Megumi shakes his head at the same time Kon does, water splattering across the bathroom mirror from both black fur and black hair. Grinning, he bends down to towel off the rest of his dog's damp fur, before pulling on his own clothes. Nobara continues to pound brutally on the door, screeching at him to get out. Turning his music up, he lets his shared playlist with Yuuji drown her out. "Get the hell out of there, Fushiguro!"
Humming along, he swipes onto his phone to check the time. "I've still got seven minutes of bathroom time," he shouts back, grinning to himself when he hears Nobara swearing under her breath, followed by the familiar sounds of her stomping her boots against the bottom of the door like she might try and kick it down. His smile falls into a sigh when he clicks onto his texts to see that Yuuji hasn't responded yet. He's probably just too busy to respond or something, but Megumi can't help the feeling unfurling in his stomach. Yuuji's never too busy to respond to him.
Clicking his tongue, he continues drying his hair as he scolds himself. Kon's acting irritable, scratching and pawing at the tiled floor, and Megumi is once again reminded how embarrassing it is to have a Technique that mimics his own emotions. As he lets Kon go, bounding back into the shadows, he tries to pull himself together.
He's being crazy. Probably being crazy. Yuuji has a totally separate, normal life that doesn't revolve around his boyfriend. He's probably busy getting ready for class. He'll see him tonight like he normally does. While he's considering whether or not he'll look like a jealous, insane boyfriend if he double texts, the door splinters everywhere, before the wreck of it collapses onto the tiles.
"You're fucking crazy," Megumi hisses as he turns to see Nobara standing where the door previously was, hammer twirling around her fingers. She pauses to flick the middle one in his direction, before delicately stepping over the mess of wood. Her pyjama trousers drag along the splinters, considering that they're way too big on her, considering that they're his pyjama trousers that she stole. "I still have five minutes," Megumi points out, unable to stop himself.
"Bathroom time doesn't count when you're using it to be a freak," she rolls her eyes, sharply elbowing him out of the way to rifle through the drawers. The drawers which are stuffed full of her stupidly expensive makeup and toiletries, even though half of the space is supposed to be Megumi's. Her hammer drops onto the counter with a thud, exchanged for multiple brushes.
"I'm not being a freak," he argues, even as he glances at his phone. He was kind of being a freak.
"You've been checking your phone all morning. You're genuinely such a loser, have I told you that before?" she asks sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him in the mirror's reflection.
"Twice today, and it's only eight in the morning," Megumi nods, before tossing his wet towel over her head. She screams in irritation, brushes clattering to the floor as her hammer swings easily back into her palm. He rolls his eyes, hands flaying out like second nature as the early morning shadows start to pool together to let Toad appear, landing right in the shower with an indignant squawk.
"Get that thing out of here!" Nobara yells, disgust painted across her face as Toad's tongue slips from his mouth, blinking sleepily up at Nobara. She angrily yanks her headband from her bands and tosses it at frog with a screech. As much as she is revolted by Toad, it's kind of comforting to know she won't take her nails and smack them straight through his poor shikigami's head. "Fushiguro, get rid of it!"
He's suddenly caught off guard by a memory of chasing Tsumiki around their old apartment with a spider cradled in his palms, giggling and screeching that he was going to throw it on her head, and it was going to lay eggs in her hair. He'd only stopped because Gojo and Nanami had shown up, the former pissing himself laughing as the latter yanked the eight-year-old Megumi off of the floor by his collar and told him sternly to let the spider go outside. Tsumiki had refused to speak to him for a whole week after that. He hadn't even apologised to her; she'd just ended up caving in and woke him up with a smile and a plate of pancakes one morning.
Struck with horror, Megumi leans back in the doorframe, water sliding down his neck and dripping down his bare back. He'd always seen it as caving in, as giving up, the way Tsumiki would eventually move on from grievances. Had seen it as pathetic, the fact that she couldn't stand up to him. How was she supposed to do anything, if she couldn't even stand up to her younger brother?
He hadn't ever stopped to consider that she wasn't surrendering. It had been an active choice. She had chosen kindness, and she had chosen it every time. Even if it took her a week or two sometimes, she always ended up choosing to be forgiving, over resentful. She picked it every time, with a smile kissing her lips and painting her brown eyes and tugging at the dimples nicked into her cheeks. Tsumiki always gave it to Megumi freely, her love pressed into every hug, or each time she swiped her fingers through his hair or every time she patiently waited at the front door for him to tie his shoes.
