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Megumi heard the front door slam and promptly buried his head into his pillow, resisting the urge to scream into it. It was a very tempting offer, though.
“Hey, Fushiguro, I’m home!” his chronically joyous roommate (also known as Yuji Itadori) called, voice resounding throughout the dorm. When Megumi didn’t respond, he heard Yuji’s footsteps pad toward his closed door and knock lightly. “You studying?”
“Mhm.”
“Alright, I won’t bother you then. Come have dinner later, okay?”
“Mm.”
Megumi sighed into his faithful scream-muffling pillow. Was he studying? No. Was he supposed to be? Yes. Did he now feel a teensy bit guilty that he’d lied to Yuji? Maybe.
He rolled onto his back and pulled his blanket tighter around his body, despite knowing full well it wasn’t going to do anything against his incurable case of cold hands.
Out of the fourteen million people in Tokyo, he sighed. It had to include me. In a world that used to host creatures and curses, that magic had dulled with the passing ages up till today’s time, where only a minuscule percentage of the population possessed minor supernatural abilities.
In Megumi’s case, being a shadow-spinner didn’t prove to make his life any easier. Instead, it sapped his energy every second he forced his body to conceal his technique. And once a month, that pent up power would become restless, causing him to practically become bedridden from exhaustion.
One time, Yuji had even jokingly asked if he was even a guy. Megumi had glared at him until that annoying smile fled his face.
But now that time had arrived once again, and here he was, rotting in bed, doing absolutely nothing. His hands itched to work on his grueling architecture project (which was due in approximately one week), but the rest of his body couldn’t find the energy to simply walk over to his desk.
Megumi shivered. His hands were trembling, and he could feel the shadows pushing him toward the edge. No. Pull yourself together. If he finds out, he’s going to think you’re a burden. You’ll ruin his life.
Yuji was always so happy, always looking on the bright side. He was the pure incarnation of the sun turned human, and Megumi was all at once terrified and ashamed that his shadows might be the thing that snuffed out his light.
So, during these few days, he made sure to stay away, far from where his darkness could do him any possible harm. It was for the best.
But he was cold. He was so, so cold, to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could ever feel warm again. Yet then again, being in the chilliness of solitude was better than being a burden in someone else’s life.
Megumi curled into a fetal position, hands clenched into fists, and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe sleep could finally bring him peace.
Meanwhile, spread out on the couch outside his closed door, Yuji was thinking about his roommate. Again.
It wasn’t like it was an abnormal thing for him to do; they’d been friends for four years before deciding to dorm together for college. Yet, recently, something had been different.
Nearly every three weeks, Megumi liked to shut himself in his room for hours at a time, only leaving occasionally to have a couple bites during mealtimes.
Long story short, Yuji was worried about his spiky-haired roommate. He was sure Megumi had lost weight, and the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He also never seemed to feel warm, always bundling up in sweaters or hoodies even when Yuji left the dorm in shorts and t-shirts.
He didn’t used to be like this, Yuji thought. What happened? Is he sick? Or just burned out? And most of all, why isn’t he telling me? A short pang of hurt sliced through his chest, but he inhaled deeply to ease the pain. If Megumi had deemed whatever he was going through private, then so be it.
But Yuji was determined to make him eat dinner tonight. He’d even gone to the grocery store just to pick up ingredients for those ginger chicken meatballs he loved.
Yuji glanced at Megumi’s door. He just hoped he was either studying or sleeping in there and not silently crying.
Luckily, Megumi was not crying. He was getting pretty close to that point, though. He could feel a massive headache forming behind his eyes, and his damn blanket was still not doing anything good for him.
Everything was still cold. His fingers, his toes, his entire body, even in late-summer weather that Yuji often complained to him about.
After another twenty minutes or so, his teeth started chattering. Darkness began to seep from his fingers.
Oh, now I’ve done it, he thought miserably. He curled his hands into fists, but the onyx mist refused to evaporate. It was like all the shadow he’d kept inside his body was pouring out all at once. The air in the room instantly dropped twenty degrees.
He tried one last time to rein the technique in, but Megumi was so tired. His head started to spin, and at last, his eyes slide shut.
Still on the couch, Yuji felt the room temperature suddenly lower, like a winter breeze had manifested inside the dorm.
