Chapter Text
“I need a job.”
Gojo turns away from the counter slowly, frowning. He faces Megumi, looks him up and down, and raises an eyebrow.
“What?” Megumi asks.
Gojo crosses his arms on his chest, one hand under his chin. “I just never thought I’d hear that line from you, for many reasons.”
“What reasons?” Megumi always entertains this, whether he wants it or not. Whether Gojo annoys him or not. It’s a habit. It’s irresistible. Geto knows this, too. Shoko, same thing. You humor Gojo no matter what. Utahime doesn’t, but she’s a year older, so that may be helpful.
“Well, for starters, look at yourself.”
Megumi frowns. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, no, no. I don’t mean it in a bad way.” He waves a hand at Megumi, who doesn’t know what is supposed to be wrong with his appearance. He’s wearing black skinny jeans, black shirt with long sleeves and, over it, an MCR tee he thrifted one day with Shoko. He’s not even wearing eyeliner now, or the boots. “You look emo, basically. That’s what I mean. And you know I don’t care what you wear, and I even think you look cool, but the working environment is a strange place, Megumi. You’re gonna have trouble finding a job. I mean, these days the world progresses, sure, but- Why do you need a job in the first place?”
Megumi deadpans. “Why do people go to work, Gojo? To get money.”
Gojo pulls that face. It’s close to disappointment. He reaches across the counter for his wallet.
“I don’t want your money.”
Gojo looks up, eyebrows creased.
Megumi hates whenever money comes up between them. He didn’t mind it until some point. He was perfectly fine with spending all the money Gojo and, eventually, Geto would give him. And then he was 16, a year ago, and he realized, rather abruptly, what he had done, ten years earlier.
Basically, he emotionally manipulated the poor guy to adopt him. Not intentionally. Megumi really wanted this, but only at 16 did he realize what it looked like. Gojo was 22 at the time, still in college, and Megumi pulled the ‘I don’t wanna see you again’ and ‘I’ll run away from the orphanage and hide’ cards when Gojo had doubts about the adoption.
Megumi won’t take it back, of course. Not now, ten years later. Not when he grew to be a part of a family. But guilt has been bothering him lately.
“What do you need the money for, kid?”
“A… hobby. Maybe. I wanna try something,” Megumi says.
“And what’s wrong with my cash?”
“Nothing.” Megumi rolls his eyes. “But I don’t know if it’ll stick. If I’ll like it. I might drop it soon. I’m not gonna waste your money.”
“Have I not taught you anything over this decade?” Gojo mutters, opening the wallet anyway. “It’s just money, Megumi. It’s never wasted. It’ll come back, one way or another. And you’re 17. Whatever you wanna try, you should try.” He holds the waller back. “Unless it’s illegal, dangerous or-” He pauses again. “Nah, I trust you.” Closing the wallet, he hands it to Megumi. “Take as much as you need.”
“I’d really prefer to make that cash myself.”
Gojo frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you want to work or do you just not want to take my money?”
Megumi looks away. Gojo always knows somehow. He knows what’s in Megumi’s head before Megumi figures it out.
“Okay, I know,” Gojo says. “You don’t want me to know you’re spending my money on-”
Megumi cuts him off. “You’re about to say something related either to Hatsune Miku or porn, I’m not sure what mood you’re in. You know you won’t embarrass me with lines like these.”
“You’re so annoying.”
Megumi huffs a laugh.
Even Megumi has not learned to win with this guy, so he takes the wallet.
“In this case, I’m going out.”
“Will you show me that secret hobby?”
“Sure.” Maybe. One day.
~~
Megumi stalks through the music shop. Yuji stalks behind him, no clue what he’s looking for, but he’s only here because Megumi didn’t want to go alone. Megumi doesn’t go anywhere alone. Or rather, he doesn’t go anywhere without Yuji.
Yuji and Megumi couldn’t be more different, even if they were growing up together. They met at 5, in school, when Megumi still lived at the orphanage, and before he met Gojo. Megumi tried a lot of things in life, mostly thanks to being adopted by an insane guy who literally never said ‘no’, but only a few things stuck. Like music, reading books, obtaining whatever knowledge he came across, or what Gojo calls ‘being emo’. Yuji went down the path most popular among the band of adults they somehow grew up around - sports. Megumi believes it’s because Yuji had a stupid crush/idol situation when it comes to Utahime, back in the day when she was teaching him archery. Yuji always argues that if anything, it was more of an idol situation, but he never clarifies that.
But Yuji and Megumi still do everything together and go everywhere together, and if that ever changes, Megumi will die.
“This is not the store you usually go to for the records,” Yuji says. “What are we doing here?”
Gojo would immediately know. The IQ of this guy must be insane, or maybe he’s just really good at taking a detail and figuring the whole deal out. So if he told Gojo he needed money for an electric guitar, Gojo would figure it out in seconds.
You’re way more lowkey than this, he’d say, so whose attention are you trying to draw, huh? Then he’d add, Oh my god, wait, do you have a crush? I knew it. You have a crush, who is that? And then, because Megumi hangs out with one person, and he’s recently had a conversation about sexuality with both Gojo and Geto, Gojo would say, Wait, I know. I’ve seen you around him for the past ten years and I’m not stupid. It’s Yuji, isn’t it? And then he’d grin, because he’s so smart and because it would fascinate him that Megumi has a crush.
Thankfully, Yuji isn’t Gojo.
“An electric guitar,” Megumi says.
“Oh! Really? That’s so cool.” He pauses then, eyes locked on a dead point.
“What?”
Yuji looks at him, blinks twice and shakes his head. “Nothing. Come on. Let’s get that guitar.” With a hand on Megumi’s lower back, he urges them forward. Megumi holds his breath, toes curling at the smallest touches. He feels so stupid every time it happens, and yet he wants it to happen again, and again, and again.