Toad disappears as soon as he clicks his fingers, and Nobara lets out a sigh of relief. "Fuck's sake," she spits out on a heavy exhale, spinning on her heels to pin a look of irritation on Megumi, but faltering when her eyes meet his. "You're an asshole," she says anyway, as he pushes himself off of the doorway, heart feeling heavy in his own chest.
"Whatever," he murmurs as he snatches up his phone, face twisting at the lack of response.
"He'll answer," Nobara's voice hums from his side, considerably softer as she slides in beside him. They stand, shoulders pressing against each other's, in front of the sink. Megumi stares at his own reflection as Nobara leans down, splashing cold water across her face. His eyes dart across to her when she straightens up, and they lock eyes in the mirror.
"He'll answer," she repeats, voice firmer even as she sighs like Megumi's being an idiot. "He always answers." He can't help the smile that dances across his face, head dropping as his eyes fall away from the mirror.
Nobara presses on anyway, arm bumping against his, "You ask, he answers. It's just how you two seem to work. So, stop looking like you're going to piss yourself because your boyfriend hasn't answered at eight in the fucking morning, kay?" And before he can say anything in response, Nobara is grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him out of the room. "Your bathroom time's up, Gumi-chan," she smirks, turning away from him as she proceeds to unbraid her hair in front of the mirror.
He hesitates for a moment, before padding down the hall in his bare feet, chuckling when Kon appears from the shadows dancing across the floor. Fingers buried in warm fur; he scratches the hound's head as they walk through the dorm together. They take the morning on together, trying to revel in the lazy Friday drag instead of give into the itchy feeling peeling across his skin.
Kon flies onto his neatly made bed as soon as they cross into his dorm room, chin dropped sleepily onto his paws as he watches Megumi through hooded eyes. Humming to himself, he pulls his headphones on before he does anything else, a hum of amusement leaving his lips as some pop song starts up. A while ago, he'd be disgusted at himself for knowing the words to a song like this, but now all he seems to care about is the face-splitting grin Yuuji always wears on his face as he grabs Megumi's hands and tries to force him to learn viral dances with him.
"But I guess I'm obsessed with you," he sings softly, voice scratching against his own throat. Kon lifts his head up as Megumi drops down to a crouch in front of the dog, singing along to his own personal audience of one. Head bopping to the side to the beat, Megumi rifles through his drawers until he finds an outfit appropriate for training with Yuta.
"Don't let me forget," he tells Kon as he runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to brush it, wincing when it sticks up straight away anyway. Because he doesn't trust his shikigami to remind him about training (since Kon is an incarnation of himself and his own forgetfulness), he goes to set a reminder on his phone when he sees Yuuji's response. It isn't an answer to his question at all, his boyfriend electing to send a selfie instead.
Awfully messy pink hair, eyes outlined with sleep crust, brown eyes drowsy and Yuuji's still the best-looking person Megumi's ever seen. Twirling the phone around, he lets Kon blink at it as he mutters, "He's lucky he's pretty, the dumbass." Sending Yuuji a response before he screenshots the selfie, Megumi realises his cheeks are aching from the wide smile pulling at his face. Catching himself, he slides his phone back into his pocket, and snatches up his laptop from his desk before gesturing with his head for Kon to follow after him.
The library is empty, as it has been every single day that Megumi has been enrolled at this school. He doesn't understand why they even have a library, given that Jujutsu sorcerers don't seem to appreciate their use. The only time he's ever run into his fellow students here is when Hakari and Kirara get bored of making out in their own dorm, or when Panda and Inumaki are hiding from Maki. He rapes his knuckles against the decades old poster pasted on the door, Kon huffing at the no cursed spirits (even those resembling animals – mythical or not) message sandwiched in between the no smoking and no eating sign.
"That's not talking about us. You're not a cursed spirit," Megumi shrugs as he shoulders open the door, Kon bounding through his legs, tail wagging cheerfully. He actually has no idea who the poster is talking about, especially since he doubts anyone has ever really used the library, but he chooses to ignore it as he follows Kon to their favourite seat, a table looking out across the city of Tokyo below the mountain the school's built upon.
He had come to the library in an attempt to get ahead of his coursework, figuring that he might as well try and start on the essay Kusakabe had set him and Nobara on Shintoism and its influence on Jujutsu society. This turns out to be mind-numbingly boring, and without the pressure of a tight deadline, Megumi can't bring himself to even start on an essay plan. As he rakes his fingers through Kon's fur, the hound leaning his head happily on Megumi's knee, he finds himself scrolling through useless websites, before he's scrolling through his own boyfriend's Instagram and screenshotting each picture, before he finds himself blinking at UTokyo's website.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he leans forward, head cradled in one hand, the other opening an atrocious number of tabs detailing an atrocious number of undergraduate courses. Kon sniffles as he looks up at the laptop too, and the two of them find themselves blinking at the campus tour page, Megumi's mouth dry. "What am I doing?" he murmurs as he drops back into his chair, wiping his hands down his face.
Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms, he groans. "Would it be so bad?" he asks the empty room as his hands fall away from his face. Kon grumbles in response, and Megumi stares at the pictures of students not that much older than him, standing around generic campuses and smiling awkwardly. "That could be me," he lets himself whisper. "Right?" he asks Kon. "Why couldn't that be me?"
Why can't he be the student dragged into the uncomfortable university advertisement, plastering a smile across his face and wearing a too thick UTokyo sweater? That could totally be him. He can see it all, as he sits there in the abandoned library, imagining himself somewhere else, somewhere better. A school that stands freely, instead of one crumbling under eons of generational pressure. A library that is lived in, with the soft tapping of keyboards sounding like rain against a window, and pens scratching across paper.
If he got out, he wouldn't have to worry about anything too heavy for his heart. He could fill his head with exam preparation and regular adolescent existentialism. If he got out, he wouldn't have to worry about Yuuji getting sucked in. If he got out, he wouldn't have to worry about the rope that's stitched across his boyfriend's throat.
The week after Yuuji had found out about Jujutsu, he'd asked Megumi what happened when people discovered Jujutsu. "Is it like in Twilight?" he'd murmured against Megumi's neck, teeth scratching lightly against his freckles.
"Hm?" he'd just replied, quickly getting very used to the fact that his boyfriend's pillow talk was some of the oddest shit he'd ever heard spoken out loud. He kind of just ignored it, refusing to let himself get dragged into arguments about loving worms or who they'd be in various animes.
"Am I going to get killed if they find out I know about you? About Jujutsu?"
Megumi had frozen, hands stilling in Yuuji's hair as he pulled back and pinned the other boy down with a look of horror. "Why would you think that?" he asked, praying that his face isn't giving it away. It being that the Higher Ups will totally kill him if they find out.
"Because it's what happens in like every film ever made," Yuuji said, as if Megumi was the one being a moron. "It happens in Twilight."
"So, you've said," Megumi huffed, tightening his grip in pink hair. "I've never seen it. Looks shit." Yuuji chuckled fondly, before he dipped down to nip at Megumi's neck again, and he couldn't help but deflate in relief. Crisis averted; he'd thought. He'd successfully avoided the conversation of his boyfriend's impending doom – a conversation Megumi refused to even have with himself less he imploded.
"So, what happens then?" Yuuji asked again anyway, and Megumi paused.
"They're not gonna find out."
"What happens, Megumi?"
"They're not gonna find out, okay? They're not going to find out. Gojo won't let them. I won't let them."
He doubts that the Higher Ups will find out if Megumi just blows this godforsaken shithole, slipping into Yuuji's life without a glance back. They'd probably let him go easily. It would be the Zenins he'd have to worry about. Would he be able to stop them if they came after him and Yuuji again? He's got a pretty bad track record with that, to be honest. Got a pretty bad track record with most things.
"What am I even doing? There's no way I could…there's no way," he murmurs softly, stomach churning as he scrolls further down the page, cursor hovering over the reserve a tour button.
"Hi!"
The new voice scares the shit out of him, and he instinctively closes the page, head snapping to the side to lock onto Yuta. He deflates at the sight of the older boy, heart thudding pathetically in his chest. "Shit," he breathes, shaking his head apologetically as Yuta slides into the chair beside him, cooing at Kon with a smile on his face. "Sorry, Okkotsu-senpai, I wasn't looking at the time and forgot to set a reminder for-"
"It's fine," Yuta laughs good-naturedly, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "Don't rush! Finish whatever it is you're doing, Fushiguro-kun. We can push training back until you're done."
"I don't want to waste your time," Megumi murmurs awkwardly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he resolutely refuses to look at his guilty laptop.
"Please," Yuta snorts with amusement. "All I've got since moving back to Jujutsu Tech is time on my hands. I forgot that all the teachers here operate on their own kind of schedules."
"Miguel kept you on a pretty strict regime, huh?" Megumi asks, working his lip through his bottom teeth. He only feels slightly guilty about not staying in contact with Yuta while he was 'studying abroad' in Kenya. First of all, he's godawful at texting at the best of times, and that isn't when he's got shit on his plate. Secondly, he's pretty sure his own friends probably kept him up to date with everything, as well as blew up his phone every chance they got.
