Chapter Text
If Megumi had to hear Gojo complain about hotel sheets one more time, he was going to strangle the man with them. Sharing a room with Gojo for a week was nothing Megumi hadn’t been subjected to before, but one more day and he might’ve lost it.
Dragging his suitcase behind him, Megumi couldn’t help but feel a little sense of relief. The building was admittedly nowhere near as fancy as whatever high-end hotel Gojo had booked them into, but there was a sense of coziness to it that Megumi couldn’t deny.
Energy buzzed beneath his skin with each footfall. He glanced down at his phone, scanning the email Gojo had screenshotted and forwarded him that had their room assignments. Coaches and athletes were in separate buildings, so after a way too dramatic goodbye from Gojo, Megumi stalked his way down the hallway by himself.
“Y’know, for someone competing at the Olympics, you look like you would rather be anywhere else.”
Almost by himself.
“Shut up,” Megumi rolled his eyes, ignoring his sister’s teasing grin. She matched his steps beside him, Megumi’s duffle bag slung over her shoulder and his other suitcase trailing behind them in her other hand.
The three of them had spent the last thirty minutes hauling all of Gojo and Tsumiki’s (mostly Gojo’s) luggage to their rooms over in the staff wing they had been assigned, and while Megumi was granted a small reprieve from Gojo’s antics because he was ‘simply too tired to even lift another finger,’ – his words – Tsumiki offered to tag along to check out the athlete dorms.
“Fix that gloomy little face of yours,” Tsumiki said, poking at his cheek. He shot her a glare.
“It’s just my face, stop touching me,” Megumi bit out, swatting her hand away. “You’ve been hanging around Gojo too much.”
Tsumiki only shrugged, but she stopped the poking, so Megumi counted it as a win. They walked in silence for a few blissful moments before voices drifted down the hall.
“Sounds like someone else is moving in too,” Tsumiki commented. She gasped dramatically, “Meg, you’ll get to meet your neighbours!”
“You’re acting like I’m moving into a new house,” Megumi rolled his eyes again, biting the corner of his lip to keep it from tugging up. He knew his sister was just excited to be here, energy radiating off her in waves like a dog walking to the park. Her eyes were lit up, tracing over every aspect of the mundane hall like she just had to know every detail.
Her and Gojo got along for a reason after all, matching each other’s energy flawlessly. But where Gojo bordered on obnoxious, Tsumiki’s energy always played into some bit or another, dialling up the joke for her own amusement – which usually included pissing Megumi off.
“I told you, I’m gonna force you to socialize here if it's the last thing I do,” Tsumiki stated matter-of-factly. “Just wait until Maki gets here and we sic her girlfriend on you.”
Megumi groaned. His cousin’s girlfriend was… certainly something. She and Tsumiki had gotten on well, but Megumi couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made some sort of judgement the first time they met and just… never strayed from it. He has a feeling that judgement had something to do with “hopeless loner,” if his sister had anything to say about it.
And she always does.
More voices floated down the hall, loud and a little rowdy for Megumi’s taste. He gave Tsumiki a deadpan, who only rolled her eyes playfully in response before coming to a stop.
“181… this is it, isn’t it?” She said, eyes lighting up again.
“This is it,” Megumi said, reaching around her to swipe the ID card he had pulled from his pocket. Each door had its own electronic scanner, matching the ones Tsumiki had used to scan them into the building.
Apparently, the ID badges they were given when they first got here were updated to allow access only to specific areas or doors – each one tailored to the individual athlete or coach. Megumi doesn’t even want to think about how much work that must have been. However, he understood, and appreciated, the security of it. Well, that is until Gojo inevitably finds some Game staff to harass and bribe into giving him access to Megumi’s room or something. Whatever, he’d enjoy the solace of privacy while he could.
Megumi felt the thrum of excitement, adrenaline even, under his skin as he pushed open the door. It was silly, really. He had already seen Tsumiki’s room, already knew what to expect. But knowing that this was his room, his very own spot at the Olympics sent a small thrill through his nervous system.
