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“So,” Gojo begins with his signature sleazy smile, not helped by the fact that he’s currently got his feet kicked up on the same table Megumi’s eating from. “What’s been going on lately?”
“Not much.” He replies automatically, eyeing Gojo’s shoes judgementally. His sensei makes no move to get his feet off the table, so Megumi just has to slide his bento into his lap.
“You always say that, Gumi.” Gojo groans, drawing his voice out while knocking his head back. “Surely something is happening! Y’know, my second-years are always telling me about some drama happening! You know Akamiya-chan from 2-3?”
“No.”
“Apparently her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend.” Gojo continues solemnly, sliding his feet off the table in respect for the tragedy.
Megumi’s brow twitches. Being in the teachers lounge during lunch may be a fate worse than death. He’s only here because Gojo’s technically doing him a service, protecting him from the head of school council looking to drag him to detention. Not his fault those delinquents picked a fight with him.
Gojo stares at him until he forces a reply from Megumi’s lips. “I don’t care.”
“See!” Gojo cries out, jabbing a finger in his direction, “And that’s why you’re horrible to eat lunch with! God, I wish Tsumiki was here…”
“Then ask.” He suggests blandly, prodding at his rice. Eyeing one of Gojo’s sappy handwritten notes wedged at the side, he makes a point of crumpling it up and chucking it in the bin.
Gojo makes a pained sound, pout settling on his features. Megumi’s uncomfortable by how much of a toddler his guardian is able to look like. “Be nice to your sensei!” He whinges, leaning against his palm. “Anyways, any friends in your class yet, or are you planning on being a dork the whole year?”
Megumi bristles at the word dork, brows furrowing as he glares.
Gojo doesn’t budge, looking bored. “If you’re not gonna talk to anyone, then you’re a dork. Simples.”
“I talk to people.”
“Oh yeah?” Gojo snorts, “Like who?”
“Itadori.”
Gojo scrunches up his face, rubbing his chin in consideration. It lights up once he remembers who Itadori is. “Oh! That pink-haired kid! He’s a nice guy; can’t believe he’s nice enough to talk to you, though.”
“Shut up.” Megumi stabs Gojo in the forehead with his chopsticks. He whines unhappily while petting his forehead dramatically.
Gojo sighs, “Well, what do you talk about then, if you’re gonna stab me in the head over him?”
Megumi belatedly realises that he’s just been tricked into talking about a classmate. Gojo’s kinda good at this, and it pisses him off to no end. Nevertheless, he finds himself still thinking about Itadori.
Megumi sits behind Itadori. And, okay, he might’ve been over-exaggerating the extent to which they ‘talk’, but still. Megumi gives him a pencil whenever he asks, and isn’t that still talking?
Itadori is athletic, constantly blowing everyone else out of the water in P.E. He’s already brought home a track and field trophy for the school. Whenever Megumi walks by the trophy case in the hallway, he makes sure to acknowledge Itadori’s accomplishment. Or, well, at least in his head.
He’s also nice. Really nice.
He says thank you to teachers after lessons—Megumi can’t fathom why; they all suck—and is always at anyone’s side asking whether they need help. He remembers names of irrelevant nobodies in their class (though Megumi supposes he’s probably one of those). He’s great at holding a conversation too, asking questions enthusiastically and adding his own perfectly-timed anecdotes.
Megumi assumes that if he tried to insert himself into these conversations, he’d trip over his own words and die.
Itadori may be a terrible student, but maybe that could give Megumi the opportunity to tutor him or something. He’s the only guy in his class who seems actually worth talking to.
“He’s nice.” Megumi sums up succinctly.
“Wasn’t my question.” Gojo huffs, descending into an even more petulant mood. “Anything else besides ‘nice’? Not giving me much here!”
“Well, he’s got a lot of friends. And a nice smile, I guess.” Megumi says, and Gojo’s eyes light up a weird amount. He continues hesitantly. “He’s, uh, the one guy in my class I’d consider talking to.”
“Just say you have a crush on him already.” Gojo suddenly cackles, leaning forward on his arms.
“What?” Megumi’s eyes widen in alarm, colour draining from his face instantly.
Gojo’s smile lingers, staring at Megumi’s expression. His eye twitches inquisitively, and soon his face drops. “Wait, really?”
“No!” Megumi snaps, getting to his feet abruptly. His scowl deepens as Gojo keeps looking, expression wide and blubbering like a fish. Embarrassment threatening to spill out, he turns on his heel and stomps off.
Gojo’s loud laughter picks up again, trailing him as he gets to the door. “You forgot your bento, Gumiii!”