"Yeah, Jesus," Yuta grins. "He had me waking up at five am every morning. Said stronger sorcerers than himself had taught him the importance of structure and routine." Megumi looks away at that, knowing exactly what strong sorcerer Miguel is talking about. Yuta might too, but he's smiling anyway, as if Geto Suguru didn't try to ruin his life and slaughter his friends. He can't imagine it, and it seems silly to even try to picture the genocidal maniac having a strict routine. Waking up early in the morning to go about bringing around the world's end. It seems even sillier to imagine it because Geto was Gojo's ex, and he has no idea how a regimented person could have stood for Gojo's complete and utter disregard for anything resembling structure.
"I suppose there's truth to that," Megumi says anyway, because he knows Yuta doesn't like talking about Geto. None of that group does, traumatised from the nightmarish event. Megumi doesn't understand how Gojo can try and claim love for the man who did that to his students, but he's pretty settled on knowing he won't ever really understand Gojo Satoru. He's pretty sure it's impossible and trying to solve it would probably drive him clinically insane.
"So," Yuta hums. "What is it that kept you so distracted?" Megumi considers shrugging it off, but Yuta is already leaning in to see, never one for considering personal space or privacy, and Megumi figures if anyone might understand, it would be Yuta. Gritting his teeth, he slides the laptop around to show his senpai the traitorous page. "Woah," Yuta gasps softly, genuine shock painting his face as his eyes slide from the screen to meet Megumi's eyes. "University?"
"Don't tell Gojo," he pleads pathetically, feeling his heart twist up painfully.
"Of course I won't," Yuta responds instantly, voice kind and gentle. He's different than how he used to be, but that's stuck. Megumi thought he'd done a lot of growing in the past year, but he can't help but wilt under the comparison of his classmates. Yuta had left a child, and he has somehow returned a man. Megumi had thought they'd all had more time than this. He doesn't feel like a man, not like Yuta or Hakari or Inumaki. But he doesn't feel like a child anymore either, not like the new first year. More like a botched creature, flailing and caught between what he desperately wants, and what he has.
"It's not even-" he tries to explain, cutting off his own words as he feels himself shrivelling up. "It was just a thought," he shrugs, and he goes to shut the laptop when Yuta tugs it closer, peering at the screen. "Veterinary science?" he asks, smiling in amusement at the entry requirements page.
"Yeah," Megumi finds himself nodding. "Maybe. Or law," he admits, voice hushed like a sinner kneeling at confession.
"Law?" Yuta repeats in confusion, looking at Megumi with furrowed brows. "But Jujutsu society doesn't follow the Japanese legal system. Civil law doesn't-"
"I don't-" he starts angrily, before exhaling heavily through his nose. "I'm not deciding my degree on what Jujutsu society values," he explains, forcing his voice to stay calm as he lightly shuts over the laptop, daydream vanishing in the harsh light of the day. "Especially considering I personally don't value Jujutsu society at all," he tacks on bitterly.
"Deciding?" Yuta echoes. "So you do want to do this?"
"Don't you ever think about it?"
"Sure. I think about it. I used to think about it a lot more, I suppose," Yuta shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. "When I was a first year. But now…this is what I'm meant to be doing, I know that now."
"What about what you want?" Megumi asks, and he can't bear the desperation he can hear in his own voice. Yuta doesn't hesitate, shrugging as if he knows it isn't what Megumi wants to hear, before he says simply, "This is what I want."
A moment passes, and before Yuta can say anything else, Megumi is standing up, laptop under his arm as he says firmly, "We should train. We don't have much time before the match."
Yuta follows his lead, silence companionable and understanding as he nods, bangs falling in front of his face. Megumi's missed having one friend who actually listens to him, and doesn't get off on prodding and needling him till he snaps. Still, he can't help feel a bit nauseous as him and Kon walk with Yuta to the sparring field, the older boy's shocked expression tattooed into his brain. Is it really that surprising, that he might want more than all this? That he might want something better than all of this, like Yuuji had begged him to choose?
Maybe it doesn't matter what he wants. Maybe none of that's made for him. Maybe he's not made for any of it. Too sharp for the silk that embroiders Yuuji's life. Too soft for the shrapnel that carves through Jujutsu. Mismatched and malformed, stumbling along the line between one life and the other with heavy, outgrown arms. He's stuck.
As soon as he steps foot in the field, he pushes it from his mind, focusing on the task at hand. The fresh air helps, and he inhales and exhales slowly. He easily vaults over the wooden fence cornering off the pit, kicking off his sneakers and placing them neatly out of the way. Frowning, he looks up when he realises Yuta hasn't joined him, the older boy stalking towards the opposite side of the field towards the bushes.