The cold didn’t usually affect him. He had a naturally high body temperature, but this felt weirdly different, eerily not natural. He ran over to the thermostat. It still showed a normal temperature, so why did it feel so cold?
Megumi. I need to check on him. He bounded across the apartment and knocked on his roommate’s door again. Still no answer.
This time, he slowly twisted the handle, praying it was unlocked. Yuji winced as the door creaked open—he’d have to oil those hinges sometime, that sound was pitiful—and found that his knees were immediately failing to hold him upright.
It was like an epic winter storm had made its home inside of the room, except there was no snow in sight. Instead, living shadows radiated from the curled up form on the bed, wisps of darkness that writhed in the air, spreading rapidly through the space.
Yuji stumbled over to Megumi’s unconscious form and touched a hand to his forehead. His fingers jerked back.
Holy shit, he’s burning up. Damn it, I knew he was sick! He gritted his teeth and gripped both of Megumi’s shoulders, shaking them a couple times. “Fushiguro. Fushiguro, wake up.”
Megumi stirred awake to find himself looking into a pair of wide amber eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was a hallucination or not. “Itadori…” His thoughts were muddled and his entire head felt fuzzy and weirdly hot. When was the last time I felt this warm? “Itadori… I messed up…”
Yuji was extremely confused. “How? You’re sick, that’s not your fault.”
Now Megumi was befuddled. “I’m… sick?”
“Yes, Fushiguro. You have a fever! Why were you in here all by yourself?”
“I… didn’t want you to know…”
“About?”
Megumi vaguely gestured to the darkening room around them like a deranged puppeteer. “This… now I’m a burden…”
The fever’s definitely messing with his brain. “Fushiguro, let’s get you to the couch. Whatever these shadows are, they’re not doing you any good.” He wound his hands under Megumi’s knees and back and picked him up into his arms like he weighed nothing.
He’s so light… Fushiguro, what’s happening to you… To his own faint surprise, Yuji didn’t care that his roommate was leaking black smoke. He was more concerned about his burning fever.
“No… you have to stay away from me… put me down, Itadori…”
“Hell no,” Yuji muttered. Megumi slumped limply in his arms as he made his way over to the couch and deposited him gently onto the cushions. He ran back into his room to grab a pillow and blanket, then set the pillow under Megumi’s head and draped the blanket over his body. “Try to sleep for now. Let me grab the medicine.”
From Megumi’s eyes, Yuji was merely a blurred figure in a kaleidoscope of colors that shifted and burned his eyes. Everything looked three shades too bright. “No… if I sleep it’ll get worse…”
“The shadows?”
Megumi tried to blink away the onyx smoke that curled around his fingertips. It stubbornly refused to disappear. “Yes.” He hadn’t been sick in so long. Was this how it really felt, or was he literally dying from energy suppression?
As if reading the expression on his face, Yuji shot him a smirk. “It’s a cold, Fushiguro. A remarkably strong cold, but you’re not going to die. I’m making sure of it.” He used a warm hand to brush Megumi’s bangs off his sweaty forehead.
Megumi felt his face flush. It was probably the fever. Definitely. “I need to… stay awake.”
“I found you passed out in your room. A few more minutes of sleep wouldn’t do you any harm.” Yuji reached over and used two fingers to push Megumi’s eyelids shut.
“I-I can’t-”
“You can’t what? Sleep, Fushiguro. I’m here this time.” This time Yuji made sure his voice was firm.
He saw Megumi’s lips move, but heard no sound. “Hmm?”
“I… don’t wanna… trouble… you…”
Yuji felt his eyebrows skyrocket. “Trouble me? I’m your roommate! And friend! It’s my duty to take care of you!”
“Don’t… say that…”
“Go to sleep, Fushiguro. Or no meatballs for you.”
“Damn… you…”
~
When Yuji was sure Megumi was asleep, he sprinted over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a towel, and quickly put together a makeshift cold compress. He ran back to the couch and tried to place it as softly as possible onto the dark-haired boy’s forehead, careful not to wake him.
Next, he rustled around in the cabinets for the medicine they kept that was rarely used. He poured out the designated amount into a spoon and tiptoed back to Megumi.
He hesitated for a moment, then used his fingers to gently pry the unconscious boy’s lips open. He tipped the medicine down his tongue, made sure he swallowed, then sat back, finally letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He allowed himself to take a good long look at his roommate.