Megumi buys whatever he has read he’d need - the guitar, an amp, cables, picks, extra strings and a tuner. Gojo’s card obviously doesn’t decline, but Megumi still feels weird when he pays. If Gojo was here, he’d put the card down without even checking the price, and Megumi still would feel weird.
He’ll have all of this delivered to his house in the next three hours, and because he doesn’t want Gojo picking his packages up, they head to Megumi’s.
“How’s your grandpa?”
Yuji hides his hands in the pocket of his jacket, as he always does to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers. Winter isn’t that cold this year. “He’s okay. I’m not sure for how long, but for now he’s fine.” He huffs then. “You know, we got a weird letter last week. I didn’t think it was serious so I didn’t tell anyone, but… I don’t know…”
“What letter?”
“It was signed ‘mom/daughter’.”
Meugmi’s eyes widen. “And you didn’t think it was important?”
“It’s probably a joke or something.” Yuji shrugs. “And if it’s not, what am I supposed to do? Invite her over? Come on.” He scoffs.
“Have you read it? What did it say?”
“Just… that she’s fine and she’s coming back to Japan and if she could see us. Like… the Japanese wasn’t that good, like a foreigner wrote it.”
Megumi can’t blame him for dismissing the idea. Yuji’s parents ‘disappeared’ one day. His grandpa knew what happened to them, but never told Yuji. He’d always say it wasn’t necessary for him to know. Yuji didn’t care, since they weren’t around anyway.
But it hardly sounds like a joke to Megumi. It probably doesn’t even sound like a joke to Yuji, he just doesn’t want to entertain the idea that all this time he’s had a mom somewhere out there.
“I think you should tell your grandpa,” Megumi says.
Yuij lets out a deep sigh. “Maybe.” He pulls a smile onto his face. “Hey, where did the guitar idea come from?”
Megumi isn’t going to force him to talk about a possible mother that wants to see him, but he’ll keep an eye out on Yuji. He’s got that tendency to take care of everyone and pretend there’s nothing bothering him ever. If Megumi didn’t insist, Yuji would just keep it all in.
“Just a random idea,” Megumi says. “I was listening to music and I thought it would be cool to try.”
Lies. Megumi was scrolling on Tumblr and he read a post, something about girls liking guys that play the guitar. Because he’s totally anonymous there, with a picture of Hatsune Miku as his profile pic, he asked, what about guys?
The answers flooded his notifications. Apparently, everyone likes guys that play the guitar.
Yes, that was the sole reason he decided to try. Don’t judge him, Gojo will do that once he figures it out.
~~
“Can we come in now?” Gojo asks from behind the door.
“Can you be patient?” Megumi asks.
“You know I can’t!”
Megumi sighs. He’s not ready. He’s not ready to go through a crush situation with Gojo as his basically-father.
“Fine, okay,” he says. No matter what he does, Megumi won’t be ready.
The door flies open. Gojo and Geto walk in, curious expressions on their faces as they scan the room, easily noticing the guitar set up.
Geto smirks at Gojo. “I won.”
“Of course you’d bet.” Megumi huffs a laugh.
“I had to use this opportunity. I knew it’d be a guitar right away,” he says.
It took Megumi and Geto a year, after the adoption, to come around. Geto held back more. Last year of college was difficult for him, and bringing up a child with Gojo didn’t make it any easier, but he stayed. Eventually, they started spending time alone. They had to, when Gojo went to work that Megumi once was insanely jealous about (Megumi wanted to be the only kid in Gojo’s life, and Gojo went and became a judo teacher for children), or when he had a competition.
Not that spending time alone magically smoothed things between Geto and Megumi.
All truly changed during one of Gojo’s competitions. He had to fly out to South Korea, so Geto and Megumi stayed alone. Megumi was 8. He didn’t want to bother Geto so he went onto a chair to get a book off the top shelf, and obviously he fell and broke his arm.
Megumi bawled, Geto panicked.
At the hospital, when they waited for some test results, Megumi’s arm in a cast, Geto asked, “Why didn’t you ask me to take the book down?”
Megumi shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Would you ask Satoru if he was home?”
Megumi didn’t answer. He would, but he didn’t want to make Geto feel bad.
Geto felt bad anyway.
“You’re not only important to Satoru, you know?” He muttered. Megumi looked up, eyes wide. Geto locked their eyes and sighed. “It’s hard for me to be like him. He grew so fond of you from the start, and even if he didn’t know what to do, he took you in because he cared about you. You know… I was the one who told him not to do it at first, because I was worried it’d mean I’d have to be a dad, too, and woah, did that scare me.” He huffed, fingers tight on the edge of the plastic chair, hair strands falling out of the tired out bun. “I’m still scared. I feel like I know nothing whenever I have to take care of you. But I want to do it. I’m just worried I’m not gonna be like him, and you’re not gonna want me around.”
“I’ll ask you for help next time,” Megumi said.
Geto huffed a laugh and smiled, and Megumi realized he said it exactly to make him smile.
Megumi started to grow comfortable around him. Back when he was a child, he’d know he’s comfortable with someone as soon as he was able to fall asleep around them.
There is a part of Megumi that vibes well with a part of Geto. Gojo is some sort of a buoy Geto would sink without. No one told him that, Megumi figured it out on his own. Megumi would have sunk without his own buoys. They bonded over everything that bothered them over the years, and grew closer year by year.
“Why guitar?” Gojo asks, picking it up. He examines the instrument, clearly clueless about how it works. “You’re way more lowkey than this, so whose attention are you trying to draw, huh?”
No way. No way. There is no way Megumi knows him this well.