"Okkotsu-senpai?" he calls out, only to bite his tongue when Rika appears behind Yuta, hissing and snarling like she normally does. He swallows around the lump in his throat at the sight, instinctively bending down to scratch behind Kon's ear. While he'd never say it out loud, especially not to Yuta, he's relieved none of his shikigami take on the appearance of a monstrous, leering ex-girlfriend. As Rika leans forward to snatch Panda and Inumaki out from behind the bushes though, neither boy seems as repulsed as Megumi feels.
"Come on Yuta," Panda groans as Rika drops them back onto the ground before floating over to twist herself around Yuta. "We just want to watch you guys train."
"No," Yuta shakes his head firmly. "Leave now. I'll see you both later."
"But it's so unfair," Panda whines. "You can't gatekeep all the cool shit, okay? We heard you guys blew up the gym last weekend." Megumi blushes at that, staring down as he nudges his toes into the sand. They hadn't meant to cause that much damage, but Yaga had still been pretty pissed off. He'd wanted to call the entire thing off, arguing that Megumi wasn't old enough to attempt his next exorcism ritual. Gojo'd had to come in and save the entire thing, as he normally did.
"It's dangerous," Yaga had sighed, looking older than he ever has. "What if something happens to you, Fushiguro-kun?"
"Nothing's going to happen to him," Gojo had argued back, Megumi sitting in the chair beside Yuta silently. "That's why he's training as well as he can with Yuta-kun before attempting the ritual. He's not going to do it before he's ready."
"And how many more destroyed buildings is it going to take before he is ready?" Yaga had frowned.
"As many as it takes," Gojo shrugged easily. "That is the cost of creating strong sorcerers. Maybe you should take the budgeting issue up with the Higher Ups, and not with Megumi."
"I am not trying…" Yaga had cut himself off with a sigh, before turning to Megumi with a soft, sad smile. "Fushiguro-kun, I am not blaming you for anything. I am just worried for your wellbeing. There is no rush or pressure for you to collect your next shikigami now. Most of the Ten Shadow sorcerers never even successfully managed to exorcise more than eight of the shikigami before they died. You are only seventeen."
Megumi had wanted to tell Yaga that he had no intention of continuing to collect more shikigami after graduating, but Gojo was right there, stood by the door practically vibrating with irritation. "I want to," was all he'd said.
And it's not like he doesn't not want to.
"You are being disrespectful to Fushiguro-kun," Yuta chides Inumaki and Panda, ignoring their grumblings to wack them both over their heads. "Get lost."
"Whatever," Panda huffs, Inumaki sticking out his tongue in retaliation. "You better explode something with us next time." And with that, they're picking their way back towards the school building, no doubt to spy from a window. Yuta makes his way towards Megumi, apologising for his friends even as Megumi tries to wave it off.
He watches as Yuta carefully unties his own shoes, before stepping gracefully into the pit. Then all hell breaks loose, and he's immensely grateful that his senpais aren't here to watch him get his ass handed to him.
By the end of it, Megumi is dripping with sweat, clothes feeling like a second skin. His fingers are trembling from the quick movements he was pulling, and he swears his pinkie must be broken. Fuck, how embarrassing. He lets out a heave when Yuta finally places his bo staff against the fence, a mix of relief and intense pain. "That was good!" Yuta says, and the genuine enthusiasm makes Megumi laugh – because he's pretty sure he wouldn't be feeling like this if that session had been good. This however causes the agony in his chest to triple, and he lets out a groan of pain before his legs give in and he slumps to the ground.
"You're alright," Yuta says, voice as gentle as his hands as he manoeuvres Megumi onto his back, trying to unfurl him from the position he'd curled up into when hitting the sand. "I've got you," he tells him as his hands press brutally against his chest. Megumi goes to bark out in protest, before a cool feeling is washing over him. Starting from under Yuta's hands, it pools over his entire torso, seeping into his skin and cooling down his own boiling blood. In comparison to Shoko's Reversed Cursed Technique, which makes him feel all gloopy and burning bright, like he's a smashed plate being hot glued back together, Megumi never wants Yuta to take his hands off of him.
"Fuck," Megumi wheezes out, eyes fluttering shut as a smile tugs on his lips. "Wish I could do that." He cracks open one eye when Yuta chuckles, hands moving to graze over his other miscellaneous injuries after healing his ribs. "I wonder," the older boy hums, ring finger tapping against Megumi's side, where the bo staff had repeatedly wacked him hard enough to break skin. He watches as it knits itself together under Yuta's tanned, calloused palm, an invisible stitch being threaded through his own body.