He flicked the light on, eyes scanning over the room in an instant. There was a door immediately to his left when he walked in, the bathroom most likely. The rest room was pretty small, as to be expected. A twin size bed was pushed up against the left wall, with a thin wardrobe tucked in the far corner at the end. The furthest wall was replaced with a window, stretching all the way from floor to ceiling. Layers of curtains sat over and around it, just like they’d had at the hotel they were staying at before.
The right side of the room seemed dedicated to storage – shelves, a coat rack, a small cushioned bench – all courtesy of the Japanese Skating federation. Each room was apparently pretty standardized – read: plain – but the federations were allowed small, reasonable requests to customize for their athletes. On top of their little additions, the coat rack was already in use, two or three different Team Japan branded jackets already hanging.
“Hmm, mine is better,” Tsumiki hummed after pausing in thought for a moment. Megumi rolled his eyes fondly.
“They’re literally identical,” Megumi shot back as he slid his backpack off, letting it fall onto the small bed. It’s true, they were. It wasn’t like Megumi was coming into this room blind with zero expectations. But somehow, just knowing that this room was supposed to be for him made it all the more real.
“Yeah, but my window faces east, that means I get the sunrise,” Tsumiki said smugly, as if that settled it. Megumi scoffed a little laugh, his chest warming at his sister's antics.
“Sure,” He placated. “Whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.”
He dropped down onto the bed, ignoring how he was likely messing up the neatly laid blankets they provided on top. Tsumiki crossed the room in one long stride, letting herself flop unceremoniously beside him. They laid there for a moment, side by side gazing at the blank ceiling.
He felt Tsumiki’s eyes roll lazily to stare at him, though he stayed glaring defiantly at the ceiling until he couldn’t take it. Megumi let his head loll to the side, nose to nose with his sister as they laid uncomfortably on the bed, their legs hanging halfway over the edge.
“What?” He huffed out, exasperation only growing as his sister merely smiled.
“Nothing, nothing. God, you’re so grumpy,” She giggled, turning her head back. She bit her lip, as if debating whether or not to say what she was thinking.
“I just can’t believe we made it,” She breathed out. “Here. To the Olympics.”
“Yeah,” Megumi whispered. This time it was him staring at Tsumiki, while her eyes were trained above. He had a feeling she was seeing a little more than the blank, white ceiling.
“You and me. We made it,” She repeated, a little dazed.
“Just you and me,” He echoed.
“And Gojo, actually,” She laughed, eyes crinkling. Megumi couldn’t help but smile with her.
They stayed there, for what could’ve been an hour or a minute. Laying together on one small bed, just like when they were kids, their breathing the only sound filling the room.
Their peace and quiet, as always, was broken almost as soon as it started. Heavy footfalls running outside his door, voices carrying through the likely thin walls. Megumi groaned, bringing a hand to scrub over his face. Of course he was going to have loud neighbours.
Tsumiki sat up suddenly with a sigh. She rolled her neck side to side, stretching it out as the day's excitement seemed to have sunken into a quiet exhaustion as soon as they both took a moment to relax and breathe.
“Whaddya say, wanna check out the dining hall with me?” Tsumiki asked as she stood up, the bed squeaking with the sudden absence of weight. “I’m starving.”
With a sigh of his own, Megumi pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling his own exhaustion curl around his bones, whispering to let him fall back into the bed and just sleep.
“Sure,” He shrugged. “I could use some food. But I’m heading back here to unpack after.”
Tsumiki opened her mouth to respond before Megumi cut her off, “Alone.” She shut her mouth, rolling her eyes.
“Boo,” She teased, crossing her arms as she started walking towards the door. “Can’t believe you’re sick of me already.”
“I’ve been sick of you for years,” Megumi deadpanned, reaching past his sister in her dramatics to swing the heavy door open. He patted his pockets quickly as they slipped out, confirming he still had his ID on him before pulling the door shut all the way.
He stepped forwards before he fully turned around, finding himself face to face with a stranger before he even realized what was happening. The stranger stepped around him without missing a beat, huffing gruffly as they stalked down the rest of the hall.
