Chapter Text
——————— April 16th, 2012, Satoru’s POV
Megumi has never held on to anything harder than Satoru’s pant leg. He has a fistful of fabric in one hand, clutched so tightly that his knuckles have flushed white, and in his other hand, he’s gripping onto Satoru’s hand like his guardian will disappear if he lets go.
Gojo, of course, is not having it. Megumi stares up at him with big blue eyes.
“I’m not going here,” He says matter-of-factly, as if it’s something that he can really decide. “I wanna go back to my old school.”
“Gumi, our new place is zoned here. I’ve told you a hundred times, bud.” He says patiently, for what feels like the 800th time this morning. “I’d take you back to your old school, but it’s too far away. I won’t be able to drive you some mornings, anyway, so you’ll have to take the bus. You wouldn’t be able to do that at your old school.”
Megumi’s brows furrow together.
“There’s no way ‘m taking the damn bus.”
“What’d you just say?”
“Nothin’.”
Satoru leans down, pulls Megumi in a tight hug, pulls away…
…and flicks him on the forehead.
Megumi sticks out his tongue in protest, but Satoru just quirks an eyebrow.
“You’re a whole nine years old, kid. Maybe put your tongue away. You’ll attract flies.” Satoru teases, poking Megumi right on his tongue. Satoru isn’t sure he’s ever seen anything disappear so quickly. He gives a quick flicker of a grin.
“Want me to walk you in?”
“No. I’m not a baby.”
“You’re nine years old.”
“Yeah, not a baby.”
Satoru just grins again, scooping him up in a tight hug, lifting the boy off the ground with ease.
“You’re my baby!”
“Put me down!” Megumi hisses, squirming in Gojo’s grasp, before finally being set down. He rushes out a quick “g’bye,” and practically sprints away, face flushed with embarrassment.
Satoru has to pretend like he’s not about to cry when he drives away.
——————— April 16th, 2012, Megumi’s POV
Megumi walks into his fourth grade class for the first time.
It’s a nice room— there’s lots of open space, hardwood floors, and colorful decor around the room. His new school is a private school. Megumi tries to remember what that means, but his mind blanks around the part where Satoru stopped telling stories about his experience at boarding school and starts actually explaining what a private school is.
It doesn’t actually matter— what matters is the obnoxious boy near him, clearly trying to get his attention. Megumi glares at him for a second before fixing his face to be more approachable like Satoru has been trying to teach him.
“Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori,” The pink-haired boy says with a big, toothy grin, brown bug-eyes wide open like he’s staring right into Megumi’s soul.
In other words, he’s just really excited. Megumi isn’t sure what for.
“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?” The boy asks, rocking back and forth on his tiptoes. “I like your shirt. D’ya like Pokémon?”
Megumi doesn’t get a chance to answer any of his questions before the boy throws another one his way.
“Uh.. my name’s Megumi Fushiguro,” Megumi says, avoiding eye contact with the boy. Not that he has anything against eye contact, but this boy’s eyes are too wide. It feels like he’s staring into Megumi’s soul. “Pokémon’s okay... I like Digimon better. I play it all the time with my..”
Megumi pauses. He’s not entirely sure what title to use for Satoru– for Megumi, he’s just Satoru.
“I play it with Satoru. But I don’t really watch it with him. He doesn’t like to sit still for TV shows. He always falls asleep or walks away to do something. Or do something while watching. And he’s too loud.”
Yuuji’s face lights up at Digimon, grin somehow widening. He kinda looks like a Potato-Head doll.
“I love Digimon!” He says, way too loudly. The teacher shoots him a look, causing Yuuji to look away sheepishly.
Megumi gives a hint of an amused smile.
“What’s your favorite Digimon?” Megumi asks, finally setting down his things and taking a seat next to the boy.
“I like Chibomon.” Yuuji answers, not missing a beat.
“What? But Chibomon’s weak. It doesn’t have any cool power.” Megumi replies almost instantly.