“Keep it!” He shouts, slamming the door shut.
That… might not have been the best display to demonstrate that he did not have a… have feelings for…
Nevermind.
“Stop torturing him, Gojo.” Nanami grumbles as he pointedly takes a seat at the furthest table from him.
“Torture?” He snickers, twirling a piece of his hair idly. “No way did I torture poor old Gumi. He’s stronger than that.”
Nanami lets out a long, drawn out sigh. Silence settles in the air as the two eat lunch. Eventually, when the quiet becomes too boring for both men, Nanami speaks up first. (Surprisingly).
“I know some things about Itadori.”
“Gossip!” Gojo cheers, whooping far too loudly.
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Megumi spends the next week mulling over Gojo’s stupid suggestion. A… crush on… Itadori. It just doesn’t seem feasible.
He likes Itadori, sure, but he doesn’t like like him! That's just…
What exactly even is it…?
Maybe by spending every minute of class time staring at Itadori’s back, Megumi had only grown more enamoured with him. He refused to speak to Gojo at home the few days afterwards, which must’ve made it incredibly obvious. Fuck this.
Just by looking a little closer, he’s unearthed even more cute things Itadori does. Did he say cute? Uh…
Megumi toys with his rubber, ticking it back and forth on his desk. Just yesterday, Itadori had turned behind him and asked him for this very same rubber. Unfortunately, that also meant he’d caught him staring, which made it kind of awkward when Megumi couldn’t find the words to say and just handed it to him.
He blamed Gojo for that incident. He blames Gojo for a lot of things.
Itadori sits in front of him for another day. The same Itadori with the most infectious laughter Megumi’s ever heard. He finds himself smiling along to anything he’s saying to Kugasaki—another girl in his class who sits next to Itadori.
He loops that laughter in his head on occasion, wondering what makes it so appealing. He’s used to evil cackles like Gojo’s, and serene giggles like Tsumiki’s, not something so… nice.
“Anything else besides ‘nice’?”
His ears burn hotly at the memory, curling in on himself. How stupid could he have been not to realise his crush?
Shut it, he hisses to himself in his mind. Though even he’s not sure what he’ll get out of thinking that. Maybe it’ll reverse all this and he can figure out how to talk to Itadori like a normal person.
“Fushiguro-kun,” The teacher calling his name snaps him out of his reverie, and his glare comes up to meet Mr. Kanekawa. “Care to answer this question?”
Megumi sits up straighter, attempting to look at the board. Itadori swivels around, offering him a empathetic look. His eyes immediately stray from the equations, and back to his crush’s chocolate eyes and the downturn of his lips.
“…No.” He murmurs, slinking back into his seat.
A small chorus of laughter bubbles from the classroom, having the time of their lives poking fun at him. Megumi’s lip curls in annoyance.
Itadori looks at him a second longer, an odd look on his face before he turns back around.
Megumi shrivels up like a leaf, curling in on himself and forcing his eyes to not look back up out of embarrassment. His work has never looked less appealing than now.
…And Itadori any more appealing, too.
His drives his pencil deep into his page, huffing frustratedly. Surely this doesn’t need to be so hard!
Lunch isn’t much better. Well—in general, but today it’s worse because he has to watch all his classmates easily slot themselves into conversation with Itadori. None of them even look the least bit uncomfortable.
Before this little… Okay, there’s no word for it that’s better. This little crush, Megumi would spend lunch time sitting outside, trying to will Tsumiki to not come pester him about the importance of making friends. He’d read and sometimes sneak off to out of bounds areas. He treasured lunch, as he’d most certainly be given more peace there than he’d ever get at home.
Now, however, he finds himself stuck in his seat. Like Itadori’s presence has strung chains around his legs and forced Megumi to sit with baited breath while Itadori puts on a show of being so utterly cute.
Unfortunately, since he’s spent basically every lunch eyeing Itadori’s conversations, Kugisaki has begun to raise a brow whenever she catches his gaze. Megumi narrows his eyes and drags himself back to focus on his bland bento. Well, before he goes right back to staring down their talk.
Today’s lunch plays out pretty similarly to how they have for the past week.
“Didja see that monster movie on last weekend, Kugisaki?” Itadori grins up at the pompous girl, who’s stood by his desk with her hip cocked.
“Wouldn’t be caught dead there.” Kugisaki rolls her eyes exasperatedly. Megumi redirects his piercing gaze to her, brows furrowed. Who wouldn’t go out of their way to see a movie so they could talk to Itadori? She’s insane.
Megumi wouldn’t wanna be seen watching some cringe movie either, but still… y’know. He’d do it for a topic of conversation.
