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In the summer of his first-grade year, a man with white hair and sunglasses came up to him and poured his unbearable personality out for Megumi to see. He had not cared at the time, and brushed off the entire interaction even as it happened.
‘Your father-’ “I don’t care.”
‘The Zen’in clan-’ “Not unless Tsumiki is with me.”
‘Leave the rest to me.’ That one, he had nearly scoffed at. Even at his practically toddling age he could tell that whoever this guy patting his head like one would to a kitten was, he had not an ounce of actual maturity to spare aside from keeping his own self alive. And that was just the baseline.
Before the guy had walked off, he had yelled one more thing back to Megumi, and it solidified the assumption in the kid’s chest that this so called ‘sorcerer’ who had come to ‘help them’ would probably only pop in now and again to soothe his own self image, and hardly be a figure at all.
He had said: “I’ve got someone– some business to take care of right now. But once that gets a little less troublesome, I’ll hang out with you all the time, kay?”
Megumi stopped only for a second on the cement stairs in front of his house to let out a barely audible ‘tch’ before slamming himself inside without another word to the strange man on the street.
He assumed with great assuredness that it was best to brush off Tsumiki’s questions about the half an interaction she saw between him and the man from the upstairs window. With a quick ‘it was nothing, we probably won’t see him again anyway,’ the order was restored, and Megumi allowed himself to push the promise made to him by that guy to the back of his mind.
-
But he did come back. Sunglasses and all, three weeks later the same white haired man was standing outside of their front door with a large paper bag in hand.
His name was Satoru Gojo, Megumi had learned upon hearing a shriek of ‘that guy is back!’ From the poor Tsumiki who had opened the door.
He had practically let himself in, walking past Megumi’s sister with some bold and arrogant swagger to his step that gave off the impression of ‘I am here, and I don’t feel like leaving. What are you gonna do about it?’
He had slipped off his shoes before even acknowledging Megumi was in front of him, and when he finally did, it was only with a lax wave of extreme passiveness. As if walking into someone’s house uninvited was fine, or ordinary.
“You actually showed up huh?” Megumi had said in his little high pitched and prepubescent voice, because that was really all he could think upon seeing Gojo waltz through the door. “Weren't you too busy?”
The white haired teen had done a dramatic bow in the style of a stage performer, and smiled at Megumi despite his sourness. “As promised. And I managed to stabilize the issue. Now everything is as it should be, and you should get familiar with your new world!” He had stood there babbling about ‘cursed techniques’ for at least five minutes before remembering the massive bag weighing his arm down. “Oh but first! I brought you guys stuff.”
He dumped the bag upside down right there in the crook of the front door next to Megumi’s sneakers and Tsumiki’s little buckled shoes, and a pile of toys tumbled out. They were generic, probably whatever he could find at the store from the latest ‘kids trends’ catalog, and Megumi had never really had toys. But nevertheless, with only a slight suspicious glance shot at Gojo for a few moments, he bent down, and picked up a plastic dinosaur that had knocked against his feet on its way out of the bag.
“Oh! How pretty.” Tsumiki had mumbled into a gasp, and she was brushing her fingers through a little doll’s hair. Megumi froze at that, because he really did want to reject everything Gojo was throwing at him in some bratty and rebellious desire to do the opposite of what he was told. But Tsumiki had sparkles in her eyes while combing that plastic hair, and Megumi in all his limited and adolescent knowledge, thought it was nice when his sister had good things. So he looked at Gojo, still holding the dinosaur and still scowling.
“I’ll go with you, I guess. If you think Tsumiki can come too.” And Gojo smiled, pressing his hand into Megumi’s hair again like he had the day they had met.
“I told you, don’t worry about that! And you guys will still be living together all the time! I’m just going to get you an apartment closer to where I live. I’m still in school, so it’s just near the Jujutsu High grounds.” And Megumi was fine with that. They were already running out of money anyway. But he looked at Gojo again wearily and something akin to disbelief graced his features.
“School is for kids. You’re obviously not a kid.” Megumi had blurted, and Tsumiki looked up from the doll in her hands to mirror her brother’s face.
“Why do you live at school?” She had asked, and her finger pointed over to Megumi. “He goes to school every day, but comes right home. Don’t you have a family to go to?”
Gojo stood there in front of the children still gripping his then-empty paper bag, and rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses. “I cut them off ages ago. Total sticks in the mud, kinda like you hate your dad, right?” And he waved a floppy hand in a motion to Megumi. “And everyone who goes to my school lives on campus. I’m in my final year though, so I could move out soon if I wanted to. Or stick around, they wouldn’t care.”
