Chapter Text
Satoru Gojō's first impression of Tsumiki Fushiguro was that she was the opposite of her brother.
Satoru had seen her briefly once before in his first meeting with Megumi, but he had left quickly and hadn't formally introduced himself then. He had not planned on doing so until Megumi insisted that he did because, Satoru quoted, "Tsumiki thought about rushing out and chasing you off with a broom the moment she saw you. What do you think she'll do when she starts seeing you hanging around me all the time?"
So, the next week saw Satoru standing on the doorstep of the Fushiguro house — a generous description in Satoru's opinion — and with a box of chocolate in one hand to soften Tsumiki's reception to him, as per Shōko's reluctant advice.
Satoru knocked, and the door opened to reveal the same young girl he had seen last time, giving him a beaming and welcoming smile. "Hello! Is there something I can do for you?"
Megumi told her nothing, that brat, Satoru realised. He was partly exasperated but mostly amused.
"I'm Satoru Gojō," Satoru chirped brightly, holding the chocolate out to her. "I know Megumi's father. Can I come in?"
"Are you like Kong-san?" Tsumiki asked, grabbing the box and looking up at Satoru inquisitively.
Satoru had no idea who this Kong-san was.
"In a way," he answered evasively.
That seemed enough for Tsumiki because she moved to the side, letting him enter with a polite, "Please come in."
Satoru shuffled inside, ducking under the door, taking off his shoes, and placing them down neatly. As Satoru straightened up, Megumi appeared at the end of the hallway, his face bland and hard to gauge as usual. "Gojō-san, hello."
Satoru shot the boy a boisterous grin, "Megumi-kun! Did you miss me?"
Megumi scowled. "No," he answered shortly. "Just tell her and leave as quickly as possible, please."
"Megumi, that's rude!" Tsumiki admonished, but the boy had already disappeared inside the house. She gave Satoru an apologetic expression. "I’m sorry about him."
Satoru shook his head, unperturbed. "It's fine."
"Please come inside," she said and led him in.
Satoru looked between the open kitchen and the living room and tried not to judge too much. Megumi had sat on a cushion at a low table, sipping a steaming, ribbed cup. Satoru stepped closer, and yep, that was tea. Even his tastes are old, Satoru bemoaned.
"Would you like something to drink?" Tsumiki asked, breaking him from his thoughts. "We have water, coffee and tea."
"Coffee, please," he replied. "With sugar and milk."
The girl nodded and turned around.
"Megumi-kun," he drew out the name and received a sour look in reply. "Here." He put down a flip phone, which Megumi eyed like he was taking in a bomb before the boy realised what he was looking at.
"Why are you giving me a phone?" Megumi sounded genuinely confused.
"My, my, Megumi-kun, is the reason not obvious?" Gojō could not resist trying to needle him, but the despite the glower, the boy was thinking.
"You want us to have a way to reach you?" Megumi guessed.
"Ding-ding! Correct. I have one for Tsumiki too. But don't contact me without a good reason. I'm a busy person, you know."
Megumi lost his annoyed expression and nodded solemnly… which was not quite the reaction Gojō wanted.
Ah, well, Gojō thought. Just need to check in every week. Nothing too awful can happen in that time.
After all, what trouble could two children really get into?
Tsumiki arrived then with a tray and offloaded a mug of coffee, a bowl of sugar, a pitcher containing milk, a teapot, and a cup for herself.
"Thank you, Tsumiki-chan," Gojō said, immediately reaching for the sugar and dumping a handful into his coffee. Megumi blanched, disgust and incredulity written all over his face, while Tsumiki merely watched, polite but distant, and said, "You are welcome, Gojō-san."
The girl cast him a curious look, and Satoru took that as his cue to explain. "Put simply, I met with your father recently, and he left you two to me. So!" He ruffled Megumi's hair. The boy tolerated the treatment for a second before batting his hand off. "I will be taking responsibility over you two. In return, Megumi will train under me to become an heir."
"Heir?"
