid the bolt the rest of the way with his hands. His free hand came up to the back of his neck where he dragged it back down, gliding it along his shoulder. 

He felt a familiar churning and twisting in his stomach. He felt it when Yuuji carried boxes over his shoulder, and bags in his free hand. He felt it when he went on his morning runs and came into school smelling of freshly applied deodorant and sweat. It made Megumi reflect upon how Yuuji was with him, so focused on him, so directed at him. It was almost like Yuuji’s strength was compressed into a small ball of tension, placed deep in his own stomach, so that Megumi could see the realest, and most raw parts of him. 

Almost like. Megumi blinked, and reopened his eyes looking at the ground in front of him. Aside from the fact that Megumi felt incredibly weird eyeing Yuuji in the ways he sometimes did, Choso, who was Yuuji’s elder brother was a few feet away from Megumi in another direction talking to Satoru.

Megumi cleared his throat and placed the rolled up wire in the box with the others. Yuuji lifted a few metal grids off the floor and threaded one of his arms through them, so that the other could carry the rest. Megumi’s jaw twitched when Yuuji slowly smiled at him as he passed by, lips curling, teeth flashing, cheeks pulled outward. 

He wondered if what he and Yuuji had between them was wrong. He didn’t know if they were dating. What the hell was dating anyway? Yuuji was the kind of strength and passion, the kind of free-spirited wildness that could not be tied down by the term “lover”. 

It was around 12:00 when Megumi walked into the hotel building. Yuuji has a friend in Sendai from when his father would bring him to the city in his childhood, so he was staying there for the night. Satoru would be up for the next couple hours, since he could never get his brain to relax enough to fall asleep on the first try, and Maki would be out as soon as her head hit her pillow, Choso as well. 

Satoru liked to spoil them when they went out of Tokyo or Kyoto. He would get them each their own room. In Tokyo they stayed at Satoru and Megumi’s home, and in Kyoto they stayed in Satoru’s family home, so he was adamant about treating them when they were in new cities. 

Satoru held out Megumi’s  room key, Maki and Choso were already rushing to the elevator so that they could finally fall asleep. 

“I know you’re a highschooler but nothing from the fridge young man.” His father joked. Megumi scowled and snatched the key from him. 

“You’re hilarious.” He said in a bored voice as he headed towards the elevator himself, Choso and Maki long gone. Satoru smiled as he threw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders casually. 

“Do you think I should give the test on Monday or would that make everyone mad at me?” Satoru asked as he pressed the button for the elevator. 

“I think if you do, Itadori won’t pass. I don’t think he’s studied at all over the break.” Megumi responded. 

“Well,” Satoru sighed as they stepped inside, he pressed the button for their floor. “Based on his assignments he doesn’t seem to study when he’s not on break either.” 

Megumi hummed. Satoru spoke again, 

“I thought you were supposed to be tutoring him.” 

“It’s hard when he has the reading comprehension of a seventh grader.” He defended himself. 

“What about you, will you feel prepared if I give a test on Monday?” Satoru asked. 

Megumi looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is this teacher’s son favouritism?”

Satoru laughed. The door opened with a ding. The two of them walked out, Satoru’s arm fell back to his side. 

“No you’re just the only kid in my class who actually does well. I need you if I’m going to keep my job.” He joked,

 “We all know Yuuji’s not going to help me with that.” He continued. 

Megumi hummed in agreement. 

The two of them paused in the hallway. Satoru sucked a breath through his teeth. 

“But hey, God bless football and baseball-“ He defended, 

“Yes he’s very talented.” Megumi immediately responded. 

Megumi found his room, and Satoru slapped his back. 

“If you need anything I’m right down the hall.” 

He says that every trip, as if Megumi still needs him to tuck him in at night, or check his room for monsters. Megumi pretends to acknowledge what he’s said and locks the door behind him. His eyes are pulsing with sleep. His bones begin to feel heavy and the bed looks incredibly comfortable. 

But he hauls himself to the bathroom and splashes water on his face. He begrudgingly pulls his toothbrush from his backpack and rests his weight on a hand against the sink counter. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Tightening his teeth around the head of his toothbrush he checked the notification. 

Yuuji: It’s late. Have you got to the hotel yet? 

Me: Yes, were you worried? 

Yuuji: Isn’t that what I get paid to be? 

Me: I’m pretty sure you’re off the clock. 

Megumi let out a huff of air that was split by the toothbrush in his mouth. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He felt a suffocating curiosity as to what would happen if he sent what he was thinking. He felt the tightening grip of fear as he thought of what he might respond with. 

His thumbs began to move on their own, before he had a chance to stop himself. 

Me: Will you come here? 

Yuuji: I don’t know, I’m off the clock. 

Megumi’s stomach tightened, this time in dread. He couldn’t distinguish his tone over text. This wouldn’t be the first time Yuuji came to his hotel room if he were to accept. 

Yuuji: How badly do you want me to? It is late, and my friend was so kind as to host me 

Me: What if I get kidnapped by a lunatic fan? Wouldn’t that be my bodyguard’s fault? 

Yuuji: You make a compelling case. What about everyone else? 

Me: Asleep. 

Megumi’s thumbs moved on their own once more. 

Me: Are you planning on waking them up? 

Yuuji: Megumi’s got jokes! You’re gross 

A pause. Megumi’s mind races as he convinces himself he’s scared Yuuji away. 

Yuuji: I’ll be there in 15 

And in fifteen minutes Megumi found himself approaching the door. There was a faint but confident knock. 

His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he had taken, and was wearing one of Satoru’s old shirts that was a bit too big for his head, the collar creating a gentle circle around his collar bones, the edges of his shoulders, and the top of his back. 

When Megumi opened the door Yuuji was standing there with his backpack in his hand. Holding it by the handle and reaching into the open zipper. Out of the compartment he pulled out a small box of pizza. 

“Figured you’d be hungry.” He said. 

“I’m not.” Megumi replied. 

“Well, I am.” Yuuji shrugged as he walked into the room. He looked around for a few seconds, appreciating the colour of the walls, the pleasant smell of detergent and linen, and the soft lighting of the lamp next to the large bed. 

Megumi locked the door, and felt Yuuji’s eyes fall onto him. It’s happened so often it feels like a sixth sense now to know when he’s looking. 

“This is a new shirt?” Yuuji asked as he gently dropped the pizza onto the bed and flopped down onto it. 

“It’s my dad’s.” Megumi said, turning so his back was pressed against the wall. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched Yuuji fumble with the box. 

“These are nice sheets, don’t mess them up.” He warned. 

“They're not even yours.” Yuuji pouted as he directed a slice of pizza to his mouth, making an exaggerated ‘ahhh’ sound. 

“But I have to sleep in them.” Megumi muttered to himself. He sat down on the opposite side of the bed. He let his weight rest on his left palm. 

He let it slide. He felt the soft touch of the sheets and blankets gliding under his skin. He let his arm extend, he let his shoulder hit the soft bed. He let his stomach twist as he rolled onto his back, legs dangling off the bed. He smelled the pizza on Yuuji’s breath as he shifted slightly to make room for him. 

Megumi’s head landed directly beside Yuuji’s. He refused to let his head roll to the side. He closed his eyes and listened to Yuuji’s breathing. 

“What are you doing?” Yuuji asked him. 

Megumi didn’t really know. He just knows that he likes how the air gets thick around the two of them when only whispers exist in the space between them. He knows he feels sleep gnawing at his bone marrow when he’s alone with Yuuji, a safety washing over him that makes his eyes flutter and feet drag. 

Megumi hears the pizza box being shut. Weight lifts off the bed as Yuuji puts the box on the floor. Weight returns when he lays back down. Yuuji is on his back too, but he’s looking at Megumi. 