"Wonder what?" Megumi asks when he's able to pull himself back into a seated position, rolling his shoulders back.
"It might be nothing," Yuta shrugs, his dark eyes concentrated on his own hands. "I'll look more into it first, but I might've just figured out how we can start to properly prepare for your exorcism."
"That wasn't us properly preparing?" Megumi scoffs, because although he feels fine now, Reversed Cursed Energy can't ever fully rid the brutal ache still thudding around his body after getting injured. And he really feels the ache after sparring with Yuta. Absent-mindedly, he wishes that the shikigami he's training to exorcise was some sort of animal that possesses a Technique closer to Nobara's than Yuta's.
"Well, I do think you'll probably be ready soon," Yuta says with an easy smile. "There's just something I'd like to try before I recommend the exorcism to Yaga. I'll talk to Gojo-sensei about it. It probably won't work," Yuta shrugs, because he's constantly cutting himself down like that, as long as Megumi's known him.
"Good luck tracking Gojo down, let alone speaking with him," Megumi huffs, letting Yuta haul him back up to his feet before he brushes himself down. "He's been busy." Busy is probably a massive understatement, considering Gojo's taken it upon himself to act as an intermediary for the Zenin Kamo conflict that's been brewing since the temperature started to drop. Megumi has no idea why Gojo's got himself involved, but the older man easily slides his way out of talking about it, layering jokes on top of irony until everything gets lost in the unfunny gag that is Gojo Satoru's life.
"I heard a bit about that," Yuta admits sheepishly. Knowing Maki, Yuta probably knows a whole lot more than a little bit, considering she can't keep her mouth shut at the best of times around him, and she'll run her mouth off talking shit on the clans. "Gojo-sensei is probably the best person to solve it," Yuta says, smile wide and eyes twinkling. He always gets like that when he talks about Gojo. So do the other students, but to a lesser extent. It used to freak Megumi out.
Cruel jealousy would scratch its way up his throat whenever anyone else talked about Gojo like they knew him. To Hakari and Kirara, he's the teacher who overlooks their gambling addictions and the smell of weed covered by rose-scented perfume in favour of really listening to them when they speak and helping them actually become stronger. To Maki, he's her safeguard from the Zenins. To Inumaki and Panda, he's the teacher who gave them second chances on the essays they never turned in and the guy who comes back from abroad with gifts laden in his arms
To Yuta, Gojo's his saviour. Before Kugisaki, Yuta was the only student dragged into Jujutsu society from his old life. Unlike the rest of them, Yuta wasn't brought up worshipping Gojo Satoru. He chose to. Gojo liberated Yuta, and in turn, Yuta regards and reveres and respects him. He chose to worship Gojo Satoru.
It always made Megumi feel like his silent adoration for the man paled in comparison.
Now, not as much. Because none of them know that Gojo's favourite flavour of ice cream is strawberry, and none of them have sat up on Gojo's couch until four am watching shitty reality TV with the guy, watching Gojo throw popcorn at the screen. None of them sit in the hospital aside Gojo, bouquet in his hands, and none of them know Gojo like he does.
It's enough now.
"Sure," Megumi rolls his eyes all the same. "When has Gojo ever solved an issue without creating ten more in its stead?"
"I'm sure he'll figure it out," Yuta frowns slightly, never one to partake in slandering his fellow sorcerers, even if the Gojo slander from the students is normally 100% deserved. "We shouldn't worry about it."
And look, Megumi has an abundance of things that he worries about. He has oceans full of shit he worries about. This is not one of those things. "I'm not worried," he scoffs. "The Zenins and the Kamos can kill themselves off for all I care. Honestly, that would solve a lot of my issues." Frowning, he goes to grab his stuff from the side as he checks the time. "I gotta shower before the game," he tells Yuta. "Thanks again for training with me."
"Fushiguro-kun!" Yuta calls after him before he can leave. "Can I just…" he cuts himself off with a grimace, and Megumi resists the urge to sprint for it, because he can tell when an awkward heart-to-heart is emerging. "I just want to say something."
"Okay?" he shrugs, shrugging his bag further over his shoulder.
"Just because this is what I want, doesn't mean it's what you have to want too, alright? Just because this is…we all make Jujutsu seem like everything, but it doesn't have to be. Not for everyone. I think you'd be a great lawyer. Or a vet. Or whatever it is you want to do."
A moment of silence passes over them before Megumi nods, trying his best to smile as he says, "Thanks, Okkotsu-senpai."