“Yeah, but Chibomon can Digivolve into, like, any dragon. So it’s still cool.”
“I mean, I guess..”
Their enthusiastic conversation is cut short– incredibly short, as the first bell rings and the teacher immediately shouts for everyone to sit down.
Megumi can’t help but notice how Yuuji tenses up at the noise.
——————— April 14th, 2016, Yuuji’s POV
Yuuji walks into the gym and takes a few mental notes.
First off– the place is pristine. The basketball hoops all look pristine, brand new, nothing like the torn nets and beat-up backboards from last year. The floors look freshly polished, and a new set of bleachers has been installed in the spacious gym. The mural on the wall has been repainted, the school’s mascot new and vibrant.
Yuuji’s body seems to relax at this. His anxiety is still high, but that can be explained by upcoming tryouts, the stress of school starting, other things he doesn’t really want to think about.
Yuuji pushes any other thoughts away as the coach blows a whistle, indicating that the group should come up to the front of the gym. He quickly makes his way over, trying to avoid letting his mind wander too far. He stares at the banners decorating the walls, listing the school’s numerous sports-related victories and records.
He reads off the records and the wins, the sports the school excels in.
Track, volleyball, soccer, basketball–
“Itadori, are you listening?” Coach Yaga barks, eying Yuuji like he’s a field mouse and Yaga is the hawk. Yuuji can almost feel his eyes burning holes into his body– eyes from his classmates and from the coach.
“Yes, coach. Sorry.”
“What’d I say?”
Ah, shit.
Yuuji swallows hard, but he doesn’t say anything. He looks anywhere but up at Yaga and his classmates.
His eyes bore holes into the floor.
“Pay attention.” Yaga grumbles, and Yuuji feels a heat creep up to his head.
It’s not a big deal– Yuuji should’ve been paying better attention. He should’ve been listening, not wandering, should’ve been–
He swallows again. His heart pounds in his chest. What the hell is his problem?
He forces his eyes up, appearing engaged, but his pulse rushes in his ears too loud to make out much.
——————— April 14th, 2016, Megumi’s POV
Megumi feels some of the tension drip away from his body when he sees Yuuji sitting at their usual lunch table. He always waits for Megumi before going into the line.
Yuuji seems to perk upon seeing Megumi, a subtle grin on his face and some cash sitting underneath his hand.
Something settles quietly in Megumi’s chest, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so he doesn’t.
He tries to ignore how Yuuji seems to settle as they fall into a matching pace. He tries to ignore the slight flutter in his chest as he feels his anxiety curl up in his head and dissolve.
“So, how were your first few classes?” Yuuji asks as he fixes his tray, taking the same things as always– rice, grilled salmon, miso soup that he never eats, passing it onto Megumi.
“Fine. I like my schedule this year,” Megumi replies simply, fixing his own tray in sync with Yuuji, same things as always– rice, miso soup, fried chicken that he never eats, passing it over to Yuuji.
They both reach for an orange, hands brushing as they reach for the fruit. The touch feels like sparks on Megumi’s skin, like it warms his whole body. They both linger for a moment too long, Megumi slowly revoking his hand, while Yuuji yanks his back like he’s been burned.
Megumi wonders if Yuuji feels sparks, too.
Yuuji looks over his shoulder at Megumi lagging behind him, lost in thought. He backs up enough to bump Megumi just slightly, but not enough to mess up anything delicately balanced on his tray. Megumi glances at Yuuji, deep blue eyes locking onto honey-brown.
He keeps walking, passing Yuuji, making his way over to the table until–
He stops.
Why is there someone at their lunch table?
Yuuji’s eyes widen, glancing over at Megumi like he’s trying to form an opinion based off of his reaction. Though Megumi’s expression is blank, a few things run through his head.
One, this girl looks like she bit people until, like, last year.
Two, she’s in Yuuji’s spot.
Three, she’s scowling at her tray like her food killed her dog.
