Chapter Text
Megumi’s breath catches in his throat. His chest was already tight. Laying flat on his stomach isn’t helping anything.
He scoots sideways, pressing against the wall, peering with wide eyes out from beneath his bed.
It steps closer, entering into his bedroom.
“No… more… space,” the thing exclaims, its voice high pitched and wavering. “No more space!”
Megumi flinches, his entire body trembling.
Its steps are uneven. It staggers to the left, then back to the right, slamming against his dresser, knocking several stuffed animals onto the floor.
“No more…space,” it mumbles again. The words make no sense.
Megumi frantically scans his surroundings - a box of old clothes, a stack of books, a pair of shoes. Nothing useful. A toy car. A dragon figurine. A stuffed dog.
Wait-
With his heart rattling beneath his ribs, Megumi glances towards shaking hands. Dogs.
They’re still just puppies. Can they even help?
Megumi manages an inhalation. He has to at least try. His palms meet and he makes the symbol, summoning his shikigami.
He watches as two small masses of fur, one white and one black, form from the shadows that surround him, and in an instant they’re both growling and barking, racing out from beneath the bed and towards the thing that slowly approaches.
“No more space!” It wails, kicking its legs out at the dogs that nip at its feet. It slams its heel down on the white one's tail before sending the black one flying across the room.
Megumi yelps in unison with his dog, watching as it hits his bedroom wall and drops to the ground, limping.
A new noise lifts above the others - Megumi’s alert enough to register them as approaching footsteps.
The curse lifts its foot above the white dog, preparing to stomp. “No! More! Space!”
There’s a small flash of light and the thing disappears, a pair of feet in the doorway taking its place.
“Nope. None for you, anway,” a voice calls out.
Black pants. Black shoes. Megumi can’t see anything above that, shielded by the bed. A weight lifts from his shoulders, and he feels like he can begin to breathe normally again. Whatever that thing was, it’s completely gone now. The heaviness of terror is gone.
“Don’t be shy, now. It’s safe to come out.”
Megumi watches hesitantly as his shikigami approach the stranger, earning pets in response. They don’t attack. They don’t growl.
“Cursed energy, huh?” The voice continues. “Shikigami?”
Megumi refuses to move.
The stranger sighs before approaching the bed, crouching lower. “Knock knock,” they tap their knuckles against the floorboards. “Anybody home?” they ask before tilting their head forward, face coming into view.
As soon as they’re visible Megumi swings his leg, in one swift motion his foot connects with the stranger's face. To Megumi’s surprise, the man does not react. Well, he does, but not in a way Megumi expects - the man grins.
“You seem tough, kid. That curse didn’t stand a chance.”
Megumi glowers. Lying just to humor me? He questions. I’m not a baby.
“So are you gonna come out or what?”
Megumi clenches his teeth, sliding out from the foot of his bed and rising to his feet. He scans the room carefully, verifying that the thing is truly gone.
“See? No monsters here.”
No, just an idiot wearing sunglasses indoors, Megumi notes. A moment later he releases his shikigami, the two dogs disappearing back into shadow.
The man squats down so that they’re eye level. White hair. Long legs. Thin. And a stupid smirk plastered across his face. He extends a hand, which Megumi ignores.
“Gojo Satoru,” he states. “Your savior.”
“Fushiguro Megumi,” he responds. “Completely doomed.”
_______________________
Things are happening so quickly, Megumi can’t keep up. People all around him are talking. They’re talking about him. About what to do with him. About where he’ll go. Who he’ll stay with. Who will feed him. Where he came from. Who he came from - that one seems especially important to people.
He counts the number of times his name has been stated. He’s up to forty seven now.
Forty seven times his name has been mentioned, and never once is it directed towards him. No one speaks to him, they speak near him. Around him. He catches onto bits of information by chance. No one has the decency to tell any of it to his face. No one has the decency to ask his opinion.
They’ll make the decisions and Megumi will be forced to live with them.
He glares, arms folded, seated in the corner of an office as people shuffle in and out. He’s given a cup of water and a snack. He’s given a blanket. He’s told to make himself at home. Try to rest. Relax.
Other than that, he’s left alone.
Doesn’t matter, he thinks. Being alone is nothing new.
He closes his eyes, head throbbing.
___________________________
“So…” the man begins as they enter down a long corridor. “This is where you’ll be staying for a while.”
The man - he’d introduced himself as Yaga Masamichi, the school's principal - leads the way, the hall lined with doors on either side. Some of them are open, allowing Megumi to glance inside. Bedrooms.
Was this some kind of dorm?
“Most of them are vacant,” Principal Yaga continues. “We don’t have a very large enrollment rate. But Gojo - you've met him already," Yaga gestures towards his own head, "white hair, sunglasses, keen ability to annoy - he's in the room across from you.”
Oh. How wonderful.
“You’ll get to meet the others when they return from an assignment…”
Megumi can tell the man is uncomfortable. Probably not used to dealing with people quite so young.