Megumi couldn’t help but stare for a moment in his stupor, eyes catching the short pink hair on the man’s head. Strange in its own right, sure, but glancing down the hall Megumi spotted another one. A boy, probably around his age, with the same pink hair, only even wilder. The younger of the two caught Megumi staring, locking eyes with him for just a moment, before his face cracked into a wide grin. Megumi pulled his eyes away, his cheeks heating up.
“You totally almost ran right into that guy,” Tsumiki teased with a mocking laugh poorly held back. “And then you basically got caught staring at the other like a freak. That was hilarious.”
“Shut it,” Megumi grumbled, whipping back and pushing past his sister. He could feel the pink haired boy’s gaze burning into his back – or maybe that was just his imagination.
Either way, Megumi refused to turn back around.
Olympic Village boasted two large dining halls, Megumi had learned, located on opposite ends of the sprawling campus-like buildings. The North Village dining hall was nothing short of impressive, though Megumi refused to appreciate it until he had a steaming coffee sitting in front of him, his eyes still bleary with sleep.
He cradled his cup in front of him, picking at the disposable plastic lid as the hall bustled around him. It was still pretty early, 7:42 according to the large clock on the wall, but if any one place was going to bring in the early crowd, it would definitely be free food at a sporting event. Not just a sporting event, Megumi reminded himself, but the sporting event. Megumi’s lips curled into a small smile as he took another sip of his coffee.
He had ended up here for lunch and for dinner with Tsumiki last night, despite what he had said about wanting time alone. But now, by the next morning, the dining hall was nearly a completely new place. As more people had continued moving in for the remainder of yesterday, and likely a few more coming today, the dining hall – and Village in general – felt far more alive.
Energy buzzed throughout the crowds of people, however thin mixed with the dredges of morning. Adrenaline and nerves and excitement and every other emotion poured out, mixing into one large chemical bomb – ready to blow in only a couple days once the first official event started.
Though the opening ceremonies weren’t until Friday, Wednesday marked the real beginning of the competition. Hell, even Maki started soon, if he remembered correctly. Her first prelim was scheduled a whole day before the ceremony even technically commences the Gnames.
Megumi himself had more time than he even knew what to do with, his competition not starting until well into the second week. He knew, though, that the week and a half he had ahead of him would likely be more difficult than anything after, if his past… impression of the Games is anything to go off of. He’ll likely be seeing the rink more often than his bed for a while.
But until the madness truly began, Megumi took a deep breath in through his nose. He relished in the bittersweet scent of his coffee as his eyes scanned the crowd lazily. People watching – his most stalker-like habit, according to Tsumiki.
He wasn’t a stalker. He was just perceptive, sue him. The layout of the dining hall didn’t do his so-called stalking habits any favors, either.
The far left held the kitchen and their abundance of food options, as well as different fruits, vegetables, grains, breads, and more. Along the right wall, right beside the entrance, was a row of drink fountains, as well as every hot beverage a person could ever need.
He’s learned quickly that the people here don’t do things in halves. Makes sense, he guessed.
The rest of the vast hall was filled with an assortment of different tables. Along the back, different sized circular tables were spread out in front of the expansive windows that lined the walls. Beside that, on the far right of the hall were more typical, smaller bar-type seating. Tall tables with tall chairs around them, the kind that made Megumi feel like a kid when his legs would swing back and forth. Along the wall of the back corner, cushioned seats were attached right into the wall with tables spread out all along, mostly empty at this time.
Finally, three long skinny tables filled the centre, chairs lining either side. From his vantage point at the closest table to the exit, Megumi was able to see nearly the entire seating area with just a brief scan – just how he liked.
He could see one couple sat pressed up in the corner, at one of the circle tables by the window. They were nearly in each other’s laps with how close they were, and Megumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the PDA.
Okay, maybe Tsumiki had a bit of a point. It’s not his fault people were less annoying to watch than to talk to. He sipped at his coffee, grimacing slightly as the bitter liquid began to cool past a reasonable point.
A shout pulled his attention to the end of one of the longer tables, the one right in the middle. A larger group had congregated, it seemed, and not just all from one delegation either. Megumi could see numerous different emblems adorning their clothes – he even thinks he might have seen a Japanese flag or two. Megumi’s lips pursed. It was too early, in Megumi’s opinion, for them to be shouting like this – too annoying with too much of the day still left to go.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he pulled a face, realizing how much of an old man he sounded like. God, he needed to get out more if he didn’t want to wind up turning his twenties into his eighties.