Megumi won’t look. 

He can feel Yuuji’s energy changing. That radiant power he emits focusing solely on Megumi, like he’s the only thing in the room. 

It’s blinding. It makes him feel dizzy, sometimes. 

“Hi.” Yuuji whispered. 

“Hey,” Megumi whispered back. Not looking. 

“You did really well tonight, I loved the show.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I like your riffs the best.” He whispered again. Almost expectantly. 

“Thank you.” Megumi repeated. 

“Are you going to look at me?” Yuuji asked, almost sounding nervous. Almost out of breath. “You invited me all the way here and you’re being mean.” 

Megumi could hear the pout in his voice. The playfulness. When he turned his head to face him, he was met with focused eyes and slightly parted lips. 

He wasn’t pouting. He didn’t look playful. 

Megumi’s breath hitches as he forces himself to sit up. 

Yuuji snaps, like he’s been jolted awake. Not angry, but as if he had been brought back to reality. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Megumi looked down at his hands, balled in fists in his lap. 

God, he’s such a bad son. 

His dad is a few doors down. He snuck Yuuji into his room. They’re not doing anything, they’re not going to, but it feels disgustingly intimate. His guilt throws up in his gut. He doesn’t want to think about how it’ll feel when he acknowledges that he’s sneaking around with a bandmate’s family member. 

Yuuji’s hand comes to grab the side of Megumi’s arm. Megumi lets his head lift. 

“Hey,” Yuuji says comfortingly beside his ear. “You’re exhausted from the performance. You should sleep.” 

Megumi does feel sleep enveloping his head, lulling as it falls backwards against Yuuji’s chest. This has never happened before. When Yuuji had come over to his hotel rooms before they just talked about anything or nothing until Yuuji decided he should leave to get some sleep. 

“Here,” Yuuji whispers. “Come here.” 

Megumi registers this is how he acts when he’s on the job. Yuuji gently pushes him down on the bed, getting up to fix the blankets. 

Then he climbs into the bed himself. Megumi rolls onto his side, Yuuji lays on his back. His hand is inches away. Megumi could let his arm reach behind him, and they’d touch. 

Yuuji’s hand gently brushes his shoulder. Megumi flinches. Yuuji’s hand twitches above him. Like he’s afraid to touch him. 

“Goodnight.” Yuuji whispered. Megumi felt blood rushing in his head. 

“Goodnight.” He said softly. 

After a few moments Megumi rolled onto his other side. Yuuji’s eyes were closed gently. Megumi brought a finger to his shoulder. 

He wondered what it would feel like without the thick air between them. He wondered how close he could get before feeling like he had to throw up. 

Yuuji’s voice sounded wistful and uncharacteristically soft. “Is it okay?” 

“Is what okay?” 

“If I hold you.” He didn’t open his eyes but they twitched under his eyelids.

Megumi felt the whole world come to a stop. Realistically he was probably only silent for a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. Yuuji wants to hold him. Sweet, dedicated, loyal, empathetic, and principled Yuuji.

“Why would you want that?” 

Yuuji took a slightly shaking breath, he was nervous. “Why did you want me here?” 

Megumi doesn’t answer. Instead he swallows his fear, his pride, and he places a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. Yuuji’s hand comes up to it, covering it delicately. He brings it to his chest, places it over his heart. Megumi can feel his heartbeat. 

“Am I alive?” Yuuji asks. 

It takes Megumi a moment to register why he is asking that question. “Yup.” He says. 

“Sweet.” Yuuji smiles. Then he goes silent. Megumi now feels incredibly awake. He brought himself an inch closer, it was probably half an inch more. Just until their shoulders were touching. Yuuji brought an arm up and over Megumi, his fingertips now brushing Megumi’s back. His other hand still kept Megumi’s on his chest.  

More silence. Then Yuuji whispers: “please sleep.” 

Before Megumi has a chance to argue, he does. 

Megumi wakes up at around 7 in the morning. The pizza box is gone, and he is alone in the bed. Like he always is when this happens. He reaches around for his phone, and finds it half tucked under one of the pillows. He turns it on to check the time. Satoru hasn’t come banging on his door so he assumes he isn’t late for breakfast. 

He sees a notification at the button of the screen, from 4am. 

Yuuji: I left, sorry, but I hope you slept alright! 

Me: Thanks, were you able to get back into your friend’s house? 

Yuuji: Yeah he’s got a spare key outside because he’s begging to get robbed or something 

As Megumi got dressed and brushed his teeth, waiting for Satoru to call him down, he thought about if what happened last night was weird or not. It sure felt like they were crossing some kind of invisibly drawn line. 

He was spitting water into the sink when there was a knock at his door. Megumi hoped that the turmoil he felt was only internal, since he knew quite well who was at the door. 

He opened it and stood face to face with his dad. He felt a pang of guilt. He’s hiding so much. 

Tsumiki always told him not to keep secrets from family. 

Yet, here he was. Hiding. 

“How’d you sleep?” Satoru asks. 

Megumi slept the best he’s had in a long time. He and Yuuji took breaths at different times, when Megumi’s head ended up on his chest it felt like soft rocking of an ocean. Their chests rose and fell with differing patterns, pinging off of each other like signals. 

“Good.” 

Satoru’s eyebrows raised. “Good? Not fine? Starting off the morning with a win, I like it.” 

Megumi’s scowl returned. 

“Pack up quickly and come downstairs. I have a surprise for you back home.” Satoru said. “Maki’s already up, but I need to go pull Choso out of bed.” Satoru’s hand came up to his chin, he was talking to himself more so than Megumi. 

Megumi packed his belongings in silence. Yuuji was going to meet them at the airport. He met Maki down in the lobby while Satoru returned the room keys. Choso was sitting on a lobby chair and passed out once again. Maki huffed and poked the side of his face. He groaned and swatted her away. 

“Do you have any idea what this surprise is?” She asked Megumi as she came around the back of Choso’s chair, placing her hands over his nose and mouth and pressing down harshly. He flailed and slapped her arms. 

“I’m up! I’m up!” 

She looked down at her handiwork with a proud glint in her eyes as Choso rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“No, I don’t.” Megumi answered. “Hopefully it’s that he’s emancipating me and moving far away.” 

Maki laughed, Satoru appeared behind Megumi and lightly flicked the back of his head. 

“Oh sure, I can do that.” He said casually, “I’d just take “Miki and the dogs with me.” He walked to the hotel doors and turned his head to stick his tongue out at Megumi. The rest of them followed to the car, which was going to drop them off at the airport. 

Maki stayed behind to haul Choso out of the chair, scolding him and barking orders at him as he yawned. 

Yuuji was already checked in when they got there. He stood on the other side of the roped line as Megumi and the others did the same. Afterwards, when they all had their passes and passports tucked safely in their bags, they began to look for the gate. 

Yuuji looked tired as well. Not in the same way as Choso, more of a dull tiredness. His eyebags were visible, and his feet dragged softly across the floor. 

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Satoru asked him, grabbing a coffee from an overpriced shop beside the gate. Yuuji and Megumi had gone with him to get everyone something to eat while Maki guarded the bags, and Choso fell asleep for the third time on an uncomfortable chair. 

“No I slept,” Yuuji nodded, “Just kept waking up, you know?” 

Satoru hummed and took a sip of his drink. Megumi looked at the menu posted on the back wall of the shop and pretended to think of what he was going to order. He was brought out of this when he heard Yuuji exclaim. When he turned his head towards the sound he was already gone. 

He was approaching a woman, around their age, who had a bag slung across her shoulders and a takeout bag in one hand. He approached her in a light jog. She walked up to him and held out her arms. He wrapped his around her and pulled the bag, his hands dragging down her arms to grab her wrists.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, what!” Yuuji exclaimed. The woman’s eyes closed as she threw her head back and laughed. She nodded. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m heading back to Tokyo!” He explained. 

