Archive of Our Own

It was cold for a summer night, Megumi had noticed. 

As with every other day, the drop in temperature welcomed a familiar bite once the sun had set. But tonight, a daunting obscurity churned in Megumi’s stomach. The chill caused a shiver he couldn't differ from his own unease and the wind slivered down his spine. He couldn’t ignore it, but he hoped it’d go as quickly as it’d come. 

With his skin prickling, he wrapped his arms around himself as he made his way up a short fleet of stairs. 

Every Tuesday, Megumi stopped by Hana’s house to check on her. To him, there was an accustomed feeling of obligation to a responsibility he’d sworn he discarded. 

He kept walking after traversing the stairs until stalling in front of Hana’s apartment, knocking on her door. A second passed, then another, until it felt the world had gone still as he waited for the worn door in front of him to open. 

He’d knocked loud enough, hadn't he? 

Lifting his hand to the door again, he gave another set of knocks, setting his fists heavier to the wood this time. Any other day, Hana would have already eagerly greeted him. 

The lack of response from the other side of the door, to Megumi, was another irregularity of many that day. Everything had been as always: routine and boring. But it was quieter today, as even the cicadas kept their volume. And unlike every other day, he hadn’t received a text from Itadori with a “good morning” gif that he stupidly didn’t realize meant so much to him until its absence. Now this, with Hana testing his patience and concern equally. Yuji’s missing morning text, annoyingly, had set off this chain reaction that left Megumi bothered by the littlest things. 

Instead of trying to pound on chipped paint again, Megumi pulled out his phone. He began to dial Hana’s contact, and like a hidden cue, the door opened. It swung with torpid motion, a bright figure behind it.

Hana’s hair swayed lively, though her jade eyes were set low.  

“Sorry it took me a second to get to the door, I was finishing my dinner,” she apologized, stepping aside. 

Reassured from worry, Megumi strolled inside, stopping short at the living room and standing by the couch. Hana closed the door before looking over to Megumi with a small smile. Megumi reciprocated her pleasantry with a look that was less cold than his resting face. He’d been relieved to notice her eagerness towards him had lessened over his visits, clear now more than ever with her lethargy. Still, Hana’s affection all but slowed. Her constant bombardments affirmed Megumi’s decision of keeping his romantic life and interests private— not that he had a relationship to indulge in or hide. 

“I hope it’s not an issue that I came later today,” he murmured. 

“No, it’s quite alright. I understand how busy you can get.”

Megumi frowned, but stayed silent. His “busy” was doing laundry and completing a quick exorcism mission. He guessed he’d been lucky to squeeze in cleaning his apartment, too. 

His eyes roamed across Hana’s filled apartment, eventually drifting back to the blond-bobbed woman who’d gone to clean her kitchen. The sound of water began to run, followed by the gentle clinking of dishes. She was abnormally calm, he realized— as still as her home. Had she already gotten over her crush? Megumi humored the idea before dismissing it; just yesterday she was fervently messaging him over her excitement at his nearing visit. Whatever had changed, he had an aching feeling he was involved with it. 

And it wasn’t that he didn’t mind the silence, often finding comfort in it, but an atmosphere “at peace” with blatant asperity lying beneath irked him more than anything. 

He watched her from the couch, the hairs on his arms standing up again. That off-putting sensation from outside wasn’t just the wind, then, he surmised. 

By the time the running water cut off and Hana reentered the room, Megumi had thought of what to say. 

“I was planning on us going to that ramen place tonight. You mentioned it last week.” he said, noting the way Hana paused. “For brushing you off the last time you asked. I admit I was rude.” 

The light in Hana’s eyes sparked, but as she narrowed her eyes the brightness fizzled. She spoke sharply, careful not to trip over her words. “Just because you feel bad, right? It wouldn’t have been a date?”

Megumi lifted his eyebrows. He still couldn’t prepare himself for Hana’s bluntness, even when he could see it coming. 

“Yes.” He affirmed, blunt in a polar way of own.  

Hana didn’t fight to keep her placidly fake smile, gripping the edges of her sweater, hands stuck to her sides.

“Yeah, I figured as much now.” She grumbled.

Megumi’s brows furrowed, wondering what she meant. Ever since Hana failed to open the door at his first knock, he felt like obvious hints were being dangled right in front of him that he couldn’t grasp.

Suddenly, Hana fell into a deep bow, her hair sweeping forward. 

“Thank you for your kindness, but you don’t have to treat me to dinner at any time. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” Her shoulders hunched forward more, shaking slightly. “But I really want to apologize for trying to come onto you over and over when it was clear I’m not where your heart resides. Forgive me, Megumi.”