“This isn’t permanent. It’s just a place for you to stay until we can-,”
One of the dorm room doors is thrown open and Gojo pops out, clapping his hands together. “Hey, it’s about to get a lot livelier, huh?”
Gojo squats down so that they’re eye level again, and Megumi has to fight off the sudden urge to kick him in the shin.
“You remember me, right? I’m the one who saved you earl-,”
“You didn’t save me,” Megumi grumbles.
“Aw, so you do remember?” Gojo pats Megumi’s head.
Megumi swats his hand away.
“Sheesh,” Gojo stands, eyeing Principal Yaga now. “I’m gonna have to sleep with my infinity on. Did you search his bag for cursed tools? Megumi-kun, you don’t take after your dad, do you?”
Megumi shrugs, expression bored. “How should I know? I barely knew him.”
“Hm?” Gojo murmurs. “Well I can tell you a few things,” he smiles again, eager. “Your dad is from the Zen’in family - reputable for jujutsu sorcery. He kept your birth secret, likely in order to sell you once your cursed technique manifested. You’d go for a lot - you’ve got quality cursed power. Anyway, he-,”
“Don’t care,” Megumi fakes a yawn. “Is this where I’m staying, then?” he asks, pointing to the door over his shoulder.
Principal Yaga nods, opening it for him. Megumi enters, tossing his single backpack of belongings onto the bed.
“Home sweet home,” Gojo enters without invitation. “It’s big, huh? Much bigger than your old room. I bet you’re glad I saved you.”
Does this guy ever shut up?
“You didn’t save me,” Megumi repeats.
Gojo acts like he didn’t hear him. “Beats being sold to the Zen’in’s, doesn’t it? They’d just use you for your-,”
“Use me for my cursed technique, right?” Megumi finishes, and finally Gojo pauses. “You think you guys are any better? Dad was gonna sell me for money, and you’re gonna exploit my abilities. What’s the difference? If I were a normal kid without any cursed energy, I wouldn’t be here, would I? You’d call child protective services or something like that. But you didn’t. You said it yourself - I have quality cursed power. You’re probably hoping I’ll become a sorcerer one day. Boost your enrollment rates a bit more, right?”
Gojo pinches his lips together, leaning towards Principal Yaga. “How old did you say this kid is again?” he murmurs.
“None of you people even bothered to ask me what I wanted.”
There’s heat bubbling up in Megumi’s chest that he can no longer ignore. His cheeks feel flushed. His head still aches. This has been one of the longest days of his life, and he’s spent the entirety of it terrified and surrounded by strangers.
“Well,” Gojo folds his arms across his chest. “What do you want, kid?”
“For you to get out,” Megumi snaps.
Slowly, the two men comply, allowing Megumi to slam the door shut behind them.
Quickly, he climbs onto the bed and summons his shikigami before burying his face in their fur. Finally. At least he’s not completely alone.
________________________
Megumi’s forced to release his shikigami after about an hour, drained from the constant output of cursed energy.
He lays in bed for the rest of the night without sleeping. Every time his heavy eyelids finally slip closed, there’s a curse barreling in through his doorway or smashing through the glass window, and he flinches back upright.
He occupies barely twenty minutes by removing his clothes from his backpack, folding them neatly into piles, and then sorting them away into drawers. He has a picture of him and his older sister, Tsumiki, that he places on his nightstand, and several stuffed animals that he arranges on his bed.
He lays back down, the silence ringing in his ears. He’s used to the noise of the city right outside their little apartment. He’s used to honking cars and footsteps and shouting. It’s so quiet here. He can hear his own heartbeat.
He listens to the thumping in his chest until morning.
Footsteps outside his door prompt him to roll out of bed, his body heavy and sluggish, his eyes puffy and drooping. He makes his bed and gives his stuffed dog one last squeeze before placing it next to his pillow.
He stops before his door, pausing to listen for a moment. He can hear some sort of rummaging, but it sounds distant. Slowly, he reaches for the handle, cracking it open a sliver. He peers outside, the hallway empty.
The noise is coming to the left. He follows the corridor until the space opens up into a large common area - a kitchen, dining area, and living room equipped with several sofas and a television.
The kitchen is where the sound is coming from - Gojo is on his knees, different pots and pans littering the floor as he digs through a cupboard in search of a specific cooking utensil.
Megumi sighs. What a mess.
“Oh!” Gojo pops his head out, leaning back once he’s spotted Megumi. His grin looks suspiciously wide, and Megumi notices how he’s eyeing his hair. “Good morning, little sea urchin.”
Megumi frowns. “Morning, old man.”
“Ah, you’re certainly prickly like one,” Gojo adds. “And old man is a stretch…”
Megumi shrugs. “Older than me.” As soon as Gojo looks away he tries to slick down his bedhead.
“So I thought I’d make us some rice for breakfast! The stove’s 50/50, but be especially wary of the oven,” Gojo lifts his hands, wiggling his fingers, some mockery of evil lurking on his face, “it’s cursed.”
Megumi takes that to mean Gojo’s a bad cook.