Satoru headed towards the two of them and Megumi stayed in the same spot, but their bags were placed in front of him, so he had no honourable choice but to move. He had two options, he could go towards them, or back to Maki and Choso. 

He watched as Yuuji’s lips tightened into a sweet smile, crossing his arms and swaying back and forth as he enthusiastically listened to the woman explaining her travels with her family. 

Megumi recalls that Yuuji, in his youth, had visited Sendai very often with his grandfather and father; before he passed. If Megumi remembers correctly, he went to Sendai every summer. 

So it makes perfect sense for him to have friends here. Friends that he wants to catch up with in fleeting moments of running into each other. Friends that he is excited to see. Friends with arms that he runs his hands down. Friends with eyes that he smiles into. 

Megumi turned on his heels and walked towards Maki. He shoved the bag into her chest and let it fall into her lap. She glared at him as she caught it and began to sort through it. 

“Did Satoru and Yuuji get lost?” She asked, half joking. 

“Yuuji ran into someone.” Megumi explained, sitting next to a sleeping Choso and turning his attention to his phone. 

Maki leans forward and looks around for him. She hums and nods when her eyes finally land on him. “She’s pretty.” She observes. 

“Hm, is she?” Megumi says back. 

“Who is she?” 

“Don’t know.” 

Maki opens her sandwich and takes a bite, she wipes the corner of her mouth before she asks. “Does Yuuji have a girlfriend?” 

“No.” Megumi says quickly. 

“Really? I always see him walking with a girl at school-” 

“That’s Nobara, she’d rather kiss a frog than go out with him.” Megumi interrupted. 

“That seems dramatic.” 

“That’s a direct quote.” Megumi shrugs, “And yes, she is dramatic.” 

“I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t.” Maki said casually, “It’s like he has chemistry with every girl he’s around.” 

“Oh does he?” Megumi huffed. Maki’s nose scrunched. 

“You’re so pissy in the morning.” 

He chews on the inside of his bottom lip as he pretends to be paying attention to his phone. That is to say that he’s been rereading the same block of text on his social media the entire time he’s been in this chair because he can’t focus. Megumi knows that Yuuji is bound to get a girlfriend soon. He’s magnetic, ever charming, and a gentleman among beasts. 

He’s attentive and affectionate, he’s interested in what you have to say and asks you questions, he sees the best in you and makes an effort to hang out with you. He’s strong, and amazing at sports. Not to mention his face, the solidity of his jaw and cheekbones, the bushiness of his eyebrows opposing the soft length of his eyelashes, his slightly chapped lips that are covered in a layer of saliva when he’s focusing intensely on something. 

Megumi wonders if, if he was a girl, he would have fallen for Yuuji. This thought makes his history of his stomach dropping and head spinning when he’s around Yuuji more confusing. If he could say this, he would say that he is fairly confident that Yuuji is his. 

Maybe not in a romantic sense, Megumi certainly doesn’t have an explicit title over him, but in a different sense. In the sense that Yuuji always says yes when Megumi beckons him to his hotel rooms, that Yuuji always says yes when he asks for a ride home late at night, that Yuuji always gives him compliments then waits expectantly for Megumi’s response. 

Maybe thinking like this is his way of justifying the fact that he doesn’t want to look at Yuuji looking at a girl with focus close to the level he gives it at to him. 

When Satoru and Yuuji return to them, Megumi doesn’t look up from his phone. Yuuji sits down on the floor next to Megumi, since Choso is sleeping in the seat beside him. He leans an arm on the armrest of the chair and looks up at Megumi. Megumi doesn’t look down at him. 

Yuuji pokes his arm. Megumi looks down with a hum. 

He sees Yuuji’s big eyes looking up at him, almost like he was sad that Megumi hadn’t been looking at him since the moment he got back. 

“Who was that?” Megumi throws him a bone. 

“You know my friend I stayed with last night?” Yuuji says. It’s a half lie. Yuuji did not stay with him for all of last night. 

Megumi nods. He continues. 

“That’s his girl. The three of us used to play basketball all the time together when we were kids.” He says in a quieter voice. 

Megumi begins to feel guilty. He had no right to feel poorly when looking at Yuuji smiling down at her. He had no right to justify not feeling those feelings by expressing some kind of emotional or social claim on Yuuji. Besides, he was completely misled, Yuuji had no interest in her. He isn’t the kind of guy to go for a taken woman. 

Then, Megumi’s brain begins to churn. Why did he look at him so expectantly? Was Yuuji waiting for him to ask who that was so he could answer him with an identity that said: she’s not for me? 

Yuuji is still looking up at him, confidently waiting for Megumi to say something back to him. 

“Fun, nice you ran into her.” He says, curious as to how Yuuji will react. 

His eyes soften and a small smile twitches in his lips, almost like he’s relieved. Megumi tries not to think about that expression for the rest of the time they spend waiting to board. He also tries to not think about how their knees are pressed against each other on the airplane seats. He also tries to not think about how Yuuji is leaning onto the armrest between them, their shoulders whispering to each other. All the while, he tries to not think about how he fell asleep in his arms last night. 

Satoru becomes restless when they land. He’s always been a bit restless, but this was strange. He stood at the back of the group so he could usher everyone to clear security faster, and anxiously tapped his foot on the ground as they waited for those in front of them in the hallways to move faster. 

“What’s up with you?” Megumi asked as Satoru pushed him into the arrivals terminal. He looked over his shoulder and fumbled over his feet. Satoru just grinned and pointed in front of him. 

There was a crowd of people in the hallway. They all had signs, held above their heads, so that the people they were picking up could find them. Megumi groaned and looked out into the crowd. Was there something he was supposed to be seeing?

“No.” Maki said, turning to Satoru, her hands limp by her side. 

“Yes!” Satoru nodded as he nudged her forward. Choso and Yuuji stopped walking as Maki bolted off with a powerful light jog. Megumi’s eyes followed her. 

“What.” He said. Yuuji made a confused sound and looked between Megumi and Satoru. 

“Well, go on.” Satoru said. He started walking, at a faster speed than he’d like to have started off with. 

Maki sped up and landed in someone’s arms. The sign dropped to the ground as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. They separated and he pressed a soft kiss on her temple. She stepped to the side. Megumi stood in front of him, mouth slightly open. 

He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Megumi remembers the day that he had Tsumiki come to Satoru’s house. Hiding behind his leg at the front door was a young boy who looked Megumi’s age. He was a year older. His hair was long, because he cried every time he went to the barbers shop, and he had deep set eyebags from frequent night terrors. Satoru walked with ease despite the added weight of this boy clinging onto his leg. 

He brought Megumi and Tsumiki to the couch where he placed them beside each other. He sat down next to Tsumiki, and the little boy sat down beside him. Megumi peered around Tsumiki’s shoulder to look at the boy. 

He was doing the same, peering around Satoru. 

“This is Yuuta,” Satoru introduced, “Yuuta, can you say hi?” 

“Hi.” The boy said meekly. Satoru brushed a hand through his hair. 

“This is your brother, Megumi. This is your sister, Tsumiki,” Satoru said softly, “Do you want to show them your room? You can show them your rock collection.” 

Yuuta nodded and plopped himself on his feet, sliding off the couch. He silently waited for the other two to follow. Tsumiki did, then Megumi did. In silence the three of them walked to his room, and in silence they watched him pull a box from his bookshelf and open it, to show a few dozen rocks stacked on top of each other. 

Yuuta began to explain each one, whispering, sort of. Stuttering, sort of. 