Static, Megumi stared widely, his face pulling into an expression beyond bewilderment. Surely, she couldn’t be talking about…

Hana rose swiftly, sniffling before walking back towards her door. Megumi's eyes stayed where she’d been before her voice cut the air.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you. It’s fine for you to leave now, but thank you for checking on me.” 

Megumi turned his body to Hana, eyebrows taut.

“What was that just now?” He didn’t mean to come off as aggressive as he did. “You don’t get to apologize for something I don’t even know about.” 

Hana looked at him quizzically, her hand stalling on the doorknob. She turned her body to Megumi, finally giving her attention to his confusion. 

Megumi continued, clenching his fists. He made sure to give Hana space despite the overwhelming clouding of his mind. “What do you mean ‘where my heart resides’?”

A thought— no, a person, the same person, flickered in the back of Megumi’s mind, and he felt his jaw clench.

“I…oh, did I hear wrong?” Hana questioned, fumbling as she palmed the side of her face, lips twisting. Before she could sort out her own displacement, she caught Megumi’s widened eyes.

Removing her hand from her face, she raised an eyebrow. “Who you like…is it not Itadori?” 

…....

Megumi left without giving himself the mercy of composure. He dismissed Hana’s claims and wished her a good night before hurrying down the stairs to his car. His drive home was a blur of pale street lights and sweat collecting on his back.

She couldn’t have figured it out on her lonesome, he was certain, no matter what lies his brain tried to ease at him. The only viable truth wasn’t better for his anxieties as the revelation made his heart beat against his chest with dread.

Someone had to have told her. 

Making it to his apartment, Megumi gave himself a chance to breathe, but it felt like nothing short of suffocation. He gripped his phone tightly as he paced his living room. He’d tried sitting down, but his leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, and he could feel himself drowning in his thoughts. Trying to stop moving meant trying to stop his thoughts, and that made him feel dizzier somehow than walking in circles.

Yuji couldn’t have told Hana— they weren’t even close. Besides, if Yuji already knew, he wouldn't have said something by now.

The drifting thought circled around Megumi’s brain before finally hitting him— and for the first time in the past half hour, Megumi paused. 

Yuji would have said something, right?

A clammy hand opened the messages app. The phone’s pale light made Megumi look even more ghoulish, his face drained of any color or warmth. He stared at his and Yuji’s empty messages for the day, biting down hard on his lip. 

His own feelings being a possible explanation for Yuji’s unusual silence, Megumi couldn’t handle. He gripped his hair as he dropped his head, releasing a shuddered breath.

Leaning against the wall, a black pool of slinking shadows formed behind him. A cold he felt he wanted to drown in engulfed his back. The pounding in his head faded and with it every agonizing thought. Numbly, he felt himself sink into his shadows quicker. He shut his eyes, reaching back to grasp at the nothingness, its unmoving rigidity warm enough to be a comfort. Calming himself to a reasonable degree, and before fully sinking in, gasped and lurched forward, using force to pull himself away.  

Brushing stray strands out of his face, Megumi opened his phone again. There was one person he knew he could call to help him sort this shit. 

The first call torturously rang until he’d been sent to voicemail. Immediately, he tried again. The dialing didn’t pick up until close to its end, where there was a soft click on the other end.

“Hello?”

Megumi exhaled quiet relief, holding his phone close to his head, swallowing before opening his eyes and parting chapped lips.

“Nobara.”

“Megumi? What’s so crazy you had to call me twice? I’m in the middle of doing my nails—“

“Shut up, this is serious.”

The loud scoff from Nobara’s line meant she was going to retort in some way, but the urgency in Megumi’s voice made her hold her tongue.

“Well if it’s so important, say it already.”

Megumi growled, “Kurusu knows.” That was all he could say without feeling sick. But, given Nobara’s silence on the other end, he forced himself to elaborate. “My…feelings for Itadori. She knows somehow. I never told her, and I’m sure she never figured it out on her own.”

Nobara was deathly quiet on the other end. 

Further unnerved, Megumi felt another pit forming in his stomach: one to hollow out all ration and fill him with nerves. He bit his tongue to keep himself from spilling anything else, his now oh-so-eager anxieties dancing on his tongue, waiting to be spoken. 

Megumi’s love for Yuji was his closest-guarded secret. But, given how Nobara figured it out relatively quickly (albeit through a joke) towards the end of their first year, maybe he hadn’t been that good at hiding it. Regardless, as far as Megumi was aware, Nobara was the only one who knew about his crush, and he had reluctantly become okay with that. Until now, where the love he wanted to get its attention was being spotlighted in the worst way.