“You can just stay even if you’re old enough to leave?” Tsumiki had asked, with the doll still clutched to her chest.
Gojo only grinned, “I’m hard to say no to, but I’ll probably move out anyway. I made plans.”
He seemed almost giddy when saying it, but Megumi had only interpreted it as weirdness, and ran his fingers over the spiky teeth of his dinosaur again.
-
After three months, Gojo had become a constant in Megumi’s life, along with Tsumiki’s. They had moved pretty quickly into their new apartment, and he visited them almost every day to have a meal, or vaguely inquire about how Megumi’s energy was going since his technique had officially begun to develop.
Megumi had noticed within a week of Gojo being around that the man was obsessed with sweets to an unhealthy level. Every few visits he would bring the kids a candy bar or two as a treat, and by the time he left, he had almost always just eaten the gift himself. Sometimes, with exhausted eyes and a pale face, he would waltz into their house at five in the evening, cook a pack of ramen for them both to split, and sit at the table with them as they ate, slowly gnawing on a packet of sugary rice cakes instead of being a model and showing Megumi that one could be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and a sustained, healthy human at the same time.
Then there were the glasses that never came off. At least, they rarely did. Sometimes Gojo would flop onto the couch in their living room and knock them off his face, not bothering to fix the error before passing out cold. Megumi had never really cared to ask, and Tsumiki had only offhandedly mentioned that his eyes were very blue on one of the rare occasions they saw them bare.
And the most prominent staple of Megumi’s guardian in his opinion, was the phone calls. Almost every time Gojo came over, his phone would ring obnoxiously, and he would smile down at the device like it was the light of his life. Never once had Megumi seen him ignore a single one of those almost daily phone calls. And never did he think he ever would.
-
Gojo had been there for nearly a year before they had gathered around at the dinner table with a properly cooked meal and sat together eating as Gojo’s phone sat blaring on the counter. He made no move to pick it up, and opted to not even acknowledge the ringing at all. Instead, his mouth stretched into a grin that was too wide to be real, and Megumi was only suddenly aware of how exhausted the man looked.
Gojo had graduated in one piece, and he lived somewhere around Tokyo with someone that was not himself. That was all the seven-year-old Megumi was able to gather from the short snippets of phone calls and text messages he had seen. And from how long they had been in daily contact with each other, Megumi assumed whoever the person was, they were pretty close with Gojo.
So when he sat miserable and avoidant at the dinner table with obnoxious background noise, Megumi finally asked about it, just to address the elephant in the room. “Did something happen with the person you call all the time?” He had said, and Gojo began to eat a little quicker, and a little more aggressively.
“Nope! We are all good! So good. We’re great.” And he smiled even wider, even less convincing.
Megumi remembered Gojo’s last words to him before his three-week disappearance the day they had met. ‘I’ve got someone to take care of… business… soon, kay?’ The man had changed his wording to 'something,' but Megumi knew it was connected. “Do you have to leave and take care of them again?”
Gojo choked on his food, but Megumi held out his stare, knowing that Gojo would just deflect if he did otherwise. “No! No, that problem is not coming back.” He muttered something about ‘no more impending doom and murderous intent’ but Megumi was still a child, and he did not register that such muttering held any weight. “We just got in a fight. It’s fine, all cou- friends, all friends fight sometimes.”
“Is that why you brought your toothbrush over? Did they kick you out?” Megumi watched with a straight face as Gojo floundered and hacked on his food like he had been convicted of murder.
“How do you even know these things? I swear, you’re a freaky kid, Megumi.” It was not hard to know about Gojo’s housemate. The white haired man was just under the impression that if he went into the bathroom and locked the door, then he was suddenly in a sound-proof box that Megumi could not hear a peep out of through the walls. He was wrong, obviously. All that really had to be done to find out about Gojo’s apparent secret was walk past whatever room the man happened to be in, and acknowledge the fact that he was giggling like a bubbly child to whoever he had locked himself up to talk to.
“I did not get kicked out. Just temporarily relocated. Su- They would get too sad without me, after all.” He held himself so confidently, but Megumi and Tsumiki made eye contact when Gojo’s voice cracked at ‘sad.’
“Good. I don’t want you to be here snoring for too long.” And Tsumiki nodded in agreement as Megumi talked.
“Megumi you liar! I sleep cuddled and quiet like a baby!” Gojo was playing up some sort of offense to take the attention of the children away from their first matter of subject. Looking back on it, that was obvious, but Megumi had not caught on at the time, and only scoffed back at Gojo, pushing the finally quiet phone to the back of his mind.