He and Megumi shared a room while Tsumiki got one to herself. “She’s a young lady,” Satoru explained to the two of them as they stood in the door frame, watching him assemble a vanity to go into her room. “She needs her own space away from us icky boys.” 

One night Megumi couldn’t sleep and so he sat on the couch in the living room. He convinced himself that there was a monster under his and Yuuta’s shared bunk bed. Yuuta took the top bunk, so he didn’t notice the monster. He flinched when he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. The monster had found him. 

No, it was just Yuuta. He approached Megumi, yawning. He sat down beside him. “What’s wrong?” Yuuta asked. Megumi hid his face in his knees, and whispered something. 

Yuuta scooted closer, Megumi repeated what he had said, but it was still too muffled by his knees. So, Yuuta lifted his head and pressed their cheeks together. 

“Okay, ready,” he said to Megumi. 

“There’s a monster in our room.” Megumi explained again. Yuuta chewed on his lip. If he was scared, he didn’t tell Megumi. 

“I can get rid of it.” He said, hopping off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a flashlight, he stands in front of Megumi with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips. 

“I’ve been practicing.” He declared. 

“Really?” Megumi asked sheepishly. “You know how to get rid of it?” 

Yuuta grabbed his fisted hand and led him back to their room. Together they laid on their stomachs in front of the bunk bed. Yuuta grabbed the blanket that was hanging off of Megumi’s bed and counted: 

“Three…Two…one!” Yuuta quickly tossed up the blanket, clicked on the flashlight, threw the flashlight onto the ground below the bed, and let go of the blanket. 

Megumi, on the count of one, had slammed his head into the carpet and covered his eyes. Yuuta nudged him. When he opened one of his eyes and peered through his fingers he saw a dim light coming from underneath where the blanket was making a wall between them and under his bed. 

“There, the light is going to keep the monster away.” Yuuta explained. 

“How did you know what to do?” Megumi asked him, laying his head on his folded hands, his cheek squished. 

“I practiced.” Yuuta said. Then he got shy. “It’s a big brother’s job to get rid of monsters.” 

“It is?” 

“That’s what dad told me before you guys came to live with us. He said I needed to learn so that I could get rid of monsters for you.” 

“I don’t need a brother.” Megumi said, becoming defensive at the warm feeling spreading through his chest. 

“But I do.” Yuuta said quietly, “that’s why I practiced so much.” 

When they were older Yuuta went on a world tour with a large and upcoming band. Megumi had gone through a lot, and Tsumiki had gotten really sick, so their relationship took a bit of a strain in Megumi’s teenage years.

Megumi didn’t realize how much he missed him until he was right in front of him. 

Megumi let Yuuta wrap his arms around him. “I missed you.” Yuuta sighed into the top of his head. He styled his hair differently now, he had gotten taller, and filled his clothes out more now. 

“Hi.” Megumi said awkwardly. Yuuta felt very safe to him. He was able to bathe in a respect and admiration that he had for no other. 

Yuuji cleared his throat as Yuuta brushed his hands through Megumi’s hair and looked him up and down, saying he had gotten skinny and asked if he was eating enough. 

Yuuta’s attention turned to Yuuji. Choso was standing right behind him. 

“Uh,” Megumi started, “Yuuta, this is Yuuji Itadori and Choso Kamo, Yuuji’s brother.” 

Yuuta shook both of their hands. “Yuuta Okkotsu, I’m Megumi’s brother. My dad has told me a little about you both, it’s great to finally meet you!” 

Yuuji flashes him one of his signature smiles. Megumi distracts himself by asking: 

“Does Miki know you’re here? Wait, when did you get here?” 

Yuuta opened his mouth to answer but cut himself off to kiss Maki’s forehead as she interlocked their hands. “I got here just a few hours ago, I dropped my things off at home but Miki was out. Don’t tell her, it’ll be a surprise for tonight.” 

Satoru gave Yuuta a hug, and they all began to migrate out of the middle of the hallway. As they approached the door nearby, Yuuji tapped Megumi on the shoulder. 

“Choso and I are gonna go, let you guys catch up.” 

“Oh. Okay, are you sure?” Megumi asked him. He always got a bittersweet rhythm in his gut when Yuuji said goodbye to him. 

“Yeah, you should catch up with your brother. I will see you soon though anyways, right?” 

He would. The two are never apart for long, it seems. 

“Yeah. See you.” Megumi said. Yuuji smiled at him and waved goodbye, turning on his heels as he approached Choso. 

Megumi’s head is turned over his shoulder as he approaches the door. Satoru throws an arm around him again. 

“Something got your attention?” He asked. Megumi pushed him off. The car ride was filled with the noise of Yuuta explaining all of the experiences that he had while on tour. Followed by curious questions, and his phone being passed around to show pictures. 

When they got home, Yuuta fell onto the couch. He was exhausted from travelling. Maki sat down beside him, and he shifted himself to rest his head on her lap, turning onto his back and interlocking their hands in his hair. 

Megumi scrunched his face at the two of them. He sat on the bottom of the stairs. Satoru didn’t feel like cooking for dinner, so he started to order food online for them. Yuuta yawned and rolled his head to the side to ask Megumi. 

“So, tell me more about Yuuji and Choso? Since I’ll be in town for a while now, and all.” 

Megumi placed his chin on a hand propped up on his knee. “Yuuji is in my grade and we both take dad’s physics class. Choso is a hematologist.” He said, “But you can learn more about them when you actually talk to them yourself.” 

“True.” Yuuta said. He lifted his head up to look into the kitchen where Satoru was on the phone, he watched their dad as he paced back and forth giving the order, then watched as he entered his home office, mindlessly walking throughout the house while listing off food items.

“But I’m really curious about Yuuji.” Yuuta continued.

Megumi’s eyes thinned. “Why?” 

“You’re always so suspicious of everything. Can’t I just be curious?” 

“Did dad say anything weird? You know you can’t trust anything he says.” 

Yuuta smiles innocently. “What would dad have told me?” 

Maki chuckled, then swallowed, pretending she hadn’t. Megumi pushed himself onto his feet and let his arm swing by his side. He grabbed the railing of the stairs with the intention of locking himself in his room until dinner, as usual. Or, at least until Tsumiki got home. 

Yuuta called out, again in a sickeningly innocent voice, “What? Did I say something?” 

“You’re just as annoying as dad, I don’t know why we pretend you aren’t.” Megumi said, leaning over the top of the stairs.

Closing the door to his room behind him, he fell onto his bed with a soft thud, and unlocked his phone. They still had one more show, a final one in Tokyo, the weekend before spring break was over. That show was to happen in two days. Satoru was the one who was generally in charge of their band’s social media accounts, but Maki and Megumi frequently on it to talk to their listeners. 

He looked at threads, posts, and stories, of their fans excitedly talking about the upcoming show. He made sure to like them all, and to comment how excited they were as well. Sometimes it felt weird to see pictures of himself posted by other people. He thought he looked wildly different while he was performing, and others agreed. 

His eyebrows were knitted together in an enthrallment, his hand gripped the mic stand so hard his knuckles turned white, his nose scrunched as he sang, and he felt himself contracting in on himself under the sheer intensity of the sounds around him. 

Satoru described him as looking vulnerable when he was on stage, Megumi supposed that was a good way to describe how he felt when he was on stage too. 

As he scrolled on his phone, he came across a post that made his eyebrows shoot up. It was a photo that a fan had posted from one of their previous shows.They were located in the front row, and instead of taking a picture of the three performers on stage, they had taken a picture of someone else. 

Someone who stood in front of the stage in all black, pants too large for him secured with a tight belt, a snug shirt that wrapped around biceps like a silk glove, straining as the person crossed his arms in front of his chest, and the shirt stretched across his stomach like it was threatened by the idea of air. Sweat formed on his forehead as he looked to the side, his jaw pulled tight, his lips slightly parted as he was mid conversation with the person beside him in the same uniform. He had an earpiece in his ear, his hair looked soft in the picture; Megumi didn’t know how that was possible. 