Finally, a cautious voice came through from Nobara: “She told you this?”

“Yes, obviously— I just left her place. You’re the only person who knows how I feel about Yuji,” Megumi murmured, closing his eyes. He paused, averse to accusing but eager to know. Quietly Megumi would ask. "Did you tell him?”

The silence that followed was a heavy answer, and Megumi felt so much anger he had to keep himself from hanging up. He cursed to himself.

“Nobara—“

“Megumi, I’m sorry, it was an accident. Yuji and I were at dinner the other day and it slipped out. I think he told Hana. I can’t for the life of me think of why, but it’s not like he hasn’t been more obscure these days.”

Quick words spilled past his lips harshly, “You didn’t think to tell me?”

“He told me not to mention it.” Nobara shot back, her tone striking enough to make  Megumi stop and listen. She was sincere, he knew that, and she’d never have revealed him without a better choice, he knew that, but it still hurt. Megumi bit the inner flesh of his cheek, eyes dropping. He tapped the heel of his foot before drawing a seat at his kitchen table and sitting down.

“What happened at that dinner?” Megumi mustered.

He heard the rustling of blankets on the other end as Kugisaki sighed. She spoke clearly, pausing sometimes throughout her spiel to think and properly form her thoughts.

“Everything was normal up until we finished our food. And, I should mention, I was already confused on why Yuji had invited me out for dinner and not you, too. But randomly, he goes: ‘Does Megumi have feelings for me?’

It caught me off guard, so I started rambling on and on about how there was no way you did, and asking him where that had even come from. But the entire time, Yuji kept looking at me with these sad eyes, like he knew I was lying. He didn’t stop looking like a pouty dog until my ‘maybe’ turned into a ‘yes.’ Finally he seemed satisfied with my answer, but his face just became sadder— or maybe more thoughtful? I asked him why, again, but seriously this time, and he just told me ‘I had a feeling.’ And that was it. He told me to please not tell you, and we wrapped up our dinner.” 

Nobara took a breath, exasperated. “I swore myself I would tell you when I left, but I kept thinking about how weird Yuji was and how sad he looked. It was his business, and whatever he had to say to you, I thought I’d let him reveal on his own accord.” 

Megumi’s eyes became set on the glossed tile of his table. He lowered his head, brows set furrowed on his face. 

“That’s not just his issue. It’s mine, more than his, if anything." He murmured, though there was no anger towards Nobara in his words. No, it’d since fizzled. He was thinking about Yuji's eyes now, and how iced his honey browns had to have looked to Nobara to force a confession. He wanted to see them for himself. 

“I know,” Nobara replied resolutely, her words low, solemn in a way that it struck Megumi, too. 

The question of how Yuji even figured it out fixed itself inside Megumi’s head. What slip, what mistake, could he have made to have Yuji know so resolutely? Everything was wrong and there was no one at blame except himself for having these feelings. 

Now that Yuji knew, would his eyes be cold to him, like Nobara had said? Deep like coffee grounds with never a bitterer taste? The ache in his temple made itself present again and he blinked his eyes open. 

“I need to talk to him,” Megumi blurted, “I can’t wait for whenever he does decide on saying something.”

Pulling the phone away from his head, Megumi opened messages, clicking on Yuji’s contact. He had so much he wanted to stay, yet his fingers hovered above the keyboard. 

Across the line, Nobara’s voice came through gentle, almost coddling. “Are you okay?”

Megumi froze, looking at the box of letters at the bottom of his screen. His thumb shook over the keyboard, unable to even type a character. 

He thought of what Nobara had just said, and how vehemently he hated that question. It was only ever asked when people knew you weren’t, so why bother. 

“I’m alright,” Megumi grumbled.

Even with lying through his teeth, and putting up the best poker, it didn’t mean it produced a different result if he’d said he wasn’t, because Megumi could feel Nobara’s concern already present.

“Cut the bullshit, you being this meek is offputting enough, so don’t try and say you’re not worried.” She was always this caring of him, he knew, even in her own aggressive way. The sharpness in her tone dulled and she continued, “I don’t know if it means anything to you, but I’m worried too. I haven’t seen Yuji that…somber before, and I want you two to be okay.”

A lodged breath was sharply exhaled through Megumi’s nose. Her saying that actually meant a lot to him. He shut off his phone, setting it down on the table.

Again, Nobara’s voice came through: “You’ve liked him for so long— you need to ask him how he feels. What are you so scared of?”

Megumi grimaced. “You wouldn’t get it.” 