“Oh my god, wait, do you have a crush?” He beams at Megumi. “I knew it. You have a crush, who is that?”
Megumi waits, mortified, just to see if he maybe needs a Gojo-rehab.
Gojo’s eyes widen. “Wait, I know. I’ve seen you around him for the past ten years and I’m not stupid. It’s Yuji, isn’t it?” His smile widens, eyes crinkle.
He needs a Gojo-rehab.
Megumi turns to Geto. “Help me.”
“Why?” Geto smiles wider. “I’m entertained.”
“So, like, you guys are horrible parents,” Megumi says, pulling the guitar out of Gojo’s hand. “We won’t be talking about my crush.”
“Why not?” Gojo whines.
“I bought a guitar, didn’t I? I’m about to learn all the simp love songs known to mankind. You’ll know enough about my feelings if you just listen.”
Geto laughs. “I’ll go and order some ear plugs.”
Gojo doesn’t look as satisfied, but he gives in. “I guess this will be enough. Unless you wanna talk. Then I’m all ears.”
“Sure. And if I’m heartbroken and need to cry?”
“Then you can call Shoko,” Gojo says on his way out. Megumi huffs a laugh. If Megumi shed half a tear, Gojo would be ready with his shoulder for Megumi to cry on. He’s not fooling anyone.
~~
Playing the guitar is easy. It’s not the first time Megumi has done it. In middle school, he played the acoustic guitar for two years. He’s a little rusty, and an electric guitar feels a bit different, but he gets the hang of it. It feels natural after three weeks of daily practice. Then, because Gojo keeps asking about the simp love songs, Megumi learns his first simp anthem, She’s so high. The lyrics are a bit inaccurate, but whenever possible, Megumi changes the pronouns to his liking.
He comes to speak to me
I freeze immediately
'Cause what he says sounds so unreal
'Cause somehow I can't believe
That anything should happen
I know where I belong
And nothing's gonna happen, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
“Why is this so depressing?!” Gojo yells across the house.
Megumi keeps the door open when he plays.
“ You said I’m emo, not me!”
The next song Megumi learns is Your Song. Just to mess with him, he makes sure to sing extra badly.
“Do you want me to sign you up for singing lessons?!” Gojo yells across the house again, when Megumi’s done. He signs it again, extra-extra badly.
From the other side of the house, Geto’s laugh reaches him.
Moments like that soothe Megumi’s worries. When Gojo jokes and Geto laughs, it’s hard to worry that he messed up their lives.
The next song is Can’t Help Falling in Love. When Megumi keeps his door open he can see the living room quite well, and as he plays the song without yet singing the lyrics, he can see Gojo and Geto in the living room, swinging to the sound together.
Megumi looks away and smiles to himself.
Gojo and Geto are not the only ones he plays for, obviously.
“Wow,” Yuji mumbles, after staring at Megumi for 27 silent seconds. Megumi counted.
“What?”
“You’re… wow.”
Megumi huffs, pulling the string slowly, thinking of a song to fall into. A dumbass that he is, he’s only been practicing the very simp songs. Without the lyrics, though, Yuji can’t know what he’s playing.
He sits on Megumi’s desk, legs swinging back and forth. His shorts cut off at his knees, and Megumi has only recently figured out that he’s into muscular calves. Legs. Bodies.
He figured it out while hanging out at Yuji’s track and field team practice. They played some games for fun and divided each other into shirts/no shirts teams. Megumi glanced once, no thoughts in his head. Glanced twice, a single inappropriate thought in his head. Something with how skinny he was in comparison and how easy it would be for one of these guys to throw him. Third glance and he realized all those glances went not to the shirtless team but very specifically to Megumi’s best friend.
And then his feelings awakened and now Megumi is playing an electric guitar.
Physical attraction was probably the last of all for him. Before, there were the hugs that felt like home, and the fact that every birthday wish Yuji would spend on Megumi, which he told him when he turned 14.
Megumi has seen love every day for the past ten or more years, because every adult-presenting person that had ever taken care of him has been stupidly in love with whoever was the lucky person. Geto, Gojo, Shoko, Utahime. Even when the other isn’t around, Megumi could tell by the way they spoke of their partners.
So figuring out that with Yuji in his life the sun keeps shining wasn’t that hard.
“Are you gonna play somewhere?”
“No,” Megumi mumbles, trying to get the sound right. He tunes one of the strings. “Just for you, and Gojo and Geto are forced to listen. Shoko and Utahime by extension, when they are around.”
Megumi glances up just to see Yuji keep his gaze away from him as he smiles. The smile is weird. Like the answer pleases him. Just for you.
It’s not easy falling for someone you’ve had around your whole life. It’s a change. Changes don’t always go according to plan. If Megumi were to lose Yuji because of his feelings, it would destroy him. But he doesn’t want to give up the feelings at all. Liking Yuji makes him too happy.
He needs to test the waters first.
“Why are you still calling them by their names?” Yuji asks.
Megumi stops playing.
There’s a small smile on Yuji’s lips, like he knows what’s up. He probably knows. Megumi hasn’t been exactly secretive about his feelings towards this little family that happened. Not around Yuji, the only person he felt he could have his doubts around.
“What am I supposed to call them? Dad and father? I’ve called them Gojo and Geto since I met them.”
“Yeah, I know, but… even when you talk about them, you don’t say ‘dad’ or ‘father’. It’s always guardians.”
“It’s just a word.”
“Mhm, for you.”
Megumi knows this. Gojo would probably throw a party if Megumi ever called him ‘dad’. He threw a party when Megumi, age 8, gave him a father’s day card. When he was 9, he made two father’s day cards. Yes, made. He poured his heart and soul into those pieces of paper that still hang on the fridge in the same house he moved into all those years ago.
