take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 7: conversation
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chapter synopsis:
'Â âI canât believe youâre leaving us for a boy," she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn't even blink.
âIâm not.â You are. '
---
Megumi calls you back. You leave for Tokyo again, like a soul yearning for its body.
word count: ~6k; tws: none for now :)!!
19-6-2018
âSo youâre really going to let go of them now?â your father asks.Â
â...yeah.âÂ
âThatâs good. Iâll miss that Itadori boy, though.âÂ
You will, too.Â
In a way you suppose Megumi and Yuuji are very similar. Theyâd go well together, be good, fast friends and all that.Â
Theyâre both undoubtedly good people, no matter how theyâve beat people up before and how different their beliefs may be.Â
In Megumiâs case, everyone knew how good a person Tsumiki was, her younger brother included. Her kindness and virtue extended itself, inspiring other people around her. But Megumi was a good person, tooâ polite, patient (most of the time, unless it were Gojoâ but who wouldnât be annoyed by that man, right?), kind in his own way. He cared for you in all sorts of ways in the past, even then you could tell, gentle with animals and objects and your hand. Gentle in his own way. Giving you reminders despite the tiny calumniations sprinkled in (they barely do as much damage as comb bristles can), being sharp because he must have had to, kind because it was in his very nature. Easy on the eyes, tall, deep soothing voiceâ he ticked all the boxes for that, too. You bet that if things were different, and the two of you had stayed in touch with each other, youâd have fallen deeply in love with it by now. Yet that thought only makes you feel sour now that things hadnât gone that way at all.Â
And Yuuji, tooâ there was no explanation needed for Yuuji. Even Megumi could tell he was a good person. And at some times he was almost like Tsumiki. You werenât ever surprised that youâd caught feelings for him, becauseâ who wouldnât? He was always popular, even if he was ignorant of his own charm around others. But he wasnât just a good guy with a ripped torso, he was honest, perceptive and smart in conversations. Smarter than he ever credited himself for. Smart in a way you could never beâ people with cute faces, nice bodies and good social skills were in a league of their own, practically. Youâd thought that for a long time.Â
Did either of them ever know how you felt?Â
Probably not. Your heart was guarded, intensely so, and youâd never lay your feelings bare and out so easily. You werenât the type of person to say you loved people as easily as others did, even within your own family.Â
This, you presume, is probably an acquired trait, now that you think about it. You were much more different as a child, free with praise and love and unabashed affection as well as appreciation for the people around you. What changed?
(Everything.)Â
You miss 2010. You miss Tsumiki the way you miss your motherâs cooking, miss her the way you miss when you wrote emails and letters and text messages to her with multi-coloured pens or your old phone that eventually broke a year after. You miss the conversations the two of you had, miss how you used to be your parentsâ little angel.Â
And in the end it all comes back to that, doesnât it? 2010. Nostalgia. Reminiscing on old memories in a way akin to how the elderly do in their youth. That just made you seem more pathetic, because, werenât you supposed to be making those memories right now, at this time of your life?Â
Youâre a teenager. You should be going out with friends, and having fun, not rotting at home ruminating on the past, with the only friends youâve ever had hundreds of kilometres away from you (you werenât sure if you could even call one of them a âfriendâ anymore), and your acquaintances not close enough to replace them (how could they ever? How could there ever be a replacement for Yuuji?)Â
In a way you feel your life is miserable: awkward, socially-impaired teenage girl with her only friend practically out of her life at this point; nothing special to your name besides a cursed technique that most times does you more harm than good; stuck not being able to completely get over friends she met at eight who left her as quickly as someone can blink their eyes; with the thinking process of a nagging, stubborn mother sometimes, or if not that then a blurry, mingled train of thought that gets delayed or lost when moving from station to station; someone not of use at all. Not miserable, you think to yourself like a slap to the face, pathetic.Â
Youâre not sure how Tsumiki is nowâ maybe she has a partner, or better friends than you were, or sheâs busy being president of the student council or something (sheâd be a sterling leader, of that youâre certain, that girl who youâd always known was bound to go places in the span of her lifetime).Â
Hopefully, sheâs alright, and doing the best she can in life. Thatâs all you wish for when it comes to Tsumiki.Â
At this point, thereâs no point in wishing to join them, or to linger on them and memories of the past. Itâs a mosquito in summer heat, which is why, if it stays, you decide, youâll just suppress and ignore it until it goes away. Even if you didnât know how long it would take you to get over themâ weeks, months, but goodness forbid a whole lifetime or foreverâ you needed to accept that youâd be like this for nearly the rest of your life: pathetic, lonelyâ ah, thatâs the word that so very perfectly delineates the situation youâre inâ and then some.Â
So thatâs why, when you hear your phone buzzing on your bed like a cicada during a balmy night, you assume itâs someone else. Yuuji must be busy settling in (heâs been texting you, and you took that as a sign that he wouldnât call), and Megumi must be⌠âWell. Megumi has made a promise, and itâs not that you donât believe in him, but it would be better to expect less than what youâd like to in order to evade disappointment.Â
Must be someone else. A prank call, or a scammer, or something. Or a telemarketer, but youâd be surprised if telemarketers were calling you and not your father. And you were never one to pick calls up mindlessly anyway, so if it were some stranger out to get you or swindle you, youâd just hang up or check the number.Â
If not either a scam or a telemarketer (well you suppose both of those could be scams in certain contexts), though, then youâd suspect it would be either Yuuji (Yuujiâs the one who has been texting you, after all, conversations strewn over checking in with the other over the past few hours or snippets of advice from you telling him not to bother Megumi very much, and to be cautious and keep himself safe) or Gojoâ definitely not Megumi, and probably not Gojo either, but still it was more likely that Gojo was calling you instead of Megumi, so youâre considering itâ and you canât really remember Gojoâs number anyway, so what if an unknown number wasnât a prank call or somethingâ
You wonder if you should just pick it up instead of burying your head in your study notes and overthinking everything.Â
But you know itâs definitely not Megumi.Â
You check the phone.Â
Well, youâll be damned.Â
Itâs Fushiguro Megumi.Â
You know his number by heart, after all. Keyed it in too many times to forget, and itâs not like heâd have any reason to change it. Not with the way he cares for things, inanimate objects, not with the tenderly quiet, secretly caring, emotionally jaded way he maintains them.Â
âAh⌠hello?âÂ
Your heart thumps in your chest and heat flares up in your cheeks with a frenetic speed.Â
âHi,â you blurt out, shakily. Youâre sure your voice is quivering, yet your mind feels like itâs barely functioning, almost about to drown in a seven-feet-deep pool, so you canât really tell. You canât really hear yourself.Â
You donât know why you feel like thisâ no, you know exactly why, actually. Itâs because you havenât gotten over him. Your thoughts are scrambled but you know, for sure, that youâre like this because you want to get rid of feelings like these but you canât. Or because youâve been saying that to yourself like a mantra, for so long, even though a part of you wants it to stayâ out of what, thatâs what you donât know; maybe desperation or nostalgia or an inability to stop dwelling on days long gone. But you know what this isâ youâve seen the movies, read the manga, watched the dramas. Itâs romance. Crushes. Something youâre not quite able to call love yet, something youâre too scared to properly name, still, but something you can understand is one-sided nonetheless.Â
ââŚhi. [Name].âÂ
âHelloâŚâÂ
What happens when two estranged childhood friends with a bookâs worth of history behind their relationship that happen to be socially awkward teenagers actually have a conversation semi-beyond what keeps them estranged in the first place?Â
âHiâ no, wait⌠how are you?âÂ
Pot, meet kettle, because youâre going off nothing but the fact that youâre at the very least surprised (the other emotions are too complicated to explain) that heâs speaking to you again, and not just on text, but heâs calling, and he sounds like heâs reading off a script, but the script is in a whole other language, somehow, and the uncertain nervousness in his voice is tangible, even for a deep, low voice like his.Â
Script or not, you appreciate the effort, though.Â
âIâm good, um⌠Iâm happy you were able to call. Itâs been a long time.âÂ
âThatâs good.âÂ
Thereâs silence on the other line; time feels like itâs moving achingly slowly. But youâre mildly happy.Â
Not happy, maybe, but you definitely feel light, as if youâve been severed from the heaviness of everything else that has happened lately. This is the first time in years something like this has ever happened.Â
âAh, wait, I forgot to ask! Sorry, um.. how are you?âÂ
âIâm doing alright, too. Oh, wait, I should apologise. I didnât tell youâ thanks for helping with my injuries the other day. Gojo told me about it after you left. You⌠you didnât have to, though. You shouldnât have risked your health like that.âÂ
You shake your head. âDonât mention it. You know why I do this, anyway.â Out of necessity or a need to be useful, youâre not even sure yourself, but he must know, to some degree, right? It seems as if heâd be the one to know the most of this, of youâ at least, when matters came to this. âAnd Iâll be fine, donât worry. Dr Ieiri probably ended up helping more with the bigger ones once the three of you got back. I mean, she did, right?âÂ
ââŚno. She said that she didnât want to waste her time, so if injuries were more minor like mine, she wouldnât heal them fully.âÂ
â...ah.â More minor? Seriously, doctor? Youâd normally not question her judgement over matters that she had more expertise in dealing with, but seriously?Â
âIâll be fine, though. Most of the bandages have come off, and all.âÂ
âIâm glad to hear that.âÂ
You wonder where he is now, on the bed, maybe, or sitting on the floor. Youâve seen the classrooms, but not the dormitoriesâ you hope wherever he is, that itâs comfortable. That heâs okay.Â
âWeâre going to see a new student soon.âÂ
âReally? Have you met them before?âÂ
âNo, but Gojo said sheâs from the countryside. But weâre meeting her in Harajuku, for some reason.âÂ
âOh, Harajuku! I miss it,â you let out a plaintive sigh, âI canât wait to be back in Tokyo. You know, whatever happens, I still love that city like nothing else. I know how many people hate it, but I love it so much.â And you love it so much in the first place, mostly because of Megumi and Tsumiki. âMaybe she just wants to chase a bit of the sweet city lifeâ I mean, you know how it is when country bumpkins go to the city for the first time⌠kind of. Or when they love the cityâ yeah, thatâs a better way of saying it. I was like that, kind of.âÂ
â...if youâre worried about the train ride here and want to travel alone, I could always pay for you. Uh⌠waitââÂ
âOh, no, no! Thereâs no need, uhmâ thank you anyway, itâs justââÂ
âItâs Gojoâs money anyway.âÂ