“I saw it!” Another boy perks up, dark brown hair covering one side of his face. Yoshino, Megumi thinks his name is. But how can he be so certain? The guy’s kinda meaningless.
“You did?!” Itadori snaps his head around, lips pulling apart further in glee.
Yoshino nods excitedly, blabbering on animatedly. Megumi huffs; there’s only so much time during lunch, and he wants to hear more about Itadori, not this clown.
Now’s about the time when Kugisaki gets to staring right back at Megumi. She juts her lip out in disgust, eyeing him up and down. He glares right back, until eventually she scoffs and moves onto a conversation with some other girl. Megumi doesn’t give a shit.
He’s tuning in attentively to Itadori’s conversation even though Yoshino’s the only one talking, until he feels a buzz in his pocket. Megumi quirks a brow—there’s only a few people who know to message him, so this is… odd.
He pulls out his phone, waiting inquisitively for it to turn on.
>> From: Gojo
(12:58PM)
soooo how’s the crush coming along!!!
got his number yet????
nah you don’t have the guts
Megumi considers chucking his phone on the floor, but he’s concerned that it could ricochet and hit Itadori. He places it neatly back in his pocket instead, vowing to curse Gojo out the second he gets home. Or just when he walks past the staff room. Either will do.
The message sobers him up, and suddenly he’s left to realise that he’s being really, really obvious about everything. He slams his head against his desk, frowning so deeply that it’s probably leaving indentations.
Megumi needs to stop this. Desperately.
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He feels like a drug addict saying this, but quitting his crush is a lot harder than it looks. Itadori simply shines too brightly, and Megumi’s only known shitty people so such earnesty is a commodity and something he’s come to realise he doesn’t want to live without. Also, him being cute is definitely a factor.
His scruffy hair which sticks out in a crowd, his dimples (Megumi thinks about those a lot, and if there’s a chance they could appear because of a joke Megumi might make!), and Itadori’s overall boyish charm—they’ve all captured his heart in an incredibly embarrassing way.
Gojo also knows about these facts since he scoured Megumi's diary. And then got a punch thrown at him. Followed by just a few more punches and plenty more shouting.
He came into school today with a deep bruise on his face, and Megumi was forced to watch just about every female ever whine and fawn over the barely visible purple accents to his cheek like moths drawn to the world's brightest flame. He knows that Gojo has plenty of ways to hide a bruise, but apparently he needed the attention.
Anyways. It’s been yet another week, and absolutely nothing has changed.
Well, Gojo seems a little less confident to outright tease Megumi about his crush ever since he got that punch. Not worried or unwilling to tease, no; Gojo would never back down.
Tsumiki gave him some good advice at least. She said Megumi should try and find things Itadori likes—action movies, baseball, his odd little occult club (Megumi already knew this stuff)—and strike up a conversation about it. Little does she know, Megumi had already tried this about a thousand times in his head, but
imaginary-Itadori had rejected him each time.
He didn’t mention this to his sister. He already feels like a loser only being able to watch on as Itadori gets closer to their classmates and therefore further away from Megumi.
The clock above the teacher’s head slowly meanders forward, counting down the number of seconds until Megumi can escape this Gojo-infested shithole. Even with his c-word on Itadori, he still wants to flee as soon as possible, desperately trying not to make a fool of himself anymore.
Students beside him scribble madly as they try to finish their work before the bells rings. Unfortunately for them, Mrs. Suzuki won’t let anyone go unless they’ve finished all their assignments. She makes a point of this every class, and yet everyone still panics at the end and flails in an attempt to appease her so they can leave.
Nevertheless, Itadori is still whisper-shouting to Kugisaki as she lazily writes on her page. He’s never been proficient at being quiet, Megumi’s noticed—yet another eccentricity he’s come to adore. Plus, it makes it easier to listen into their conversations, however much of an absolute stalker he sounds like saying that.
Somehow, Itadori can easily worm his way out of Mrs. Suzuki’s strict attitude with just a few words. Either Itadori just has the charm to defrost any severe personality, or he really does have some superpowers. He just says that he was helping someone with their work and forgot about his, and suddenly she’s all kind nods and smiles.
It’s weird.
Megumi finished his work ages ago, so he redirects his eyes from Itadori and back to the clock. When he’s staring at it, it feels like time itself is flowing slower. Every tick drowned out by the sharp indentations of lead against paper.