His head and body were broad and square, masculine and present. His lips, as he spoke, were curled in such a way that his canine teeth caught the light of the camera. His eyes were wild with a mix of focus and excitement. 

The caption read: Has anyone else noticed this hot bodyguard recently??? 

Megumi sat up, his stomach clenching as he forced himself upright. He nearly dropped his phone in his lap. 

He stared at that photo of Yuuji until the phone screen went black. When he noticed it, he quickly turned his phone back on and checked the comments. 

-Well hello there gorgeous is he single?

-Fine shyyyyt 

-Oh my god yes I’ve been obsessed recently 

-This isn’t funny I actually need him SO BAD 

Megumi felt heat rising to his face alongside another emotion that he couldn’t name. He was thankful for the distraction that was the front door opening. A cheer and laughter flooded the house as the sound of dropping bags could be heard. 

Megumi opened his door, slotting his phone in his pocket and looking down from the stairs. Tsumiki had Yuuta in a tight hug, she kissed the top of his head and started to jump up and down. Yuuta was taller than her now, they both were; which she often complained about: 

‘Little brothers are supposed to be little!’ she would say. 

Yuuta was bent over slightly, turning red at how Tsumiki’s hug was cutting off his ability to breathe. 

He pushed her gently so that he could finally take a breath. She brought her hands to her mouth and begged him to tell her all about the trip. 

He walked down the stairs to say hello to her himself, and tried his hardest to ignore how his phone was burning a hole in his pocket. 

Yuuta, Maki, and Satoru sat on one side of the table, while Megumi and Tsumiki sat on the other. At the dinner table he was silent, which was not out of character for him. He stuffed his mouth full of chicken and rice so he didn’t have to talk. 

“Don’t worry Megs, no one is going to take that from you.” Satoru whistled. Megumi huffed at him with his mouth full. 

The table fell into a comfortable silence when Satoru’s phone rang. He excused himself and got up from the table. 

“Hey. No yeah, I can talk now, what’s up?” He said as he left the kitchen. He went to his office so that he could talk without disturbing anyone else. 

His work kept him incredibly busy, with being a leading teacher in their school as well as working with the teachers union. 

As soon as Satoru was gone, and Megumi had swallowed his mouth full of food, his loud mouth took over his rational brain. 

“I need to show you something.” he declared, reaching into his pocket. His siblings and cousin leaned in slightly. He slammed his phone onto the table. 

“What are we looking for?” Tsumiki asked, wiping her mouth with her napkin. Yuuta squinted, Maki stayed silent for a few moments. 

“Oh,” She said with a shrug, “That’s funny, I guess.” 

“It’s not supposed to be funny.” Megumi sighed to her. 

“What is it supposed to be?” She asked. Yuuta whistled. He had opened the comments. 

“Oh wow, people really like him.” 

“And you don’t find that weird?” Megumi said, exasperation growing in his voice. 

“Haven’t you heard?” Maki said, returning to her food. “Once you become popular to the general public, you’re no longer a human being. You actually waver all your rights to privacy and being treated with dignity.” She placed some rice in her mouth. 

“Ah yeah that is actually very true.” Yuuta nodded quickly. 

Megumi groaned. “Why aren’t you guys upset about this?” This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. He was expecting them to be as weirded out as he was, to feel as awkward as he did when looking at the picture, to feel as defensive as he did when reading the comments. 

“Why are you so upset about it?” Maki asked, casually; once more. 

“I know why he’s upset.” Tsumiki mused. A grin spread terrifyingly quickly across her face.

“No,” Megumi said quickly, anticipating what she was going to say, “you don’t.” 

“Because Megs is jealous!” She sighed softly, pouting and poking at his face, 

“No I’m not-”

“He wants Yuuji, his best friend, all to himself!” She mused and dreamily sighed, clasping her hands together and leaning towards him. 

He leaned away as far as he could without falling out of his chair. “No I don’t-” 

“What do they call that, is that bromance?” Tsumiki asked herself, bringing a hand to her chin. 

Yuuta was back at looking at the comments, he whistled again, “Woah.” He laughed to himself as he continued to scroll. Megumi, feeling his face heat up, snatched his phone away and got up, his chair scraping across the floor. 

“What?” Yuuta said quickly, face turning to concern as Megumi scowled and walked out of the kitchen. Actually, stormed is a better word for it. 

“Megs!” He called out, voice becoming thin, Tsumiki’s sounded a little guilty: 

“We were only teasing!” 

Megumi huffed as he returned to the solitude of his room. He didn’t understand how they could be so unaffected. Didn’t they think this was weird? Megumi sat on his bed and thought to himself.

Yuuji was what most people would consider attractive. He had good bone structure, nice glassy skin, thick hair and eyebrows, and a smile that no one else could replicate. Yuuji was unwaveringly energetic and optimistic, it made sense that the universe rewarded him with being a magnet. 

So why did Megumi feel so weird about this post? There wasn't anything wrong with it. Girls at school fawn over boys all the time. Boys go mad over girls. Though, it wasn’t just others fawning over Yuuji that was making Megumi feel this way. It was the photo itself. 

He looked good in the photo. Megumi would have to be blind or stupid to deny that, and he was neither of those things. He brought his hands to his cheeks, they were incredibly warm. Guilt and shame came rushing into his bloodstream. 

He did feel horrible about feeling, and thinking, about his friend this way. Especially because he couldn’t put a name to these feelings and thoughts. 

When he was around Yuuji it was like everything was silent and ten times louder at the same time. It was as if he was floating on water and being drowned in sand. Yuuji was unshakable, when he was in the same room as Megumi he had no choice but to notice him. It was like someone had put a spell on him. 

A spell that acted in subtle moments. A spell that made him sad when Yuuji had to leave, a spell that made him aware of his chapped lips rather than the way his sports jerseys strained when he flexed. Of course, though, his eyes made their way there too. 

Then he would feel a horrible aching of guilt. He shouldn’t be thinking about Yuuji this way. 

He shouldn’t feel annoyed at others for posting about him. He shouldn’t feel defensive, as if he had any claim on him. He shouldn’t feel like he and Yuuji’s shared looks and brushes of their bodies meant that the air between them was any more special than the air between any two people. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. 

But God, did he. 

When he threw himself onto his back, his phone dinged. He squinted at the bright screen as he brought it in front of his face. 

Yuuji: *Sent an attachment* LMAO am I famous now too? 

Megumi cursed his existence. Yuuji was a persistent stain on his existence. He typed back without hesitating. 

Me: Don’t let it get to your head 

Yuuji: I guess the workout routine has been working

Me: Not excited for how this is going to inflate your ego. Which is already too big, by the way

Yuuji: Well that is why I hang out with you, dear Megumi, to keep me humble and grounded 

Me: I’m not being thanked for my service enough, then. 

Yuuji: Don’t worry I will try my best to not steal all of your fan girls

Me: You can have them. I don’t want them. 

Yuuji: Such a generous king, don’t worry you’ll always be my favourite 

Me: …your favourite fan girl? 

Yuuji: Uhm are you not a fan of me? 

Me: No

Yuuji: But all the homework we did in the library together ...all the games you showed up for…did it mean nothing to you? Was I just a casual thing?! 

Me: Maybe pursue a career in drama if sports doesn’t work out. 