âPft,â you snort. Anything to seep out some of Gojoâs money like gluttonous leeches, right? âNah, Iâll be fine. I mean, I donât even think Iâll be able to come back in a few yearsâ time, and by then I wonât even be relying on my parentsâ money for this stuff anymoreâ I mean, I will still be relying on their money, but Iâll be managing it as my own.âÂ
He chuckles lightly over the line, the silent way he shows his emotions, the way that goes unnoticed if one is not attentive to it. It feels like heâs whispering directly into your ear, and the heat on your face (which you werenât even sure was still there until that point). Your heart skips a beat and it completely, absolutely shocks you. â...the offer still stands.âÂ
Yeah, you can get behind it if heâs like this now. What happened to him, anyway? Puberty hit him like a brick and gave him, like, one more ounce of emotional maturity?Â
You shake your head like a character in a piece of crappy romance fanfiction. No way. Not now, at least. Calm down.Â
(...youâre just a girl.)Â
âWell, no take backs from now on, okay? Even if itâs, like, five years into the future, youâll still be using Gojoâs credit card to cover for all my travel expenses.âÂ
He does it again, that low, soft, attractive sound. Makes you want to hit him and hit yourself at the same time, and then kick your feet up in the air giddily, and then throttle yourself, if it were possible, out of sheer embarrassment. âYeah.âÂ
Youâre having the time of your life.Â
âAnyway, how is everything else? Like, are your studies and grades okay? Is the training you do alright to handle?âÂ
âMy grades are pretty okay,â he answers, âNot like Gojo cares, honestly. And the trainingâs fine, itâs nothing Iâm not used to.âÂ
âGojo seems like heâd be a good teacher. When he wants to, he can command respect pretty easily, too. I guess he just⌠chooses not to. But I saw it yesterday, when you and Yuuji were passed out in the hospital.âÂ
It still strikes a pang of guilt in your chest, your inability to have done anything else besides calling Gojo over for help.Â
â...I suppose he does.âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âHow about you? Itadori, he⌠he can be an idiot sometimes, but he speaks of you really admirably. He talks about how smart you are a lot.âÂ
The thought of Megumi calling Yuuji an idiot of all things doesnât feel like it falls short from him, but it still makes you frownâ though, you realise that thatâs just his way of expressing things, because in a way heâd treated you somewhat the same in the past, even if he hadnât shown it outright or expressed it very vividly. Classic Megumi.Â
âHey, heâs smarter than people give him credit for, okay? Wait until you see how talented he is at things other than sports and martial arts. Youâd be surprised after trying the meatballs he makes. Would be good if you asked him to give you the recipe sometime; I make them, like, once a week, at least.âÂ
He sighs, â...I will. But the point is, he cares for you a lot.âÂ
âYeah, beautiful soul, that guy. Loves people the way curious children love nature.âÂ
âThat would be a fitting way to put it.âÂ
âHow are the dogs?âÂ
âMy shikigami?âÂ
âYeah. Do they have names?âÂ
âThe black one is Kuro and the white one is Shiro.âÂ
âYou named them black and white?âÂ
âLook, I named them when I was barely six years old, and six year olds arenât exactly the best when it comes to these thingsâŚâÂ
You giggle, âSo the name stuck?âÂ
âYeah, sort of.âÂ
Real cute.Â
âWhat about your father? How is he?âÂ
âHeâs okay, but, well. I guess weâre not that close anymore.âÂ
â...I see.â He probably canât imagine a version of you who wasnât immensely close to her parents. You couldnât then, either.Â
âWeâve been talking even less now that my motherâs in the hospital, but at least I get to talk to him before he eats, maybe. Iâve been doing most of the cooking now that my mother isnât here and my father doesnât really know how to handle himself in our kitchen without her guidance.âÂ
âOh⌠if you donât mind me asking, what happened to your mother?âÂ
âCancer.âÂ
You can practically hear the gulp heâs taking, the bobbing of his throatâ sensitive topic. âIâm⌠so sorry to hear that.âÂ
âItâs okay, donât be,â you reassure him, âI should have told you that day anyway. I was just⌠exploding at everybody on that night. I should apologiseâ Iâm sorry for how badly I treated you.âÂ
âNo,â he goes, âNo, you shouldnât. I understand why you were like that that night. And it was mostly my fault, too, soâŚâÂ
âNo, no, Iâm serious! Feel free to ask almost anything as long as I have actual answers to your questions and all.âÂ
âStill⌠I just wanted to know. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.âÂ
âNoâ you didnât do any of that at all, donât worry! Iâm alright with people asking about this. Ah, anyway⌠besides Yuuji, do you have any friends?âÂ
âItadori and I arenât friends.âÂ
âTrust me, if I asked him, I bet heâd beg to differ. Yuujiâs like that with peopleâ soon heâll be more important to you than you could have ever thought at first.â Â
âWhatever you say,â he sort of grunts, âBut I donât have any friends, I think⌠except you, maybe. What about you?âÂ
You were honestly expecting him not to consider you a friend at all, and at this point so much has happened that wouldnât even be that bothered if he no longer thought of you as one but called you anyway out of his commitment to his promises, or as an apology.Â
âIâm surprised you can still call me a friend,â you say. Calling people instead of talking to them physically does something to your inhibitions.Â
â...should I not?âÂ
âNo, no, Iâm happy,â you say over the phone. Youâll forget this conversation tomorrow, at least, when the sun has risen and the night returns back the hold you have over yourself, your composure, to you. Youâll act like this never happened. So youâll say whatever you want to now, disgorging yourself of years of withheld secrets. âIâm happy that weâre still friends. I think I like that.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âUmâ yeah, it seems like a good place to start,â you grin slightly. âAnd I, well. I donât really have any friends beyond Yuuji,â âYouâre not even sure if Tsumiki still sees you as a friendâ âEven if I may have acquaintances like Sasaki or Iguchi it still feels like Yuujiâs one of the only people I can give that kind of title to, so, um⌠the more the merrier?âÂ
âThatâs⌠nice.âÂ
â...it is, isnât it?âÂ
âThank you.âÂ
Why? âOkay.âÂ
The two of you go through the next few seconds in silence, time feeling like itâs blending and bleeding into a mix of years and events. You can hear the light, steady sound of his breathing from the other line. If you could, youâd sleep to itâ fuck the phone bill, youâll be the one paying it in your fatherâs stead this time if it was for this.Â
Itâs comforting, and you donât want to break itâ the quiet. If he can hear you now, can hear how youâre breathing through a smile with your chest only slightly moving, you hope it feels the same as the sound of his breathing did for you. You hope it feels just like home. Like a warm pillow in the one place you love the most that you bury your head into when the weather gets especially cold.Â
âFushiguro!âÂ
Oh dear.Â
Wincing at the sound of the creaking doorâs shrill shriek as it's opened and then hits the wall, you know exactly who it isâ youâd recognise that voice anywhere.Â
âIs that Yuuji?âÂ
âOi! I told you not to barge into my room like that!â Megumi shouts.Â
âHuh? Youâre calling someone? Sorry. Wait, is it [Name]?âÂ
âItâs none of your business.âÂ
âHi, Yuuji.âÂ
âCan I talk to her?âÂ
âIs it alright if we do, Megumi? Just for a few seconds.âÂ
âFine,â he sighs. You can practically hear that eye roll.Â
âYo!â he cheers.Â
âHas everything been okay lately?â you ask.Â
âYeah. Weâre meeting a new student soon.â
âAh, yeah. Megumi told me.âÂ
ââOh, and my uniform came in! It looks pretty neat.âÂ
âThatâs good. Maybe you can send me a picture once you start wearing it, then.âÂ
âI will!âÂ
Things are going better than you thought they would.Â
21-6-2018
Itâs been a few days now.Â
You donât know Sasaki and Iguchi well enough to call them friends, but the three of you do know each other. You had never decided to change any contacts with them, and considering that they and you were never closer than acquaintances, friends of a friendâ you had never really regretted it. But now that Yuuji is goneâ and you know heâs not dead, but stillâ you wonder whether you should have gotten closer to them, just to be less alone once Yuuji left, even if it could not be the way things were with Yuuji. (âI thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Likeâ I mean, youâre a lonely girl too sometimes, I think,â he had told you as you patched him up.)Â
Still, Yuuji and you were two peas in a podâ so theyâre bound to ask what happened to him soon enough, especially Iguchi.Â
Youâll have to start getting used to spending your Thursdays alone. And then youâd have to start getting used to every other day without him, too. If you went to the arcade or watched movies or sing-screamed the lyrics to English songs you donât know the Japanese translations of without his presence there, you know how it wouldnât feel the same. In life itâs not what you do that matters, youâve come to realiseâ itâs who youâre doing these things with. Thatâs what puts meaning to it all and makes all things done in your life worthwhile.Â
The two of them pass you by during lunch.Â
â[Last Name]? âOh, hey!â Sasaki says as she turns around.Â
You almost scream and run away like a mouse fleeing from the eyes of a vicious house cat, tremors in your voice. âHelloâŚâÂ
âWhereâs Yuuji, by the way? The occult clubâs going to fall apart without him.âÂ
You pause. âHe transferred to another schoolâŚâÂ
âHuh?â she goes, Iguchi almost reeling back in shock. âTransferred? But why? Weâve barely even made it to the middle of the year!âÂ
âI⌠I donât know, it was something really urgent,âÂ
23-6-2018Â
Your room is a cluttered messâ lucky as you are that itâs the weekend, the past week has been a rollercoaster that knocked your roomâs usual standard of cleanliness off track. Scattered all over your desk were worksheets, notebooks, graph paper pages and foolscap paper, chicken-scratch writing and meticulous notes scribbled all over them to compensate for your absence the day after the incident took place.Â
It isnât the time or the discipline you lackâ itâs just that itâs going to be awfully tedious. Youâll have to wipe your desk again, and clean the walls, and sort through all your clothes, too, since you havenât been folding them in any way that isnât merely fastidious and nearly careless. So as you get to work, you suppose that calling someone wouldnât hurt.Â
Maybe you could call Megumi. That would be okay.Â
For the past few years, youâve never noticed it. So when you do, it hits you like a bullet train at the fastest of speeds.Â
You miss him. Not just in the way you miss 2010, the way you miss the past, the way you miss and mourn the person you used to be. It had been so obvious for Tsumiki, but not for him, and now that you know this itâll be another quiet revelationâ another rediscovery of fragments of yourself concealed by memories.Â
You miss himâ all of him; you yearned to be his friend again because he was unlike Tsumiki who you knew cherished you as you did her; you miss him regardless of who he is now, because somewhere inside him is the boy who read dog books and brought you to the school library and ran your finger through water when you burned it. Somewhere inside him is the person who offered to hold your bag as he walked with you through a snowy garden, and helped you when your nose bled.Â
So it would be okay to call Megumi right now.Â
âFushiguro speaking.âÂ
âHi, Megumi. Are you busy?âÂ
âNot right now.âÂ
âWant to call?âÂ
âFushiguro!â Itâs Yuuji. âWanna goââÂ
âI said Iâm not going!âÂ
You chuckle, âBe nice. Were the two of you supposed to go somewhere?âÂ