Letting his eyes drift around, Megumi continued with his people watching. His hands gently fidgeted with the paper cup that still housed a little bit of cold coffee.
Eventually, his eyes were subconsciously drawn to a somewhat familiar sight, though he had to do a double take before he could place it.
Japanese, pink hair, and a blinding smile. He was walking with a plate piled with foods from nearly every continent, by the looks of it. This time, though, he wasn’t with the second pink haired guy this time, the older – and meaner – looking one. Instead, he was chatting with a boy who looked to be about their age. He was a little bit taller than the pink haired boy, black hair falling across his face nearly blocking his eyes.
He couldn’t explain why, but Megumi’s gaze stuck in the pink haired boy even as he sat down. Curiously, the black haired boy didn’t join him, instead heading back towards the kitchen. The pink haired boy didn’t seem to falter, instead just sinking into his own seat and digging into his food.
Megumi continued to stare far longer than socially acceptable, unsure why he was so captivated by this pink haired boy he had seen twice now in the past twenty-four hours. However, just for a moment, it was like he could sense Megumi.
From across the dining hall, the pink haired boy raised his gaze, locking eyes with Megumi before he could pull away. And for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, the boy’s face cracked into a wide grin.
Megumi didn’t stay long enough to see what the pink haired boy did next. Cheeks warm, likely warmer than the remains of the coffee he dumped in the trash, Megumi swiftly made his exit from the dining hall.
He let his legs carry him back towards his room automatically as a weird feeling churned around in his stomach. At least this time there was no one there to bug him, no Tsumiki there to do something stupid, like yell across the hall or try and confess Megumi’s undying love for this stranger they had never met. It wouldn’t be the first time, and Megumi unfortunately doubted it would’ve been the last, either.
Already, the motion to scan himself into the buildings had become muscle memory. Megumi found himself slipping through the heavy door onto his floor before he even realized he had made it back. His room was just as he and Tsumiki had left it last night. Messy wasn’t necessarily accurate – more like dishevelled. Neatly folded clothes strewn in fairly contained piles littered the floor. Charging cords sat in tangled mess in the corner where he had abandoned them in frustration, cursing his past self for shoving them all hastily in his backpack at the hotel.
As if on cue, his phone vibrated. Megumi slipped it out of his pocket, wincing slightly as he eyed the small 18% sitting at the top. Three unread texts from Gojo sat waiting for him at the bottom of his lockscreen, joined by a fourth with yet another buzz.
Satoru Gojo
Today 8:04
Good morning to my favorite little student 😁
Favourite little Olympian** actually
How’s the village life so far?
Make any new friends?
Megumi rolled his eyes. Sometimes Gojo acted like a mix of a first-time parent sending their kid off to their first day of school and an overeager puppy on steroids or something. Megumi typed out a quick response.
Today 8:05
you sound like tsumiki
it’s a competition, not my first day of kindergarten
Rude.
Also I came first, so really Tsumiki would sound like me
whatever 🙄
Swiping away from Gojo’s contact, he scrolls through any other unread messages, scanning the content for lack of anything better to do. What quickly devolved into mindlessly scrolling up and down his chats is interrupted by another text from Gojo.
Satoru Gojo
Today 8:09
By the way, rink time is booked for us tomorrow and Wednesday
didn’t we already get the rink schedule?
i thought skating wasn't supposed to start until thursday?
Sure, the official ice time
But this doesn’t need to be official
Megumi waited for Gojo to elaborate, but naturally no other message came. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wasn’t one to say no to extra ice time.
Today 8:14
well i’m not complaining
time?
10:30 tomorrow morning
11 at the latest
Wednesday TBD
👍
Megumi set his phone onto the small nightstand after watching his battery sink down to 17%. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the pile of cords as if it would intimidate them into untangling themselves. He let out a sigh, grabbing the cords and weaving them through each other one by one. How was it possible for three cords to get this tangled in the span of like… a day? Once the charger he needed was free, Megumi abandoned the rest in favour of plugging in his phone.