Yuuji: Talent is my curse to bare 

Me: Bear 

Yuuji: lmao okay? Grr I guess 

Me: oh my god goodnight don’t text me

Yuuji: What why are you so mean :( 

Yuuji: Okay goodnight tho 

Yuuji: I’ll drop off a jar of honey at your house and some berries hopefully that fixes your mood, grumpy 

Megumi ignores his messages and lets an arm fall over his eyes. There is silence, and Megumi feels something that he can’t describe solidifying within him. Behind his eyelids he can see that picture. Did he really look at it that intensely? 

Whatever these feelings were, Megumi wished they would leave him alone, but not even sleep could keep his mind away from Yuuji. He became painfully aware of how empty his bed was, how vacant, how spacious. He laid on his side and pressed his hand into the soft blanket, regrettably, wishing it were something more solid and warm. 

Maki and Megumi, excited and thrilled by Yuuta’s return and long term stay in Tokyo, decided to bring him out during their last show as a surprise guest. Yuuta had his own share of fame and fortune, becoming a global name, and well known for his melodious voice. 

The two days before the show passed in a few hours, it felt like. They spent that time locked in Satoru’s basement teaching Yuuta the lyrics to a few of their songs. 

The time finally came, and they were loading themselves into the empty venue. There was a backstage area filled with boxes of equipment to be unpacked, and a crew of people in front setting up their metal rails to separate the audience from the stage, which was being assembled by the venue’s staff. 

As Megumi and Yuuji helped with the set up, they could feel each other’s eyes on them. Yuuji was a few feet away, sorting out wires for the microphones and speakers, speaking to another security employee. They were chatting, laughing, and nodding at each other. Megumi was beside Yuuta, setting up the mic stands, and out of the corner of his eye noticed that Yuuji was looking at him while talking to the other. He had his head tilted slightly backward and to the side to give the impression of paying attention to the person he was speaking to, but his eyes were almost glued onto the side of Megumi’s head. 

Someone called Yuuji over to help them carry the sound board into the room. His strength was eternally helpful to all present. When he returned he carried the sound board in one hand, and the other was wrapped around a handle of a speaker that was to be mounted to a stand to hide in the upper parts of the wings. 

Megumi tried his hardest not to stare, truly he did. But Yuuji had decided to wear a short sleeve shirt, so Megumi was being mocked and yelled at by his forearms, flexing and twisting as the weight distributed itself across his body. 

He bit the inside of his cheek quickly to bring his attention back to what he needed to do. Once the stage was assembled, Megumi sat on it and began to tune his guitar for the tenth time that day. It was calming, and it became a ritual he did before shows as a childish and foolish good luck charm. Yuuji appeared behind him, he whispered an apology for his reach as he knelt behind him. A hand came to his lower back as Yuuji stretched to reach a toolbox that was beside Megumi. 

Megumi felt his body stiffen. Yuuji’s hand was barely on him, it was more like an anticipatory safety net if Megumi were to somehow, miraculously, fall backwards. An unnecessary closeness. A welcome one. 

Yuuji whispered a thanks, his breath tickling Megumi’s neck. When Yuuji left, he took a deep breath, returning to his guitar. His fingers fumbled with the strings, the tuning pegs slipped out of his fingers. Eventually, he got up and retreated to the backstage area, where he didn’t have to be close to Yuuji, lifting lights over his shoulder like they were paper weights. 

He didn’t notice that Yuuta was also backstage, he had an open water bottle in his hand. He sat down next to Megumi behind the back curtain, where there was a small walkway for performers to get across the stage. 

Megumi ignored him as he fiddled with his guitar. 

“You and Yuuji are close?” His brother asked. 

 “Well yeah? We’re friends.” 

“Right, yeah no I know that.” Yuuta said awkwardly, he clenched his water bottle, the plastic made a horrid crunching sound. He let go, and it crackled to its original position. He awkwardly looked around. 

“Like how clos-” 

“What are you asking me?” Megumi interrupted him, sighing and letting go of his guitar. 

“Oh nothing, nothing.” Yuuta turned his shoulders to face Megumi and waved his hands. 

“Great.” Megumi nodded and turned his attention back to his guitar. 

“Great.” Yuuta repeated, more drawn out, he tapped his fingers against his water bottle. 

Satoru, with his ever cosmically convenient timing, peeked his head around the corner of the left wing into the backstage area. He spotted them and walked forwards. “There you are boys,” He said, “Come for sound check?” 

Yuuta and Megumi hopped onto their feet. Megumi was starting to feel the familiar nerves and butterflies in his stomach that he always got before a show. Especially more so because Yuuta was back. Despite all the grief that Megumi gives him, and despite the way he talks to him, he greatly respects and values the opinion of his brother. 

When Satoru took him and Tsumiki in, they came from two different worlds. Satoru, Tsumiki, and himself knew that he wasn’t really their dad, and they weren’t really his kids. Satoru understood the emotional toil that both of them had taken on from their life before him, but he didn’t understand how to teach them to cope with it. He tried his best, Megumi won’t deny him that acknowledgement. He did a good job. He was, by no means, an unfit or bad parent. 

He was just from a different stage of life, and that was no one’s fault. Megumi assumes it actually brought them closer, because their relationship was dependent on understanding the other person, they couldn’t rely on familial or blood ties to connect them emotionally. 

Yuuta helped bridge that gap. He had his own horrid past before Satoru, but being closer in age to Tsumiki and Megumi he was able to connect them to Satoru; to his wisdom and teachings as a father. 

Yuuta was also where Megumi could go when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t go to Satoru. After his first date when he kissed a girl. After Tsumiki had gotten sick and lived in the hospital, Megumi decided to cope with that by going to parties. Yuuta was a big reason that Megumi found music as a way to release the unwavering sadness and anger inside of him. 

Once the sound check was completed, Megumi, Maki, Choso, and Yuuta stood in a circle backstage. They leaned in close to listen to Maki talk. She did this before every show, as well. It was her ritual. Her good luck charm. She spoke words of confidence into each of them. 

It was the part of the pre-performance stage that Megumi liked the most. The solitude of the backstage area being broken by their presence, their shared presence. The energy boils over in their guts as they come together to celebrate the thing that they all love. The way that they connect with each other, making it feel as though they are all one organism working in multiple parts. 

Megumi has tunnel vision, the only thing he could see is his love for music, and his love for being a vessel to the songs that he has written. 

The familiar rush of being on stage, under the bright lights, looking out at a crowd of screaming people, washed over Megumi as he caught his breath. The excitement in his stomach only grew as they started the next song. This was the one where Yuuta would come out. He was standing in the wings watching the others perform with a proud and delicate look on his face. 

As Megumi sang the beginning of the song, the crowd began to cheer, after the first drum solo, it was Yuuta’s voice that rang out. He stood in the wings, holding his mic, still hidden. 

Megumi and Maki smiled at each other as the crowd began to scream. Yuuta walked out and waved as he kept singing. He was the best singer in the family, and the room could tell. The energy shifted, his voice was ten times more professional than Megumi’s. Satoru whistled. Megumi felt his previous feelings of confusion rip from his brain, nothing else mattered to him except for this moment. 

Though, Megumi should have learned by now that he is not allowed to want things. He is not allowed to enjoy things, or express any claim over experiences that he believes are his to experience with indulgence. 

He didn’t notice when he arrived on stage. He didn’t know how he even ended up there. All he knew was that there was yelling down below him, he stuttered and looked down to see security running. His eyebrows lowered and eyes thinned as he looked around. Choso had gotten up and was running towards the stage right wing, where Maki was standing. Yuuta was running there as well. They raised their hands and called out to someone, there was another round of screams and Megumi felt his head being pushed down. 

Yuuji twisted his arm to push Megumi’s head down and pull him into his back, facing Maki, who had turned around and tripped into Yuuta’s arms. He was pulling her back while Choso covered them. Someone was yelling. Someone was yelling threats. 