âNothing important. Gojo said he wanted us to âbondâ with each other, so he concluded that we could watch a movie. Some kind of gory horror film or something.âÂ
Heâs⌠actually making an obvious effort not to scold Yuuji that much or call him some insulting, derogatory term this time⌠wow.Â
âAh, yeah. Yuuji likes his horror movies.âÂ
âAnyway, anything urgent you wanted to tell me?âÂ
âNo, Iâm just⌠uhââ you laugh nervously, âIâm just a little bored.â Nowadays youâre not really sure what heâd doâ scold you, maybe, or roll his eyes so hard that you can hear it over the line, or he may even flash into a quick bit of awkwardness and hesitation through his words.Â
Or maybeâ and this was the worst of it all, heâd ask why you were calling him, and his bouts of awkwardness would have only been something temporary, soon to be replaced once again by anger and annoyance, the same he gives to everyone elseâ even if you knew he didnât always mean it, per se. No more special treatment for you.Â
âOh.âÂ
âYeah, uh⌠I have to clean, and usually itâs not as much as what I have to do today, so I just thought that since the only other person in the house is my father and we donât really talk much anymore, we could, um⌠chat for a while. Yeah.âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
âUh-huh, so.â You stand up, leaving your phone on your desk and putting the call on speaker mode. The mountain of papers and books is a wasteland and your desk has been degraded to a landfillâ the state of it would make your mother a wailing messâ no, sheâd faint instantly as soon as she saw it, becoming worse of a mess than the table itself was. âAnything interesting happened lately?âÂ
âNot really.âÂ
âOhâ! Yuuji sent me a picture of his uniform the other day. Was that one special?âÂ
âYeah. But they let students make adjustments to the uniform, and he said he hadnât changed anything, so I think that was Gojoâs doing.âÂ
âOh, well, thatâs Gojo. It suits him, though, right? Not to sound mean or be presumptuous, butâŚâ you chuckle, âWhen you wear the uniform, you look so formal. Itâs not a bad thingâ itâs just that Yuujiâs just always been more casual like that. And the red of the hoodie goes with his hair, too!âÂ
âI guess so.âÂ
âI canât imagine you wearing anything other than the default uniform, though. Not to insult you, I mean, you still look good in the normal uniform, I justâ canât imagine it.â You remark, sorting the materials and books by size and subject. Youâve got to handle some of the drawers, too, now that youâve started and canât stop your momentum just yet. You can already feel the dust particles that have gathered on whatever is inside them still, jostling around once youâve taken them out.Â
âIf youâre going to say it like that, you can just say it outright.âÂ
âNo, no! I mean that I just canât imagine you wearing, like, Yuujiâs uniform. Wait, what do the other studentsâ uniforms look like?âÂ
âThe second years?âÂ
âYeah. Did they choose the normal ones?âÂ
âInumaki did. They have three boys and one girl, but only two of the boys wear the normal uniform. Okkotsu has a special uniform in white.âÂ
âOh, I see,â you nod your head, âItâs a nice uniform, though. I wish I could wear a uniform that pretty.âÂ
âYou could always enrol yourself here,â he suggests, âTheyâd welcome you with open arms.âÂ
âMaybe they will,â you chuckle, âBut my mother would be adamant on me staying in the ânormalâ world. Sheâs unyielding like that.âÂ
âAnd your father?â
âWouldnât mind, at least I donât thinkâŚâ you say, âIâll have to wonder when to tell him if I do end up in jujutsu high; you never know when heâs mad. Heâs always unpredictable like that nowadays and itâs not⌠particularly pleasant.âÂ
âI see. It would be good if you were here, though. You would be closer to Dr Ieiri that way. And it would do good, because, um⌠well, Iâd like you here. Youâd be⌠good for the people around you here.âÂ
âAh, youâ you would?â you ask, slightly phasedâ not like he hasnât been a bit nicer to you since youâve seen him again (maybe it was the awkwardness, maybe it was the guilt). âThank you,â you say, the corners of your mouth tugging up sheepishly, heading to the dusty drawer (you havenât touched it in what feels like years, usually excluding it from your list of things to clean).Â
After a scrupulous amount of wiping away at the dust outside of and surrounding it, you open the drawer with a slight bit of anticipationâ you donât expect much, but youâre a person who lingers on the past like a ghost that has forgotten how time has passed. There wouldnât be much in this drawer to reminisce on, you presume, but you still approach it with an eager fascinationâ youâre the type to do so, after all.Â
Of everything there, the most noteworthy are two things you grabbed almost immediatelyâ you could never forget how they felt, and the weight that they held in your life back then: a letter, addressed but never delivered to the person you were talking to right now, and a cigarette with a hastily scribbled slew of numbers on it and a lipstick mark on its end.Â
Oh, that letter. That letter. Â
From what you remember, youâve never rebelled against your parents before. At least, not with anything majorâ for a long time, you were their good girl, and you never disobeyed them, as much as you wanted to at times. You still are, still stuck with that age-old drive to be useful. (But was there even a point in that anymore? At least, was there one with your parents?). You didnât picture yourself as any kind of righteous goody-two-shoes, but you definitely werenât a rebel or a delinquent. You followed their instructions and seldom ever questioned what they told you, and so it had always been subtly implanted in your brain that they would be alright with anything you did or said. Yet the first time you did actually start to question them, you realised that their belief in your âobedienceâ as pure loveâ and maybe it was; you loved them so much you were blinded and trusted them with everything and did anything they wanted their baby to doâ you realised they only treated you so lovingly if you were not an actual person with your own ideals and beliefs.Â
(But they still loved you, right?)Â
Even now, you still do obey them and listen to them. If your father needed anything, he could consider it done; if your mother wanted her clothes to be patched up youâd try your utmost best to withstand the pricking of needles and bring it back to her hospital room with bandaged fingers. It was like that with your mother: even if at times it seemed like the only pain she wanted for you was callouses from a pen or pricks from needles, at other times you feel she could have known youâd end up like her, maybe. Maybe she saw it as a curse: the worlds the two of you were born in were different, and she wanted you to stay in yours, lest you die or live in a world of endless pain.Â
Youâve been doing it for a long time: being dismissive of yourself, prone to self-prostration, subservient; the lovingness of a mother, the sweetness of a teenage girl (you hoped), the kindness of a caring friend. Maybe it was Tsumikiâ maybe it was because youâd always seen this in Tsumiki. She was always smiling, always caring; taking on the weight of motherhood before she could carry the weight of her school bag. Hugging you with her saccharine smile; braiding her hair with gentle hands and holding your wrist with her hair tie on it even gentler. (You still have it with you. You had planned to start taking it off more once Yuuji left, but you suppose some habits take longer than a week to develop.) All while having that sickening, fantastical, mysterious sweetness of a teenage girl in what you now understand could have been a hidden miseryâ because caring for someone like a mother while suppressing the thoughts that spoke to you to act like a child was something you wanted to replicate until you realised you understood it. And then you no longer wanted to recreate it. (Maybe that was the way it was for every woman or girl you knew: watching someone you loved hurt themself or not being able to do anything to prevent it when they started. Life was a cycle that way. A very annoying, frustrating one full of unfortunate circumstances and wrongly-picked out decks of cards.)Â
ââŚyou know what? I think I may be able to come,â you tell him.Â
âYou donât have to go against your father for our sake.âÂ
âNo, donât worry about it. I think I know who to ask for help. Thank you, Megumi.âÂ
âHi, Dr Ieiri?âÂ
âKid? That you?â she goes, the slightest bit of excitement stark against her usual deadpan tone. âI thought youâd never call because of that old man.âÂ
âHaha, yeahâ sorry to disturb you, but, um, Dr Ieiri? I may want to take you up on that offer, by the way, but um, Iâm still on the fence. I mean, I know I want to be like you and do what you do but⌠I donât know, Iâm not quite sure about leaving the two of them alone here and all. But anyway, I just called you because I wanted to ask if there was, you know, any way you could get me to Tokyo somehow. I need to pass something to someone, but, um⌠I guess Iâm going with this with the hope that Iâll change my mind and join you. But Iâm⌠perpetually on the fence for now, I guess.âÂ
âPft,â she snorts, âYou little rebel, Iâm in. Iâll see what I can do.âÂ
âThank you so much.âÂ
24-6-2018Â
The decision and the plan were made as swiftly as you could.Â
You decide to tell your fatherâ you wouldnât want to deceive him, after all. At least, youâd give him a quick notice. And then youâd leave. Like a snowflake before the first day of spring. Heâll probably tell your mother. Â
âIâm leaving for Tokyo for a while,â you say, âIâll be back before you can even realise Iâm gone. Invitation from Dr Ieiri.âÂ
25-6-2018
âWhy?â your father asks, the night before you leave. He suggested going out together at least once before you left. He always knew when you were making white lies.Â
âI guess that maybe Iâm just too much like you, Daddy.âÂ
For the first time in years he hugs you on the doorstep, patting you on the back on the day youâre set to leave. âMake sure you study and work hard,â he reminds you.Â
âIâm leaving for Tokyo,â you announce.
âI canât believe youâre leaving us for a boy,â she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesnât even blink.Â
âIâm not.â You are.Â
âYou know, your father travelled all over the country to see me again after weâd first met.âÂ
âOh. Okay?âÂ
âAnd heâs always been dedicated to his job and dedicated to helping people.âÂ
âUh huh.âÂ
âIâm saying that the two of you are very similar. Iâve lived through this story before,â she states, âAnd you look just like your father right now.â your mother says. She hasnât smiled the way she used toâ you remember it vividly, that vibrant gleam in her, the liveliest and loveliest of lifeâ in ages and you donât think she will, not now of all times.Â
âReally? Sometimes he says I take after you more.âÂ
âYou will.âÂ
It doesnât feel like a curse. Even if it usually would make your heart well up in guilt, it doesnât feel like a curse.Â
Maybe she knows that her time is running out. Maybe this is resignation. Whatever it is, you hold her hand first, but youâre also the first one to let the other go, your fingers slipping away from hers. You leave the door for the last time in a while, making another round in your life of that carousel of abandonment and reuniting and departures.Â
25-6-2018Â
Dr Ieiri greets you with a calm smile on her pallid face.Â
âGood to see you again.âÂ
âItâs good to be back here,â you sigh.Â
It is.Â
You keep your hand on your other handâs wrist, holding them in front of you. The cherry hair tie on it feels warm against your skin as you exit the station, summer heat embracing it softly.Â
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning
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chapter synopsis:
'âWhy else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality itâs just what I want to happen. But this is why Iâm so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.â
You havenât told her you love her too in years.'