The words ring in his head as he gets ready. Keep ringing until someone stands in the doorway to his room, brown eyes meet his, and a warm hand finds its way into his. "Hey," Yuuji says with a boyish, toothy smile and the ringing in his head stops. Maybe that's a sign, he thinks to himself.
"Hey," Megumi murmurs back, lightly pulling on their intertwined hands to tug Yuuji closer to him. The other boy follows easily, shoulders bumping together. "How was class?" he asks, eyes raking over Yuuji and mouth going kind of dry at the sight of him in a backwards baseball cap, pink curls sticking out over his ears.
"It was whatever," he shrugs.
"How was the physics test?" Megumi presses, because he knows Yuuji was nervous about it. He never said, but it was obvious in the way he would erratically tap his pen against the textbook, pushing so hard that the nib stabbed its way through the pages.
"Went the same as tests always seem to go for me," he says, and it's not a snap, because Yuuji doesn't snap, but it's pretty close. Before Megumi can push further, heart clenching at the look in Yuuji's face, the other boy is speaking. "Look, Megs, can we talk? Before the game?" he asks, voice wobbling. Megumi nods, before his hand is falling from Yuuji's to palm at his neck. "Sure," he says with what he hopes is a comforting smile. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Yuuji nods, placing his hand over Megumi's, and the tense look on his face is fading quickly. "Yeah, everything's good. Don't worry. I just want to-"
He's cut off by Nobara poking her head into his room, all dressed up in her personalised baseball uniform. Bejewelled with pink beads, her own family name painted neatly on the back. Megumi doesn't even want to know how much Gojo spent on that. "Hey losers!" she grins, practically vibrating with excitement because there's not that much more Nobara loves than whacking a baseball with a bat as hard as she can. "We're starting, come on!"
Yuuji makes a sound of protest. "Me and Megumi were just gonna-"
"Yeah, fat chance of that, Ita-chan," she snorts. "You two can get up to all that in your own time, but not on my time. Not on the time of the monthly baseball game. Have some respect and keep your hands to yourself."
"Kugisaki!" Yuuji cries out, face blushing crimson. "It's not like that!"
"I bet," she grimaces.
"Eat shit, Nobara," Megumi rolls his eyes as he stands up, fingers leaving Yuuji's as he walks over to flick her in the temple. "We can talk after, right?" he says over his shoulder to Yuuji, who seems to be stuck in place on Megumi's bed. "When it's just us?"
"Sure," Yuuji nods, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Okay."
He doesn't speak much as the three of them make their way to the field, listening to Nobara and Megumi bitch and moan about Kusakabe, Nobara lamenting the loss of Gojo as her teacher. "It's just so unfair. He just makes us do textbook work. It's 2019, why are we using textbooks?"
"I didn't think sorcerers would use textbooks," Yuuji adds with a hum of amusement as they reach the rest of the students. That's the first time Yuuji's actually said sorcerers instead of wizards. "They don't," Nobara sighs heavily. "Kusakabe is just a lazy bastard."
"You shouldn't talk about your seniors that way, Kugisaki-kun," Yuta says as they join the circle of students waving baseball bats around in the air. Nobara doesn't respond to Yuta, and Megumi's pretty sure it's because Maki had to tell her that if she didn't have anything nice to say to her senpai, she should keep her mouth shut. Now Nobara's caught between her default state (making fun of people (especially guys) that she doesn't respect or appreciate being close to Maki) and her obsessive urge to impress Maki.
"Who're we waiting for?" Megumi asks, squinting from the bright, Winter sun. He doesn't say anything when he feels a hat being pressed onto his own head, fondly flicking Yuuji in the side as the other boy shakes out his own hat-hair.
"Tuna mayo," Inumaki deadpans, which roughly translates to guess who? The same assholes who make us wait every time. "Hakari and Kirara," Nobara scowls, because Maki hasn't told her to not leave those two alone, so they're free rein. Megumi turns to Yuuji as Nobara goes off on a spiel about how Hakari stole her dorayaki she was saving, because he's already heard this oral essay too many times to count – especially considering he knows it was Inumaki and Panda that took it from the second-year fridge but refuses to get in between it all.
Brown eyes are caught on the sidelines of the pitch, to where Gojo and Kusakabe are talking. "They're arguing," Yuuji says as Megumi drops his chin on the shorter boy's head, nose buried between soft hair that smells like the menthol shampoo Yuuji uses for some insane reason. He won't admit it to Yuuji, but the smell's kind of growing on him. But maybe that's just because it's Yuuji, and Megumi's obsessed with everything about him. From his menthol shampoo to the watermelon chewing gum he always tastes like to his strong calves to the line of freckles speckled across his shoulder blades.