“I can hear you from my bedroom. And you’re still asleep on the couch when I am ready to go to school. It happens every time you stay the night.” He took his final bite of dinner and chewed while watching Gojo’s dramatically played up reaction.
“Brutal Megumi. And here I thought you liked having me over.”
Megumi had never said that.
-
Two months later marked one year and one month since Gojo had practically stolen Megumi and Tsumiki off the streets, and the boy had officially mastered summoning at least one dog, sometimes two. He was working on bunnies next, and Gojo had been semi-helpful.
But he had not come over in four days, and it had been basically out of the question for him to go any more than two days without a visit for nearly ten months. And even then, he only missed an extra day when he was extremely busy.
“I hope Satoru is okay.” Tsumiki muttered, like she had been muttering for the last three days. And Megumi did not reply.
They were sitting on the floor in the kitchen, both eating a dinner of slightly aged blueberries and apple juice that Gojo had bought for them a few days before he left. One of Megumi’s dogs was sitting there with them, head on Tsumiki’s lap because he had been summoned for her comfort.
Megumi did not like feeling abandoned again. It sucked, and he felt a heated embarrassment knowing he wanted Gojo to come back. He fiddled with the plastic straw on his juicebox, and only slightly registered the heavy thunder booming outside the window from a storm strong enough to flood the streets and make their lights flicker. He was not worried. He was not.
It was ten at night when Tsumiki and Megumi curled up on the couch together and turned on some movie from a DVD that Toji had tossed to them before his final disappearance in a half assed attempt to do something a little nice for the kid he had brought onto the earth. It was a sucky rip off from a gas station movie box, but it was the only thing they really had to watch, other than Gojo’s shitty romance dramas that he brought over, so it was on at least once a week.
Without warning, or knocking, the door burst open thirty minutes after the movie started. A soaking wet figure covered in rain and blood was carrying an even bloodier body. It took Megumi a few seconds to realize it was Gojo carrying someone. Blue eyes blown wide in fear, and legs trembling. Megumi noticed that his weird invisible wall was not up.
“You, you should have gone to sleep. You should be asleep.” Gojo muttered frantically upon entering the house. He attempted in any small way he could to hide the bloody body in his hands from the young children’s view, but they had seen, and they stood in shock looking at the scene. “Tsumiki then, I need you to do something okay? It’s fine, okay? Just call her–here” He did his best to support the body with one hand so he could give the little girl his phone. “Just look for a contact, and call it, yeah? The one named ‘Shoko’ and tell her that Suguru needs help. Okay? It’s okay, yeah?” He was babbling, rushed and scared, looking down at the figure in his hands.
“First aid, yeah. I put it in the bathroom I think.” Was the last thing he muttered before rushing down the hall, leaving Tsumiki to dial up whoever Shoko was, and Megumi to stand still and stare at the dripping puddle of blood ‘Suguru’ had left behind.
Ten minutes later there was a girl in their house panting out a lung as though she had just been running as fast as she could, and without even looking at the children, she followed the blood trail to the bathroom.
Megumi and Tsumiki stood still around the hall, listening to Gojo’s frantic and scared mumbling followed by repeated sushes from the girl in the bathroom.
‘I stabilized him, Satoru, it's okay.’
‘I fucked up so bad Shoko, he said– he didn’t even get called for this mission, I just took him along. He didn’t want to go I–’
‘No one could have seen this happening. What about you, do you need any healing?’
‘No, no I healed myself I think. Shoko, I'm so selfish. If I had just learned to heal other people instead of just shoving reversed energy into getting stronger then none of this would have happened. Suguru would have been fine– and I still would be strong.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up about stupid shit, Satoru. Suguru is gonna be fine, and you aren’t the healer type anyway. Too cocky.’ She was joking, obviously trying to help lighten the other’s mood, and it was evident to the Megumi listening through the wall that she was not the sentimental type.
Her efforts were met with silence, and for a brief moment Megumi swore he heard sniffling, as though someone had just stopped crying. But that was hardly likely. Gojo never cried.
‘So those are the kids, huh?’ Megumi shifted a little upon realizing that the woman was talking about them.
‘Yeah.’
‘Has Suguru met them?’
‘No. Tsumiki isn’t a sorcerer and I– I wanted to make sure it was safe, and that he had gotten the help he needed beforehand. I guess, just in case– you know.’ He sounded so unbelievably guilty saying it. Like he was ashamed of himself for ever expecting the worst out of this Suguru character.
‘He was planning some pretty bad things before you intervened. I don’t blame you.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, but I’d like them to meet, you know? He’s important to me, and so are they.’