“What? That he won’t like you back? Megumi, that’s what literally anyone who’s been stupidly smitten like you has feared. You have no clue how Yuji might feel, and either way it goes he’ll still cherish you. You know that, right?”

“It’s different, you know that.” Megumi swallowed, like speaking the words were taboo enough for all hell to reign down on them. “We’re both guys.”

“So?”

“So-“ Megumi had to sink his hands into his face to cool his aggravation. But during that time of thought, and Nobara’s incoherent talking, his actual real fears forced themself to the front of his mind. Leaning down towards his phone, he spoke clearly over Nobara. “I don't care what anyone else thinks, but I don't think Yuji…likes men.”

Nobara’s voice fell silent, the same rustling present over the line. 

“You won’t know unless you ask,” she said finally.

It would be nice, Megumi admitted. Yuji wrapping his arm around him or staring at him extensively would finally have meaning, and all the times before would finally make sense. But a fear more severe of what else could be strangled Megumi's brain. If Yuji didn’t reciprocate, then everything would change. Grazing touches would become awkward, and looking into those honey brown eyes would never be the same.

“He already knows,” Megumi murmured, “so you’re right. I've got nothing to lose. I'll ask how he feels.”

A light cheer came from Nobara as she whooped into the phone. Megumi could practically feel her smile, and as badly as he wanted to soften himself for just this moment, his fear stayed. 

A heavy buzz from his phone vibrated on the table. The flash from the notification lit the darkened room and the edges of Megumi’s face. He moved his hands from his cheeks, grabbing his phone. 

One New Notification: Messages- Yuji

He stared at the notification bar before his screen went black, his lips pressing into a fine line. Nobara’s cheering had ceased, though the silence that came after was brief.

“You there?” She asked, unkind to the breaks of quiet.

Megumi’s throat bobbed as he opened his phone again. Quietly, he said, “Yuji texted me.”

The chatter of surprise and curiosity from Nobara was tuned out as Megumi pressed on the notification, opening to the messages app. 

A single text in a gray bubble on a dark background: “Can we talk?”

Megumi reread the text a number of times, eyes carefully scanning each word. It was real, but it didn’t feel like it. Megumi knew what his answer would be, and even still it was hard to type. Eventually, his fingers managed to contact the keyboard and type a quick “Yes.” His punctuality hid how frazzled and anxious he really was. For, whatever happened next between them, and the outcome of this meeting, was solely dependent on his honey-eyed friend.

…….

The afternoon heat beat down onto Megumi’s skin. He curled his finger around the collar of his shirt, tugging on it to let in any air that could cool him off. If he didn’t go inside soon, he’d look like a sweaty mess.

With an already tight hold on his phone, he lifted his hand and checked the time: 12:01, the clock read. He was late by a minute, but he had been stupidly loitering outside for much longer. Because when he did arrive some fifteen minutes ago, he couldn’t pull open the door and start what could be the possible end. He sighed to himself, hating how his brain dramaticized the entire ordeal. Yet, how dire it was to him made the exaggeration feel real. Needed, almost. 

Yuji had been inside, Megumi knew, longer than he’d been outside himself. Yuji was punctual often, but not to the degree of arriving thirty minutes early for “a quick lunch,” as he’d put it. 

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Megumi lifted himself off of the restaurant’s wall, swinging open the door to enter. He was only going in now to keep Yuji from waiting any longer, not because he was ready— God no, he was far from it. But that didn’t matter, because he rarely got what he wanted in any case. So now he found himself standing in the busy atmosphere of a teishoku, looking around for pink hair he’d become accustomed to.

A waiter cut in front of his view, a menu folded between his arms. “Hello sir, may I find you a seat?” He greeted Megumi with a soft smile, pulling out a menu to offer to him.

Shaking his head, Megumi started looking around again. “No, I’m actually looking for—“

“He’s with me,” interrupted an assuring voice from Megumi’s right.  

Before anything, Megumi froze. His legs locked and his vision was stilled forward. For one second, he couldn’t move his body. The next, he was turning his head to the source of that voice so quickly it gave him whiplash. He knew it well. At his side was Yuji, who stood tall with a dulcet smile and a large frame. The first thing Megumi saw, the first thing he sought, were Yuji’s eyes. In the dimly lit warm restaurant, he didn’t expect them to glimmer as bright as they did in the sun. Thick pools of brown with sprinkles of gold. They looked back at him in the same way they always did: fond, loving— the same message clear every time.

An indescribable feeling only comparable to warmth started in Megumi’s chest. It crept throughout his limbs till all the other frozen parts on his body were chipped. He hadn’t realized how dearly he missed his eyes, his face. Suddenly the question of the last time they’d really been face-to-face apprehended his mind. 