"They're always arguing," Megumi hums, distracted by trying to fix Yuuji's collar, getting transfixed by the pale strip of skin at the base of his neck. "Kusakabe kind of hates Gojo."
"I wonder what that's about," Maki says as she comes up beside them, bat resting on her shoulder like it's her staff and she's waiting to beat someone's head in with it.
"Huh?" Yuuji questions, moving so frantically to look at Maki that Megumi almost gets whiplash. "They're pointing at you," Maki shrugs, and sure enough when Megumi glances up at the two teachers, Kusakabe's finger is directed right at Yuuji, stood in front of Megumi.
"What?" Yuuji squeaks out, back as straight as a rod as he tries to step backwards, which leads to him stamping on Megumi's foot. He barks out in surprise more than pain, but unnecessary apologies are already falling from Yuuji's mouth quicker than he can breathe.
Before Megumi can try and tell Yuuji's it's fine, Yaga is storming across the field, loud voice booming. "Gojo!" he yells, and Megumi watches as Gojo pinches the bridge of his nose. "You moron! Get your stupid ass into my office right now!"
"What the fuck is happening?" Panda asks as all of them stand there, attention flying from the furious Yaga, to Gojo looking like he's weighing up whether he should just teleport away there and then, and Kusakabe who's smirking with his hands on his hips. "At least someone's going to try and fix this mess that you've made of my new students."
"Is he talking about you and Kugisaki-kun?" Yuta whispers to Megumi, his quiet voice reflecting the confusion falling over all of the students.
"Sorry Yaga!" Gojo yells back, staying right where he is. "I'm playing baseball with the students so-"
"You are gravely mistaken if you think you are able to mess around with my school like this, Satoru," Yaga hollers, and there's a collective oooh at the use of Gojo's given name, all the students grinning at seeing their teacher get scolded.
"What the hell is he talking about?" Nobara demands, and Megumi just shrugs. It's not like this is a rare occurrence. "Gojo probably just wasted the school's budget again," he guesses. They watch as Yaga starts walking faster over to Gojo, which makes the man run closer to the students, as if they might be the ones to protect him from the headteacher's wrath.
"Itadori-kun, are you alright?" Yuta asks. "You look a little pale." Megumi turns to see Yuuji turning an awful shade of white.
"Yuuji-kun," Gojo warns for some reason as he reaches the students, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Gojo!" Yaga yells before Megumi can try and ask Yuuji what's wrong or tell Gojo to leave his boyfriend alone. "You have ten minutes to fix this problem before I suspend you!"
"I'm a teacher now, Yaga," Gojo hisses. "You can't suspend me anymore."
"Fire you then, idiot!"
"Megumi, I swear I wanted to talk to you first." He looks back down at his boyfriend, brows furrowed with confusion. "I didn't know he'd enrol me without asking!"
"Enrol you in what?" Megumi asks, not able to follow what's going on at all anymore. Is this why Yuuji was acting weird earlier? But why would Gojo have anything to with that? Why would Gojo and Yuuji have anything to do with each other at all? "What're you talking about, Yuu?"
"You cannot spend 90% of the school's budget on a field trip to America!" Yaga is still yelling at Gojo in the background, but his voice, along with everything else, is fading into nothingness as Yuuji stares up at him with widening eyes. "That has no educational value whatsoever!"
"Enrol me here," he gasps out, like he's struggling to breathe a bit. Megumi doesn't even think he's breathing anymore either. Thinks maybe he's died. "At Jujutsu Tech."
"What the fuck?" he manages to choke out, the ringing from earlier slicing through his head. He thinks he hears Yaga asking the same thing, but he can't really tell if other people are still speaking, or if it's himself that's screaming out, blood-curdling and horrified. But then he feels the familiar taste of iron flood his mouth, and he realises he's bitten down on his own tongue.
He wasn't made for this.
He doesn't want this.
He did this. Throat closing up, his brain tries to catch up with what's happening. What he really doesn't understand, what he really can't make sense of, is why Yuuji would do this. Why he'd want his. Why he'd want to stick with Megumi like this.
"Megumi," Yuuji is saying, but Megumi steps backwards, head shaking and fingers trembling. "Megumi, baby. You gotta listen to me. Please."
"Alright everyone!" Gojo awkwardly laughs, and Megumi has never heard a sound so grating in his life. "Surprise! Welcome Yuuji-kun as your new classmate!"