Gojo stands with a pot in hand, heading for the rice without cleaning up his mess first. “So how much you want, kid?”
“None,” Megumi says despite the fact that rice doesn’t sound half bad. “I can make myself something.”
Gojo stares for a moment, watching as Megumi opens the fridge. “Suit yourself. We should have eggs, and there’s cereal in the-,”
“I’m good.”
Megumi pulls out some fruit and begins washing it in the sink while Gojo takes a seat at the counter, waiting for his rice to cook. He occupies himself by looking at his phone, sneaking glances up at Megumi every now and then.
“So how’d you sleep?” Gojo asks, noting the bags underneath Megumi’s eyes.
“Great,” Megumi answers flatly.
“There are knives in that drawer there,” Gojo points. “Want me to cut the fruit up for you?”
Megumi scowls at him over his shoulder. “I don’t need your help.”
Gojo presses his lips together, defeated, and looks back to his phone.
Megumi picks the stems off of some strawberries before slicing an apple into fourths. He searches through the lower cabinets for a bowl before looking back up at Gojo. “Bowls?” he asks.
“Top cabinet,” Gojo replies without looking up this time.
Megumi pauses, glancing between the cabinet and Gojo, waiting for another offer, but nothing comes. He knows he won’t be able to reach it, and he doesn’t spot any chairs within the room. He grits his teeth. No way in hell he’s asking for help now.
He thinks for a moment before pressing his palms together, summoning his dogs again. His hands shake a bit - still drained of energy, but he can manage it for just a minute or two.
He doesn’t have to say anything out loud. He can just think what he wants them to do, and his dogs can typically act without problem. He has them stand side by side, and he slowly steps onto their backs, balancing on the two of them in order to reach for the cupboard's handle. He stretches his arm up, fingers barely brushing it.
He lifts onto his toes, extending his arm as far as he can, nearly there.
He’s just about got it open when the boiling rice water begins to foam, some of the bubbles overflowing down the sides and spilling onto the stove top, exuding a sharp hissing sound.
Both dogs start barking, and Megumi flinches, losing his balance.
He’s very disoriented.
He is certain that Gojo had been sitting many feet away at the counter. Yet in an instant Gojo is at Megumi’s side, his hand swooping beneath Megumi’s head so that he won’t hit it on the floor as he falls.
Gojo briefly scans Megumi, making sure he’s not hurt, and then he’s back on his feet, rushing towards the stove.
“Shit!” Gojo groans, removing the pot from the burner. “I mean, shoot,” he corrects himself, looking back down at Megumi who sits on the floor.
Megumi can’t catch his breath, his chest pounding. He forces himself to his feet, backing up against the cabinets, looking from his dogs, to Gojo, before scanning the room.
“What were they barking at?” he asks, searching. "Where is it?”
Get it! Get it! He thinks, willing his dogs into action, but there’s nothing to get, so they continue to bark in confusion, running frantically throughout the kitchen.
Megumi cups his hands over his ears, his eyes still darting around.
I can’t see it! Where is it? Where is it?
“Megumi,” Gojo says softly from the boy's side, his hand on Megumi’s shoulder, which is trembling. “There’s no curse. They were just barking at the stove.”
Slowly, Megumi’s eyes make their way to Gojo’s, green meeting blue. He looks so calm. Certain. Megumi doesn’t think anyone could manage to look that calm if something were actually wrong.
Gojo smiles gently, his hand patting Megumi’s back.
After a few moments, Megumi drops his arms, and as his breath begins to steady, the dogs stop barking.
“I told you, the only curse in here is that damn - eh, I mean, darn - stove.”
Megumi nods, inhaling deeply, trying to get his heartbeat out of his head and back down into his chest where it belongs.
“Your head okay?” Gojo asks. “Not hurt, are you?”
Megumi removes himself from Gojo’s touch, his cheeks flushing redder. “I’m fine,” he mumbles.
“Ha! I knew it,” Gojo grins. “You’re a strong one. I can tell,” he winks.
Great, Megumi thinks. He’s patronizing me again.
Gojo can sense his embarrassment, so he doesn’t hover around the subject any longer. “Look at these guys. If I were you I’d have them out all the time,” Gojo lowers to the floor with his legs crossed, pulling both puppies onto his lap. They lick at his face, tails wagging.
“What are their names?”
Megumi pauses. He wasn’t lying before - he barely remembers his dad - but that question brings forth one of only several memories that Megumi has of his father.
“Don’t give them names,” he had said. “Don’t get attached to them. They don’t always last. They’re not pets, Megumi. They’re weapons at your disposal.”
“Urchin head?” Gojo’s voice brings Megumi back to this room.
“Uh,” Megumi shakes his head, trying to refocus. “They don’t have any.”
“Don’t have any?” Gojo repeats. “That won’t do. We’ll have to think of some, then.”
Megumi and Gojo both stare down at the dogs, and eventually, the fear begins to fade away.
“Hey,” Gojo grins after a few minutes, the black dog still on his lap, the white dog in Megumi’s arms, “they look a lot like the two of us, don’t they?”