He lets out a sigh, chin falling against his desk. If he’s caught sleeping, he’ll be given yet another detention…
Eventually, however, time does begin to pick up its regular pace, and the bell sings its melodic tune and allows for Megumi to pack up. He may be able to catch the tail end of a documentary if he makes it home quickly. Or he could catch up on his reading. Though, he still needs to walk Kuro and Shiro… Hm…
He slowly inserts his books into his carrier bag, inwardly planning his after-school activities. Megumi’s so engrossed in the action that he fails to notice someone standing in front of him.
“Excuse me.” Megumi bristles at the words, ceasing his movement as he debates whether to even give this person the time of day. If Mrs. Suzuki is going to personally assign him a detention for maybe napping a little in her class, then she can—
The moment Megumi lifts his head, all words fail him, and he forgets what kind of cruel punishment he’d dreamed up for Mrs. Suzuki.
Itadori stands before him, looking as unsurprisingly cute as usual. Megumi’s shy eyes had never gotten a proper look at the other’s boy face standing in front of him—he’s usually just relegated to staring at the back of his head instead, where there's so much less to see.
Itadori’s head is tipped downwards marginally, lips twitching awkwardly, as though he’s readying the words before saying them. Megumi may not be the best with expressions, or… people, but Itadori looks… sheepish. Wait. Why? What’s with him?
“Fushiguro?” He urges one more time, like he expects a response. Megumi’s hardly sure he’s in the headspace to return one, but…
“What?” He asks.
Itadori’s fingers which are apparently on his desk withdraw, and he steels his eyes a little bit more. “Er, this is gonna be a weird question, but… um…” He pauses, staring a fleck of eraser still on the wood. He raises his gentle eyes with the confidence of a wet dog. “Do you not like me, Fushiguro-kun?”
Megumi stares. And stares. And probably stares a bit too much because Itadori begins to step back tentatively, like he’s afraid Megumi will start breathing fire.
“What?” He repeats, completely lacking in anything to say.
Itadori stops in his tracks, awkwardly wiping his palms against his trousers. “I mean—it’s, well, okay if you do.”
“I don’t…” Megumi mouths, only realising a few seconds later it sounded like he was answering Itadori’s initial question.
The pink-haired boy winces, scratching at nothing on his shirt now.
Megumi manages to swallow around the pebble in his throat. “I don’t not like you.”
“You don’t?” Itadori perks, and Megumi allows himself to relax a teensy bit at the action. He just has to successfully direct Itadori to what he really thinks, without revealing his incredibly obvious crush.
Easy… nah, probably not easy.
He remembers now, of all times, that this is their first proper conversation, and suddenly he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of embarrassment.
Megumi only checks in halfway through what Itadori is saying, reminding himself that to talk with anyone—especially his crush—he has to be actively listening!
“—catch you glaring at me, y’know?” Itadori murmurs, voice quiet and wavering. He hasn’t ever seen this on Itadori before. Megumi’s really screwed up if his misunderstanding has fostered the first bit of nervousness he’s ever presented out loud from the boy.
“And!” Itadori stands up straighter, “And you always seem to be avoiding me on purpose!”
Yeah, cause I have a disgusting, disturbingly loud crush on you, Itadori.
“So… I just wanted to know if I’d done anything wrong…?” Itadori prompts, head cocked like a puppy. “Or like… y’know…”
Megumi stands there shell-shocked. He hadn’t prepared for when the conversation would come back to him, and now he’s screwed. He doesn’t want to word-vomit anything embarrassing accidentally, but if he takes too long, it’ll become even more awkward!
“I glare…?” He asks.
Itadori quirks a brow, looking like he’s trying to figure out if Megumi’s serious or not. If he’s doing that, then what he said must’ve been so utterly dumb even Itadori’s unimpressed. The quirk in his brow relaxes as he exclaims, “Like crazy!”
Gojo had always said he had a brooding face, whatever that meant, but… well… he didn’t think of it as this obvious.
Megumi pauses awkwardly, shifting in his stance. He tugs at a hair, stretching it even more awkwardly spiky.
“Huh.” Itadori speaks up, thankfully ending that silence. Megumi thinks he would’ve died if that lasted any longer. “You’re a lot less menacing than I thought.”
His face scrunches in bafflement. Itadori quirks a brow at his pinched expression before laughing. It’s airy and portrays all the amicableness the boy has in spades. It’s like a symphonic melody which Megumi has been waiting all his life to hear.
“Okay, Shakespeare.”
His vision of Gojo’s response has him immediately abandoning whatever sappy things he wasn’t thinking, and his expression likely only becomes more aggravated.
Itadori’s laughing stops, and his brows turn downwards in sympathy. “Ah, sorry, Fushiguro. Didn’t mean to, well, laugh in your face.”