‘I’m sure they’ll meet him tomorrow. He’s at their house anyway. Why did you bring him here of all places in the first place?’
‘It– it’s closer to the battle than Jujutsu High is. I thought, he was, he really was dying and I wanted to dress his wounds. But you know Suguru, he gets so queasy and he was already weak, so I didn’t, couldn’t teleport him over. So I came here, brought him here.’
‘Okay. Hey, breathe Satoru, yeah? He’s gonna be fine. You did fine.’
‘This sucks so bad, maybe I should have let him run away. All he did was get hurt again–’
‘Don’t fucking say that. You know that things would have ended up even worse if he had continued on with having those shitty ideals.’
For a moment everything was silent, and Megumi heard shuffling in the bathroom. He made eye contact with Tsumiki, who was mirroring his own confused and curious expression, her eyes still shocked-wide.
‘I can’t fucking imagine living in a world without him Shoko. Living in a world where I had to kill him.’ It was said with a wavering exhaustion, as though he was on the verge of a breakdown but had no energy for one.
‘I know, I know, it would suck ass.’ Megumi wondered how curse words could hold so much affection.
Somehow he knew they were hugging, even through the solid door.
-
Megumi had not gone to school the next day, and Gojo had slept on a futon next to the couch until noon. On the couch for the earlier half of the morning asleep had been the same blood covered man from the night before, but he was clean. He had long black hair loose around his shoulders and back, and big chunks of metal in his ears that Megumi restrained himself from sticking his finger through.
Shoko had left at six in the morning after making Megumi and Tsumiki a snack, and whining to herself about leaving her cigarettes in the office. With one last check over the two men passed out in the living room, she had left with a wave, and told Tsumiki to call her if anything happened.
The man woke up at ten, and smiled down at Gojo’s sleeping body, only slightly wincing as he got up. It was apparent he had no idea where he was until his eyes landed on Megumi, and he startled slightly with widened eyes. “He wasn’t joking about the resemblance.” Suguru had muttered, still staring at Megumi, before shaking off whatever funk he had gotten himself into.
“You’re Megumi, yes? And Tsumiki too.” He smiled and waved, but neither of the children said anything in reply. It made the relaxed pleasantness of the man’s face falter a bit, but he regained himself quickly. “I don’t suppose you have any tea, do you?”
“Green tea, in the kitchen.” Tsumiki muttered, and Megumi had never seen her act so shy. Suguru only smiled back at her.
“Thank you, I’m going to make some, if that is okay with you.” And both kids nodded without a sound. They watched as Suguru pushed himself off the couch, wincing almost to the point of doubling over, and grabbing his stomach. With a stutter in his steps, he almost toppled onto the still sleeping Gojo on the ground in front of him, but he managed to collect himself enough to stop his legs from wavering. “Sorry about that.” He said, and Megumi was not sure if he was talking to them, or the Satoru he had almost fallen on top of.
“Do– do you want me to make it? Your tea.” Tsumiki offered with knitted eyebrows as she watched the man struggle.
He looked up at her, smile a little more genuine, like he was just glad she was talking to him. “No, that’s quite alright. Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Ms. Shoko said we didn’t have to go.” Tsumiki answered, and she looked a little more worried as Suguru stumbled his way into the kitchen.
He laughed a little, and the joy on his face contrasted the bags under his eyes. Megumi felt another sick spin in his stomach at seeing yet another sorcerer– another depiction of his own future, exhausted and lacking all skills related to self care. “Of course she did.”
“Are you the person who Satoru is always on the phone with?” Megumi blurted as the first thing he ever said to Suguru Geto.
Eyes widened around long black hair, and his smile turned a little bitter. “So he hasn’t even told you about me yet, huh.” He stared down at the kettle as it filled up with water, and every ounce of the once content happy look on his face had dissipated. “I get it.”
“He told us that he lives with someone.” Megumi supplied, “And that they get sad when he’s not around.”
Suguru laughed, still looking slightly ashamed for some reason, but less so. “I guess that’s true. I do get sad. But not as much as he does when I’m not around.”
“Satoru is very clingy.” Tsumiki agreed, and it pulled a laugh out of Suguru.
“Indeed.”
-
Gojo had woken up, and everything slotted into place.
He had jolted up immediately and scolded Suguru for getting up unsupervised.
“Don’t pull that scolding irresponsible act when you’ve been living off energy drinks for five days now, Satoru.” And Megumi watched with awe as a simple sentence from this Suguru guy made Gojo shut up instantly. “Do you want me to make you something here, or at home? I’d feel bad taking the Fushigurou’s food, in all honesty. But I can make something for everyone in that instance I suppose.”