With nothing better to do, Megumi left the phone to charge while he busied himself with the rest of his clothes and belongings half unpacked and scattered across the room.
Fiddling with his lanyard, Megumi waited semi-impatiently for Maki to emerge from the rink. His cousin’s girlfriend, Nobara, was leaned up against the wall, scrolling her phone absentmindedly, as if she hadn’t just abducted him from his own room.
“God, you’re so sour,” She looked up. “Lighten up a little.”
“You just assaulted my door until I let you in, before forcing me out with you,” Megumi deadpanned.
“Details,” Nobara smiled, waving a dismissive hand in front of her face. “I’m hungry, Maki’s gonna want food when she’s done.”
“Remind me again what that has to do with me?” Megumi snarked, though there wasn’t much real bite. He didn’t mind Maki’s girlfriend, even if she was a little… much for his taste sometimes.
“Well, who else is going to come with us?” Nobara shrugged. Hints of a smile pulled at Megumi’s lips, though he refused to let it show.
It always caught him off guard on the rare occasions Maki and Nobara were around when Tsumiki wasn’t – despite her absence, they still sought him out. He wasn’t just an extension of his sister, but an actual friend, who they went out of their way to include. He’d never admit out loud the way his heart warmed with Nobara’s incessant knocking or texts, or Maki’s demands he join them.
Megumi only scoffed as Nobara’s attention drifted back to her phone. It wasn’t long before the doors to the rink swung open, a handful of athletes lugging large hockey bags behind them parading out. Maki split from the group as she bid goodbye to one of her teammates, beelining for him and Nobara as soon as she spotted them.
“Hey,” She said, a little breathless. Her face was still a little flushed, sweat slicking her forehead. “I didn’t know you two would be here waiting.”
“Figured you’d be hungry,” Nobara pocketed her phone, slipping her hand into Maki’s. “And I picked up a stray.”
“More like abducted one,” Megumi rolled his eyes as she jabbed a thumb in his direction.
“Oh, so you admit you’re a stray then?” Nobara said, smirking as she twisted his words.
“I’m leaving,” Megumi deadpanned.
“C’monnn, Megs, don’t be like that,” Nobara whined as the three of them started down the hall.
“Don’t call me that,” Megumi huffed.
“Hate to interrupt, but can we stop by your room, Megumi?” Maki cut in, adjusting her bag on her shoulders. “I wanna drop my bag off before we hit the dining hall, and yours is the closest.”
“Yeah, sure,” Megumi shrugged. Nobara and Maki were still in the same building – with all the Team Japan athletes – but Nobara was a floor above him, Maki on the fourth. Megumi had been lucky enough for a ground level room. The convenience of no stairs or elevator far outweighed losing a ‘better’ window view.
Making their way through the Oval – what he had learned the centre of the North Village was called – it wasn’t long before they split off from the main hallway. Most of the others continued through towards the dining hall, but a few others veered off towards the North dorms, and a few down to the South Village as well.
The walk was short and relatively quiet, but somehow it didn’t feel awkward, either. Nobara and Maki were a few paces behind him, chatting quietly with their hands intertwined together. Reaching the entrance to their building, Megumi scanned his ID card automatically, grabbing at the door handle as the light flashed green.
Holding the door open, Megumi glanced behind them at the group that had been following them. Catching his eye was a head of pink hair. Again. Was this dude seriously everywhere?
He wasn’t alone either, surrounded by the second set of pink hair, plus a few others. They had come from the same rink as Maki, hadn’t they? Probably a hockey player then, on the men’s team.
Megumi briefly wondered if he should ask Maki about him, before he internally shoved that thought away. Way to still be a stalker, Megumi.
Instead, Megumi let the door fall as he quickened his pace in order to catch up with Maki and Nobara. He kept his head forwards even as the group’s loud voices followed the trio down the hall.
Coming to a stop in front of his room, Megumi pushed past Maki and Nobara to unlock the door. All three of them were forced to press close to the door before they could make it inside as the group behind them passed, clearly not caring for personal space.