Megumi glances over at Yuuji curiously, like he’s looking for an answer from him, but Yuuji just shrugs uselessly. Megumi rolls his eyes before walking over. Yuuji follows closely behind, stepping beside Megumi.
“Hey,” he says, poking her shoulder.
She immediately whips her head around, short brown hair sticking to her lipgloss, still shimmering with that freshly-applied look. She fixes her hair, putting on a scrutinizing scowl as she looks Yuuji up and down. She fixes her gaze to Megumi, too, giving a less scrutinizing look, but still quirks an eyebrow at him, like she’s wondering what his issue is.
Which is a fair question.
“Who’re you?”
“Uh, you first. You’re sitting in my spot.”
She rolls her eyes, glancing at Megumi again, before reluctantly introducing herself.
“I’m Nobara Kugisaki,” she says, and then, more reluctantly, “This is my first year here.”
“Oh, you’re new?” Megumi asks, finally speaking up.
She looks at him like he’s an idiot. Something burns like fire in his stomach.
“Yeah. I just said that.”
“Right. Sorry,” Megumi murmurs.
“So, who’re you two?” Nobara asks.
“Oh, I’m Yuuji Itadori!” He says with a grin, setting his tray down next to Nobara, like he’s accepted that she sits in his place now. Megumi scowls.
It’s not like he has an issue with Kugisaki. He barely knows her. But that’s Yuuji’s spot. Not her’s. She doesn’t even know them.
“And this is Megumi Fushiguro. He doesn’t want to introduce himself, apparently.” Yuuji says teasingly, but Megumi doesn’t really reply. He just scowls at Yuuji, glancing back over at Yuuji’s tray.
“Can you scoot over?” Megumi suddenly asks before he can stop himself, trying to force his face to stop doing that thing (scowling).
She furrows her brows at him like she’s confused about his audacity. He’s a bit confused about it, too. He’s not exactly one to speak up about trivial things like this.
“..Why?” She asks. Yuuji looks confused, too, like he doesn’t mind that she’s stolen his spot.
“That’s Yuuji’s seat. He always sits there.” He finds himself saying before he can really think about it, before he can think about how it’s really not that serious, how Yuuji clearly doesn’t care about it.
Why doesn’t Yuuji care? Does he not care about their routine? Why isn’t it important to him?
“Megumi,” He says, wrapping his hand around Megumi’s shoulder, “it’s really okay, I can sit next to her. Or next to you. You can choose.”
The touch burns on his shoulder like hot coals. And it’s not just Yuuji’s really warm hands.
“..Fine,” He murmurs, avoiding both Yuuji and Kugisaki’s gaze. He gestures for Yuuji to sit by him, and they both slide into their seats— Yuuji into a new one, while Megumi sits in his regular spot.
They swap food— Yuuji passing Megumi his miso soup, Megumi passing Yuuji his chicken.
This has been their routine since fourth grade. Even if everything else changed, Megumi is certain that Yuuji would get an extra serving of fried chicken no matter what.
Yuuji’s knee bumps Megumi’s, lingering there for a moment. Yuuji’s leg bounces steadily against the ground, familiarly touching Megumi’s knee every so often.
Megumi purses his lips together.
“So, Kugisaki,” Yuuji starts, “what school were you at before this?”
She looks at him like she’s already annoyed by the question. Her brows furrow together, nose scrunching up just slightly— only enough to notice if you’re scrutinizing her like Megumi is right now.
“Some middle school in the countryside. You wouldn’t know about it.” She says dismissively, picking at an unopened orange. Her fingernail catches on a piece of the peel, breaking open the fruit.
Megumi sighs lightly. Kugisaki glances at him, looking a bit annoyed, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Yuuji,” he says, poking Yuuji’s shoulder, “When are basketball tryouts?”
Yuuji perks up at the mention of basketball, lips curving faintly in excitement. He’s been on the team since fifth grade, and he’s obviously going to be on it this year.