Yuuji pushed Megumi off stage where Satoru grabbed his arm and pulled him the rest of the way off stage, he shoved Megumi to climb the stairs down off the stage where others guided him through a door. 

He looked over his shoulder to see Satoru on stage now as well, the crowd was being ushered back by other security employees. Before the door slammed in his face he saw Maki being led down the stairs by Yuuta followed by Choso, Satoru was on stage trying to calm the individual down. The individual lunged at Satoru, Yuuji’s fist swung and landed on their jaw with a loud crack. Megumi’s breath hitched as the door slammed closed. 

He stumbled backwards. Moments later the door opened again and Maki, Yuuta, and Choso walked in. Choso had an arm on Maki’s shoulder while she caught her breath. 

Not much scared Maki, but she looked afraid. That made Megumi’s face turn cold. Yuuta brought her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. 

“I’m so sorry,” He said quickly. 

“What happened?” Megumi asked. Yuuta left Maki to grab Megumi’s shoulder and slide his hand to the nape of his neck, affectionately squeezing it. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuta repeated. 

“For what?” Megumi asked as Yuuta squeezed his shoulder. 

“He came here for me,” He explained. “I’m so sorry guys.” 

“It’s fine.” Choso said decisively, bringing Yuuta’s attention to him. “No one’s hurt, you didn’t do anything wrong either.” 

The four of them ended up in a room near the back of the building. It was a small green room with some couches, stools, and a mirror on one of the walls. They sat there, and waited for someone to come get them. 

Maki curled her knees into her chest and fiddled with her fingers. Megumi has never once seen her scared. Choso was standing by the door with his arms and legs crossed, he looked angry. Yuuta’s face was ridden with guilt, he sat next to Maki with an arm on her knee. Megumi sat on a stool and leaned his back against a wall, letting his head fall back. 

How did this happen? How did that man get on stage? This was the first time that anything of this nature had happened, Megumi was embarrassed to admit that he didn’t even think of it as a plausible possibility. 

Satoru opened the door, Yuuji walked in behind him. He had an ice pack on his knuckles which were already purple. Megumi’s breathing stopped as he stared at Yuuji’s hand. He followed him with his eyes as he sat on the stool beside him. Megumi brought his hand to Yuuji’s wrist, holding it and lifting it slightly. 

“It’s nothing.” Yuuji said, but his face was wincing, and his fingers twitched. Megumi softly let go of him. 

“What was that?” Megumi asked the room, then he looked at Yuuta, “What do you mean he came for you?” 

Yuuta sighed and ran a hand down his face. “In an interview during the world tour I was on, there was a question and answer portion, I answered a question and made a statement that I was for same sex marriage. After I did that a lot of people started trying to contact or find me. It made a lot of people upset.” 

Megumi scoffed. “Wait, that’s it? That’s all you did to make that guy so royally pissed off?” 

“For some people, it’s enough.” Satoru said solemnly. 

“How do you know that it was because of-” He started, Yuuta sighed, 

“He’s wearing a pin with the symbol of a popular content creator who’s against all that stuff. It’s a really nasty group.” 

Megumi looked back and forth between his brother and his dad. “There has to be more. He tried to assault us because Yuuta said he doesn’t care if two guys or two girls get married?” 

“Megs,” Satoru started, 

“That’s so fucking stupid.” Megumi said. 

“I know it is.” Satoru nodded, “but it’s what happened. Did any of you get hurt?” 

They all stayed quiet. Satoru’s head lowered. “Maki? I saw him go for you.” 

“I’m fine,” Maki said. “Just pissed.” She looked up from her hands. He gave her a sympathetic smile. 

“Did anyone else get hurt?” Choso asked. 

Yuuji shook his head. “Nope, I think I knocked him over, venue security called the police, he’s handled." 

“It was an incredibly hard punch.” Satoru agreed. 

“Improper one though,” Yuuji laughed to hide his wince as he showed off his hand. “Don’t think I broke my hand or anything though.” He added when he saw Choso’s eyes widen. 

Satoru looked at all of them affectionately, a kind of affection that only those who knew him would be able to recognize. 

“I think we should all go home hm? I can handle everything, so none of you worry your young little heads about it.” He said, in the same cheery voice that made Megumi feel like a child again. 

Choso offered to drive them home, while Satoru was talking to the venue staff. The car ride was silent. For their trouble, Satoru offered that Choso and Yuuji stayed at his place. They both accepted. When they pulled into the driveway, Tsumiki was waiting outside the front door. 

She grabbed Maki’s hand and went to open the door for them. “Dad told me what happened.” She explained. “Choso and Yuuji I set up the living room, please tell me if you need anything more okay?” 

The couch had been set up with blankets and pillows, on the floor there was a mattress from the basement, covered with fresh sheets, blankets, with two pillows. Satoru came home late, he sat with Yuuta in the kitchen, the light being the only brightness throughout the house, and explained to him why he shouldn’t blame himself for what happened earlier. 

Yuuta couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility, though. Megumi, having grown up as he did, couldn’t sleep when a kitchen light was on and whispers could be heard. He sat at the top of the stairs, sleep threatening to pull his body under a wave of exhaustion and undeserved rest, but he persevered. He kept his eyes open, he kept his ears alert to deciphering the whispered words of his brother and dad. Choso was asleep in the living room, he took the mattress on the ground so that Yuuji could sleep on the couch. 

Maki shared a room with Tsumiki. 

But when Megumi looked down into the living room he found the couch was empty. Through the dark he couldn’t see the figure moving but he could hear it. He heard it as it climbed the steps, pausing a few steps below Megumi to whisper. 

“Can’t sleep either?” 

Yuuji’s voice. Megumi shook his head, but he doubted Yuuji could see it in the darkness. Megumi moved to the side so that Yuuji could sit on the same stair beside him. 

“Are they keeping you up?” Yuuji asked. Megumi shook his head, then, remembering the darkness, responded. 

“No, I just can’t sleep.” 

“You sound tired.” 

“I do?” 

“Yeah, your voice gets different when you’re tired.” Yuuji said, as if observing Megumi was the most casual and typical thing to do. As if remembering the way his voice sounds when he’s tired is an activity that all friends partake in. 

“How’s your hand?” Megumi redirects. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Yuuji sighs, “I should be worrying about you, that must’ve been scary for you.” 

“Who said you get to decide what I worry about.” Megumi said, resting his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair. Exhaustion seeping deeper into his skin, diluting his bloodstream. 

“Fair point, my hand is fine, just a bit sore is all.” Yuuji answered. There was a beat of silence. 

“It wasn’t as scary as it was confusing, then aggravating.” Megumi answered his question. 

“I don’t understand why he would do something like that.” Yuuji murmured. 

“Or why anyone would.” Megumi continued. “Or think like that.” He added. Yuuji hummed. There was more silence. 

Megumi remembered the feeling of Yuuji pushing his head down, awkwardly twisting his arm in order to see the threat in front of them and keep Megumi safe behind him at the same time. Although it was Maki who was closest to him, Yuuji went to Megumi first. Yuuji had passed him onto Satoru before going towards the actual attacker. 

That indicated that Megumi was his priority at that moment. Was that a selfish thing? Was that something that Megumi even had any right to speculate on? 

“Satoru made a statement online on the band’s account, apologizing for the incident.” Yuuji said. 

“Like we should be the ones apologizing.” Megumi scoffed quietly. Yuuji looked at him through the darkness, Megumi still had his head between his knees. 

Yuuji stood up beside him, and tapped Megumi on the shoulder. “Come on, you need to sleep.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I can see right through you, you know?” Yuuji said, grabbing Megumi’s forearm and peeling it away from his head. “You’re staying up because you’re listening in on your dad and brother, because you’re worried about them. I know you a lot better than you think I do.” 

