Chapter Text
October, 2021
“You know… I- I think it’s gotten too hard.” His throat hurts, forcing tears back and words out. “... Don’t you?”
He can’t hear anything but Yuuji’s soft breathing on the other end of the line. The silence stretches out between them, making Megumi feel small and alone. Then, after too many seconds, Yuuji sighs heavily, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
Megumi’s heart clenches. Yuuji sounds so tired. Like someone has assigned him a year’s work of assignments due in one week. As if tonnes of lead has been dropped onto his shoulders, and he’s expected to carry it all. As if he is all alone to deal with all the things that’s burdening him. Worst of all, Megumi realises, this isn’t something new. Yuuji has been like this for weeks. How hasn’t he picked up on it earlier? Has he really been that self absorbed?
Megumi sniffs. “So…” but the sentence is left unfinished.
So what now?
This is exactly what he’d been afraid of. Exactly what he’d lost sleep over those weeks before the move. Why the fuck has his nightmares been realised? It isn’t fair to him, but most of all, it isn’t fair to Yuuji.
Yuuji, who’s done nothing wrong.
Yuuji, who’s always been there for Megumi regardless of the situation and context - who always puts Megumi before himself.
Yuuji, who Megumi loves so fucking, mind-and-body-numbingly much.
“So?” Yuuji whispers through the phone. His voice is thick, like the one syllable is choking him.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Megumi’s words leave his mouth before he can hinder them. “So, maybe we should call it.” He exhales sharply. “Ah, end it, I mean.”
Again, he is met with silence on Yuuji’s end. This time, Megumi can’t even perceive the living sound of breathing.
Half a minute must pass before Yuuji replies, sounding small but convinced.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
A heavy exhale. “Yeah.”
Around him, Megumi’s world is crumbling, the edges of it withering away, burning, falling to pieces like paper folded inwards, cracked and disintegrated in a fire. His body feels dense, rooted to his bed under him. In his ears, Megumi’s pulse is roaring, blocking out any other noise except for the occasional static on Yuuji’s end of the line.
It physically hurts. His chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.
“I don’t know what to say now.” Yuuji again.
His voice makes everything stop. Megumi’s crushed world is at a standstill, suspended in vacuum. He thinks his heart has ceased beating. Everything is dead silent in his head, the pulsing gone.
“I don’t know either.”
They both stop, heavy in thought, swimming in emotions.
Yuuji speaks up first. “I guess,” a paus, “I guess I’d like to thank you.”
Even though his throat closes up, Megumi forces himself to reply. He’s got the absurd need to laugh, but at the same time he wants nothing more than to punch a wall, throw a chair to the ground and just… just do something. Something big to let it all out.
“What for?”
A wet laugh down the line. He’s crying. Yuuji is crying.
And Megumi isn’t there to console him. Hasn’t been there - for weeks now. It is Megumi who’s causing the tears. Fuck, he hates himself so much.
“For everything.” Another sad chuckle. “Or, you know, I guess not everything. But- ah, you get what I mean.” Yuuji sniffles, the sad sound punctuating his sentence.
“Yeah.” Megumi clenches his free hand into a fist, knuckles turning white. “You too- thank you.”
Yuuji hums in reply. “Goodbye Megumi,” he whispers then, so so quietly, and this time Megumi can hear the tremble in his voice.
Immediately, Megumi’s treacherous mind conjures up a picture of Yuuji, sitting huddled up on the couch in the old apartment they used to share. He envisions the bags under his brown eyes, the tears running silently down his cheeks, sees how he is wearing that soft red hoodie, clutching a pillow to his chest in the way he did when they were watching scary movies.
Megumi feels like taking it all back.
But he doesn’t.
“Goodbye, Yuuji,” he wheezes out instead.
His throat feels raw.
The sound of a click pounds through Megumi’s ear, the quiet noise so much louder than anything else that’s been said during the call.
There is no more static. No more soft breathing or sniffling.
It isn’t fair.
April, 2021
Megumi has a list of things to do before starting his second year of college and he’s checked seven out of nine boxes. Unfortunately, box three and eight - the unchecked - are the most important ones. But they also require a lot of interaction with other people. Which is something he rather procrastinates doing.
He frowns down on them, the small, empty squares glaring back at Megumi from his phone’s screen, mocking him, before he closes down his notes app and opens up the call one.