“You don’t need to be cooking when you’re already about to keel over from just making tea and changing clothes. I can do it.” There had never ever been a point where Megumi had seen Gojo willingly offer to do something for someone after they had claimed they were fine doing it. He was lazy and self centered at heart, right?
“Don’t try lying to me, you know it won’t work. You’re exhausted and malnourished. I can handle a stomach ache.” Their fight was so domestic, it made half a realization– half an assumption swirl into Megumi’s mind, but the actual legitimacy of his thoughts did not feel as though it really mattered, so he stayed next to Tsumiki on the couch and continued to listen to them banter.
“Suguru, you almost died, I won’t– I can’t.” And without another word, Suguru wrapped his arms around the stuttering man’s waist and was hugging him flush against his own body. Megumi watched as the slight glassiness he had heard in Gojo’s voice the night before traveled into his eyes and he wrapped his own arms around Suguru in return.
Their voices died down into hushed muttering, and Megumi could no longer hear anything. But he had never seen Gojo look so vulnerable before, and opted to look down at a string on his jacket that he had been fiddling with to give them some privacy.
-
“Eight years old Megumi! Only seven more until you go to Jujutsu High! Maybe I can convince Yaga to give you my old dorm. You know what he did yesterday, right? He offered me a job as a teacher. Isn’t that stupid? I think I’ll leave him on ‘maybe’ for a few years, but I’ll definitely wanna teach when you’re there.” Gojo was blabbing and holding Megumi’s little blue cupcake hostage.
He was having an okay time learning about his technique and how to use it, even if he knew that his future world was a lot different from Tsumiki’s, and that they would eventually start drifting apart. But at that moment, Tsumiki was standing next to Gojo at the kitchen table with Suguru Geto standing right next to her.
Suguru had started coming over a lot after that night. Sometimes even without Gojo, but usually they were right by each other’s side. Satoru brought them sweets, and Suguru brought Megumi books every once and a while. Something inside him flushed with embarrassment the day he realized that he liked having them over.
“Tell me if you ever want out of Jujutsu Tech okay Megumi? You can come research cursed energy with me and Yuki, or you could transfer over to Kyoto if you wanted to. Utahime is friendly.” When she’s not around Satoru at least, Suguru did not add.
“Don’t stray him away from school before he starts Suguru! And Utahime hates friendliness.” Gojo finally set the cupcake down, and Megumi snatched it before the white haired man could steal it again and eat it himself. “Besides, what if he makes friends! It would have been devastating to be at Jujutsu Tech without you, you know. What if someone feels like that about him?”
“I don’t think I will be falling for any of my future classmates.” Megumi muttered. Satoru and Suguru had lasted a good three visits to the Fushigurou’s house before it became so blatantly obvious that they were dating that nothing even had to be said. Megumi and Tsumiki just started referring to them as each other’s boyfriend , and they were never corrected.
“It’s better if you don’t.” Suguru agreed. It’s better if you are not constantly waiting for the love of your life to die on the field.’ Is what he did not say.
But something flashed across Gojo’s face because he always knew what Suguru was thinking. And his hands tightened in on themselves. But he cleared his thoughts and assumed Megumi had not seen the falter. “Suguru, don’t lie. You love me.”
He had seen it. And he saw it again in Suguru’s eyes after Gojo had spoken. “That I do.”
-
There had never been a moment between the realization Megumi had that Geto and Gojo were in love, and the year he entered middle school where he ever doubted that one would sacrifice themselves in a heartbeat to save the other.
Many nights Gojo came home– home as in the Suguru-Satoru apartment (more so a penthouse) that had gained two new full time members ever since Tsumiki had turned eleven, and Megumi had turned nine, and Gojo decided rather sole-mindedly that there was no need for the Fushigurou sibling to have their own house when Gojo already had one with room to spare. Megumi was at least grateful that the man had given them a few years to get used to the dynamic of having semi-functional adults around before treating them as though they were family.
Gojo would come home bloodied and exhausted with shaky legs, and Suguru would drop whatever he was doing to rush over and help. He could sit there on the side of the bathtub, cleaning each individual strand of Satoru’s hair, removing all signs of crust and blood without a single complaint. Even if he lost half his night doing so, and set off at four in the morning the next day to attend his tasks with Yuki, he would continue without a word.
And Satoru was no better when it came to Suguru. He kept cough drops in his pocket at all times for the other man’s sore throat, and would sit with him for hours on end listening to Suguru’s every word as he talked about his fucked up cycle of consuming and being consumed. Even if he was having some sort of episode that lasted multiple days and took away his ability to sleep entirely, Satoru would stay up with him and kill three special grade curses the next day. If he needed to do it again the next night, he would.