“Hey.” Megumi managed to rasp, clearing his throat after hearing his own voice in his ears. He looked away to keep their eye contact from prolonging any further, and to hide the flush that had dipped the edges of his face. 

“I already have our table,” Yuji followed up, his voice still coming clear at Megumi’s side as he turned around to start walking.

Megumi awkwardly tread behind him with a hand up to his head, trying to fix his hair; suddenly sure the heat had messed it up.

Yuji stopped towards the back corner of the restaurant, sliding into the far booth facing the door. Megumi slid into the other side of the booth, setting his hands down in his lap. His eyes looked off to the window on the wall of their table. Mundane distractions kept the graveness of where he was now from setting it. 

“It’s been a while since we last ate together, huh?” Yuji began, smile audible.

Megumi’s eyes flickered to the table, a low hum his response. He couldn’t speak, sure if he did a melody of cracks would be voiced, and he wouldn’t even be able to utter a complete thought. He looked at the drink on his side of the table. A ceramic cup that sat tall with molded grooves. Inside it was green tea, he guessed, quickly taking the cup and swallowing the drink to soothe his throat. 

“I had to order drinks before you got here, so I hope the tea’s okay,” Yuji chimed. 

“It’s fine.” Megumi murmured, setting it back down on its coaster. He glanced up to look Yuji in the eyes, his stomach churning as they made contact. “Thank you,” he added briskly. 

Comfortably leaning over, Yuji rested his crossed arms on the table. “Do you remember coming to this spot weekly back at Tech?”

Megumi huffed, “And we usually sat in this corner too, didn’t we?”

“Uh-huh.”

A nostalgic smile rested on Yuji’s features as he continued with a buoyant tone, “Missions have kept me busy, so I really am sorry it took us this long for another meeting. A few weeks sure feel like a millennium.”

Megumi nodded in agreement, listening as Yuji began to reminisce on old memories. It seemed like the atmosphere had finally become welcoming enough to soothe Megumi’s worries. 

Everything was normal, and that was the problem. 

With every chuckle Yuji released and every time he started up another story, Megumi’s irritation grew an unreasonable amount. This wasn’t going anywhere. Megumi hadn’t said much despite how much he’d been thinking, assuming Yuji would be the one to start the uncomfortable conversation waiting to be addressed. But if he was adamant on chasing his own tail in circles, Megumi knew he’d have to be the one to say something. 

Yuji didn’t seem to notice, whether intentionally or not, Megumi’s reticent demeanor. He continued on aimlessly with his conversation that had long since become one-sided.

“I seriously can't forget how funny it was when we fell off the canoe when we went water rafting that one time.” Yuji laughed, “The look on your face!”

Megumi felt embarrassment tinge his face before he furrowed his brows. “Last summer’s water rafting isn’t why we’re here.”

His tone was cold. Not in the manner of his usual grumpiness, but a carry more serious with palpable weight. It was enough to grab Yuji’s attention and make him pause. His brows twitched as confusion feigned his features. But looking, really looking, into Megumi’s glare, Yuji’s smile dropped easily as a heavy air quickly fell over them.

Megumi frowned, because of course Yuji’s happy smiles and relaxed demeanor were only lies in hopes of making him feel relaxed. Yuji had gotten better at lying, at putting up facades, but he wasn’t good at it— not to a point he could fool Megumi of all people. It was almost insulting to him that Yuji thought he could trick him— that he even felt the need to to begin with instead of being honest with him. That made Megumi’s gut twist even more, and he scratched at his pant legs. 

“I know that you know,” Megumi swallowed, “so go on and say what you have to say.” He looked at Yuji with false confidence, harboring the most fear he’d felt in a while. 

Yuji straightened himself out, a light exhale blowing out his nose. “Well, I was gonna start this off softer,” he murmured, a soft pout coming onto his lips. 

“Sorry,” Megumi murmured, lacking any actual sincerity in his voice. He kept his cadence leveled, even as his heel bounced anxiously underneath the table.

Steady, Yuji began, “I don’t know how I figured it out, but I did. You being easily flustered, or your rare smiles, I didn’t think much of until I thought of how you were only like that with me. I guess you being less annoyed with your friend isn’t that big of a tell, but it had me curious either way. So I met up with Nobara and asked her.” Yuji looked off before locking eyes with Megumi’s towards the end of his confession. “And I guess you know the rest.”

A muted sigh passed through Megumi’s lips, his relief only brief. “Why tell Hana?” He asked, ignoring the ache in his body over what he really needed to know.