But Megumi did say, “Happy father’s day, Gojo,” and he feels like it cancels itself out a little.
What else are they to Megumi, if not dads? School events, fevers, nightmares, tantrums, birthday parties, dinners, breakfasts, scraped knees. They’ve done it all and more. Hell, they gave up their early and late 20s to bring Megumi up. He knows there has been a hell lot to learn. The one thing he can do to show he’s grateful for it is to call them ‘dad’. He should. He could.
But what if it freaks them out? It would freak Geto out, that’s for sure. And what if it makes Gojo realize that he’d never even wanted to be a dad, and it’s all Megumi’s fault?
Megumi looks at Yuji. “I’ll say ‘dad’ to them both if you tell your grandpa about the letter.”
Yuji looks away, chewing on his lower lip. “Low blow, Megumi.”
“Why? What are you scared of?” He puts the guitar away and gets off the chair.
“What the hell would I even do with her if she turned out to be real? I don’t even know why she’s gone. I don’t know what she looks like. I don’t know her.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Don’t you want to?”
Megumi pauses, nervously rolls his fingers. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just because your father didn’t come back doesn’t mean I’m glad my mother might be trying to.”
Megumi gulps, avoiding Yuji’s gaze at all cost. “Low blow,” he mutters.
A silent moment stretches. They don’t fight. Not often. Every fight makes Megumi feel unsteady on his feet.
“I have to go,” Yuji says. Megumi doesn’t stop him.
When the front door closes in the distance, Megumi crumbles onto his bed and closes his eyes.
Is that what it is? Is the wound his father left still wide open?
Is this why he can’t call Gojo and Geto ‘dads’? Because a part of him is still fucking waiting for that asshole of a man to come back? Even if he did, Megumi would tell him to go to hell, but maybe it’s about the act of coming back itself. The lack of it still bothers Megumi, no matter how many years have passed. And it’s yet another thing that makes him feel guilty. How can he even be thinking about this guy when Gojo and Geto have been going out of their way to make up for his absence for the past ten years?
He has a thought, very brief, to run away and disappear, like he once did back in the orphanage. But even then he hid in the most obvious place, where he knew Gojo would find him if he looked. He’d do the same thing now, because he just wants someone to be there for him.
The sunny afternoon turns into an evening before Gojo and Geto come back home.
“Megumi!” Gojo calls out. “Come here for a second!”
When Megumi crawls out of the room, Gojo throws something into his hands, grinning like the happiest kid.
“Do you remember these? Can you believe they’re back in production? I haven’t seen them in almost ten years.”
Megumi watches a package of gummy worms and grits his teeth. They’ve eaten so many of those before and right after Gojo adopted him that half a year after Megumi moved in Gojo had to take him to a dentist.
It’s silly, and very much in Gojo’s style to remember gummy worms they ate back then, but these are also the same gummy worms Megumi bought Yuji for the first birthday party with Gojo and his friends, and it’s all a little too much for Megumi.
“Hey,” Geto calls out. “Is everything okay?”
“Do gummy worms not fit your emo image?”
Geto smacks Gojo’s arm. “Be serious.” He comes closer to Megumi and drops a hand onto his shoulder. “What happened, Megumi?”
Without realizing what rabbit hole he’s jumping into, Megumi says, “I had a fight with Yuji. I mean, it wasn’t a fight, but I did something stupid, and he said something shitty, except that it wasn’t shitty, it just called me out, but I got mad and now I feel stupid.”
“What did you say?” Gojo asks. The two of them pull Megumi to the kitchen table, the table of serious conversations. He might have kept it all in, because his guilt concerns them entirely, but there’s no denying that it was Gojo who helped Megumi make sense out of every small and big issue he’s ever had. Geto is always there to make sure Gojo takes it seriously, but it’s always Gojo taking what Megumi says like scattered puzzles and putting them together into a clear picture.
“There’s a… situation,” Megumi says. “And I’m counting on you to keep it to yourselves, okay?”
“Of course,” Geto says. “What is it?”
“Someone who claims to be Yuji’s mom sent them a letter. She wants to meet again, but he keeps the letter a secret from his grandfather and refuses to entertain the idea. I said… Well, I said I’d do a thing if he agreed to meet her. And then he said…” Megumi falls silent. Now there’s no avoiding the topic of his father, the word ‘dad’ that never passed between Megumi and his actual guardians, and bringing up what Yuji said.
“What?” Gojo asks.
“I don’t know if I want to talk to you about it.”
“You can tell us everything.”
“Yeah, not this.” Or maybe saying this is a key to solving his guilt problem. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Yuji thinks I’m convincing him to meet his possible mom because I’m mad that my father never came back.”
Megumi doesn’t dare look up. Silence stretches and stretches, and he scratches around his black-painted nails.
“Are you?” Gojo asks. Does he sound sad or is Megumi making it up?
“No,” he answers right away, but doesn’t believe his own words. “Look, I don’t want him to come back, obviously.” He looks up, can hardly stand looking into Gojo’s eyes, and locks his gaze at the table. “I don’t. But I don’t know if I’ve ever accepted the fact that he promised he’d come back and didn’t. Even if I know he won’t, and I don’t want him to.”
Silence. More silence.
Megumi looks up, but this time at Geto. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Well, I feel like there’s something else on your mind,” Geto says.
“There’s a lot on my mind.” Megumi sighs.
“We’re listening.”
He glances at Gojo. His eyes are on Megumi, waiting, but his locked fingers keep moving. This is more about him than Geto. It was Gojo’s decision to adopt him. Megumi didn’t impose anything on Geto, if anything - Gojo did.
“Would you have taken me in if I never came up with it?” Megumi asks.