They were connected, almost codependent. Every once in a while, Megumi thought back to what Gojo had said on the day that Suguru ended up at their old apartment all battered and half dead.
‘I can’t fucking imagine living in a world without him Shoko. Living in a world where I had to kill him.’
His gut always twisted at the memory, and he wondered: What had happened while Satoru and Suguru were students?
-
He finally asked when he was fourteen, and in his last few months of normal school before entering the sorcerer world officially and entirely.
He and Gojo were sipping on bottles of lemonade from a vending machine near his school after a parent-teacher conference about Megumi’s fighting habits. Gojo always played the part of a concerned and angry guardian well, but Megumi knew he had not given a fuck.
Still, they were alone together, and they hardly ever were, so Megumi blurted it out without really thinking. “Hey, what happened to Suguru during your school days?”
He had predicted a hesitation from Gojo, not a full body freeze. Instantly he wished he could go back and un-ask the question, but it was out, and all he could do was stop alongside Satoru silently.
“I was wondering if you were ever gonna grow the balls to ask.” Gojo tried to joke, but his voice cracked and he looked down at the ground. “Nothing ongoing.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Suguru said he wanted to, when the time came. But I don’t want you to know, yeah.” The empty can of lemonade in Gojo’s hand crushed itself in the air just above his palm. “I think it’s better to forgive and forget, you know?” And he kept walking.
Megumi stayed still and stared.
-
He asked Suguru the next week while they were washing dishes together. Tsumiki was off with a friend or two, and Gojo was on a mission. It was the first time since Megumi had asked about their past that Gojo had actually allowed him to be in one room with Suguru alone. He had been skillfully avoiding letting them spend time together, knowing Megumi would pounce on the chance to ask. And he had finally gotten the opportunity to do so when two first grade sorcerers were neck deep in heavy battle, and Gojo had no choice but to go help.
Suguru had responded to his question without a hint of surprise. In fact, he had almost seemed relieved that it was finally asked. Without any complaint, he put down the dish, and faced Megumi with a serious expression.
“In my third year, I got stuck in a rut, and ended up really depressed. Satoru and I were hardly talking anymore. And a good friend had just died. A year prior to that, a young girl I had grown fond of– not in the same way I am fond of Satoru of course– had died, along with her own very good friend.”
Megumi could understand keeping depressive tendencies away from the world of a small child. But he was still lost on why they had not told him, even as he reached his teen years that Suguru had just been battling depression.
“My grief and anger ended up largely pointed at being a sorcerer. None of them would have died if the practice of sorcery, and the world that came with it never existed you know?” And that’s when Suguru’s voice started cracking, and Megumi started to understand.
Oh.
Oh.
“You know this, because everyone does, but curses come from humans. They always have, and always will.”
Megumi thought he might vomit into the sink right then and there. A tightening in his chest stopped him from responding or breathing.
“In my rage, I had begun to make plans of creating my ideal world. One where none of my friends would ever die from another curse again, and Satoru and I would not be kept apart from countless missions to save ignorant non-shaman that acted so horrifically towards those who saved them. It angered me that so many sorcerers died as adolescents because of the outside world’s hate and violence.”
“You were going to kill all non-shaman?” Megumi asked with a waver to his voice. He thought about Tsumiki and her kindness. It made bile crawl into his throat thinking about Suguru’s bloody hands and mis-used technique standing over his big sister’s dead body.
“I wanted to. But Satoru and I were assigned a mission together in a small village north of Tokyo where they were keeping two sorcerer girls locked in a cage out of fear, and I burst. I told him everything I had been thinking, and everything I wanted to do. And he didn’t leave. We carried out the mission, and we rescued the girls, and Satoru just squeezed my hand and said that he would help me get the help I needed.” Suguru had long since looked away from Megumi, and was drying the same plate over and over with trembling hands. “If Satoru had not been there, I would have killed everyone in that village. Even with him there I considered it.”
“What– Are you, done? WIth thinking that, I mean. Do you still want to– at all?” Megumi stuttered out, and pretended not to hear the pain in his own voice, or see the regret and hurt on Suguru’s face.
“Yuki Tsukumo is a special grade sorcerer just like me who has devoted her time and effort into finding a way to fix Jujutsu society without causing mass harm to non-shaman. Ever since I stopped doing exorcisms full time, and started working with her, I’ve been free of such intent. Though I must admit, sometimes when I visit the girls we saved that night– Mimiko and Nanako, and I hear them mention their life prior to being saved, I wish I had continued on with my plan.” He stopped wiping the plate in his hand for a split second, and squeezed his eyes shut quickly as if desperately trying to blink away tears. “Other than that, not at all. Satoru helped me, so did Yaga and Shoko and Yuki.”