For the second time since coming to the Olympic Village, Megumi locked eyes with the pink haired boy. Before he could really process it, the boy was gone, pulled down the hall with the rest of his group while Megumi was tugged inside his own room by Nobara.
“Jesus, could those guys take up any less room?” Nobara scoffed, crossing her arms as she glared at the now closed door.
“Ignore them, Noh,” Maki huffed fondly. “Men are idiots. Men who play hockey are even worse.”
“You know them, then?” Megumi blurted, eyes slipping to Maki before he could process his own question.
“Nah, not really,” She said, letting her bag fall to the floor with a heavy thud. “Well, Kirara, I do. The girl with the piercings and hair. She plays on the women’s team with me.”
Megumi couldn’t help but stare at the door, questions about the pink haired boy he kept seeing burning on his tongue.
“If she was there, her boyfriend, Hakari, definitely was too,” Maki continued as if she could sense Megumi’s curiosity. She bent down, fishing through her bag to find something as Megumi watched her face harden, “He’s a hockey player as well. Men’s team. I think most of the others were from the men’s team, actually.”
“Huh, that adds up,” Nobara grumbled. “Assholes.”
“Not a fan, then?” Megumi said, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth between his cousin and her girlfriend. He felt a little like he was missing something as their lighthearted attitudes seemed to tense.
“You could say that,” Maki snorted humourlessly, standing back up with her ID card in hand. “You already know how I feel about the coach, but spending the past three hours together is far past the limit I can handle of those fuckfaces.”
Maki headed for the door, and Megumi picked up on the silent message of ‘leave it’ her words conveyed. He glanced over at Nobara, who only shrugged at the genuine hostility present in her girlfriend's tone.
“Let’s get out of this depressing room,” Nobara said, bouncing back to her usual – annoying – energy as she linked hands with Maki again. “I want food.”
“My room isn’t depressing, thank you very much, I just moved in yesterday,” Megumi retorted, slipping outside the door as he pulled his shut behind him. Megumi and Nobara continued to argue the entire way down the hall, distracting all three of them from whatever weird mood had come up earlier.
But even as they made their way out, Megumi caught one more glance in his peripheral vision. The pink haired boy, alone now, leaning halfway outside a door. Voices still floated down the hall, no doubt waiting for the pink haired boy to join them.
Instead, those honey-brown eyes were trained on Megumi, even as the door closed between them.
Whatever energy Megumi had felt the morning before in the dining hall paled in comparison to the sheer volume – both of physical bodies and actual volume – that was present now.
The countdown had officially begun. Twenty-four hours until the first event. Less than forty-eight until the Opening Ceremony. In two days, everything they had all worked for would be real. Megumi’s heart hammered in his chest at the thought as he fiddled with the half eaten croissant on his plate.
“Hello? Earth to Fushiguro?” A hand waved in front of his face.Megumi rolled his eyes, setting the croissant down to face Panda as he swatted the other’s hand away.
“Still asleep over there?” Panda teased. Megumi didn’t reply, simply stealing a grape off his plate in retaliation. Panda gasped, and Megumi let a smug grin fall onto his face as he popped another into his mouth.
“Morning, losers,” Maki greeted them, setting her plate down across from Panda and settling into the spot beside Yuta. That made five of them now – Megumi, Panda, Maki, Yuta, and Toge – out of the six that had somehow seemingly formed a little group. At some point or another, Megumi had been added to a group chat with his cousin, her girlfriend, and a few other Japanese athletes… plus Panda.
Panda was a familiar face at least, for both Megumi and Maki. While they were never particularly close, Panda had played hockey with Maki for a good few years before his family moved across the globe. The three of them still kept in contact, even if it was just a silly post sent every few weeks or so. It was nice getting a chance to see the other in person again, even if he wasn’t here representing Japan.
The other two, Yuta and Toge, were less familiar to Megumi. Friend of a friend, he guessed. Through Panda, Maki, or maybe a mixture of both. Regardless, though, they seemed nice, and Megumi enjoyed their quiet company opposed to some of the others he had resigned himself to being stuck with.
Nobara, on that note, was noticeably absent. Not a shock on its own, but it was mildly surprising to see her apart from Maki when they didn’t need to be.