He’s standing in the main campus building of his college, in front of a bulletin board that’s heavy with notes pinned to it. Only one of the papers is of interest though. Written on it are two numbers - one in the neat font of a computer, and the other has been added below it, scrawled out in messy handwriting with a pink ink pen.
Hopefully, in the nearest five minutes, Megumi will have managed to convince himself to dial and call one of the numbers.
Hopefully, if he gets over his aversion to socialising with people, the call will lead to him finding an apartment to live in the coming school year (box number three).
Punching in the numbers for the first number with unnecessarily much force, Megumi inhales deeply and presses the call button.
No one picks up.
A pinching irritation sparks up in his chest. Megumi flexes his fingers impatiently and dials the second number before he loses his conviction.
This time, the call goes through and a girl picks up.
“Hello?”
Megumi cringes in on himself. Why hadn’t he thought of what to say before he called?
“Eh, hello?” he starts hesitantly.
On the other end of the line the girl huffs. “Who is it? Itadori?” she asks sharply, and before Megumi has time to reply, adds, “Look if this is a prank call, I swear to God, I’m gonna-”
“No,” Megumi interrupts harshly, then clears his throat. “I’m not-... I mean it’s not a prank call. I’m Fushiguro Megumi.”
There’s a beat of silence before the girl replies. “... Okay? And you want?”
“I’m calling about the apartment. I tried the first number, but no one picked up.” Realising his monotone voice probably isn’t going to appeal to the girl, he tries adding a, “Sorry if I’m inconveniencing you.”
The girl waits again before replying. Megumi can hear her shush someone near her. He flexes his fingers again.
“No no, it’s fine,” she says when she finally replies. “It’s not your fault Itadori’s an idiot.”
Megumi raises a brow. Above the printed number the name Itadori Yuuji is typed out neatly. He had assumed both numbers were his, but alas, he was wrong.
“I’m Kugisaki Nobara,” the girl continues. “Itadori’s roommate.” Megumi hears her shush someone again. “About the apartment,” she says then, “we can’t just accept you over the phone, and I’m guessing you don’t just wanna say yes to moving into a place you’ve never seen, so we could meet up and Itadori and I can show you the rooms, and then we can, you know,” Megumi can hear the grin in her voice, ” judge you.”
He frowns. Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuuji - one is apparently an idiot and the other is a gruff woman. Maybe he shouldn’t agree, but then again… no. He really needs to find a place to stay. He can’t have another year in a dormitory. No thank you.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he exhales.
“Does tomorrow work?”
“Yeah, I’m free all day.” In fact, Megumi’s free every day until the start of the first term. He still hasn’t gotten a job (box number eight).
“Great,” Kugisaki says dismissively. “I’ll text you the details! Bye!”
She hangs up before Megumi has time to reply.
------
‘The details’, as Kugisaki called them, leads Megumi to a big apartment complex a short bus ride from campus. The building is a huge gray (quite dull, if he’s being honest - but who cares? he’s just gonna sleep in it) rectangle.
Kugisaki had told Megumi to be there at eleven AM sharp, so he is. And now he’s just standing here, bored, nudging with his shoe at the gravel under his feet.
After checking his phone a second time, registering that Kugisaki and Itadori are sixteen minutes late, he hears a loud voice shouting from behind him.
“Hi!”
Megumi spins around.
The person speeding towards him is a girl with sharply cut ginger hair. She stops right in front of Megumi and gives him a very unsubtle (and sceptical) once over. He can’t tell if she approves of him by her expression.
“Are you Fushiguro?” she asks him after her stare down. She doesn’t break eye contact as he raises an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he replies, glaring back. “Are you Kugisaki Nobara?”
Her impassive face breaks into a grin. “The one and only,” she exclaims, then grabs Megumi by the shoulder and proceeds to drag him after her into the plain building.
“It’s nice to meet you, Fushiguro-san,” Kugisaki says as she presses the button to call for the elevator, now having let go of Megumi. “I hope you’re not as boring as the other applicants. Itadori and I have had to say no to, like, seven people.”
Megumi just hums in reply. He wouldn’t classify himself as boring, but neither would he ever describe himself as fun.
They step into the elevator and Kugisaki presses the button to the seventh floor. She doesn’t look at Megumi as she asks what he studies.