“I know how crazy she is over you. Thought I'd spare you and her both by telling her.” Yuji shrugged, a reaction not of laxity but nervousness.

Megumi’s nose scrunched as his body tensed. “That’s not your decision to make.”

Yuji didn’t resist his lashings, looking to Megumi with earnest eyes. “I know, I know, I’m sorry about that. I just started, I don’t know, spiraling? There was a lot running through me: excitement, nerves, worry— I didn’t know how else to manage it.”

“Excitement?” Megumi murmured, a flicker of something hitting his chest. 

Yuji and Megumi held each other’s eyes in a tender, cradling hold.

“You mean so much to me, Megumi. Everytime I’m with you I just feel happy. Hell, even looking at you can make my day better. You’re smart, cool, pretty.”

A buzz so sweet it was painful stung Megumi’s chest, and a rush of blood flushed his face. He dropped his head, hair obscuring his reddened face. The rush of compliments made his stomach flutter and his body feel numb. Yet, he kept his eyes on the table and gripped the fabric of his pants tighter. He let himself get excited knowing what would come next— the only rational thing that could: But.

“But, I…” Yuji swallowed, “I don’t think I like you how you like me.”

Megumi had braced for that word— anticipated it— yet it still shattered him as he heard it, and every word that followed. 

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.” Megumi muttered, keeping his head low because it was too daunting of a task to hold it high. He hated how much he loved Yuji. He hated how he couldn’t be normal and keep him close without feeling anything. But he also loved it, loved Yuji, at the same time, because there was no one else like him. No one else who could get him to raise his head when all he wanted to do was sink.

Emerald eyes trailed from the table up to meet honey-browns, which were already staring at him sympathetically. 

Careful words spilled from Yuji’s lips, “I don’t know if I could be a good boyfriend and give you what you need, or if I even like guys. I’m sorry if I ever led you the wrong way. I mean, if anything, you’re way too good for me." He didn’t mean any of that as a joke; it was pure sincerity, Megumi knew.

Megumi’s voice was hushed. “I know.” His brows quivered. “I didn’t expect you to.” 

He could feel his feet sink into the cold of his shadows underneath the table. It ravaged him, moving up his ankles greedily trying to swallow him whole. His jaw tightened and he managed to have his shadows slither away, leaving him alone with a feeling only he had to bear.

“I wasn’t going to bring it up or make our relationship weird by any means, I swear.” Megumi  balled his hands into fists, clenching till he drew blood.

“Megumi, it’s okay. In the years I’ve known you, I’ve only ever been comfortable. You having feelings won’t change that,” Yuji reassured, offering a smile, “we’ll be okay. I promise: everything will be the same.”

Megumi swept into a nod, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nothing would be the same because that’s how rejections and relationships worked. Only an idiot would think otherwise. 

Looking up at Yuji, Megumi feigned a gentle smile on his lips, one that hurt to form as it weakly pulled at his cheeks.

He couldn’t blame Yuji for being optimistically hopeful. He had been the same, but between the two of them, the bigger fool. 

A small part of him had hoped, had been waiting, to hear that Yuji felt the same.

…….

There was a strange peace for Megumi in the days after Yuji’s rejection. Solely because it was so easy for him to avoid his problems. Sure, he should have been thinking about his relationship with Yuji and the possible adversity to come, but in realizing he didn’t have to, there was relaxation. Yet even with the levity, Megumi’s mind stayed on Yuji, unable to help it if he tried, and he did, as in the quiet of the afternoon, he would wonder what Yuji was thinking, or what he was doing in turn of their daily talks. 

On a random, fateful Sunday, the two were paired for a mission assignment. Megumi didn’t have the luxury nor the choice of refusal, which finally gave him an obligation to see Yuji. 

The day of the mission, and even hours before, Megumi’s nerves were shot. He wanted to say his body was overacting, but in Yuji’s silence, he wasn’t sure how the latter thought of him anymore. He hadn’t messaged Yuji or made any attempts at contact in the week following their lunch, his daily good morning texts had ceased completely, and Yuji hadn't checked up on him at all. Megumi reckoned Yuji knew he wanted space, but in his asking Yuji gave him a canyon. It made him feel like he was right when he said things would change when never in his life had he wanted to be more wrong.

Their assignment was to exorcise a Grade One that had been building cursed energy around an old office building. 

Arriving first, and early, Megumi scoped out the scene of the area. Not long after he’d made it to the second floor, he’d hear footsteps making his way towards him from down the hall.