Is Megumi just meant to say “it’s fine” and then they can move on? This should be offensive to him, but it’s far too easy to forgive a naturally sweet Itadori on just about anything.
He spends far too long thinking about what to reply with, trailing off after, “That’s not…”
“Well…” Itadori says at the same time, trying to fill up the awkwardness with words. “I’m
glad you don’t not like me.”
Megumi, even with all his utter inability to read social situations, can sense the conversation is coming to a conclusion. Panic lodges in his throat as he realises that his first proper time talking with Itadori is about to end with him still wary of Megumi’s opinions on him. So, idiotically, he replies with something unnecessary.
“I like you, Itadori.” Megumi murmurs, overcome with flush once he notices how eerily similar it sounds to a confession— “You’re cool.”
Great save.
“Huh?” Itadori blurts. Megumi manages to keep his gaze trained on the other boy for a good three seconds before dropping it to his shoes. He can hear the smile pick up in Itadori’s tone, preening and suddenly confident. “Really? You think I’m cool?”
Megumi doesn’t reply.
“Hey, c’mon!” Itadori bubbles, giggling to himself. He knocks Megumi’s shoulder back with a gentle fist, and he looks up in shock. “Thanks, Fushiguro. That’s real nice of you.”
“Uh…” Megumi cows. “No problem.”
“Well, anyone who likes me, I like!” Itadori beams before faltering marginally. “Wait, does that sound self-centred?”
“A bit.” Megumi huffs, smiling lightly.
Itadori’s eyes bulge a little, likely at Megumi’s less than amazing smile. He’d be embarrassed, but he’s chuffed himself for getting Itadori so happy. Though, he supposes that’s pretty natural for the boy…
“So,” Itadori hums, “Why don’t you just come talk to me, instead of glaring at me?”
Megumi frowns.
He giggles. “What? Can’t say the truth?”
Megumi never read Itadori as an incredibly observant guy, so he’s gonna pin this on Kugisaki. Spineless girl ratted him out, and now he has to admit that, yes, he may have been glaring but it was for love.
“Because there are always lots of people around you.” Megumi says, feigning nonchalance but with his voice far too quiet for it to be even slightly believable. It instead just sounds exactly like what he’s doing, admitting to something pretty embarrassing.
“Huh.” Itadori considers, blinking off to the side as he ponders over this. “Hey, does that mean you find me scary?”
Megumi’s lungs knock out the words from him, “What?”
“Like! Intimidating!” He grins, “Intimidatingly cool.”
That could not be further from the truth of how he perceives Itadori! And… is he really being seen as scary? That’s just depressing.
“I mean, you did say I’m cool!” Itadori brags. Seriously, saying that might’ve done more bad than good for his crush’s mental state. His head might get too big to hold up if this goes on. And yet Megumi has the compulsion to shower him with even more compliments. “Hehe, you did! Don’t deny it!”
“You’re not intimidating, Itadori.” Megumi bristles, needing to protect his pride at least a little bit. “You’re not even that cool.”
“Aw, now that just hurts to hear.” Itadori pouts, crossing his arms. He remains like this for a few seconds (probably an eternity for the boy’s overactive brain) before bursting out smiling again. “Well, you’re free to join us, if you stop finding me intimidatingly cool and just and extra cool!”
Megumi nods doggedly, really unsure of what to say to such an enthusiastic character. He’s acting like he doesn’t have a crush on this very same boy. And that he’s not bumbling over his words.
Hey… wait. Did he somehow coax another interaction out of Itadori? So this won’t be there last?
“Um, okay.”
“We won’t bite your head off, I promise.” Itadori smiles breezily. “Well, maybe besides Kugisaki.”
Megumi snorts. Itadori looks at him a little funnily.
“Er, well, speaking of Kugisaki, she’ll probably kill me if I keep her waiting any longer.” He rubs the back of his head before extending his arm in a wave. “So I’ll catch you later, Fushiguro!”
Megumi blinks. “Oh. Bye.”
Itadori’s out too quickly for Megumi to remember to tell him to have fun, and now he’s just left in perhaps the weirdest trance of his life. The conversation is… over, right? Itadori’s not hiding behind some corner? Can he relax?
Megumi’s eyes slowly descend to the wooden desk. They meander upward to the spot he thinks he remembers Itadori resting his fingers on at some point in their conversation.
He barely remembers anything he contributed to their chat. It was probably stupid anyway.
The classroom is silent, only the soft rustling of leaves outside the open windows audible. Gentle footsteps sound outside the door—happy laughter and chatter. Itadori really is amazing.
And pretty. And cute. And really awesome. And sweet and nice and cute.
Did he already say cute?