Around Megumi’s fingertips, shadows swirled into the air like an ink brush dipped into water. When he said I wasn’t supposed to know… was this what he meant? Did he presume I was going to think he was a freak or something?
Yuji brushed his hand through the darkness and shivered as a chill crept down his spine. Instead of radiating heat as any normal feverish person would, Megumi was emanating coolness. The air around him was tinged with the crisp scent of winter air and something that reminded Yuji of the pages of an old book.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t a bad smell either. Yuji found that he kind of liked it. He leaned down slowly and skimmed his nose across Megumi’s hair, then flinched back. What the hell was he doing?
He shook his head frantically to clear his thoughts, and got to work cooking those ginger chicken meatballs.
On the other hand, Megumi stirred awake but let his eyes remain closed. He smiled to himself as he listened to his roommate softly humming Heart ni Hi wo Tsukete while the aroma of ginger meatballs filled the dorm.
(a/n: that song is actually gege akutami approved, he stated that it would’ve represented yuji's theme music if he had any lol)
His head was still pounding and he was shivering as well, but something about Yuji’s presence made him feel surprisingly at ease. From the living room window, the sky slowly darkened until the lamplights outside flared on, one by one.
It wasn’t till then that Megumi opened his eyes and mimed yawning and rubbing his eyes, flinching when the shadows reared over his knuckles. The cold compress slid off his head and onto the floor, and he let out a groan as his headache instantly worsened.
“Itadori… can I have some meatballs already?”
Yuji whipped his head toward the couch as soon as he heard Megumi’s groggy voice sound over the sizzling of the stove. He looked down at his hands, which were currently ladling the dish into their separate rice filled bowls.
At least he has an appetite… “Yeah, in a minute.” He hurriedly plucked some chopsticks from a drawer and stepped over to the couch, crouching beside Megumi’s head. “Are you hungry?”
Megumi nodded. He was in fact quite hungry. Starving, actually. He’d forgotten what it was like to be this famished. His head still faintly spun, but he instantly forgot about it as soon as he caught sight of Yuji’s relieved smile.
His roommate took the chopsticks in his hands, picked up a steaming piece of meatball, and held it to Megumi’s lips. “Let me know if it’s good.”
Megumi felt his face heat up. “You don’t—you don’t have to feed me.”
“Seeing from you made absolutely zero struggle when I carried you here, I’m going to feed you, because your fever looked fucking brutal.” Yuji pushed the chopsticks closer to Megumi’s face. He smirked as his roommate’s face turned pink.
“The fever’s better now, so you really don’t need to- mmm!” The rest of his sentence was cut short when Yuji popped the piece of meatball into his mouth. Megumi felt his cheeks heat even more than they did already. “Fuck—you-” he choked out as he chewed angrily. But despite all of that, he had to admit, Yuji’s cooking was top notch. Especially when it came to these damned ginger chicken meatballs.
“Good?” Yuji asked innocently.
His roommate shot him the nastiest glare he’d ever seen from him. “Yes,” he huffed.
“Aww, don’t make that face, Fushiguro. You look better when you’re smiling.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Yuji resisted the urge to punch himself. What the hell had he just said? The one thing he didn’t want was to ruin whatever he had with Megumi with a few wrong words. He held his breath as the dark-haired boy stared at him.
After a second, his eyes softened.
Yuji exhaled.
“I—it’s good. Your cooking’s always good.” Megumi looked away.
“Let’s hope it can cure your cold, too.” Yuji handed him the bowl awkwardly. “Eat first, then you can explain all of-” He gestured to the shadows. “-this.”
He walked back to the kitchen counter to finish his own portion, though he stopped every five seconds to glance back toward the couch.
Megumi finished the meatballs in record time, but somehow he was still slower than Yuji. He still wondered how his roommate always managed to inhale his food—sometimes literally.
He set the bowl down on the living room table and studied his shadow wreathed fingers. Even while sporting a fever and after the first hot meal he’d had in a week, he still felt terribly cold. He pulled the blanket closer to his chin.
Yuji approached the couch and grabbed his empty bowl silently, returning to the kitchen and setting it into the sink. He walked back and again crouched at Megumi’s side.
“So,” he started quietly. “Can I know?”
Megumi sighed, but though Yuji’s face was blank, his eyes betrayed that sparkling curiosity he had toward everything he didn’t know about.