'And Itadori seems⌠like a good person. I think itâs good, that⌠you were able to find a friend like that.â
âIt was. Heâs a really, really good guy.â
âYou love him a lot,â Megumi says.
---
You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).
You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.
word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)
17-6-2018Â
The two of you walk down the lane. Itâs midnight. Thereâs a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when youâre not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there.Â
At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but itâs of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway.Â
Thereâs a million things you could say to him right now, things youâll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things youâll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now youâre holding his wrist and thatâs enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each otherâ not togetherâ in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before.Â
If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that youâre sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky.Â
âThe turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.âÂ
âI know the routes better,â you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming forâ you hope it doesnât hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, âI got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.âÂ
Youâre not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you werenât.Â
Itâs strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter.Â
And now youâre thisâ this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be usefulâ and even that has been exacerbated by how youâve grown, how youâve become this person you grew into. And a part of youâ no, just you as a wholeâ doesnât like yourself at all.Â
Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caringâ you donât know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time youâd cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself.Â
That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But youâd been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now thereâs a space for her thatâs left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you donât want her back. Now thatâs just what makes you miserable sometimes.Â
Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road.Â
âItâs here,â you state, pointing at the building in front of you.Â
Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasnât been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears.Â
âYou and that Itadori seem close.âÂ
âWe are,â you say, then you add, not really knowing why, âHeâs my best friend.â Maybe youâre trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldnât want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if youâd already resolved not to do so.Â
Youâll make sure not to do that again, though.Â
Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. âThen it seems you visit his grandfather often.âÂ
âUh-huh,â you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. âMy motherâs here, too.âÂ
âOh, Iâm sorryâ is she alright?âÂ
âSheâs okay, I⌠think. She⌠she got sick a while back and stays here now,â you explain, âLetâs not talk about thatâŚâI mean, I⌠donât really want to.âÂ
âIâm sorry.âÂ
âYou donât have to keep saying that.â It just makes people feel worse.Â
He doesnât push further and you suppose thatâs okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound thatâs still there. Thereâs not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe itâs being a girl, maybe itâs being a teenager, but itâs not quite either, you guess.Â
âHe wonât be here for a while,â you say, âHeâs either still in the room where his grandfather is or heâs buying flowers for him.âÂ
âThen Iâll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.âÂ
Whoâs âthemâ?Â
âOkay.â You turn your back on him, ââwait.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âDo you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?âÂ
â...why would you need one?â he questions.Â
You roll your eyes, âJust give it to me, damn it⌠if thereâs anything I have nowadays, itâs probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.âÂ
He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Whyâd he have to be so pissy about anything and everything?Â
âOkay, thanks. Iâm going to visit my mother now.âÂ
The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was.Â
âHi, Mummy.âÂ
She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from itâ that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy.Â
The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, youâve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isnât waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there.Â
Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facingâ regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didnât want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from.Â
Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didnât want to liberate herself from it anyway, and youâd never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (Youâd regret everythingâ not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enoughâ except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and isâ your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.âÂ
âHello. Whereâs that Itadori boy?âÂ
âNot here today, heâs still with his grandfatherâ maybe later.â You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. âIâve something for you, by the way.âÂ
âOh! These,â she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. âI used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.âÂ
âI know,â you explain, âThatâs why I made them. I donât like them anymore, but⌠I canât remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you donât like the food they give you here as much as⌠I donât know. Your own cooking, I guess.âÂ
âItâs not my favourite,â she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, âBut thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own motherâs cooking.âÂ
Silence.Â
âNow that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. Iâd like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your fatherâsâ at least you would not leave the world with regret,â she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. âBut it was a good life.âÂ
â...then maybe you can tell me more. While youâ while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?â It feels strange, imposturous, maybeâ to be referring to someone basically a stranger as âgrandmotherâ, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your motherâs. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. Thereâs a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once youâd grown, but thereâs a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time.Â
She sighs, âIâll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,â she begins, âIâll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway.Â
âMy parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I canât remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving.Â
âI still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demureâ and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didnât have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my fatherâs bullheaded industry and my motherâs patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my motherâs family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just⌠surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I⌠suppose they didnât love me enough. I know it sounds awfulâ thinking that they should have always protected me, through and throughââÂ
âNo, it wasnât.âÂ
ââwhen it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.âÂ
âBut they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parentsââÂ
âWhy else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality itâs just what I want to happen, but this is why Iâm so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.â You havenât told her you love her too in years.Â
âBut then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldnât help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,â she continues, âEven though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.âÂ
Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father.Â
âAnd now the clanâs faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?âÂ
â...yeah.â It all ended well, but you donât know if you can say the same for your motherâs. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did.Â
Then suddenly thereâs a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue.Â
âYou should go get that first,â she says.Â
â...okay.âÂ
You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you havenât called in months because youâd given up on that bastardâ oh. The two of you were working together now.Â
You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
âI just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he⌠doesnât seem like the brightest. He may think that itâs not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.âÂ
You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, âHey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. Heâs way smarter than people give him credit for. But Iâmâ Iâm with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldnât need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.âÂ
â...fine. But youâll have to join us later. Heâs bound to ask about you.âÂ
âThen just tell him Iâm with my mother!â you snap, still whispering.Â
âIâll see what I can do.âÂ
âWhâ you littleâ oh, donât you hang up nowââÂ
Weird thing is, he probably wasnât even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldnât have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically.Â
Youâd sworn to put that past you.Â
Your immaturity strikes once again.Â
âIf you have to go now,â your mother says, âYou should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].â She doesnât call you âdarlingâ anymore, doesnât she? Just your name.Â
âOkay. Sorry.âÂ
You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room.Â
âItâs okay,â she assures you, âGoodbye. I love you.âÂ
â...I love you, too,â you say, but itâll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and itâll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room.Â
âHi, Yuuji,â you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, â...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.âÂ
âOh, hey; itâs okay!â he goes, although in his voice it seems that thereâs been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. âDidnât know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?âÂ
âSomething like that,â Megumi explains.Â
âItâs a long story,â you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, thereâs a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. âAnyway, are you okay, Yuuji? Howâs your grandfather?âÂ
He pauses. âOh, about that⌠he just passed away.âÂ
âOh, Iâm so sorry, YuujiâŚâ you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his handâ it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage.Â
âItâs okay, Iâll be fine,â he smiles as you pull yourself away, âGrandpa wouldnât want me to be crying right now anyway. So donât worry.âÂ
âOkay, I wonât. But if youâre sad, just know you can always talk to me.âÂ
He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, âYeah, I know.âÂ
Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, âAnyway. Itadori YuujiââÂ
âJust call him Itadori. You donât have to be so uptight.âÂ
âNah, [Name], Iâm fineââÂ
Megumi sighs. âAnyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.âÂ
âOh, yeah, that,â you start, âSo, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.âÂ
âYeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didnât have it already, but hereâs the box,â he says, tossing it over to Megumi.Â
He retrieves the box. Itâs ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. Youâve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldnât beâÂ
He opens the box.Â
Holy shit.Â
âWhere is it?âÂ
âItâs emptyâŚâ Megumi panics, âWaitâ hold on!âÂ
Things are badâ as in, they couldnât get any worseâ not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomenâs finger itself.Â
You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything soonerâ if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldnât even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You shouldâve tried harder to sense it, and you shouldâve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound.Â
It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, youâd still have the most to be blamed for.Â
Megumi has a hand on Yuujiâs shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock.Â
â...well, they were saying, âletâs open it up to see whatâs inside it tonightâ,â Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, âWhy? Is that bad?âÂ
Sasaki and Iguchi?Â
The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such.Â
âItâs way worse than bad,â Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. âYour friends are going to die.âÂ
âWeâve got to go,â you rush, âNow! Quick!âÂ
It passes by like a blur, as if youâre in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems itâs being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why youâre runningâ as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didnât need your mind for.Â
Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger.Â
You didnât know them all too well, reallyâ just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasnât as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldnât be able to live after that.Â
The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to themâ oneâs a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, youâre sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didnât think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gatesâ the ones that you and Yuuji use when youâre running super lateâ in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chancesâ it was unlikely that theyâd be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen.Â
âIs that the building?â Megumi questions, âWhere are they?âÂ
âFourth floorâ guh!â Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil.Â
âYuuji!âÂ
âIâll handle this,â Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him.Â
âI may not know those two that well, butââ Yuuji starts, âBut theyâre friends! I have to help!âÂ
âYouâre staying here,â Megumi commands, â[Name], if you couldâ get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.âÂ
He climbs over the gate.Â
Heâs going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. Thereâs nothing elseâ nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldnât be able to help exceptâ what?â tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasnât possible with how much youâd strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadnât even started with the basics of that yet, on your fatherâs obstinate insistence that even if heâd let you play doctor he wouldnât let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, youâd just die, and thereâd be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone.Â
You canât even call your father, either. That would always be your last resortâ because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didnât want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all.Â
(You were selfish. You didnât want to lose your father. You didnât want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.)Â
âYuuji?â you start, turning to him. âYouâreâŚdeathly quiet. Are you okay?âÂ
His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying?Â
âYuuji, look at me. Are you okay?â you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. âItâs okay. âŚMegumiâs a good and⌠capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. Heâll be okay, and theyâll be okay too. Just⌠just put your trust in him, okay?âÂ
âIâm sorry, [Name], but Iâve got to go,â he tells you, âYou stay here, and call for help or something. Iâm sorry, but Iâve just really got to do it!âÂ
He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish heâd hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longerâ it was your last way to be useful now.Â
Still, thereâs someone you could call, now that you remember him.
The emergency contact.Â
You snatch your phone out, resolute.Â
âHello! Gojo Satoru speaking,â the voice on the other line says.Â
Youâve heard it plenty before by accident.Â
When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuujiâs in the form of a figure slung over Gojoâs shoulders like heâs been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. Thereâs barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from.Â
The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead.Â
âWhâ you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? WhatââÂ
âCalm down, kid,â Gojo says, âTheyâll be fine. I mean, thereâs a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, butâŚâÂ
âExecuted?â you almost scream, âWhat the hell happened? You said things would be okay!âÂ
âUh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we donât even know when theyâre gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukunaâs finger, by the way.â He holds his arms up in faux surrender.Â
âGojo you ignorant slut! Donât you fucking dare tell me to âcalm down!â He ate Sukunaâs finger? Why werenât you able to stop anything? Whatâs going to happen to him now? You know whatâ give him to me!âÂ
âYou know, itâs not like Iâm scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed techniqueâ I mean, Iâm leagues stronger than himâ but the stuff was too strong. Itâs not like youâll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.âÂ
âHeâs not her boyfriend!â Megumi interjects.