Megumi doesn’t know much about basketball aside from what Yuuji has said when they play casually together, but he knows that Yuuji is really good. Yuuji has sheepishly told Megumi that he’s one of the best players in school, and Megumi knows he’s not just being cocky.
“They’re in May, but we’re doing practices now to prepare. Like, drills and stuff. Conditioning. Boring stuff.”
Megumi just nods in acknowledgement.
“I’m coming to tryouts, right?”
Yuuji tilts his head at Megumi.
“Yeah, of course,” he smiles, “I don’t know why you still ask. You come every year.”
“Yeah, because you cried the one time I couldn’t and I’ve been allowed ever since.”
“I didn’t cry!”
“You did. Like, you started crying afterwards when you realized I wasn’t there, and the coach had to go open the door for me. You were all sweaty and gross.”
Yuuji grins, looking down at the table. “You still let me hug you.”
“Yeah, and I had to go home and shower immediately.”
“Shut up.”
“For telling the truth?”
“Yeah.”
Yuuji snorts quietly. Megumi looks away from Yuuji, across the table, just to find that Kugisaki has been staring at them like they’re insane this entire time.
“What?” Megumi asks. His jaw tightens slightly when he sees the look on her face.
“What was that?” She snorts, like she just finished an awful movie.
Yuuji’s brows furrow, looking at her quizzically.
“I was telling him about tryouts,” Yuuji answers quickly.
“Right,” she murmurs, still obviously judging them.
Megumi just rolls his eyes.
——————— April 14th, 2016, Yuuji’s POV, after school
Yuuji leans against the wall, foot tapping impatiently against the ground. He’s waiting outside of Megumi’s classroom, scrolling through his phone, trying to look unbothered to the other students passing by— not like any of them would really care, but just in case.
The bell rings, startling Yuuji out of his own head, and students start to file out of the classroom. Yuuji eyes the crowd, looking for a pair of blue eyes and spiky black hair.
Megumi comes out of the classroom last, looking around for Yuuji. He spots his pink hair in the crowd— it’s not hard to see, after all— and walks over to him, weaving through the sea of students.
“Meeeegumi!” Yuuji exclaims, grabbing onto Megumi’s backpack handle and pulling him back. Megumi swings his head around, scowling at Yuuji.
“You’re such an idiot. Next time you do that, I’m gonna hit you.”
Yuuji frowns, his face contorting into a dramatic pout. “You’d never! You love me too much!”
Megumi looks away, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”
“You know it’s true.”
“I said shut up.”
“You love me!”
Megumi suddenly reaches over and whacks Yuuji on the back of the head. Yuuji ducks down, clutching his head.
“Watch it! I need my head for basketball. If you wanna watch my tryouts, you gotta leave my head alone!”
“Your head would be more useful as a basketball than what you’re doing with it now.”
“Asshole.”
“Idiot.”
They step out of the school, walking into the sunlight. The cherry blossoms around the building shed their petals in the wind.
It’s warm. Yuuji sheds his uniform jacket, wrapping it around his waist. He rolls up the sleeves of his collared shirt.
Yuuji looks over at Megumi, who looks away quickly.
“Megumi,” Yuuji suddenly says, “are you still coming over on Saturday?”
“Of course I am.”
Yuuji just smiles.
——————— June 18th, 2018, Megumi’s POV
Megumi waits outside of the highschool building.
Yuuji is late, but he’s “on time” less and less these days, so maybe ten minutes past on time is the new on time. Megumi doesn’t appreciate the change in routine, but he’ll accept it.
Megumi pulls out his phone to text Yuuji, since it’s 11 minutes past on time now.
08:11 || megumi: yuuji
08:11 || yuuji: megumiiii
08:12 || megumi: wya??
He stares at his own message for a while, looking at Yuuji’s profile. Online. His message stays unread.
08:12 || megumi (edited): wya?
He swallows, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy.
08:12 || yuuji: needy much?