Megumi huffed and let himself be lifted by Yuuji. When his feet were back under him they both walked quickly into his room. Yuuji closed the door behind the two of them, Megumi turned on the lamp on his bedside table. He sat on his bed and shook his head slightly. 

“I don’t get it. I don’t get how this small thing that Yuuta said was enough to make someone want to attack him on stage.” 

Yuuji sat down beside him, and put a hand beside his hip, leaning his eight on it, leaning in comfortingly. “I don’t get it either,” He said, “All I know is that the most important thing to me was that you all were okay.” 

“This life is strange,” Megumi reflected, “Maki is right, you stop being a human being. You need to pick and choose what you reveal to the public in order to stay safe.” 

“Let’s not think about that right now.” Yuuji said, leaning in another inch. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He whispered. Megumi turned his head to look at him. Yuuji was looking at him with that expectant and anticipatory expression again. 

His eyes were soft yet focused, Megumi was the only thing in the room to him. 

“Do you think you could stay here?” Megumi asks selfishly. He is selfish because he feels safer when Yuuji is around, like he can let down an invisible wall that he didn’t remember building. He is selfish because he’s never slept better than that night that Yuuji held him in his sleep. He is selfish because he wants. He is selfish because he asks. 

Yuuji doesn’t respond. Megumi’s stomach twists, and he feels like he might throw up. “At least until I fall asleep. Is that okay?” 

“More than okay.” Yuuji finally says. He gets off the bed so that Megumi can lay down. He helps him pull down the blankets so that Megumi can fit himself underneath them. He turns off the lamp on the bedside table and walks slowly to the other side of the bed. 

The mattress shifts under Yuuji’s weight. Megumi feels all the air getting knocked out of his lungs. He stays perfectly still, likewise to a corpse, as Yuuji lays on his back beside him. It’s more awkward than in the hotel room. This is his bed, his room, his home. Yuuji’s brother and Megumi’s family surround them, past these private and personal walls. Megumi reaches a hand out, slides it across the sheets until it hits Yuuji’s hand. He lifts it and wraps his arm around Megumi’ pulling him into his side. 

Megumi rolls onto his side, trying to get comfortable. Yuuji is stiff, not the relaxed and charming person that Megumi sees in public. He is more reserved here, almost anxious. Yuuji rolls onto his side as well, facing Megumi. 

Megumi is thankful for the darkness, he can barely make out Yuuji’s face. Megumi, curious, experimental, raises a slightly shaking hand. He lowers it inch.. by half inch..by half inch, until the pads of his fingertips and his palm are gently brushing against Yuuji’s jaw. Yuuji leans upward into the touch. 

The arm that Megumi is laying on tenses. That hand comes up to Megumi’s shoulder blades, holding him firmly in place, like Yuuji is asking him not to move. 

Megumi thinks about how this moment would enrage people. This moment that is filled with curiosity and innocence, this moment that is filled with the aching and twisting of his stomach when Yuuji’s eyes are on him because he, despite himself, appreciates the attention Yuuji gives him. This moment allows Megumi to hold the face of someone so principled and disciplined, so virtuous and noble, and rather than seeing it as an experience to be cherished it would be seen as a disgusting sickness. 

Megumi thinks to himself. ‘Am I sick?’ He doesn’t feel sick like this. Sure, he feels as though he might throw up, but that is only because he can feel the warm and tickling sensation of Yuuji’s breath on his nose and lips. 

“I sleep better like this.” Megumi shared, not knowing what else to say in the moment but feeling as though something needed to fill the space between them. The minimal, almost nonexistent, space between them. 

“I’m so glad.” Yuuji says earnestly. “I feel thankful that I get to do this.” 

Megumi’s face flashes red hot. “You’re so embarrassing.” He nearly barks. Yuuji laughs slowly and low in his chest, his hand on Megumi’s back rubbing circles into his shirt. 

“I can’t help it. I like this.” He confesses. Megumi doesn’t say that he likes it too, but he doesn’t think he needs to, because he can feel the ghost of Yuuji’s hand over his own jaw. 

He doesn’t lean into the touch like Yuuji does, but he lets himself melt into the arm below him. This moment is suffocatingly sweet, they are crossing a line. Together. Megumi’s breathing stops once more as Yuuji leans in, his hand on his jaw sliding up into Megumi’s hair. 

Megumi leans back, feeling the hand on his shirt releasing and allowing him to retreat. “Sorry.” Yuuji croaks out. 

Megumi forces air back into his lungs. “No, it’s okay.” 

“Did I…misread the situation?” Yuuji asks nervously, Megumi shakes his head. He doesn’t care about the darkness because he assumes Yuuji can feel it. 

“It’s just that we haven’t been on a proper..” Megumi trails off. He forces the next words out of his throat, they climb over the thumbs lodged there and sound unnatural in his voice, “..date yet. This seems a little soon.” 

“Oh.” Yuuji says, “No yeah, of course yeah that makes sense.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, it’s just-”  Megumi tries to explain. “I think we should, you know.” 

“I know?” Yuuji teases. “Do you mean go out on a date? Is this you trying to ask me, or should I ask you?” 

“You should do it quickly before I change my mind.” Megumi whispers harshly. Yuuji just quietly laughs again. Megumi can feel it rattling his lungs, embedding itself deep into his chest. 

“Will you, Megumi Fushiguro, please do me, Yuuji Itadori, the great honour of going out on a date with me?” Yuuji whispers, voice becoming entirely serious. His hand on Megumi’s face melts into his skin, as his thumb slides gracefully back and forth on the bone of his jaw. 

Megumi thought to himself that maybe this should have been a grander moment. Maybe this should have been in larger place, at a brighter hour, on a more important day. Though, laying in bed with Yuuij under his hand and the reminder that moments like this are unwelcome in their world. Megumi thanks Yuuji for this inherent virtuosic existence, for his offering of resistance to the world in this moment. 

Megumi knows the answer because it is constantly projected into his brain by the twisting, the aching, and the heat of his stomach whenever he and Yuuji share looks, touches, or breath. 

“That was incredibly formal.” Megumi says breathily instead. Yuuji smiles, Megumi can’t see it but he can feel it. 

“Want to go out, bro?” 

“I like that version less.” Megumi’s nose scrunches. 

Yuuji’s thumb continues to affectionately stroke Megumi’s jaw. “Either way, what’s your answer? Don’t leave me hanging after all this.” 

“Yes. My answer is yes.” Megumi says softly. Yuuji tightens his hold on him. In a metaphoric sense as well, not just physical. Megumi believes that he could become intoxicated on the existence that was Yuuji Itadori. 

“Can I kiss you goodnight here?” Yuuji asks, his thumb pressing into Megumi’s cheek. Megumi wants to say no, he wants to hide under the blankets, or turn away from Yuuji. To his dismay, Yuuji is a magnet, and he can not pull himself away from him. Megumi agrees in a thin voice, and braces for impact. 

But the feeling of Yuuji’s slightly chapped lips on his cheek is anything but brutal. It is soft and focused, like Yuuji is when he is around Megumi. It is not fleeting by any means, softness comes from the way Yuuji holds him as though he was precious, pressing lips to flesh as though his cheek was something to communicate with. It is cherishing and grateful, it makes a warmth spread throughout Megumi’s whole body. 

Megumi curls into Yuuji a little further, letting himself go limp in his arms. It is a strange and benign feeling that Megumi has initial fear of welcoming into his body, but it is there nonetheless. He is helpless in the arms of Yuuji Itadori, and despite himself he does not want to be anywhere else.

“Sleep.” Yuuji says, Megumi mutters an unintelligible sound back. Yuuji assumes it is a good night. 

Megumi can’t recall the moment that he drifted into sleep because the solidity and warmth of Yuuji’s hold never faltered for a second throughout the night.