“I see” Megumi nodded, but his head felt fuzzy and his legs felt shaky. “I– I need to think for a minute, I’m going on a walk.” It was nearly nine at night, Gojo would probably be back shortly, but he felt the need for fresh air, all the times that Geto was hand in hand with Tsumiki close enough to hurt her flashed through his mind as he grabbed a jacket and shoved on shoes.
“Okay.” Suguru responded quietly. He was not arguing, or begging Megumi to stay, he did not even turn to watch him leave as he walked out the door.
Somehow it twinged Megumi’s gut with guilt.
-
An hour later he was sitting on a park bench, feet wet with melted snow and digits numb with each passing second of cold. A warm and powerful body sat next to him, he did not look them in the eye.
“Suguru has been wanting to tell you for a long time. He wanted to before you two got so close so it wouldn’t hurt as much.” Gojo’s voice rang out beside him, and he clenched his fist.
“You shouldn’t let him near Tsumiki.” He snapped. His voice was hoarse.
Gojo breathed out and gave a bitter smile, “You two are so similar. He was terrified to meet her for the longest time out of fear that he would end up hurting her. That was back when we were nineteen, and he still gets into these little fits where he gets horrified with the idea of losing himself and accidentally killing her.”
Megumi tensed up at that. “Do you think it would happen?”
“Not at all.” The answer was immediate. “Suguru worked so fucking hard to stop hurting, and stop wanting to hurt. I think hell would freeze over before he laid a hand on an innocent person.”
It was not surprising to hear such a thing. Because despite the newfound information Megumi had learned, Suguru was someone he knew, and a feeling of deep trust in his heart felt as though this had not changed a thing. But he had been abandoned before, and he knew that bad shit came from people who were supposed to care, so he held on. “What would you do if it did happen? If Suguru snapped and hurt Tsumiki for being a non-shaman.”
“I’d kill him.” It was serious and intense, so much darker than the Gojo he knew.
“But you love him.” He thought of killing Tsumiki, the closest person he had in his life to having the same unbreakable and life long bond that Suguru and Satoru had, and he felt sick.
“More than anything.” It was a quick and easy answer. “But if Suguru hurts Tsumiki, then my Suguru has already died.”
“He still gets into these little fits where he gets horrified with the idea of losing himself and accidentally killing her.”
“It’s okay to feel weary, or shocked. It’s okay to think you should hate him. But Suguru hates his past self more than all of us combined could hate it. And I trust him with every bone in my body.”
Megumi thought about Gojo and Geto sleeping on the couch together after watching a movie, laying there wrapped around each other like bloody wars and terrible monsters did not exist. He thought about Gojo keeping his infinity down at night just so he and Suguru could embrace each other skin to skin, and how intensely safe he must feel to be able to allow his body to be vulnerable and unguarded as long as Suguru was there as he slept.
“I just left him there in the kitchen.” Megumi spat out, “he must feel like shit.”
“He thinks you’re never going to talk to him again.” Gojo admitted, and his sunglasses had misted over from the snow, but Megumi could still tell he was sad.
“Fuck. Why do you guys have to be so complicated?”
The air was broken with a laugh, “Sorry kiddo.” Megumi’s hair was ruffled up as though he was a child again. “We’re sorcerers, at some point it’s all going to go to hell in some way or another. Best to just let everything be fucked up, yeah?”
“I don’t want to live like that.” Megumi said, and his voice was bitter.
Gojo hushed again, and Megumi wished he had kept his mouth closed so everything would go back to normal, and Gojo would stop looking so far away.
“If I could help it, you wouldn’t have to. Don’t isolate yourself, okay Megumi? It will be hard to see the world you’re about to enter, but trying to maneuver it alone will only make it worse. Plus, this year’s first years are pretty cool, I think you’ll like them anyway. One’s actually a relative of yours” Gojo smiled down at him. “Everything will work out in the end.”
Megumi was silent with a lump stuck in his throat, and foggy eyes.
“Now come on, come home. It’s Christmas Eve, you know, and Suguru wanted to make cookies, so you’ll have to apologize to him. Cookies made by someone sad never taste as good.” Megumi was tugged up by the arm, and weight was flung over his shoulder.
He did not hate it.
-
A few months into his first year, Yuuji Itadori died.
Megumi watched as his heart was torn out, and he listened as the boy used his last words to tell Megumi to ‘live a long life.’