Megumi rolls his eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. The skin on his lip is dry, chapped. He chews it off, tearing the skin. He tastes blood, faint and metallic.
08:13 || megumi: no, you’re js late. hurry up or i’m leaving
08:13 || yuuji: it’s not my fault, coach was lecturing us :-((
08:13 || yuuji: and you’d never leave me
Megumi sighs lightly. It’s really annoying when Yuuji is right. He gets a faint glint in his eye, a spark of pride, he smirks a little wider, and he doesn’t try to hide his snaggletooth as much.
08:14 || megumi: js hurry up..
08:14 || yuuji: i am, dad
08:14 || megumi: “dad” because i don’t want to be late?
08:15 || yuuji: no, cuz you’re annoying
08:15 || megumi: look who’s talking…
08:15 || yuuji: blaahhh blaahhh blahhh
08:16 || megumi: very mature. you’re 16 minutes late now btw
08:16 || yuuji: oh yeah??
08:16 || yuuji: [One image attached.]
Megumi opens the photo, just to find a picture of himself, looking down at his phone. He looks up to find Yuuji giggling to himself, staring at his phone, waiting for a response.
“Yuuji.”
“Meeeegumi.”
“Nobara’s been waiting for 16–” Megumi pauses, glancing at his watch, “17 minutes. You’re late."
“So I’ve heard,” Yuuji replies, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I’m missing anything.”
“You’re just not punctual, idiot.”
“You’re just not punctual, idiot,” Yuuji mocks.
Megumi walks away quickly, but Yuuji just walks faster, grabbing onto Megumi’s backpack handle.
“You always grab that thing."
“Duh. I can’t have you running away."
“You know I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, cuz I’d pull you back.”
Megumi scrunches up his nose and furrows his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side.
“What am I, your dog?”
“Maybe.”
“Gross.”
Yuuji grins, the wide, genuine kind, the kind that Megumi’s only seen when they’re together. His eyes light up, and his nostrils flare just slightly, and his snaggletooth is visible again.
Sometimes Megumi wants to squeeze his cheeks, run his thumb along Yuuji’s soft freckles, the ones that pop more in the summer when Yuuji tans. That’s one of the thoughts he keeps to himself.
“You busy on Friday?” Yuuji asks, looking over at Megumi as they walk to the library. Yuuji’s hand is still wrapped around the handle of Megumi’s backpack as they fall into pace together. It almost pulls Megumi back when Yuuji lags behind him, but he doesn’t complain about it.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“You wanna go to a party?”
“Why..” Megumi pauses, pulling out his phone to check his schedule again, “Why would I want to go to a party?”
“Because you’d be going with me. I got invited by an upperclassman on my team.”
“Hm..”
Megumi sighs.
“No. I’d rather just stay home.”
“Pleaseee?”
For a second, Yuuji looks genuinely hurt, and Megumi’s face softens. Yuuji’s face quickly goes back to its regular state– playful, lighthearted.
“We have that geometry test next week. You need to study.”
“I’ll study with you if you come with me."
“I guess you’ll fail, then.”
Yuuji purses his lips and taps his chin, pretending to be deep in thought.
“It’ll only be for, like, two hours. Please come?”
“No.”
“Are you suuuure?”
“Very.”
“C’mon, please? I don’t want to go alone.”
Megumi just rolls his eyes and opens the library door.
Nobara sits inside, a book flipped open but unread. Megumi notes that there are two bags on the floor– hers and an unfamiliar one.
“You two are late again.. It’s, like, 8:25.”
“8:24..” Yuuji corrects, earning him a flick on the back of the head from Megumi.
“Yuuji was at practice late,” Megumi sighs, “again.”
“It’s not my fault this time!” Yuuji exclaims, a little too loudly, earning him a glare from the librarian and a few other students in the library.
“Yeah, but it’s normally your fault.”
“Jeez, sorry, mom..”
Nobara gives a soft “tsk” before she goes back to scrolling through her phone.
“Hey, Nobara.”
She turns around, looking at Megumi.