Gojo stops moving. “What?”
“If I never said I hated the orphanage and wanted to go with you, would you still come up with an idea? Or would this never happen?”
“Of course it would happen,” Gojo says. “I don’t know when I’d figure it out, but I would, eventually.”
“You can’t know that,” Megumi says. “For all we know, you’d never take me in if I didn’t force you into it.”
“What? Megumi, what are you talking about? I wasn’t forced .”
“Yeah, sure, because everyone willingly gives up their early 20s to raise someone else’s child.”
“Uh, no, not everyone, but I did.”
“Sure. Willingly.” Megumi scoffs. “I don’t believe that.”
“Just because you brought it up first doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done it,” Gojo says. “What the hell are you even thinking, Megumi?”
“That I messed up your life!” He looks away as soon as it’s out there. “Would you have a damn child if it wasn’t for me? No. You would-”
“If it wasn’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,” Gojo says, his voice strange. Not really mad, but without the usual cheeriness. “Yes, we wouldn’t have a child if it wasn’t for you. I wouldn’t step a foot near the orphanage, you know? But we have you, and stop spewing fucking nonsense, Megumi.”
“Satoru-”
Gojo puts his hand up, silencing Geto. He keeps talking to Megumi. “Do you think I took pity on you? That I met a kid without parents and felt altruist? No, the hell, I met you and I thought, holy shit, what an asshole. I’ll do everything to make him like me . A few months later, I was ready to give up everything and everyone to have you. And not because you asked. So if you ever thought I regretted doing it, then you are so wrong that it literally pisses me off.”
Megumi takes a breath in. What is he supposed to say now?
Gojo gets off his chair, rounds the table and hauls Megumi up with ease. The hug is so tight Megumi can’t breathe for a moment. Megumi might have grown in height, and now, if Gojo rounds his shoulders a little, Megumi can put his chin on his shoulder. But he’s still half the size of Gojo in width.
“Megumi, listen to me,” Gojo says, not moving an inch. “I did it once, I’d do it a million times over. I’d give up everything and everyone to have you in my life. I’ve loved every moment of it.”
Megumi closes his eyes and holds back the tears. His eyeliner will smudge.
“I was so happy when you asked me to take you home. You have no idea. Don’t ever think that you’ve made my life worse. You’re my biggest blessing, Megumi.”
“Stop talking or I’m gonna cry.”
Gojo laughs, leaning back. “Oh, no, no crying. You’re gonna yell at me that your eyeliner is smudged.”
Relief rushes over him, along with all the memories.
“Thanks… dad.”
Gojo stares at him and doesn't move. His eyes fill with the child-like wonder he still has.
Megumi looks away. It’s too much after all those years. Gojo is special to Megumi in a special way. He was the first adult Megumi trusted with his life, and then, as scared as he might have been, the absolute perfection of a parent. Not perfect, whatsoever, but that’s not what Megumi expected anyway. Gojo made mistakes, and Megumi said words he didn’t mean, and they fumbled at times, but Megumi never doubted that if he turned to Gojo, he’d find safety and security, guidance and support, a chance to live fully and be whoever he wanted to be.
Megumi turns to Geto, who’s looking at them fondly. “I can’t call both of you dad. What do-”
“You can,” Gojo says, back to the cheery attitude. “Dad is fine, we're just gonna ask which one every time.”
“You just wanna hear the word more often, even if it’s not to you,” says Geto.
Gojo ignores it, which only confirms Geto’s right, and waves at him to come here. He looks at Megumi. “One family hug. Just one, please.”
“Just one. I need to keep my emo image.” Megumi doesn’t give a shit about his emo image, not when he drowns in the feeling of not being alone in this world.
Later, when Megumi is alone, eyeliner washed off for bed, a knock echoes in his room. Gojo takes a step inside.
“For a sec?”
Megumi nods, sitting cross-legged on one side of the huge bed. It used to be so much bigger when Megumi was just a kid. He's always loved it. The bed at the orphanage squeaked and screeched, the mattress was dented and full of springs digging into your body.
Megumi remembers the first night in this bed like it was yesterday. He remembers it every time he lays down for sleep. It was the second night in the house - on the first, Megumi and Yuji slept leaning against Gojo on the couch. The second night… Megumi tossed and turned, unfamiliar and worried it was all going to disappear, but so happy to be lying in a bed that was supposed to be his own. He tossed and turned and cried, sat up and watched the room, lay back down and took it all in. He had barely slept that night.
Gojo plops next to him, bending legs at the knees to fit. Sometimes they did that. The talks. More or less serious. Usually, it was the kitchen table, sometimes their rooms. When Megumi was figuring out his sexuality, he sat like that between Gojo and Geto on their bed.
“I thought about it for a while,” Gojo says. “And… yeah, I think it makes sense that you're not indifferent about your biological father. It's… do you remember what he looked like?”
“Vaguely,” Megumi says. “His hair didn't stick out like mine does. It was flat. He had a scar here,” he says, pointing at the side of his lips. The image of this guy is blurry in Megumi’s mind, but when he focuses, he can make out a face. Every time he does that, it’s a little bit more distorted.
Gojo presses his lips into a line. “It's fine if you feel all sorts of things about him. And if you wanna talk about it, we can, you know? I'm not going to be… mad or sad about it. Neither is Suguru.”
“Okay,” Megumi says quietly, pinching the sheets.
Gojo pulls himself up and shuffles closer, only to wrap Megumi in a hug that fits Megumi under his chin - which he conveniently rests on Megumi's head. But Megumi likes this. Ever since he met Gojo, he has liked the hugs. It’s all safety and comfort. As a kid, when he could feel that Gojo was there, holding his hand or carrying him, Megumi felt invincible.