“Linguistics,” he replies shortly. “You?”
“I wanna work in fashion,” Kugisaki tells him, “but, like, that’s a hard business to get into, so right now I’m studying economics. This is my second year.” When Megumi just hums again, she continues, “Itadori, the idiot who’s late, studies film. We met in our first year.”
“He’s your boyfriend?” Megumi asks, just to say something other than pointing out that Kugisaki too in fact was late.
Beside him, Kugisaki lets out a sound in between a cackle and dry heave. This time she turns to Megumi and slaps her hand down on his shoulder before replying. The look on her face is a weird mix between horrified and amused.
“God no!” she shouts in his face. Megumi has to force himself to not flinch. Kugisaki starts to laugh. “No no no no. No.”
“So… no?”
“I’d never go out with someone like him! We’re just friends.” She lets out a final bark of laughter as she leads Megumi out of the elevator and to a door with a nameplate that reads ‘Sukuna’.
He frowns at the name, which obviously doesn’t belong to either Kugisaki or Itadori. Plus, Megumi thinks he’s heard it before, but he can’t remember when or why. The name’s characters tickle his brain annoyingly.
“Sukuna,” he says loud enough so Kugisaki will hear him as she stands before him to unlock the door. “Who’s that?”
Kugisaki throws a disbelieving look over her shoulder as she opens the door. She narrows her eyes at him as they step into the small hallway.
“Itadori’s older brother…” she tells him slowly.
Averting his eyes at her gaze, Megumi begins to toe off his shoes. “He owns the apartment?”
“Yeah.” Megumi can feel her eyes on him. “He’s renting out to Itadori for what he calls a ‘family prize’, but it still costs way too much per month for one person.” Kugisaki points Megumi towards the doorway into the apartment’s living room. “So that’s why we’re here!”
As Megumi takes his first step into the living room, he can feel his eyebrows rise. It’s larger than he’d thought it’d be, and cleaner. When he pictured the living quarters of a twenty-something male college student, tidy hadn’t been the first word to pop up in his head. But that’s exactly what it is.
He spins around in a slow circle, taking in the gray couch and fluffy black mat below the coffee table, the small bookshelf and the TV on the wall. In the middle of the left wall there’s a small corridor leading to four other rooms, and right beside him is the kitchen, tiny, silver and black and directly connected to the living area.
His gaze lands on Kugisaki. “How can three people afford something this big this close to campus?” he asks her, the scepticism dripping heavily from his every syllable.
Kugisaki shrugs, “I told you: family price.”
Megumi frowns, but nods. He’s not gonna push.
“It’s nice,” he says instead and lets his eyes wander once more.
“Right?” Kugisaki yawns as she walks past him and collapses onto the couch. Then she fixes him with that look again. Megumi stills. “You really don’t know who Sukuna is?”
He shakes his head.
“The King of Curses?”
“The king of what?”
“Curses.” Kugisaki huffs at the blank look in his eyes. “The TV-show.”
Megumi’s eyebrows furrow. Somewhere deep inside his skull a small light is flickering and he can hear his foster dad’s jovial voice speaking in vague, overly excited, incomprehensible words. Maybe he should listen more when Satoru speaks of his new favourite series.
No, scratch that. He definitely shouldn’t. Satoru would become even more unbearable if he thought Megumi shared any of his interests. He would probably suggest movie nights. The horror, Megumi thinks, cringing inwardly.
“Sukuna’s an actor on the show,” Kugisaki says, interrupting his thoughts. “He plays the main character. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of him.” She removes her jacket and throws it on the armrest. “Both he and the show’s been a really big deal for months now. Won all kinds of prizes.”
Megumi stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I think my dad’s mentioned it sometime.”
“Probably,” Kugisaki says. Then she turns abruptly on the sofa and climbs up to look through the windows behind it. “Hey!” she squeals. “It’s Itadori!”
Kugisaki struggles for a few seconds to wrangle open the window, but as soon as it’s unlocked, she screams down, “YOU’RE LATE, IDIOT!”
Wincing, Megumi looks around himself. It feels like he can see the neighbours shaking their heads disapprovingly at Kugisaki's loud voice echoing out. His cheeks heat up in second hand embarrassment and he hides his face, pulling up the collar of the windbreaker he’s wearing.