âThank you, Megumi!â Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind.Â
âOh?â Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. âAnyway, weâre going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.âÂ
Theyâre going to execute him at Jujutsu High after. Â
âIâm coming with you.âÂ
âYou sure?â Gojo asks, âYour father isnât going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.âÂ
Megumi shifts, a little sombre. â[Name], you donât have to.âÂ
â...Iâm doing this for Yuuji, not for you.âÂ
âYou okay?â Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchiâs been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. âIâve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since itâs so late, huh?âÂ
The whole situation is so incredulous youâre unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone.Â
â...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.âÂ
Everyone is asleep, it seemsâ all except for you and Gojo. Yuujiâs been knocked out, and Megumiâs stuck in the world of his dreams.Â
You canât sleep. Thereâs just nothing to put your mind at rest.Â
At least if thereâs one thing you can do itâs this.Â
Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. âWoahâ heâs pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.âÂ
You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyesâ Sukunaâs eyelids, youâve been told.Â
You shouldâve done more to protect him.Â
Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines.Â
Nothing happens. You canât picture his cells being able to grow back. Itâs as if thereâs been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells donât budge.Â
âWhy donât you help Megumi? I bet heâs got plenty of healable injuries.âÂ
ââŚI donât think Iâll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. Itâs better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.âÂ
âPft,â he scoffs, âShoko? Sheâs definitely not going to heal all of him. Itâll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And Iâll even tell her that you did it. Sheâs really fond of you, you know.âÂ
You give him a shy, modest smile. âThanks, then.â
Itâs time to get to work.Â
Megumiâs skin is smooth like a babyâs just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decadesâ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work.Â
Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. âI canât really work on the one on his head, since then youâd get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because Iâve already kind of catalysed the start of that areaâs healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. Iâll give it, say⌠two weeks or so for it to get better completely.âÂ
âGood work!â he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold.Â
âBy the way, Mr GojoâŚâÂ
âYou know, I appreciate the respect youâre giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.âÂ
âOkay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?âÂ
âI mean, Iâm pretty sure. And Iâm going to ask them to suspend his sentence. Iâll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.âÂ
âThatâs the thing. Iâm not sure if he even will.âÂ
Gojo laughs. âDonât worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! Iâm sure theyâll listen to me, anyway.âÂ
âThank you,â you sigh. Thank goodness. âIf you need any type of payment, um⌠teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.âÂ
âNah, reverse cursed techniqueâs got me covered.âÂ
âOh, waitâ I forgot about thatâ um⌠I canâŚâ
âJust leave it to me! No payment required,â he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. âAnd for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.âÂ
You wouldnât have imagined that would happen. Megumiâ pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually isâ no, wasâ at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone heâd only just met, to be spared.Â
âReally?â you ask, âI⌠wouldnât have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just⌠really kind tonight or somethingâŚâ
âWell, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,â Gojo suspects, âBut if thereâs one thing for sure itâs that your old friend saved your new one.âÂ
â...oh.âÂ
Youâll have to bring it up with him next timeâ maybe, if heâs still there tomorrowâŚ
âI know youâre mad at him, but a lot has happened,â Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacherâs, âStill, I wonât tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you donât want to, you donât have to thank him or anything. Iâm sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didnât deserve to if it were you.âÂ
You pause. âNo, itâs just⌠Iâll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.âÂ
18-6-2018Â
The aftershocks are still there, although youâve come out unscathed.Â
Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. Youâd tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi.Â
(You were useless. You couldnât help anyone. You couldnât prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldnât help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldnât help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soonâ)Â
Sasakiâs injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally.Â
You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your motherâs), your father calling you once the sun had risen.Â
âGojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.âÂ
âYeah. I know youâll scold me, but⌠not now. Iâm sorry, Iâm just really tired.â You hang up.Â
For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most uselessâ you couldnât help them, you couldnât help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adultâs help like a little, scared and helpless girl.Â
You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years.Â
Thereâs a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. Itâs Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not?Â
Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a momentâs respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people doâ no, you donât deserve such a break at all, youâre absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, youâll remind yourself of that again and again and againâ the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you donât like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, sheâd disagreeâ maybe sheâd tell you that you should be a mother, maybe sheâd ignore that you were also a child at certain timesâ the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someoneâs caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called âadultâ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe sheâd remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldnât be like that in any way.Â
But you wouldnât put it past her.Â
âYuuji, are you okay?â There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but youâre just happy heâs alive at this point.Â
âYeah.â His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. âHi, [Name].â It feels so unignorable, the way itâs filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down.Â
âI thought thatââ you start, lips trembling, âI thought there was a chance I couldnât lose you. The only thing I could do wasââ you sniffle, âHope that they could delay it or something.âÂ
âYeah. Iâll explain it later,â he says, his voice sincere.Â
You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. âDonât do things like that ever again,â you plead, âPromise me that at least.âÂ
âI promise.âÂ
âAnd keep your promises.â
âI will.âÂ
â...want to come inside?âÂ
He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him.Â
âSorry I came so late,â he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. âHello, Sasaki,â he greets, âIs Iguchi okay?âÂ
They speak for a whileâ you donât feel like itâs much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. Theyâve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours.Â
When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that sheâs going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time.Â
You let her, patting her on the back. Youâll call them laterâ sheâd given you her contactâ just to check on the two of them.Â
âWhereâs Megumi?â you ask Yuuji.Â
âOh, Fushiguro? Iâm not too sure, but that Gojo guy said heâll be there soon.âÂ
âWhere, though?â
Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. âActually, another reason why I came here was also because⌠I mean, I know you and him werenât close, but Iâm going to the place where theyâll keep Grandpaâs ashes, and I think⌠you know, you could come with me. I⌠I donât think Iâd be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didnât want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and youâre my friend. So⌠could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.âÂ
â...mhm. Iâll always be happy about that,â you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. Youâve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts.Â
The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you.Â
âBefore he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He⌠kind of cursed me, if Iâm being honest,â Yuuji starts. âHe said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And Iâm going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I⌠I think I want to help people that way.âÂ
âYouâve already helped people enough. You helped me,â you almost tell him.Â
You frown, because thatâs the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. âIâm⌠disappointed, Iâ I know I should be grateful, grateful that youâre still going to be alive and all, but⌠youâre still going to be in danger, and youâre still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy youâre going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things donât go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?âÂ
Youâre selfish like that. In a way, youâre just the way your mother is. You shouldâve always knownâ you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that.Â
âDonât worry,â he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. âIâll be just fine. Iâm a strong kid, after all. And weâll always be friends!âÂ
Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice.Â
Yuuji canât stay with you forever. In the same way you canât remain by your mother and fatherâs sides for all eternity.Â
This wonât be the last time youâre here, you think. For a place of death, itâs quite a bit beautiful how thereâs such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it.Â
Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him.Â
âMegumi.âÂ
He turns around.Â
âI just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically⌠um⌠I didnât expect that youâd still be here. Are your injuries okay?âÂ
âIâm okay,â he answers you. âAnd also, IâŚâ he hesitates, the first time heâs talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long timeâ nearly two years if youâre counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. âI didnât really do it for you, though. It⌠it was for Tsumiki.âÂ
âOh.â
âWait! Iâm sorry, that didnât⌠come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldnât have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.âÂ
âNo, no, it wasnât your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. Thereâs not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought⌠even if I canât do as much yet, since I donât have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if theyâre dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um⌠make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. Iâd keep to it anyway, because Iâm stubborn, but⌠yeah. It wasnât your fault, really.âÂ
âOkay. Thatâs good to hear.âÂ
âYeah. Anyway, Iâm happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.âÂ
Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward.Â
âShe is. And Itadori seems⌠like a good person. I think itâs good, that⌠you were able to find a friend like that.âÂ
âIt was. Heâs a really, really good guy.âÂ
âYou love him a lot,â Megumi says.Â
âI do. Heâs a really good friend. If thereâs something Iâll always know I know that, at least.âÂ
âI can see that. It doesnât seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.âÂ
â...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.âÂ
âLetâs just⌠change the subject.âÂ
âYouâre the one who introduced it in the first place.âÂ
âOkay. How⌠how are you?âÂ
âIâm good. Wait, I think you should⌠go back to them. Maybe theyâll need you there right about now. Heâs probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?âÂ
He pauses. âYeah. Iâm sorry, [Name].âÂ
âNo, no. Thatâs okay. I expected it. Itâs just that Iâll miss him a lot,â you tell him, âHe took care of me, kind of. You know Iâve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.âÂ
Sounds pretty familiar, huh.Â
âIf you want I can make sure heâs safe for you.âÂ
â...you should be able to do that regardless of whether itâs my wish for you to do so or notâŚâ you state, âBut that would help, I guess. And Iâm sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.âÂ
â...Iâm sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,â he says abruptly. âBy the wayâ? Classic MegumiâŚÂ
âI could tell you were. Itâs⌠itâs okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.âÂ
All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonmentâ and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end.Â
âIâll explain it all one day.âÂ
âYou donât have to if itâs hard.âÂ
He stays. âNo, I will. I promise. And I promise Iâll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just⌠scared of a few things, maybe.âÂ
âThatâs okay.âÂ
The two of you arenât quite friends again yet, but itâll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesnât, youâre finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesnât matter as much anymore.Â
âI guess this is goodbye again, then.âÂ
âNot really.âÂ
âOh, rightâ promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,â you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again.Â
âPromise.âÂ
âIâm going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and Iâll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.âÂ
âI will.âÂ
âAnd help me say goodbye to him for me,â you add, âHope thatâs not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. Itâs just that Iâd actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. Thatâs the one thing that I wish for the most.âÂ
âBye, Megumi.â You turn back in the direction opposite of his.Â
âWaitâ!âÂ
His hand is on your wrist. Now youâre in front of him, like yesterday, and heâs holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago.Â
His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way thatâs a bit abashed. âIâll miss you, [Name].âÂ
âIt wonât even feel like Iâm not there,â you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if heâd let you be free of it if you want him to.Â
You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like thereâs blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than itâs ever been.Â
âGoodbye.âÂ
âGoodbye, [Name]. Iâll⌠Iâll call.âÂ
âThank you.âÂ
Now youâre the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open.Â
2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didnât feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didnât feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someoneâs beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie.Â
You want to cry as you walk back home.Â
Youâre pretty sure you do.Â
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SHUTT UPPPP YOU HAVE A MEGUMI FIC SERIES??? I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THAT SINCE FOREVERRR (omw to binge read)
WIWNSJSNSN I JUST SAW THIS SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLYYY
OMGOMG YES!! I DO!! AAAAA I THINK I SAW YOU IN THE NOTES TOO
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! â¤ď¸ I HOPE IT MATCHES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS <333
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ă FALLING FOR YOU ă
â characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta
â contents: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, gn reader
synopsis: who fell first and who fell harder
ITADORI YUJI â˝ he fell first, and he fell harder
Let's be honest, this poor boy has gone through so much. And to have someone who reciprocates his feelings? He felt like he was on cloud nine when he learned that you thought the same thing; "I love you too, Yuji." So much so that he made you repeat it again and again until he was forcefully pulled away by Megumi and Nobara, as you were too overwhelmed by Yuji's... several confessions?âpractically busy exploding in joy yourself to configure another thought.