“Yo,” Yuji called, stopping a little ways behind Megumi. The latter kept his back to Yuji in a quiet shame he tried to shoulder. Yuji attempted to peek around him before lightly continuing, “Usually you wait for me outside.” 

Megumi turned to the side, giving Yuji a sideways look before twisting a doorknob to another room.

“Thought I'd examine the building first,” he murmured, walking around the room with measured steps and slant eyes. He could hear Yuji  enter behind him, and feel him come close to his side.

Megumi clenched his jaw as a quiet exempt from the groans of the building fell over them. His thoughts remained loud in his head as he had a feeling Yuji wasn’t just examining the room, but him instead. The sound of Yuji's breathing set Megumi off, and he whipped around quickly. Yuji wasn’t over his shoulder, but close to him, standing beside a window. In any case, he found Megumi's hardened eyes quickly.

“Go and check the next floor. The curse is doing a decent job at concealing their residuals so it’s better to split up and get this done faster.” Megumi grumbled, turning around to face him with a set expression. 

Without protest, Yuji nodded, quickly leaving without a word. Megumi listened as the old creaks of the wooden floor faded out of range, yet his body stayed tense. Megumi sighed at himself— Yuji finally does try and talk to him, and the first thing he does is push him away. Typical.  

Megumi would summon Totality to sniff out the curse, yet as they checked every room, it wouldn’t reveal itself. Just as Megumi was wondering if Yuji was having better luck, Totality started barking rapidly. Before it could lead Megumi to the direction of the curse, Yuji crashed through the floor, the well-hidden curse in his hold. Totality was caught on the rubble, thick smoke covering the air. Megumi coughed as he waved away the smoke’s debris, barely able to open his eyes before he saw the curse reaching for him. 

He tightly clasped his hands together, parting his lips to summon Toad when thick arms wrapped around his waist and pushed him out the way. Megumi’s head hit the floor and he grunted weakly as he tried to get up. Yuji was beside him, having knocked him out of the way of the attack. 

“I could’ve handled that,” Megumi wheezed, wobbly getting to his feet by bracing himself against the wall, already slotting his hands together for his next summon. Yuji’s hand came to Megumi’s chest, as if holding him back. Megumi gaped at him incredulously, watching Yuji look back at him with a serious face. 

“I can finish this,” He affirmed, dropping his hand from Megumi’s chest. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Megumi watched the curse slowly turn towards them, a low screeching noise coming from it. As it darted for another attack, the both of them leaped out of the way in separate directions.

“I’m fine,” Megumi called, “but you knocked me down pretty hard!” He didn’t try to hide the irritation in his voice. He wasn’t fond that the first attention Yuji had given him in a week was babying him on a mission he was more than capable of. He’d be damned if Yuji did this by himself, unsure of what he was trying to prove, or what he was trying to appeal to. 

As Megumi tried to have Totality attack the curse, Yuji drew the curse’s attention towards him. Totality barely managed to scratch it as Yuji took on the curse himself. Megumi stared, befuddled, before running up on the curse with his sword from his shadows, Totality going in from the other side.

Yuji looked towards Megumi, eyes wide, shouting, “Wait!”

Megumi’s attention darted to Yuji, the split second distraction making him miss his attack. The curse slithered away and hit Megumi from behind, sending him skidding against the floor. Yuji hurried towards Megumi, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him away from the curse. 

When Megumi managed to catch his breath, he stood and tightly grabbed Yuji by his shirt, twisting the fabric. 

“We’re in this together, aren’t we?” He blustered, his livid eyes only making Yuji’s soften.

 “Always,” Yuji huffed.

 “Then trust me!”

Megumi let go of him, a stare of understanding between them before they’d leap away from the curse’s missed attack. They both launched their assaults on the curse from different sides, with Yuji using his black flashes and Megumi holding down its wrangling limbs with Toad. 

Neither of them were coordinated, far from it, but they had the curse in a good spot to exorcise it now. It was more destructive than intelligent, Megumi watching as it flung itself out of his shikigami’s hold and evaded a punch from Yuji. From his shadows, Megumi equipped his sword again. Yuji was knocked away, landing on his feet a few meters away. Megumi ran up to the curse, grabbing its attention. As it launched towards him, Megumi sank into his shadows. Totality tore into the curse from behind, allowing Megumi to remerge and slice it through its middle. 

Purple blood spewed out of the curse’s gash as it wailed. Megumi slid away, its blood stained on his clothes and hair. He pet Totality’s head before de-spawning it. He turned to Yuji, who was already walking towards him. 

“Are you still alright?” he asked, stopping a few feet behind him.