Less than a minute passes before Megumi hears the front door slam open.
“KUGISAKIII, WHO’RE YOU CALLING AN IDIOT?”
The words bore into Megumi’s ears.
What the fuck has he gotten himself into? There’s no chance in hell that someone like Megumi will survive living with two such… boisterous individuals.
… Then again, it’s not as if growing up in Satoru’s home had been a quiet affair.
He only has time to blink before someone tumbles into the living room, a flurry of pink and red. Megumi can only stare, stunned to silence by the sheer energy exuding from the boy - and the rowdy way he’s chosen to enter the apartment. What doesn’t help is that the guy (presumably Itadori Yuuji, Megumi thinks) just stares back dumbfoundedly.
After a few too many seconds without anyone saying something - not even Kugisaki - the boy bows his head quickly. He’s got shaggy pink hair, but his shaved sides show his natural colour. Megumi admires the bravery of someone that dares go for such a conspicuous dye.
“I’m Itadori Yuuji and my type is tall girls with big asses!” Itadori says passionately, sounding like he’s reciting a prewritten manuscript for how he’s supposed to introduce himself.
And Megumi’s shaky admiration immediately crumbles into dust.
Fuck. He’s a douche.
Then he notices the glint in Itadori’s huge brown eyes, and frowns. Was he joking? Megumi hopes to God that he was. If he’s going to live here, in Itadori’s brother’s apartment, then the least Megumi can ask for is that Itadori himself isn’t a total dick.
“You’re Fushiguro?” Itadori asks him curiously, stepping closer, a huge smile on his face.
It breaks Megumi out of his reverie, but before he gets to reply two hands clamp down on his shoulders from behind, causing him to stiffen. As Megumi forces himself to keep his cool, Kugisaki squeezes him as she looks at Itadori from behind his back.
“Of course this is Fushiguro-san,” she drawls, “and you were supposed to meet him and I at eleven, so that we could show him this place together.”
In his periphery, Megumi sees Kugisaki’s accusing glare and in front of him Itadori is looking everywhere but at his friend, cheeks tinted pink.
“In all fairness, you were also late.”
Megumi can swear he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
At the same time as Itadori’s eyes widen before he bends forward, laughing, Kugisaki releases an affronted gasp.
“Fu-shi-gu-ro-san,” she breathes, “I thought you were my friend!”
Megumi raises a brow. “I’ve known you for twenty minutes.”
His comment sends Itadori into another round of loud laughter. “Oh man,” he wheezes out after he’s gathered enough air. “Man, we’re keeping you.” He straightens himself enough to look Megumi in the eyes as he says it and Megumi’s stomach flips at the pure unadulterated joy in them.
Kugisaki pretends to pout at Itadori’s quick unanimous decision, but then she slaps Megumi’s shoulder and says breezily, “I guess you’re better than the perverts and racists that were here earlier.”
The what?
“Oh, that’s right!” Itadori chuckles. “Remember the second guy? He wouldn’t stop staring at your boobs!”
“And that girl who kept touching your arms,” Kugisaki supplies, grinning.
The two residents start laughing and Megumi feels as if he’s sticking out like a sore thumb. He keeps his mouth shut though, comfortable just to watch the two interact. Now that they appear to have accepted him, they don’t seem too bad after all.
After that, Megumi gets to see the rest of the apartment. All bedrooms but one (the one that’s apparently been claimed by and given to Kugisaki) are quite small, as is the shared bathroom, but all in all it’s a perfectly nice place.
When they enter Itadori and Kugisaki’s bedrooms, Megumi understands how the living room could be so tidy… It’s because every trinket and stray private possession that could possibly have accidentally been left in the shared living area has been pressed into each of their rooms.
Megumi throws Itadori an unimpressed sideways glance when they reach the boy’s room. On the bed and desk chairs there are clothes. Under the bed, there are boxes. On the floor around the bed there are waterglasses, books, papers, a nintendo switch, shoes, even more clothes and other small odds and ends. The walls are covered with movie posters, some of which Megumi recognizes, but most of them are unfamiliar. There’s one with a blond girl in a bikini.
Meeting Megumi’s gaze, Itadori smiles sheepishly.
“Kugisaki figured we’d make a better first impression if the first thing we showed was a super clean living room.”