“Alright,” Gojo says on his way out. “Sleep well. Once you're done playing the same five songs on the guitar.”
Megumi smiles.
~~
Megumi gave it a day for both of them to cool down, and the next day he’s on his way to talk to Yuji. He’s not mad anymore, if he ever was. He just felt called out on something he didn’t want to feel.
A bit of snow falls as Megumi walks down the street. Yuji waits under the bus stop, empty right now, leaning against the back wall. He keeps his eyes down, as Megumi slips under the roof and stands next to Yuji, with no space between them. He never likes space between them, but blame it on Yuji who conditioned Megumi to expect physical closeness.
As if on cue, Yuji moves his feet forward and rests his head on Megumi’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”
Megumi leans his cheek against fluffy pink hair. “I’m sorry for trying to convince you to meet her.”
Megumi’s nose is cold, his left cheek warm.
“I told my grandpa about the letter.”
“I called Gojo ‘dad’.”
As befits lifelong best friends, they spring into a hug at the same time. Megumi feels alive again. He could stay like this forever.
“Did he freak out?” Yuji asks.
“He held it together, but I think he freaked out when I wasn’t looking. And inside for, like, six hours.”
Yuji laughs. “What about Geto?”
“They decided I should call them both ‘dad’ and they’ll just figure out which one I need at the moment.”
“Sounds like Gojo’s idea.”
Megumi leans back, but not all that far. His arms are still around Yuji’s neck, and their faces are so close that it knocks breath out of Megumi’s lungs.
“What did your grandpa say?”
Yuji glances to the side with a sigh. He’s a lot more cheerful, usually, so it’s always clear to see when something makes him struggle.
“Let’s go somewhere. I’ll tell you about it.”
Ever since Megumi met Gojo as a child, Gojo would take the two of them to coffee shops and restaurants almost everyday. They have a list of their favorites now, and they huddle at the back of one of the coffee shops with steaming hot drinks. They never sit facing each other, always pull the chairs around so that they can sit side by side.
This time they have the sofa seat, so they both take it, leaving two extra chairs free. Megumi turns a bit to Yuji, his coffee burning his palms.
“So. Grandpa was… uhm… how should I put it… delighted.”
“Seriously?”
Yuji nods. “Apparently, the letter is not a joke. The story goes that my dad died, and I was basically a lookalike, even as a baby, and she couldn’t stand it so she moved abroad. Then she got sick and had to get some treatment. She’s all great now and she’s coming back to Japan.”
“Why didn’t she contact you earlier?”
“Grandpa says it’s because of the father thing. Grandpa’s my dad’s dad, and he said he understood how she felt, and that it was hard for him, too, but he took it upon himself to raise me.”
“So she’s coming back and he’s glad?”
“He doesn’t blame her for leaving. He’s glad to hear she’s all good. He thinks I should at least meet her.”
“Do you want to?”
Yuji shrugs. “For now it sounds like I was a burden to everyone around.”
“Not for me, for sure.”
“I know that.” He sighs softly. “Megumi. Can you be there when I meet her?”
“So you will.”
“She will sleep at the house, so one day I will probably have to.”
“I’ll be there, don’t worry.” Megumi takes a sip of still-too-hot coffee. “I can distract her with my guitar skills.”
“With the three songs you can play.”
“I’ll learn Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if you want.”
With a laugh, Yuji says, “Do you remember the xylophone I had in elementary school?”
“You playing this song on a xylophone is still giving me nightmares.”
“Nah, I bet this is the exact moment you got into music. I’m your inspiration, Megumi.”
He takes another sip, before he says something sappy, like confirming the fact that Yuji probably is his inspiration behind a lot of things in life.
“When is she coming?”
Yuji closes his eyes and drops his head back. “It’s tomorrow.”
“That’s what you get for keeping that damn letter to yourself. Do you want me to bring the rest?”
“Would you?”
Megumi takes his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll text the group chat.” Megumi doesn’t really have two dads. He has two dads and two moms, and they all have a group chat with Megumi that’s active way too often for four thirty-year-olds.
Megumi: i expect everyone in here to make time tomorrow at 5pm
Megumi: you are needed
Shoko: damn kid i had a smoke break scheduled for 5pm, you’re making my life difficult
Utahime: time for what?
Megumi: so there’s a situation
Megumi: we’re meeting yuji’s mom tomorrow
Megumi called me dad<3: tomorrow?????????????????
Megumi: when the hell did you change your name
Megumi called me dad<3: i changed Suguru’s too!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dad#2: tell yuji we’ll be there
Shoko: hold on did you say YUJI’S MOM
Utahime: what do you mean ‘mom’, you guys know me already :(
Yuji smiles at that. “I should have gotten adopted when it was time.”
“Can you actually imagine that? These four would be horribly insufferable.”
“They’d probably have some parental battles, like, who’s better at shit. Especially Gojo and Utahime.”
Megumi has always known that through the hardest days, Yuji would be there. He wonders if Yuji knows it goes both ways.
“Hey.”
He looks up at Megumi. “Hey?”
“I’ve got you. Always. No matter what’s going on.”
Yuji huffs. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that stressed.”
“I would be, too, if my father suddenly decided to visit me. Then I’d probably punch him.”
“You would probably ask me. You’re too skinny to punch anyone successfully.”
“It doesn’t have to hurt him. It’s about the gesture.”
Yuji laughs. His hand lands in Megumi’s hair, making it even messier than it usually is. “I’m so glad to have you.”
Megumi melts a little.
~~
Yuji’s grandpa looks as displeased with this amount of people as always. He probably doesn’t realize all these people are here for Yuji rather than to meet his mother. Although curiosity, at least in the group chat, has been running high since morning.