Nothing in the entire world could be better than being with you for the rest of his life, and he made sure that you knew that there were no doubts.
Whatever or whenever it was, Yuji was at your beck and call. You may as well have compared him to a golden retriever-like boyfriend, because that was exactly what it was. He was so incredibly touched that you reciprocated his feelings, so much so that he wanted you to know for sure that he was devoted to you and only you. And in that regard, he indeed succeeded.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI â˝ you fell first, and you fell harder
No one, not Gojo, Yuji, Nobara, or even yourselfâwould've ever expected you to fall in love with such an aloof person, that person being the stone that is Fushiguro Megumi. Something that intrigued you from the moment you met him. It was shocking, and honestly, even refreshing, to see Megumi smiling. His stoic demeanour in saying practically anything, regardless of its seriousness, and his piercing, borderline terrifying gaze hid a plethora of emotions beneath that impassive tone of his, and try as you might, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him.
But as much as Megumi loved you, he also kept his distance from you. And that pained you to think that perhaps Megumi really didn't care about you as much as you thoughtâthat is, until you realized the reason for why. He just didn't want you to be in danger.He tried to keep you far away from him, but for that reason alone, you found yourself falling harder and harder for the boy who had captured your heart. All that he did, the danger that he put himself under, was for you. And before you even knew it, you found yourself hopelessly in love with the person who had now become the centre of your world.
GOJO SATORU â˝ you fell first, and he fell harder
At first, it was just a tiny crush. Perhaps even a little more. Because, let's be real, who wouldn't be at least somewhat attracted to the strongest sorcerer? At first, that's what you thought. There was no way that someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru would pay attention to an average sorcerer like yourself, right? Wrong.
As Utahime and Megumi would say with utter conviction, Gojo can be an arrogant bastard at times. He's aloof, confident, and charismatic, but he's also just an individual. You were the one who truly understood him. You loved him for who he wasânot for superficial reasons the rest of his world saw, but because he was a guy whose heart was genuine.
And he found himself falling for you, truly. He found himself loving and appreciating every part of you. To have someone so genuine, so open, unlike him, forced to view himself as merely "the strongest." He felt as though he could be weak around you. He fell hard for you and only you, and that would never change. Anything less would be a betrayal of your love.
OKKOTSU YUTA â˝ he fell first, and you both fell harder
I'd like to think that Yuta, for sure, has thoughts that he doesn't deserve to have you. So he stares from a distance. Everything that he did, the life that he lived, was cursed to a degree that nobody saw when he dared to acknowledge. He thought that you didn't deserve that. But even as he muttered those words to you that day, you looked at himânot with fear, not with disgust, not even with pity, but with sympathy and love.
His vulnerability, even when he was at his lowest, was undeniable. But that made you even more determined to help himâto be that person that Yuta could, for once in his life, lean on without reservation. His timid yet endearing personality drew you in, despite the darkness that surrounded him. But, unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen for you.
Yuta was enthralled, captivatedâenchanted evenâby all the kindness you showed him from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The way you would act like he was just an average person, regardless of the circumstances. He loved you for who you were, and you were the same.
Šgrammmarli. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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ă BEING THEIR SIBLING ă
synopsis: you were his beloved sibling, meant to stay far out of harms way, he would make damn sure of it
â characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi
â contents: fluff, angst, comfort, platonic, gn reader
gojo version | masterlist
ITADORI YUJI âż child reader
With all that Yuji has been through in his life, he, of course, feels a sense of responsibility and duty for the well-being of his family, blood-related or not.Â
Still at the age where letters in math could only be dreamt of in nightmares, Yuji found himself being the one to take care of you. And when his grandpa died, he was left, now alone, holding the bag.
Or so he thought.Â
You held onto his hand that day when he found out, a sombre look in your eyes.Â
Thats right⌠How could he be so selfish? He still had you.Â
He's very much a family guy, and he holds his family closest to his heart. And when he was told about youâgetting to keep you in his arms in the hospitalâhe knew what his duty was. As his baby sibling, Yuji did everything and anything to ensure that you were protected and cared for.
Yuji's mouth dropped. "CrapâŚ"
"Huh? What are you yapping about now?" Megumi scowled.
"I need to pick up [Y/n] from daycare!" he panicked, pacing back and forth. But it wasn't like he could suddenly leave, not like this spiky-haired individual staring daggers into him would let him⌠Well, not voluntarily, that is.
Megumi sighed, and he pulled out his phone. "I'm on it."
"What⌠are you doing?"
"Making a call. We'll have a trusted individual pick up your sibling."
"...I-I see."
Megumi looked at Yuji, who nodded. "Don't worry. They'll be out of harm's way."
That was all Yuji ever wanted.
But when everything in his life came to a head and he became the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses, your safety could no longer be guaranteed⌠not while Sukuna was still around, or rather, inside him.Â
Still, you loved being around him, and Yuji loved being around you. When everything was said and done, all of Yuji's worries about this sudden move to Tokyo went much better than expected.
As a young child, you were naive, but that may as well be thrown out the window because Yuji didn't give two shits about that. And just like Yuji, you were energetic, outgoing, and eager to see the new "world" you were in. You two were like two birds that flock together, for better or for worse.Â
The Tokyo studentsâmainly the infamously noisy ones Nobara and Panda while Maki, Megumi, and Toge watchedâwould pop in from time to time in his room, only to see you sleeping on Yuji's shoulder. At the same time, Yuji had a book in hand, previously to read to you but now used to block the sun from dancing on your face.
And a mystery to nearly everyone, even Yaga, the revered and arguably intimating headmasterâwith a stare enough to make any child under the age of 5 cryâcouldn't resist your charm. Your influence permeated every corner of Tokyo Jujutsu High until you were affectionately dubbed the school's unofficial mascot, much to your brother's horror.
And when Yuji went on missions or on days when the students had to train and go to classes, arguably the most responsible adult, Nanami Kento, was given the babysitter title of Yuji's sibling.
The othersâthat being Nobara, Gojo, and Panda; Megumi, Maki, and Toge would only watch with deadpan expressionsâcould only speculate on the origin of Yuji's surprising skills at cooking, but after doing some stalking investigating, and seeing you and Yuji in the itches together, teaching you how to cook, their hearts couldn't take it. That day, dozens of pictures were snapped and then plastered in Yuji's room.Â
Yuji would hold you in his arms, providing comfort and a safe haven. He was an older brother figure who would do anything and everything to protect his younger sibling, even if it meant hiding things from you. He carried all the weight, all the burdens, on his own in hopes of shielding you from the harsh realities of their world. One of Yuji's defining traits is his willingness to sacrifice himself for others, triggered by his grandfather's last words to him.
No way in hell could he ever let that happen againânot to you, who had such a long life ahead of you, not to anyone. Yuji would always joke around with you and have fun, protecting that youth he cherished with his soul.Â
You were just a kid, after all. You were just a kid when he died.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI âż older sibling reader
Unlike Yuji, Megumi would be the complete opposite.
As the oldest Fushiguro sibling, naturally, you took up the responsibility of caring for Megumi and Tsumiki. You were yet another child, the byproduct of Toji's fickle nature. You, Megumi, and Tsumiki were all from different mothers. God forbid there be another secret child you three haven't heard about yet. Still, the three of you couldn't have been more tightly knit. Megumi would beg to differ, only to have a chocolate milk carton thrown his way by Tsumiki. What a magical household of violence.Â
When he was younger, Megumi struggled, or rather, embraced his unruly bursts of temper, often resulting in scuffles with middle schoolers. He would probably be considered a problem child if it weren't for his straight A's. But that didn't matter to you, and you ensured you knew that.
Your swift reprimands would quash any budding notions of so-called "gang activity," cautioning him against a future as a "mafia leader." Needless to say, he wasn't impressed.
Regardless, he listenedâmuch to the jaw-dropping shock of anyone, especially those whom Megumi had previously beaten up.Â
Your genuine concern for himânot about what he did but about himâmade him angry.
He hated it, and yet he craved it.Â
You'd always urge him to take a breather and relax, all the while as the pile of beaten-up "gangsters" groaned in pain and agony. But that wasn't your concern. Occasionally, during those moments with a fuming teenager at your side, you'd treat him to meals out whenever you managed to steal a moment from your busy workday. Everything you did was for his well-being, regardless of the stress you were putting on your own shoulders. Because in your mind, your little brother didn't deserve all that he went through, and as mature as he was for his age, he still deserved to be a kid.
No one should be able to take away youth from children.
As a kid, he needed that sort of stability in his life. After enduring so much, simply having someone beside him meant everything to him.
And you did so in a way where you took on a mother-like figure in his life. Everything you did and every action you took was driven by your love and care for him and Tsumiki.Â
Even as a young third grader, Megumi keenly felt burdened by this factâthe weight of this responsibility, especially following his family's departure, Tsumiki's subsequent accident and being crippled and left in a coma in the hospital. Every first day of the month became a ritual for you and Megumi, visiting Tsumiki's bedside with a bouquet of flowers.Â
And during the days when nightmares haunted your sleep, Megumi would be woken up to you crying.Â
Neither would ever go on to utter a word about that.
Your absolute worst fear was for him to be injured or worseâto lose him to the dangerous path he might treadâand Megumi didn't have to be a genius to know what you were referring to.Â
In your eyes, you wanted to take him and Tsumiki away from the messiness of Jujutsu and the Zenin clan and live a peaceful life. From all the times that Megumi would see you sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of others, he knew your heart's desire.