‘Nobara’s here too, by the way,” Bingo, Megumi smiled to himself as Maki informed them. “She spotted someone and ran off while we were getting food. Not entirely sure what that was all about.”
“What what was all about?” Nobara chimed in from behind Megumi, making him jump.
“Speak of the devil,” Panda huffed under his breath. Nobara smacked the back of his head without any hesitation.
“We were just talking about how much we hate you. Y’know, the usual,” Maki deadpanned as Nobara took the long way around the table to sit beside her girlfriend.
“Right, right, of course,” Nobara replied sarcastically.
“What took you so long anyways?” Maki asked, taking another bite before she turned to Nobara. She swallowed, “You literally got here with me.”
“I told you, I saw someone. He said he’d come over when he got his food,” Nobara said, gracefully shoving a piece of bacon into her mouth.
“And who is this?” Yuta asked, brow furrowing. “We’ve been here for like… two days. How have you even had a chance to meet anyone new?”
“Poor, sweet Yuta. If this was high school, I’d’ be in charge of the entire building by now. Two days is nothing. Don’t underestimate me,” Nobara glared around Maki, who was currently acting as a human blockade between the two.
Yuta raised his hands placatingly, but was distracted as another boy started walking up to the stretch of the long centre table they had claimed to be their spot this morning.
A boy, a Japanese boy. With pink hair. And a blinding smile.
Seriously?
“Yuji!” Nobara called out, grabbing the pink haired boy's attention. “Over here!”
Nobara practically dragged the boy over, sitting him down beside her as if she were a little kid demanding people play tea party with her. Not for the first time, Megumi is glad he didn’t know Nobara as a little kid.
Everybody, Nobara included, stared expectantly at him. Megumi had to admit, he felt a little bad – having been subjected to Nobara’s demands himself one too many times. However, the curious side of Megumi won over. Despite his best efforts, Megumi swears he’s run into this boy one way or another more times than he’s seen Gojo in the past two days.
“Uh, hi?” He said sheepishly. “Nobara told me to come sit with you guys. I’m Yuji- uhm- Itadori. Yuji Itadori.”
Panda’s eyes widened with some form or recognition, but before he could say anything Itadori seemingly scanned across the group.
“Hey, wait, Maki, right? Zen’in?” Itadori broke out into a grin as his eyes fell onto Maki. Megumi bristled at the mention of their technically shared family name.
“Hey, Itadori! Long time, no see, I guess,” Maki joked. “Itadori here is on the men’s hockey team. For Japan, that is.”
Itadori nodded along, “Yeah, I met Maki at yesterday’s practice. Small world, I guess?”
“Something like that,” Nobara smirked.
“Hey, wait, I know you too,” Itadori’s face split into a grin as his focus shifted onto Megumi of all people. “You’re on the first floor, right? Of the Japan building?”
Megumi’s face went warm at the thought of Itadori recognizing him. He prayed it wasn’t as visible as it felt as he cleared his throat.
“Uh, yeah. I don’t think we’ve actually met, though,” Megumi managed to get out.
“I think my brother almost ran you over on the first day,” Itadori muses, squinting like he’s actually trying to physically recall the memory. Cute, his brain traitorously whispers.
“I don’t-” Megumi started, before immediately being cut off.
“No, he definitely did. Because I remember seeing you glare at me after, and you kinda looked a little scary. But then I swear I saw you, like, a million times after that,” Itadori rambled, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as he finished.
“Oh?” Nobara’s eyes snap to Megumi’s, a mischievous glint settling across them.
“Anyways,” Megumi clears his throat, attempting to change the topic. “It’s nice to meet you, Itadori. I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Figure skater.”
“Panda,” Panda chimed in from beside Megumi. “I play hockey too, but not for Japan. I was born and raised there though. Dual citizen.”
“That’s so cool,” Itadori beamed, seeming genuinely interested.
“Yuta Okkotsu, skiing,” Yuta smiled. He gestured to Toge on his left, “Inumaki’s a snowboarder.”