“Don’t you dare say anything stupid,” Megumi says to Gojo. “He’s worried enough as it is.”
“Don’t worry, kid. I can be serious when I need to be.”
Doubtful, but Megumi has no choice but to trust him, because the doorbell rings. Yuji’s at Megumi’s side in one second, almost gluing himself to Megumi.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” he says, as his grandpa goes to open the door.
On Yuji’s other side is Utahime, the closest thing to a teacher or guardian he’s ever had besides his grandpa. There was also Nanami when Yuji was a kid, but the more self-sufficient Yuji became, the busier Nanami was. Now he’s in some corporate job, catching up with Yuji every once in a while.
A conversation is happening at the door. Yuji’s foot is tapping the floor, breaking the silence in the room that’s perfectly still. Megumi is starting to feel the nerves, too.
Grandpa enters the room. Behind him, instead of a woman, is an absolutely huge man that resembles Yuji a little too much. Megumi’s eyes widen.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Yuji asks.
This man’s lines are all sharper. He’s taller and bigger than Yuji, but their hair is the same and their faces seem to be built in a very similar way. One could mistake them for brothers. Could ?
“Yeah, so,” the man at the door says. His voice is unnecessarily deep. “Kaori’s plans changed a bit, but I was still coming to Tokyo, and she asked me to let everyone know that she’s not-”
“Who are you?” Yuji cuts him off. His eyebrows are creased, fists tight at his sides, voice at the verge of an outburst. One or another.
“Ah. It appears that I’m your uncle. Ryomen Sukuna,” he says. “Damn, kid. You look just like your dad.” He steps closer. “Holy shit, almost identical.”
Yuji swats his hand away, when Ryomen Sukuna tries to touch his hair, and steps back.
“Yuji,” his grandpa scolds.
Megumi, who usually prides himself in understanding Yuji best, has no idea what triggered this reaction. The fact that there are more family members hiding from him, or maybe the fact that his mother didn’t actually come. Megumi knows it himself. He would punch his biological father if he showed up now, but a part of Megumi would feel something else. Relief, maybe. Even if Megumi were to kick him out, he would be relieved that he kept the promise.
Megumi is about to do something, or say something - anything that would make it a little bit easier on Yuji. It was so easy when they were kids. When something was difficult, Yuji would throw his arms around Megumi. Only now does Megumi realize that those things usually were difficult for Megumi. Yuji had it easier, and Megumi was grateful that at least one of them did.
Megumi doesn’t know what to do now, especially when everyone is looking at them.
He doesn’t get a chance to try. Yuji mutters something under his breath and leaves the house, the door slammed with such force that it makes Megumi’s eyes snap shut.
The next in line of Ryomen Sukuna is Megumi. What is he supposed to do? This guy seems like a weirdo and a delinquent at the same time. No one knows what kind of person he is. Get drunk as he watches a baseball game? Drive his nephew to baseball practices? Disappear for years because he got arrested?
“You’re his friend or something?” he eventually asks, pointing a finger over his shoulder where Yuji just disappeared.
“Mhm.”
He looks around the room. “Okay, there’s a lot of you. I didn’t expect that . Y’all friends with Kaori or something?”
“I’m gonna check up on Yuji,” Megumi says, ditching this incredibly weird interaction. He throws Gojo a glance, and Gojo nods, the look on his face saying, I’ll handle that, don’t worry.
He’s at the door when he hears Gojo comment, "They've been best friends since childhood. Although Megi has a little crush-"
"Gojo!"
"What happened to dad ?!"
Megumi rolls his eyes, leaving every veteran of their antics with a confused Sukuna. Only when the door closes behind him, Megumi realizes Gojo used a new nickname for him. He’s used to ‘Megs’, and even to an occasional ‘Gumi’. ‘Megi’ is new. Damn, it was sweet.
Megumi slips his arms through the sleeves of a jacket that turns out to be Geto's. He follows fresh footsteps in the snow that lead him around the corner and to some hardware store, now closed. It's not late, but the sun has dipped, street lights making the snow shimmer. He finds Yuji crouched by the wall of the store, hands clasped behind his head, hidden from the world.
Megumi takes the jacket off again and slowly comes closer. Besides them, no one else is around. Megumi puts the jacket over Yuji's shoulder and crouches next to him.
"Hey…"
Yuji ruffles his hair and lifts his head. He looks as tired as never before. Megumi wants to do anything that would make it easier.
“What is that supposed to be, Megumi?” he asks. “How many family members do I have that I don’t know of? And why do they all think they can just… barge in and be all friendly with me just because we’re blood-related?”
“No one can force you to welcome them in,” Megumi says. “Even your grandpa.”
"I just… I don't want things to change. I'm fine with how it is now, without my mother and weird uncles. I don't care what my uncle does, or what my mother does, if she ever comes here."
"It's okay, Yuji." Megumi shuffles around to crouch not next to him but in front of him. He puts his palms on Yuji's knees for balance.
Yuji drops his head and rests his forehead on Megumi’s hands. "I hate changes, Gumi."
Megumi is used to them. Parents changed, schools change, he changes.
But if Yuji hates changes, Megumi can't imagine how their relationship could ever change. They've always been best friends. Trying to be more is an absurd idea.
Megumi has been stupid. But he'll live with the unrequited feelings. Everything to keep Yuji by his side.
It’s not about him now, anyway.
“Let’s go back,” Megumi says. “It’s cold.”
“Take your jacket back, dumbass.”
“No.” Megumi stands and reaches his hand out. “I’m gonna be with you all the time. And if you want, you can sleep at my house tonight.
When Yuji lets himself be pulled up - although Megumi struggles and Yuji laughs - neither lets go of the other’s hand. They walk back with their fingers loosely intertwined, and Megumi’s heart beats louder and faster.