Megumi released a huff of air before turning around swiftly, eyebrows pulled to knit on his face. Rattled, he charged, “What was that? Whatever you were trying to pull could’ve gotten either of us killed.”

Yuji didn’t say anything, but his wide eyes were enough.

A stifled scoff left Megumi as his hands balled into fists. “You being overly cautious of me isn’t having things be the same.” His voice lowered, but it kept its edge. “You promised.”

“I really don’t want things to change, but I don’t know how to act now. I don’t want to be insensitive and hurt you by acting like things are completely normal, but they still should be, right?” Yuji rambled, arms opening at his side. “Just tell me what to do— how you want me to be.”

Megumi could feel his hands starting to shake as he lowered his head.

This was all wrong.

Yuji stepped closer, eager for answers Megumi had none of. He fought to make his words stable as they left him. “I can’t tell you how to be you. That’s something only you’re good at.” He took a deep breath, lifting his head. His eyes shone with a gloss he couldn’t keep. “If it weren’t for my feelings, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“You keep acting like there’s some big problem— we’re gonna be fine.”

“Stop being dense!” Megumi raised his voice, causing Yuji to wince as his eyebrows crinkled. “You practically said it yourself— you’re walking on eggshells around me. We can’t be friends and ignore the feelings I have for you. It’s just not possible.”

“So…” Yuji shook his head. “You’re my best friend, Megumi. Please, you’re just being rash.”

“However you piece it, it’s my fault— all of it.”

Nothing ever came easy, Megumi had come to learn. The universe always had some cruel way to twist his expectations. Now, he was even struggling to keep his best friend because he loved him more than he should. 

Turning sharply for the door, Megumi left. His mind was empty as he walked down the stairs, expecting to hear eager footsteps behind him that never came. 

He left the abandoned office with a clouded mind, the weight of what he’d told Yuji sorely setting in. So many feelings ran through him it muddled into a distinct emptiness. 

Megumi’s hands were stuck to his side as he walked the sidewalk. Stopping, he turned and stared at the crosswalk sign, waiting till it turned green. When it did, he let out a shuddered breath, making his way across the thick lines broken apart on the street. 

Yuji not acting the same towards him— years of friendship cluttered into a convoluted mess— was too much to handle. A dull pain hit his temple, and he lifted his hand to hold the side of his head, groggily looking forward. 

The sound of screeching tires made Megumi lift his head. To his left, a gray car was barreling down the road, ignoring the red light.

Everything felt like slow motion. Megumi felt his eyes widen and hands instinctively intertwine to form Toad. But as he stared the car down, his mouth parted in vain as nothing left his lips. He knew he wouldn’t be able to pull himself away in time. 

There was no grand montage that flashed before him in the second before his death. Instead, taking up the picture in his brain was Yuji Itadori, the one person who never seemed to leave his mind. It was a somewhat recent memory, at least one before everything went to shit. It had just been the two of them together, and Yuji smiled at him widely in the beaming way he always did. 

As Megumi felt his face soften, firm arms wrapped around his waist, hastily pulling him back before a nearly-collision with the car. The gray vehicle put on its breaks, skidding to the side, stopping a little ways down the road.

It took a few seconds for Megumi to process that he was safe. He was on the pavement, on the ground, with someone’s arms around him tightly. Blinking the haze out of his eyes, he realized he could hardly breathe, entering a coughing fit. Swallowing to allay his throat, he looked over his shoulder to see pink hair tickling his neck, their face buried into his shoulder.

“Yuji..?” Megumi managed, coughing again. He tried, and failed, to get out of Yuji’s shaking hold.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Yuji sputtered, raising his head. Tears brimmed the waterline of his eyes as his hands grasped at Megumi’s sides.

The look of distress on Yuji’s face struck Megumi at his heart and he felt his jaw tighten. “I wasn’t,” he murmured, shock holding his tongue. 

He hadn’t seen, or heard Yuji that desperate in a long time. His brows pulled together as he exhaled shakily. Limply, he held Yuji, too, his hands coming to grasp the back of his shirt. 

“I can’t do this without you, Megumi,” Yuji rasped into his shoulder. “How could you be so careless?"

Weak to Yuji’s scolding, Megumi held onto him tighter to keep him from trembling. 

“I won’t leave you. Not ever,” Megumi said softly, closing his eyes. Oddly enough, after nearly facing death and being in Yuji’s comfort, things felt normal again.

There would always be a need and a love for each other, Megumi realized, and the proof was here: in them holding each other tightly in their arms, too scared to let go. As long as time allowed them, they would stay together, unable to be apart, for loneliness only ever came in the other's absence.