“I have… a technique.” He raised his hands, which were still leaking shadows. “It’s called shadow-spinning, and it means I can do this.” He pinched a strand of darkness, expanded it, and dipped his finger into the shade.
He dared a glance at Yuji’s face, and felt his eyes widen when he saw the look of awe that spread across the pink-haired boy’s face.
“That. Is. Fucking. Awesome.”
“Awesome?”
“Yeah!” Yuji said excitedly. “You’re like a freaking unicorn, Fushiguro!”
“…A unicorn?” Out of the thousands of mythical creatures…
“With this technique and stuff? Like magic? It’s so cool!”
“It’s not as great as you think. Trust me.”
Yuji cocked his head to the side. “Explain.”
“I’ll just show you.” Megumi hesitantly offered his hands to his pink haired roommate, and Yuji brushed his thumb over his palms, eyes flaring wide.
“You’re freezing… Why are you so cold?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of you! I was scared that you would think I was a freak! That I was a burden! So I suppressed the shadows. I was afraid they’d… take away your brightness.”
Megumi looked down at his lap, but then felt someone’s fingers tilt his chin upwards. He was met with a pair of warm amber eyes. Like hot maple syrup, he mused.
“That’s no reason to treat yourself like this, Fushiguro.” Yuji’s eyebrows furrowed. “Look at what it led to.”
Megumi flicked his gaze away. “I’m used to the cold.”
“Hey, Fushiguro.”
Megumi had no choice but to meet his eyes again. “Huh?”
“Can I-” Yuji hesitated. He had a fifty-fifty percent chance of either getting him to agree or getting slapped. “Can I help you warm up?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, can I join you on the couch? I know your not a fan of physical touch and stuff, but I’m always warm, so maybe it could help with your… situation?”
Megumi’s heart skipped a beat. Actually, it skipped three beats. “Uh…”
“It’s totally fine if you don’t want me to!” Yuji held his hands up like he was under arrest. But what happened next caused his mouth to drop open.
Megumi opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Itadori, I agreed. It’s not the end of the world.” He scooted against the couch and held part of the blanket out.
“Didn’t know you were the jokester type, Fushiguro,” Yuji teased as he slid into the covers next to him. But in all seriousness, he really hoped Megumi’s technique didn’t extend to reading someone’s heartbeat or something like that. That would be extremely bad in his case.
He cautiously placed an arm around Megumi’s shoulders and caught one of his hands in his. Yuji wasn’t sure how a human being could possibly be this cold, and he silently cursed Megumi for keeping it a secret till now.
He let go slightly when he felt Megumi tense, but then he relaxed into his arms. Yuji pulled him a bit closer, and placed both of his freezing hands within his two warm ones, rubbing gently.
“That good?” he asked tentatively.
“Mhm.” In reality, Megumi was too busy trying to slow his racing heartbeat rather than reply. “Itadori?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re really warm. I feel a lot better.”
“That’s good to know. I fed you some medicine while you were sleeping too, so hopefully your fever’s going down as well.”
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, Yuji continuing to massage the cold out of Megumi’s fingers. Then, Megumi shifted so he was facing Yuji.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.” What Megumi really meant to say was “for cooking and caring for me and offering to do all of this because I’d probably still be in a feverish daze if you weren’t here,” but he didn’t have the energy to say everything. For now, he hoped it was enough.
Meanwhile, Yuji’s entire brain was close to short-circuiting. Did this mean… He leaned closer to Megumi’s face. “Hey, Fushiguro.”
“Mm?”
“I don’t want you to suffer alone, you know,” he started slowly. “You can always pass the cold to me.”
“How the hell do I pass a cold to—”
Megumi found that he couldn’t finish his question, because one second Yuji was lying by his side, and his lips were pressed to his by the next.
Megumi broke the contact, eyes wide. “Itadori?”
“You’re not the only one who has secrets, Fushiguro.” Yuji leaned his lips close to Megumi’s ears so his breath brushed against his skin when he spoke. “I don’t want to see you go through this alone.”
Megumi felt a shiver run down his spine, but this time not from the cold. “You’re going to get yourself sick…”
“Does it look like I care?” Yuji murmured.
And so Megumi clasped his now warm hands around Yuji’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. “If you say so,” he whispered softly.
The darkness surrounding his hands slowly disappeared, and the room slowly warmed.
The night sky smiled down at the two as she witnessed the moon-boy finally find his sun.