Back at Yuji’s house, he pretends the redness on his cheeks is because of the cold.
Ryomen Sukuna assimilates into their weird group, but he still looks out of place. Even when everyone is kind enough to try and include him, the strain in the air is so obvious. Yuji stays out of it until, inevitably, Sukuna addresses him.
"So, how is it going, kid?" he asks, practically unfazed by Yuji's earlier outburst and current glaring. "Do you have a girlfriend or something?"
"Why would you assume I'm heterosexual? Are you homophobic?" Yuji is clearly trying to pick a fight.
"Hell no," Sukuna says. He moves his jacket around. "I got these from the kids I trained back in America." Megumi notices them only now, but the left side of his jacket is full of messily sewn-on queer flags.
"Trained?" Megumi asks.
"Baseball. Not that I'm a pro player but I know enough."
"Hey, we taught kids baseball once, too!" Gojo chimes in. "That's how I met Megumi."
"Megumi." Sukuna looks at him. "So you're not his actual kid?"
Megumi's eyes widen. "I do not even look like him."
"Oh, no, you do," he says. "If your hair color was the same, it would be quite obvious."
"This… is the best thing I've heard in my life," Gojo says. "You heard it, Megumi?"
"You're gonna have to forget you've ever heard that," Megumi says.
"Alright, let me rephrase that," Sukuna says. He just looks massive no matter how he sits. Right now, he leans his arms on his knees, and hardly fits in the armchair. "How is it going, kid?"
"I'm not a kid," Yuji says.
Sukuna sighs. "Alright. I see. You know, you don't have to like me or anything like that."
"Thank you for permission."
"Yuji," his grandpa scolds again. "You could at least be kinder to your family."
"Family." Yuji scoffs, on a quest to make this the most insufferable family reunion in history. "I'm almost 18 and the only family member I've known until tonight was you, Grandpa. I still don't even know what my parents looked like. Why am I supposed to be kind to someone who shows up here like that, trying to be my family."
"No, he's right," Sukuna says. "And it's cool. I know I haven't been around. There's no reason to pretend."
“Maybe… we’ll head back home now,” Geto says.
“Go pack,” Megumi tells Yuji. Without another word or glance at anyone, Yuji walks to his room. Everyone is once again watching Megumi. “What? We decided on a sleepover tonight weeks ago.”
Gojo gives him a look. You didn’t.
Megumi answers, also with a look. Of course we didn’t. Read the room.
Gojo makes a face. Oh, I see.
Back at home, after the very silent car ride, Yuji is the first one to speak.
“Sorry for that.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I didn’t even ask if it’s okay, I just… I didn’t…”
“Yuji.” Gojo ruffles his hair. “And what did I tell you when you were a kid?”
Yuji watches him with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes. “I wish I had memory that good, seriously, but I don’t remember.”
“Gojo keeps a diary of every conversation with us, don’t worry.”
“I do not - this is beside the point. What I said is that you’re always welcomed here, Yuji, and it didn’t change. So don’t even ask. Just come around whenever you need to. Or want to. Megumi will be happy.”
Megumi holds back a swear word.
The line itself sounds innocent, but the tone is so clear. Thank God, once again, that Yuji doesn’t catch it.
For the rest of the evening, they hang out in Megumi’s room. Megumi strums his guitar lazily, with the volume turned low. At some point, Yuji, hugging one of the pillows, falls silent and glues his eyes to Megumi.
“The guitar fits you,” he says, quiet, as if not to disturb the flow of the song. It’s ‘ Can’t Help Falling In Love’ again. “Doesn’t it make you stressed when I watch?”
“No. You can watch,” Megumi says. Wasn’t it the whole point of getting a damn guitar?
Yuji watching doesn’t stress him out, but every once in a while Megumi glances up and catches the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, but very soft.
At some point, the door to his room flies open.
Gojo sticks his head in. “It’s 1am,” he says, looking at Megumi.
“Don’t you go to sleep at, like, 3?”
“Yes, but you’ve been playing the same song for the past two hours.”
“I like this song.” Megumi gives him the look. Gojo knows this song very well. He probably already guessed why Megumi is playing it. Gojo answers with his own look, something like: you’re gonna play that song for the rest of your life or are you gonna tell him?
When and how the hell did they master telepathic communication?
Megumi needs him gone, so he pulls the card he knows will work. Besides, he’s still trying to get used to the word. “I like this song, dad, so get used to it.”
Gojo sucks a deep breath in. Then he growls at the back of his throat. Megumi smiles under his breath.
“You could ask me to overthrow the government with this, and I’d listen.”
“Can you overthrow the government, dad?”
On his way out, Gojo says, “Sure, give me a week.” He gives Yuji a smile and disappears.
“I feel like you two never change.” Yuji huffs, lying in Megumi’s bed.
The room is way too big, and it puts them way too far. Megumi unplugs the guitar and lets it rest for now. With the lights already dimmed, he drops onto his side of the bed, ankles crossed and arms under his head.
This is enough. This will always have to be enough.
“We’ll never change either, right?” Yuji asked, voice hushed.
Megumi rolls his head to look at his best friend. They’ve already changed, because Megumi can’t look at him without wanting things that best friends don’t do, but Yuji doesn’t have to know about it.
“Of course,” Megumi says. He looks back at the ceiling, closes his eyes and adds, “We’ll never change.”
His eyes shoot open when Yuji throws an arm around Megumi’s waist and easily yanks him closer, putting his head on Megumi’s chest. Megumi forces himself to breathe, even if it’s awkward, because in this position Yuji will know the second Megumi’s heart starts to speed or when his lungs go crazy. His toes curl instead, and his throat tightens, and one day he might as well go insane, because what else is left for him?