"Yep! Megumi is from a reputable family. Tōji disgraced himself and was cast out, but blood has a lot of weight, and Megumi is still a candidate for clan head. If he could prove himself…" He trailed off.
There! A calculating glint appeared in her eyes.
Of course, most of that was nonsense. One — Tōji never mentioned Tsumiki. Two — Megumi wanted nothing to do with the Zen'in, and Satoru had no desire to change that. But he needed a way to justify his involvement with the boy without falling into the rabbit hole that was curses and sorcery. Plus, Megumi had been very against Tsumiki finding out what deal they had made.
A noble choice, though a little cruel.
"So, you will become our guardian?" Tsumiki probed.
"On paper," Satoru said. "Both of you will receive allowances from which you can live comfortably, but I will hardly be around."
"Oh," the girl said, but she did not seem surprised. As though a thought abruptly entered her head, Tsumiki perked up and turned to Megumi.
"Megumi, I forgot to get the laundry. Could you do that for me?"
The boy nodded, and with a stern look at Gojō — probably daring him to hurt his sister, how cute — he was gone, vanishing up a stairway.
The second Megumi left the room, like a switch was flipped, the expression Tsumiki wore changed. Suddenly, she was not the naïve and warm child he had pegged her as, but one like Megumi, sharpened into a fierce blade by the harshness of life and distrustful. Cursed energy flared around her, hateful and terrified and filled with love.
"Megumi is all I have," she said, sombre and firm as steel. "He is who kept me sane when everything else fell apart, who stayed when everyone else left. If he is to ever die under your care…" She did not finish, but the glint in her gaze was downright brutal. She would curse him, Satoru knew. No longer buoyed, she would drown in heartbreak and loathing.
Experience had long taught him that such feelings had the potential to bring forth the most vicious of curses.
Satoru might be untouchable, but the people around him were not — he took in her words for the warning they were. "Megumi is important to me," he made clear. The boy was an asset. A blessing he would diligently raise until Megumi was a monster maybe not of his level but somewhere approaching. "I have no intention of failing him so badly as to get him killed."
Tsumiki scrutinised him for a long, stifling moment before she nodded, satisfied, and the cursed energy around her settled, nearly disappearing entirely. Again, a gentle air surrounded her. He would have thought her incapable of the hatred – and the aggressiveness – that she showed him.
Satoru nearly whistled.
Her control was impressive for someone with absolutely no sensitivity to cursed energy.
***
"Did Gojō-san come by?" Tsumiki asked, staring at the new takeout box, displaying Patisserie Gram in an elegant font on the side.
"Yes," Megumi answered from where he was helping her peel the potatoes for the curry. He looked up and saw her looking in the fridge. "That’s for you. It’s a strawberry tart."
"Did he take you somewhere today?"
Megumi focused back on the potatoes and said, "Yes. He took me to his high school."
"His high school?" What a strange place to take a child. "And on a weekend?"
"The teachers and students live on campus," Megumi explained. "I met his teacher and a friend. Masamichi Yaga and Shōko Ieiri. We are meant to contact them if we need anything, and Gojō-san can’t be reached."
Not his parents or another family member, Tsumiki noted.
"What did you think of them?"
Her brother paused to think. "They’re good people," he decided, truth ringing in his voice and stature. "Ieiri-san is studying to become a doctor. She met Gojō-san back in their first year. She basically babysat me while Gojo-san talked to Yaga-san and told me stories. Apparently, Gojō-san…"
Tsumiki listened as Megumi talked about Gojō with the same quiet fervour as he did his books.
***
Something was wrong.
Megumi was quiet. More than usual. His expression was rigid and brittle. His hands were clenched into fists around the straps of his backpack, and he glared straight ahead into the distance with an intensity that bordered on desperation.
Something was wrong.
The world around her was weird. The air was heavy and suffocating. Darkness loomed, creeping up streetlights and pooling across the pavement despite the bright evening sun, staining the sky in the colour of flames. Silence reigned, ringing in her ears, and when she listened too closely… Her skin prickled with gooseflesh.