But when that scheming manâGojo Satoruâpresented Megumi with a deal, promising a brighter future for Tsumiki and you, Megumi knew it was his turn to repay you for all you had done for him.
He wasn't sure if you would accept it, but he had to try.
"...Huh?"
Little did he know, you had expected it.
"You don't need to say anything else. I understand."
You smiled softly, continuing to make dinner as Megumi stood there, lost in thought.
"Whatever choice you make is up to you. This is your life," you said gently, turning to face him. "And I trust you to make the best decision for yourself and Tsumiki. After all, what sibling would I be if I didn't trust my own brother?" you laughed.Â
Megumi met your gaze. The stiffness in his shoulders eased as he took in your words and that smile of yoursâŚ
Your support meant the world to him.
"Thank you," he whispered, and you only smiled in response.
"Now!" you clapped. "Enough of that sappy stuff. Would you like to help me out with dinner?"
With a smile of his own, he nodded, "Of course," and made his way to the kitchen to lend a hand.
Yeah... this was what he was looking for. It was what filled the void he had been feeling.
With your acceptance, he felt more confident in accepting whatever was ahead of him. It didn't matter what happened to him. His own fate became inconsequential; his sole focus was on protecting you and his sister, Tsumiki.
You respected his choiceâyou always didâand that was why he cherished you so much.Â
You, his older sibling.
There was always an aura of maturity around Megumi, his friends thought (and surprisingly selfless, but they would never admit that to his face). Unbeknownst to them, it was all because of how he had to take care of himself after all the adult figures in his life left him, except for one person. His older sibling of 7 years, you.
He felt a sense of responsibility. He owed it to you after all that you've done. He wanted to prove to you that all your efforts to raise him weren't for naught.Â
All those nights when you thought Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep and would then cry yourself to sleep, or days when you would come back from work with a couple of injuries, or even the day when you came home with a bruise on your cheekâŚ
He wanted to prove to youâthat he could protect you, his family.
And then you could take a break and leave the rest to him.
Šgrammmarli. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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ha?
every single person who reblogs this
every
single
person
will get âdoot dootâ in their ask box
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@sushisimp FORREAL đ Iâve just been blasting the air cond for the past few days đĽ˛
f. megumi x reader | summer heat
âiâm bored.âÂ
âi know,â comes megumiâs exasperated reply.
this year the heat waves of tokyo have encroached on a new high, light spilling in abundance from windows sparse in number like water overflowing from a tiny cup. you wrap your balmy arms around his neck, sweat on his silky smooth skin and bleeding through the fabric of his shirt, nearly bare without his uniform jacket on.Â
âIâd blow air onto you, but it would just make you feel hotter,â you say, landing an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, your hands on your knees. he leans back on the edge of the bed in exhaustion, energy seeped out by the heat like blood sucked by a leech. curse japanese floors and carpetsâ always built for heat absorption in the winter. what if it was hotâ really hot, like now?Â
âitâs fine. itâs too hot for anything right now.âÂ
he has skin like snowâ you wonder if, with the scalding summer sun on him, heâs going to end up with tanned skin by the end of september.Â
heâs right, though. even with his hand on your back, precariously near to your waist, the two of you arenât set on doing anything and there isnât any air conditioning in his room either. so youâre stuck here, faces hot and breath hotter, necks sweaty and bodies sweatier.Â
you place your legs over his and your forehead against his collarbone, comfortable and calm, even with the sweltering heat. at this point everything in your mind is swimming through warm waves as you feel more sweat trickle down your cheek.Â
âI wish we had summer uniforms.âÂ
âIâll go buy a fan next time,â he whispers into your scalp. his breath fans against your head like steam. he moves his hand from the sweat of your back, looping his arm around your neck. âitâs too damn hot, I canât even think.âÂ
you nuzzle your nose into the very top of his chest for a moment, before raising your head to peck a spot on the crook of his neck. âfeels like an oven.âÂ
you donât mind the heat, though. not right now.Â
okay so this is horrible and really short but I wrote this earlier today while it was really hot just because it was really hot. there's not much to say; I live in malaysia. (this is going to flop but omg it's been SO HOT lately like. sweating all the time and i know i should expect it but STILL)
again, selamat hari raya!
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@romantichomicide95 :ooo oh my goodness itâs you!!!! Iâve read your work before itâs so good!!
I feel like I have to kowtow to you now sudnsjsns đââď¸ đââď¸ đââď¸, this is like youâre a professional looking at a rookieâs work
f. megumi x reader | summer heat
âiâm bored.âÂ
âi know,â comes megumiâs exasperated reply.
this year the heat waves of tokyo have encroached on a new high, light spilling in abundance from windows sparse in number like water overflowing from a tiny cup. you wrap your balmy arms around his neck, sweat on his silky smooth skin and bleeding through the fabric of his shirt, nearly bare without his uniform jacket on.Â
âIâd blow air onto you, but it would just make you feel hotter,â you say, landing an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, your hands on your knees. he leans back on the edge of the bed in exhaustion, energy seeped out by the heat like blood sucked by a leech. curse japanese floors and carpetsâ always built for heat absorption in the winter. what if it was hotâ really hot, like now?Â
âitâs fine. itâs too hot for anything right now.âÂ
he has skin like snowâ you wonder if, with the scalding summer sun on him, heâs going to end up with tanned skin by the end of september.Â
heâs right, though. even with his hand on your back, precariously near to your waist, the two of you arenât set on doing anything and there isnât any air conditioning in his room either. so youâre stuck here, faces hot and breath hotter, necks sweaty and bodies sweatier.Â
you place your legs over his and your forehead against his collarbone, comfortable and calm, even with the sweltering heat. at this point everything in your mind is swimming through warm waves as you feel more sweat trickle down your cheek.Â
âI wish we had summer uniforms.âÂ
âIâll go buy a fan next time,â he whispers into your scalp. his breath fans against your head like steam. he moves his hand from the sweat of your back, looping his arm around your neck. âitâs too damn hot, I canât even think.âÂ
you nuzzle your nose into the very top of his chest for a moment, before raising your head to peck a spot on the crook of his neck. âfeels like an oven.âÂ
you donât mind the heat, though. not right now.Â
okay so this is horrible and really short but I wrote this earlier today while it was really hot just because it was really hot. there's not much to say; I live in malaysia. (this is going to flop but omg it's been SO HOT lately like. sweating all the time and i know i should expect it but STILL)
again, selamat hari raya!
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f. megumi x reader | summer heat
âiâm bored.âÂ
âi know,â comes megumiâs exasperated reply.
this year the heat waves of tokyo have encroached on a new high, light spilling in abundance from windows sparse in number like water overflowing from a tiny cup. you wrap your balmy arms around his neck, sweat on his silky smooth skin and bleeding through the fabric of his shirt, nearly bare without his uniform jacket on.Â
âIâd blow air onto you, but it would just make you feel hotter,â you say, landing an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, your hands on your knees. he leans back on the edge of the bed in exhaustion, energy seeped out by the heat like blood sucked by a leech. curse japanese floors and carpetsâ always built for heat absorption in the winter. what if it was hotâ really hot, like now?Â
âitâs fine. itâs too hot for anything right now.âÂ
he has skin like snowâ you wonder if, with the scalding summer sun on him, heâs going to end up with tanned skin by the end of september.Â
heâs right, though. even with his hand on your back, precariously near to your waist, the two of you arenât set on doing anything and there isnât any air conditioning in his room either. so youâre stuck here, faces hot and breath hotter, necks sweaty and bodies sweatier.Â
you place your legs over his and your forehead against his collarbone, comfortable and calm, even with the sweltering heat. at this point everything in your mind is swimming through warm waves as you feel more sweat trickle down your cheek.Â
âI wish we had summer uniforms.âÂ
âIâll go buy a fan next time,â he whispers into your scalp. his breath fans against your head like steam. he moves his hand from the sweat of your back, looping his arm around your neck. âitâs too damn hot, I canât even think.âÂ
you nuzzle your nose into the very top of his chest for a moment, before raising your head to peck a spot on the crook of his neck. âfeels like an oven.âÂ
you donât mind the heat, though. not right now.Â
okay so this is horrible and really short but I wrote this earlier today while it was really hot just because it was really hot. there's not much to say; I live in malaysia. (this is going to flop but omg it's been SO HOT lately like. sweating all the time and i know i should expect it but STILL)
again, selamat hari raya!
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from âtake me back (take me with you)â, chapter 5:
@mechalily iwnsjsbsb I actually never thought about that!
(long explanation ahead)
one thing about the cancer though, is that though Iâve never stated what type it is, itâs probably something like myeloma or lymphoma (iirc?? I base things in the series a lot on my own experiences even if it isnât a self-insert haha).
I also canât remember if I stated this when [name]âs father introduced the technique, but usually users of cell manipulation canât really see (?) the cells just by touching that spot or anythingâ they really do have to study the biology behind it and visualise everything correctly for it to work (I think I did mention reader needing to use a microscope for their cursed technique in⌠chapter 2? chapter 3? oh dear, Iâm so sorryâ I canât remember TvT), so itâs quite a tricky technique to use and comes with more drawbacks than advantages, really⌠(the only advantage is that this could be used to heal. but even still, a person with rct like shoko could heal as well or even better without needing that biology knowledge necessary for cell manipulation).
basically, what Iâm getting at here is that the mother probably has a blood cancer, so her cancer cells are all around in her body. the father lacks the precision, probably, as well as the cursed energy to eradicate all her cancer cells, or to expedite any processes for T cells (if I remember correctly, thatâs what theyâre called) to get rid of her cancer cells. even if the father may have been an expert, age has certainly worn him down and now heâs probably,,, well. this isnât stated, because it isnât really important and I want people to decide how things are for themselves, but his daughter has nearly surpassed him at her young age.
I do admit that this was lazy writing on my part, thoughâ I wasnât able to think of that. but Iâve always thought of it like this: no matter what happens to the father or the mother, either of them canât do anything. even for [name]â even if they can affect her through words, in the end she can still ignore them regardless. while theyâre a source of motivation for her at times and a reason she does certain things, if either of them die or anything, all that the other can do is nothing at all. I hope that makes sense ;v;,,, Iâm also really sorry if I sound defensive throughout thisâ I promise Iâm not. Iâm just trying to come up with a reasoning for the plot to still hold up while explaining some things behind it as well đ. (that said, iâm not an expert on this or anything, so please feel free to correct me on what Iâve gotten wrong!! hehehe)
and about them being annoying hypocrites for parents,,, well,,, they do love her a lot, Iâll say that. sometimes our parents pull stuff like this even if theyâre wrongâ even if they love her, theyâre bound to screw up. [name] IS their only child, and they are quite immature people, still.
but thank you so much for commenting, and thank you again for commenting so quickly! Iâm actually quite happy that you brought this up, because I really like to explain the things behind this goofy, silly little series that I havenât had the chance to state or explain in the story itself.
so, thank you so much!! â¤ď¸ â¤ď¸ â¤ď¸ have a good day or night :) <333
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 5: mess
ao3 link for additional authorâs notes | playlist | prev | next | m.list
chapter synopsis:
'Sometimes theyâre all you can think about.