Megumi snorts, hiding his smile behind his jacket. He nods, “She’s right.”
Beside him Kugisaki makes a triumphant noise. She flicks his arm. “Of course I am!”
As they walk around, Itadori tells him about rent, furnishing, the cooking and cleaning schedule Kugisaki and he has made up (Itadori cooks everything, they help with tidying in all shared areas).
Megumi listens in silence, already having made up his mind about saying yes to moving here.
After the small tour, he’s also decided privately that it’s not just the apartment that’s nice - Itadori and Kugisaki also seem fun and easy to get along with, albeit a little wild. They have an entertaining back-and-forth that Megumi observes contentedly. The teasing between them makes a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He hides it behind his jacket collar.
“So,” Itadori says, clapping his hands together with finality as they wrap up in the kitchen, “any questions, Fushiguro-san?”
“When can I move in?”
He doesn’t even say it with any sort of joyous lilt in his voice, still Itadori’s face breaks into a grin.
The pink haired boy sweeps out with his hands in a grand gesture, the smile never failing.
“Anytime you want!”
… And that’s that.
The following week, Megumi gets to sign a contract, receive his own keys, and as soon as those practicalities are out of the way, he starts moving in his stuff. It’s only a few days before his second year starts after all.
His bedroom is as aforementioned quite small, but that doesn’t bother him. It’s not like the dormroom Megumi had during his first year was any better. In the new room, there’s already a black wooden bed and nightstand pushed to one corner and a closet nailed to one of the walls. So all there is for Megumi to do really is bring his clothes, books and other various nick nacks he’d be worse off living without.
In his moving box, the last things waiting to be unpacked are a few frames with pictures of his sisters and foster dads, one of his dogs and an even bigger unframed photograph of himself with all of his mismatched family… which he loves, even though he’d never say that out loud.
He quickly places the picture on his nightstand when someone knocks on his door. After opening it, Megumi steps back to let Itadori in.
A low whistle whooshes out of Itadori. “Wow!” he exclaims. “It’s so organized!” Then he proceeds to immediately duck his head into the box with the pictures. Megumi hears a muffled “Puppies!” before Itadori emerges, two of the pictures in hand. He shoves the one with the dogs into Megumi’s face. “Are these yours?”
“Yes,” Megumi grumbles, slapping Itadori’s hand away at the same time as he snatches the frame back. Itadori’s still smiling.
“They’re so cute!”
“Thank you. I know.” Megumi gently places the frame on his duvet.
“And are these your sisters?”
One look, and Megumi sees that the other picture Itadori got hold of is the one with Tsumiki, Nanako and Mimiko. It’s from seven years ago, taken a few months after Satoru and Suguru adopted the twins. Tsumiki, then fifteen years old, is sitting between the two younger girls, her arms around their small shoulders. This time, Megumi lets Itadori keep the photo in his hands.
“Yes. Tsumiki, Nanako and Mimiko,” he tells Itadori, taking a seat on his bed.
Itadori’s still looking at the picture, his eyes narrowed. “They look nothing like you.”
“Well, we’re not related by blood,” Megumi tells him easily.
“Oh?” Itadori turns his big brown eyes on him, making Megumi look down on his hands, his fingers knotting together in his lap.
“Yeah, Tsumiki and I are stepsiblings. We got taken in by one of my foster dads when I was five, Tsumiki seven. Nanako and Mimiko,” Megumi reaches forward to tap at the glass above the two small girls on the couch, “were adopted by my foster parents years later.”
Itadori’s silent for a few seconds before returning the picture to Megumi. He’s smiling. “I see!” he declares. “Must have been fun growing up with so many siblings around you.”
“I guess so.”
Itadori snoops around for a few more minutes and just as Megumi begins to feel overwhelmed by the other’s apparent interest in Megumi’s life, the pink haired boy looks at his phone and suddenly straightens up, announcing that he has to go.
“See you tonight,” Itadori yells with a wave over his shoulder as he rushes off, slamming Megumi’s door shut behind him.
Megumi blinks. “So much energy…”
Once again he asks himself what he’s gotten himself into. How will he survive in the presence of a tornado like Itadori? A person like Kugisaki who changes mood every other minute?
Megumi flexes his fingers, removing the frame with his dogs before lying down heavily on his bed.
He’s tired.
It’ll be alright.