“Nice. Is that sign language?” Itadori asked as Toge’s hands flew through a series of signs faster than Megumi could pick up on them. Megumi zoned out as they continued to talk around him, as if Itadori had been here all along.
The pink haired hockey player that had stubbornly been sticking in Megumi’s mind – Yuji Itadori, he now knows.
Itadori sat across from him, sneaking a glance over in Megumi’s direction even as he talked with Yuta and Toge, and then Maki, too. Megumi prayed to every deity in existence that his face didn’t look as warm as it felt.
Given the fact that Nobara had kicked him three times under the table as he was actively avoiding her gaze, he doubted that prayer would come true.
Megumi’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
Satoru Gojo
Today 10:12
Are you almost ready?
Megumi breathed a sigh of relief. Saved by Satoru Gojo, for once ever.
Today 10:12
yeah
just finishing up with breakfast
gimme 10 to grab my stuff from my room
i can be at the rink in like 15 minutes.
Sounds good. Take your time :)
“Hey guys, I’ve gotta head out,” Megumi said, pocketing his phone as he stood up. “I’ve got practice to get to.”
“Practices aren’t scheduled to start for you yet,” Maki’s brow furrowed, having gotten the same copy of the rink schedule that Megumi originally had. “How’d you manage to pull extra rink time already?”
“Try having Gojo as a coach,” Megumi rolled his eyes, collecting his plate. He reached over, grabbing Maki and Yuta’s empty plates for good measure. “Rules mean nothing to that mean.”
“Touché,” Maki snorted, raising her orange juice in a toast before downing the rest of it. She added the finished cup to Megumi’s growing dish pile.
“I should probably get going too,” Itadori chimed in, moving to stand. “Need a hand, Fushiguro?”
Megumi looked up from where he was trying to methodically stack the plates to see Itadori’s outstretched hand, eyes earnestly offering to help as they firmly met with Megumi’s own.
“Sure,” Megumi’s mouth went dry. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Itadori smiled, grabbing the rest of the dishes before they bid the rest of the group goodbye.
They walked into content silence, all but dumping the dirty dishes into the designated bins beside the doorway.
“Wait, Fushiguro,” Itadori called as Megumi went to leave. “Before you go?”
Megumi turned around to see Itadori, phone in hand and sheepishly offering it towards him.
“I already got Kugisaki and Maki’s numbers yesterday, and Panda and the others gave me theirs today. I was wondering…?” Itadori trailed off, like he was suddenly unsure.
“Oh, uh. Sure,” Megumi scrambled, caught off guard. He gingerly took the phone from Itadori, quickly typing in his name and phone number before he could think too much about it.
When he handed the phone back, Itadori flashed him the most blinding grin he had seen yet, enough to make Megumi’s stomach churn. It’s just pre-practice nerves, he lied to himself.
“Alright, I’ve gotta…” Megumi glanced at the door after a moment of them both simply standing there.
“Right, yeah. Thanks, by the way,” Itadori stammered out. He mumbled, the barest hint of pink dusting his cheeks, “I’ll text you, okay? So- so you can have my number too.”
“Okay,” Megumi eloquently responded, his brain taken up entirely by the sight in front of him.
“Okay,” Itadori parroted.
Megumi spun on his heel before he could make any more of a fool out of himself. His heart pounded the entire way back to his room, thundering in time with every footfall as breakfast replayed over and over in his head.
Just as he was about to slip into his room, Megumi felt his phone buzz again in his pocket. Rolling his eyes, Megumi scanned into his room. Gojo was probably beginning a rampage of spam texting because Megumi was definitely already late at this point. He threw the phone down on his bed as he slipped off his hoodie, replacing it with a slightly less comfortable jacket pulled from the merch rack.
Pulling his duffle bag out from where he had shoved it, Megumi threw in the hoodie, and anything else he needed for the next couple hours at the rink. Double checking that he still had his ID card, he shouldered the bag, grabbing his phone from where it had been discarded. 10:27. Oops.
Unlocking it, there was, to his surprise, no messages from Gojo. There were, however, three others waiting for him.
Unknown Number
(Maybe: Yuji Itadori)
Today 10:24
hey fushiguro!
it’s yuji itadori
now you have my number too ;)