His soul felt as though it was being twisted and sucked out of him, and he could not fathom why until Satoru Gojo was standing in front of him, letting Megumi cry into his shirt. Without even realizing it, or with a hint of warning to himself he blurted it out.
“I loved him, Satoru. I really did.” And the white haired man’s grip tightened. The touch was so comforting, yet burned at the same time. He was angry to be consoled, because he was angry that the death had occurred in the first place. “I could have been stronger, I could have done something. I-”
“Never blame yourself for this, Megumi. Don’t even think about it.” It was firm, and it was painful to hear the wavering of Gojo’s voice.
Megumi shut up, he stopped his loud sobbing, and his stupid self blame. His fists balled into the fabric of Gojo’s shirt, and he hiccuped softly with his eyes screwed shut.
“I should have stayed away. I should’ve stopped myself from getting attached.” ‘Don’t isolate yourself.’ Gojo had said. What a load of self destructive bullshit.
The only reply he got was a big hand running up and down his back to soothe.
It hardly worked.
-
Gojo was an asshole, and Itadori was resilient enough to somehow withstand certain death. Even after feeling the torture of losing someone he loved, Megumi still could not distance himself from Itadori and he claimed he would.
He thought about Gojo and Geto, living together in harmony, and coexisting forever in a silent promise that was shown in the engagement rings that had been present on their fingers for the last five months. Just a bit before Megumi had met Yuuji.
“Why do you have those?” He had asked the first time he had noticed the silver bands. They were eating dinner, and Tsumiki gasped in excitement when she followed Megumi’s pointed finger.
“Are you getting married finally?” She asked with sparkling eyes.
“We did.” Suguru announced, and Satoru just nodded in agreement.
“Since when?” Megumi had never heard them talk about marriage, not even once. They did not need it. They were just them. Honestly, even the boyfriend title was overrated.
“I gave him that ring, and he gave me this ring. Last night.” Satoru smiled cheekily. And he waved his hand in the air like a happy child.
“Don’t think that’s quite how it works.” Megumi raised an eyebrow. “There’s legal stuff right? All you did was propose.”
“We don’t need court documents to finalize the fact that we aren’t going to break up for the rest of our lives. This is just an attempt to get random women on the street to stop giving my husband their phone numbers.” Suguru motioned to the ring.
“Suguru’s just jealous~” Gojo waved off Megumi’s ‘seriously?’ look. “And I already called him my husband when talking to other people anyway. I think everyone is under the impression that we are already married. Even the students.”
“Yet we’re the last ones to know.” Tsumiki muttered into her drink, and Gojo laughed.
“Sorry dear Tsumiki! Don’t worry, when you get married we’ll pay for the whole thing, so go crazy okay?” Megumi had never seen his sister look so happy before.
He wondered if he could have such a future with Yuuji. One where they were so intertwined that it was only natural for them to be together until their dying breaths. One where nobody ever expected anything other than Yuuji to be with Megumi, and Megumi to be with Yuuji.
His face heated and turned pink. He tried to pretend that he did not know Gojo was smirking at him knowingly.
-
“Do you think I am sabotaging myself?” He asked Gojo one day when the sky had turned bitter with cold again, and a pink haired boy was chatting happily across the way from them with a couple second years.
“Not at all. You’ve told him right?” Megumi had. He and Yuuji had been holding hands with sneaky smiles and giddy hearts for a while, and nothing had ever felt better.
“He’s going to be executed.” There was an end in sight. It was colder than any winter day could possibly be, and Megumi’s mind was numbing with gray as it came nearer and nearer.
Gojo stayed silent for a second, before glancing down at his silver ring. “In some other world, I killed Suguru, and I spent my life alone. And in this world, it could have been the same. I felt us coming to an end, and it felt more inevitable than I could manage.”
“But that didn’t happen.” Megumi argued.
“Because I didn’t let it.” And Gojo smirked at Megumi’s wide eyes. “And you and Yuuji can do the same. You just have to do what you can to control your own destiny. Fate is only a theory.”
Megumi gulped down the lump in his throat, and gripped a hand around his wrist. “I want him to be there with me through all of this. Even if I think sorcery is shitty, he makes it less so.”
“That’s how it goes.” Gojo smiled fully, and Megumi felt his own lips tug upwards. “Now all that’s left to do is hold on as tight as you can. And you’re easy to stick around with, Megumi. That I can say for sure.”
“Thank you, Satoru.” He said, and his eyes stuck on Yuuji and all his cheeriness. “Thank you both.”
A hand came up and ruffled his hair, it was big and warm, and a one digit had a smooth band on it, hard against his scalp.
“Any time Kiddo.”