Follow Megumi, she told herself fiercely. Follow Megumi. Follow Megumi.
There was movement in the peripheral of her vision, and she instinctively turned around, eyes landing on someone metres away. A tattered white dress. Black, protruding vines stark against ghastly pale skin. Hunched forward so that the face was curtained by messy hair, and heading rising, as though sensing her gaze, strands parting to reveal a gored, rotting face—
"Tsumiki!"
Megumi. Megumi was calling for her, voice shrill, and she ripped her eyes away from that thing to see her brother, face bloodless with fear. His hand grabbed hers and pulled her into a run.
"Megumi-kun?"
Gojō?
Tsumiki looked toward the direction of the sound, and her sight landed on Megumi, holding his flip phone to his ear, as he gasped out, "Curse."
"Give me five seconds,” Gojō replied. He sounded calm, and her brain latched onto that steadiness like a lifeline. Distantly, she noticed that Megumi had let her hand go.
"One."
The shadows grew, and a shriek tore through the silence behind her.
"Two."
They were ducking into an alleyway. One that Tsumiki tended to avoid — finding the maze of winding, narrow, decrepit passageways they led to too claustrophobic and eerie to travel — but she remembered Megumi telling her they were a shortcut home.
"Three."
Megumi made a pained sound, and the shadows receded, but a feminine, distorted voice grew louder.
"Four."
Footsteps. Irregular but fast and gaining on them.
"Five."
In an instant, Gojō was there. Standing before them. Large enough to blot out the sinking sun. A grin was cutting across his face, as menacing as a knife poised over the heart. His usual sunglasses were gone, revealing eyes that were unusually bright, shimmering like starlight off a blade. He was exuding a pressure that had her body locking in place and sent her mind fuzzing in terror.
But Megumi was continuing forward, unfazed. He tugged on a sleeve and gasped a relieved, "Gojō-san."
Gojō gaped down at her brother — the ominous heaviness that pressed down on her completely receding — before he scrutinised Megumi with an uncharacteristically dour expression. He crouched down in front of her brother and cupped each cheek with a hand. "Good work, Megumi-kun. You thought well on your feet."
A muffled protesting noise from Megumi — likely against his face being treated like a squishy — and Gojō was smiling, a look which transformed his face, appearing so boyish and elated that all her fear melted away.
"Now." Gojō swept Megumi up and over onto a shoulder. "Time for you two to go home." Gojō was looking at her. "Tsumiki-chan?" He held out a hand, which she took.
"Do you know what happened?"
Gojō said the question in the same manner he asked about her day at school — nonchalantly.
It made pretending easier.
"There was a lady," Tsumiki lied, remembering the splat of blood that quickly faded away, a tiny Megumi being cradled against a broad chest, and this is just a dream, a bad dream, go back to sleep.
"She started chasing us for no reason. Thank you for scaring her off."
***
"Ya-ho! It is I, Satoru Gojō!" Tsumiki perked up. She had sent Megumi to get the door as she finished off washing the dishes — thinking the visitor was Nakamura-san, their neighbour, who would often cook too much and pass the extra over to them — and the unanticipated voice had her removing her gloves and padding over to the doorway.
"—doing here?"
"So cold, Megumi-kun!" Gojō pouted theatrically but bounced back into his typical exuberant self in the next second. "Well, you see, there’s a festival nearby. I thought, I’m free and in the area, so why not take you two and go?" He wiggled his fingers. "What do you think? Aren’t I great? I bet Tsumiki-chan will have fun."
"…okay," Megumi replied, head tilted slightly to the floor.
Gojō sobered up, and his gaze on Megumi seemed… soft? The expression flickered quickly into a bright grin, and he caught her gaze.
"Tsumiki-chan! What do you say about a little adventure?"
"I want to go!" Tsumiki agreed wholeheartedly.