“Whose bag is that?”
The backpack is a deep purple color with a keychain hanging off of it– a yellow plush star. It’s a stark contrast to Nobara’s bag, a coral-pink color decorated with pins and keychains. Nobara eyes the bag for a moment before turning back to Megumi.
“Oh, that’s Maki’s bag. The second-year.”
“Oh, the one with the glasses?” Yuuji chimes in.
“Yeah. Maki Zen’in.” Megumi says.
“Why’s she hanging out with you?”
Nobara scrunches her nose, looking genuinely offended. “Because I’m awesome, obviously. Why else?”
“No, he’s wondering why she isn't with her own friends." Megumi adds. "Isn’t she friends with a few other second-years?”
“Duh. But she liked my bag and she wanted to look at all the pins."
“That’s total bull. Nobody cares about all your nerdy pins.” Yuuji teases.
“Excuse you, my pins aren’t nerdy. They’re cool.
“Yeah, to you, maybe.” Yuuji replies.
“And to Maki, I guess.” Megumi chips in
Nobara just looks at them both like she’s about to bite them. Or hit them. Or both.
Luckily, they’re spared when Maki comes back over, sitting on the sofa next to Nobara. She picks up the book that lays next to her.
Yuuji and Megumi shoot each other a knowing glance.
“The pin thing was total bullshit.” is just a thought that goes unspoken between them.
“Nobara, d’you wanna come to a party? On Friday?” Yuuji asks, sitting down, rocking back and forth on an ottoman a few feet away from the couch. Megumi lowers himself onto the couch by Nobara.
“Who’s hosting?” She asks.
“I dunno. Some third-year.”
Maki looks up from her book. “Aoi Todo’s hosting. He’s kinda weird, but he does throw good parties,” she says simply, looking back down at her book. “I’m going.”
A smile tugs on Nobara’s face. “Yeah, I’ll go. What time?”
Yuuji pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking a text. “Nine PM. Want me to pick you up?”
"Nah. Maki’ll take me.”
“Since when?” Maki asks, adjusting her glasses.
“Since now.”
“Really.”
“Uh-huh.”
Maki rolls her eyes dramatically, but she doesn’t deny.
Megumi flicks his wrist up, checking his watch.
“It’s 8:35. Yuuji, what class do you have?”
“I have basketball, idiot.” Yuuji responds, “Why do you never remember my schedule?”
Megumi ignores his second remark. “Let’s go. I’ll drop you off.”
“I know you will. You always do.”
Megumi purses his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.
Does Yuuji like the routine as much as I do?
Should I like our routine this much?
He reaches up to his face, plucking an eyelash. He pinches it between two fingers, like he’s checking for the quality before he flicks it off of his finger. From the corner of his vision, he sees Yuuji glance over at him, brows furrowed with something that looks vaguely like concern. Megumi pulls lightly at his shirt collar, the stiff uniform shirt feeling like sandpaper against his throat.
Megumi feels a soft tug on his backpack. He glances over his shoulder to find Yuuji clinging onto his bag again.
Something light unfurls in his chest.
“Megumi,” Yuuji suddenly says, pulling Megumi from his thoughts.
He hums in acknowledgement, glancing at Yuuji.
Yuuji chews on his bottom lip, like he’s thinking of something else to say.
“Can you come over on Wednesday? I need help with the test next week.”
What was he originally going to say?
“Yeah. I’m still not coming to the party, though.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah. I’ll come over.”
They stand in front of the doors to the gym for a moment. He just looks at Yuuji– his pink hair, the birthmark under his eye, his freckles. He almost forgets to breathe.
Yuuji clears his throat. “Bye, Megumi, see you later!”
“Yeah.”
Yuuji pulls open the door, disappearing behind polished wood and glass.
Megumi’s head swims.
What is wrong with me today?
His heart pounds in his chest.
What is wrong with me?
He hooks his thumbs under his backpack straps, speed-walking away to his own class.