***
The sun was still up, the dwindling light clinging to everything like dye and creating an ethereal glow. The festival was not yet in full swing, but stores were already open, and a sizable crowd mingled about. Some were dressed artfully in yukata and kimono, catching her eye with their sleek, elegant, dignified cuts or intricate and gorgeous layering and embroidery. Megumi was similarly enthralled, but his gaze tended to stray towards the food stands, displaying traditional specialties like yakisoba, takoyaki or dango.
Gojō took charge, leading the pair from store to store, and at the fifth, as she bit into a crepe that was as delightfully sweet as she had expected, Tsumiki noticed that he was herding them to places that either she or Megumi displayed even a passing interest in. Megumi had also realised, which explained the lack of his usual complaints or grudgingness about the number of deserts that Gojō foisted on him.
In between, Gojō ushered them towards the carnival games, and Tsumiki found herself trying her hand at several activities, like goldfish scooping and katanuki, of which Gojō also seemed clueless. He quickly bridged over his inexperience, to her amusement, and in a matter of a few tries, he was excelling so well at the tasks that the vendors were paling in a way that had Tsumiki feeling sorry for them.
(Megumi was not so amused, sulking down at a broken scoop after another failed attempt at catching a goldfish, muttering, "This should be criminal."
Gojō ribbing and niggling him did not help.)
They went by a particular stand when Megumi stopped, eyes narrowing on a black dog plushie on a shelf. It was a shooting game where one was meant to knock over a prize using a gun.
Wordlessly, Megumi went over. Tsumiki and Gojō shared an exasperatedly fond glance and followed him.
"Welcome!" The clerk exclaimed. "Here to try your luck, kid?" Megumi nodded. "It’s 200 yen for five tries."
Megumi handed him the fee and received a gun, which he carefully aimed.
The first shot was a dud. So was the second. Megumi was scowling openly at his third turn because the cork had hit the plushie but bounced off vainly.
What he did next shocked Tsumiki and Gojō both greatly.
"Gojō-san." Megumi was reaching out and tugging Gojō on the sleeve. He pointed his other hand at the black dog plushie. "Could you win that for me, please?"
Gojō smirked, slow and thrilled. He winked and said, "Leave this to me!"
Tsumiki watched as Gojō grabbed the gun and aimed with a sharp focus that would not be out of place on a battlefield. Watched as he failed, and Megumi stood, watchful and sure. Watched as Gojō learned from that single misfiring and hit the target on the next in exactly the right way to send the plushie toppling over the shelf.
Megumi was too reserved to jump or squeal in excitement, but his eyes were wide and practically sparkling in glee, slightly twitching as he waited for the vendor to bestow the reward in a way that belied his impatience. She realised with a sad pang that she could scarcely remember the times she saw him like this — expressing his wants and desires and discontentment, as simple as they were, freely and happy.
Feeling burst in her chest — bitterness, elation, and relief all at once, crashing into her like a wave. She gazed at her family — Megumi, quietly radiating joy as he clutched the dog plushie to his chest, Gojō beside him, looking upon her brother with something like satisfaction — and tried to burn the scene into her memory.
***
When Megumi excused himself to the restroom, Tsumiki finally let herself break down.
"What—why are you crying?!" Gojō yelled, hands waving wildly, and she ignored his frantic babbling to rub her face dry with the sleeve of her jumper. "I’m fine," she croaked.
Gojō looked unconvinced, so she elaborated. "I’m happy—glad."
Gojō crouched down and tilted his head. He echoed her questioningly, "Glad?"
"Megumi does not ask for anything," she said, looking in the direction her brother walked off. "But today, he wanted you to win the puppy for him."
Gojō looked lost.
"Thank you," she said, smiling in gratitude. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For saving us. For saving Megumi.
"Please continue to take care of Megumi."
Gojō grinned, standing up. "Of course. Don’t worry," he assured her, patting her head roughly. "Because I am Satoru Gojō."
***
"What do you think of Gojō-san?" Megumi had asked her once.
He is like Tōji, she had thought, and not like him in the best ways, but she knew better than to say that to Megumi.