Itâs Megumiâs birthday today, and youâre awake just thinking about it. You ponder over whether you should see him, whether that would change anything.'
---
There is not one thing in your life, at this point, that's muddled up. You meet that doctor Megumi mentioned, though.
And Megumi himself, too.
word count: ~6k; tws: none for now,, but I do suggest that you read the author's notes on ao3 just because I explain why some of the things in the chapter are the way they are..
22-12-2017
Sometimes theyâre all you can think about.Â
Youâd taken up your fatherâs offer about a month after heâd announced it, hugging your mother and promising her that you wouldnât get hurt. She gave in, swallowed her words as if she was taking the baby girl sheâd spent hours in labour with and sending her to war.Â
Itâs Megumiâs birthday today, and youâre awake just thinking about it. You ponder over whether you should see him, whether that would change anything.Â
Tsumikiâs red hair tie sits on your desk like a treasure to watch over. You wear it every once in a while when you want to feel specialâ pretty, maybe, even if you may look a bit like a child. Either way, itâs your lucky charm, and youâre always wearing it or keeping it near where you are.Â
You promised youâd be matureâ that youâd be vulnerable and lay yourself bare, shredding your feelings off of you and fleshing them out, distancing yourself from the jejune cowardice youâd had. Somebody had to do it first, and if he didnât want to, youâd be the one to do so. This was the most rational thing to doâ if he didnât want to listen to you either way, if heâd remain someone who hadnât apologised to you, you wouldnât need that type of person in your life any longer.Â
And Tsumiki. You wonder if sheâs okay, how sheâs doing: is she sleeping well? Eating well? Enjoying her life? Smiling? Doing well in the student council?Â
That fight ruined everything, and it was so horribly immature.Â
If only you hadnât said anything. If only youâd been softer, gentler like Tsumiki. But no, you shouldnât have to recompense for Megumiâs lack of understanding. That was maturity. Right?Â
Still, he shouldnât have had to do the same for you. Both of you were so stupid.Â
You clench your fists on your bed, your arm obscuring your vision as if blindfolding yourself and escaping from everything, whether it be from embarrassment or your adolescence-addled proclivity for overthinking interactions from a year ago orâ whatever the hell it is, you donât like it at all, and itâs complicated and jumbled and makes you want to cry, shout, curl into yourself and just go to sleep at the same time.Â
Itâs 12 am and you feel really, really stupid. You feel like scolding yourself for everything.Â
Now youâve made up your mind another time. Every time you think of him youâre back to square one, you think, and then youâll resort back to the same conclusion: you wonât give him the satisfaction despite knowing how utterly stupid it is the way youâre going around things.Â
When you go to Tokyo youâre not going to see Fushiguro Megumi. Even if that includes his sister.Â
You just have to get over it.Â
23-12-2017
Itâs strange being in Tokyo without it having to do with Tsumiki and Megumi.Â
âDo you think sheâll be okay?â you ask your father as youâre waiting for the train. The December air is cold, nipping at your nose and cheeks. You sniffle, your skin feeling a little numb. The last Christmas you had in Tokyo was half a lifetime ago and it still shocks you. That eight year old girl never really left your body, her remnants hidden in you like a ghost in a mansion. â...what if she gets sick or something? What if she needs help but she canât make any emergency calls to anyone because her phoneâs too far from her?âÂ
âYour mother will be just fine,â he says, and you feel so small in comparison to your father again because you canât really tell what heâs feeling, canât really tell what the expression on his face is supposed to meanâ worlds away from you, too grown for you to fathom the multitudes of his feelings and life experiences while he can looks down and see you, witness how green you are and understand everything as if heâd lived that life itself, because he did, once. âAnd it was my decision to ask you. So whatever happens, itâs my fault and not yours. Donât be worried.âÂ
Heâs stressed now and it only makes you worry even more now. When heâs stressed he grows irritable, and no one is spared.Â
âOkay.âÂ
24-12-2017Â
Dr Ieiri Shoko is an interesting person. You recognise her from beforeâ the pretty woman with the mole near her eye, present at Tsumikiâs birthday party all those years ago, with a penchant for smoking cigarettes and brown hair that had been short at that time. Her dark eye circles vaguely remind you of crescent moons in the midnight sky or crevices in the ground.Â
The room where she works; her clinic, maybe, or where sheâs confined to most of the timeâ is part of Jujutsu High. Their school compound itself had almost shocked you, the torii gates leading to it almost unending and all the buildingsâ exteriors like an old city drowning with tin a teeming forest mixed with a subtle modernity.Â
This room, you think, is one of the most miserable youâve been inâ the air stale with the pungence of rotting flesh, the lights garish and hostile, devoid of all colour except for blue: the sterile blue of the nitrile gloves, the dark blue of the shirt she wears under her lab coat and the pale shade of blue of her box of masks on her desk.Â
âI never expected that Jujutsu High would be so big,â you remark as the three of you are getting ready for the battle and preparing other medical supplies, âItâs like a city.âÂ
By now, the sun would have already started to set, the force of time having opened the gateway to night. This room would have been one away from time, then; an entity separate from timeâs laws in its unchangingness.Â
âThe school is our headquarters, after all,â she says, puffing out the smoke from her cigarette. It diffuses into the air and you try to hold in your breath before nearly choking, âYou think theyâll start coming in anytime soon?âÂ
âIeiri! I told you not to smoke in front of my daughter,â your father barges in, dragging someone behind him. The boy has a black uniform much like your fatherâs, except his is littered with slashes, his face bruised and bloody.Â
You step forward. Dr Ieiri stops you. âItâs fine,â she whispers, âLet me.âÂ
âSorry, old man,â she says, âJust felt nostalgic all of a sudden.âÂ
âWhether you smoke or not, I donât care. But thatâs my daughter!âÂ
âNo, itâs fineââ you start, âI really donât mindââÂ
âJust help the student get on the examination table,â she states.Â
Your father hauls him up on the table. Heâs whimpering, holding some of his bruises, and wincing each time he touches it again by accident.Â
The doctor eases her way to him. âWatch,â she orders, and you see the cursed energy in her hand manifest before holding it over him, and seeing how he heals instantly.Â
âWoah.âÂ
âSee?â she starts, âThatâs reverse cursed technique.âÂ
âIâ is it painless?ââitâs seamless, his healing process, and thereâs not an ounce of pain on Dr Ieiriâs faceâ âHowââ you scramble to turn back and look up at her, âHow do I learn it?âÂ
She turns to your father. âYou didnât teach her about it?âÂ
âItâs not like I can do it,â he argues, a little wound up and a little angry, probably because of the stress, âThe most I could tell her was what it was. At the rate sheâs going with her cursed technique progress, I thought that if she got into something she could struggle with, like reverse cursed technique, sheâd have trouble with it and would end up spending even more time on all of this. The wife doesnât want her learning too much about all of this anyway.âÂ
âAh, yeah, that sounds like her,â Shoko chuckles, âSoâ sheâs learning everything quickly, huh?âÂ
âNoâ heâs just exaggerating.âÂ
âShe likes to downplay her abilities.âÂ
âNo I donât,â you say.Â
Your father raises his voice a little, âI thought we talked about this, [Name]ââ
Dr Ieiri stops the two of you. âHey, cut it out. I was about to teach her more about reverse cursed techniqueâ you basically said sheâs got potential, right?â Then she turns to the previously injured sorcerer. âSorry about those two.âÂ
âAhâ so sorry about my daughter.âÂ
â...SorryâŚâ you bow.Â
âYou know what? You two bring her outside, Iâll have to check something here for a while. In private,â Dr Ieiri orders.Â
When the sorcerer reassures you that sheâll be alright and promises to cause less trouble in the future, the two of you wave her off.Â
âWhyâd you have to be so self-deprecating?â your father turns to you.Â
âIâm not being self-deprecating,â you argue, âItâs the truth. And itâs not like you are the same, so you donât really have any right to judge.âÂ
âOkay, nowâ since when did you get so rebellious?â your father asks, frowning, âYou used to be so sweet and obedient. Now itâs like you hate your parents.âÂ
âWhâ rebellious? No, Iâ god, itâs like the two of you say you hate me every time I disagree with something you say. Why canât you just listen to me for a secondââÂ
His voice gets that bit lower and that bit louder, and now youâre a mouse before a cat, that chill running down your spine, even though youâll try your best to shout back, âWe just say these things because we know better. We have more life experience than you do. You know, if other people unlike Ieiri were to see us fighting like that they could take advantage of it.âÂ
âYouâre starting to sound like her,â you retort.Â
âDonât talk about your mother like that.âÂ
âWhy not? Thatâs how you talk about her. Makes no difference. And I can form my own opinions. Iâm fifteenââÂ
âYour mother and I are husband and wife. And youâre a child. Fifteenâs barely close to fifty,â he chides, âBut I guess if you think you know everything, then thatâs fine. You think youâre so grown-up now, so I guess you can form your own opinions like that.âÂ
âGod, you sound immatureââÂ
âAnd you sound like and ungrateful child! You think this stuff doesnât exist, that the worldâs kind and weâre just miserable idiots making these things up to turn our kid into a miserable adult? These things happen. Nobody told these things to your mother and I, so if we tell you this you should appreciate it, right? But I donât know what the problem is with you. Youâre like her but worse. You say youâll do these things but you donât do them. You say youâll be mature but you donât end up that way. If we say you shouldnât do something because it gets you hurt, whether in the heart or in the brain, you do it anyway like a fool. It all gets screwed up somewhere, you know, like your neural pathways donât connect or something. In the end you donât appreciate us at all, you think weâre out to get you, you think that you know everything under the sun and when we tell you things youâll need when weâre off dying in a home for the elderly somewhere, you donât listen to a single word from usââÂ
âWell thatâs because you donât listen to me!â you sniffle. The tears will pour out soon and your lips are trembling because heâs actually right to a degree as much as youâd like to deny it.Â
You hate this. You hate this so much. You hate your fatherâs words, how much they sound like your motherâs yet how much he uses them against her, you hate the heat on your face about to be caked with blotchy tears, you hate how much everything is out of your control and how hectic everythingâs been. You just want to lock yourself in your room, curl into yourself on the mattress, and blindfold yourself with your arm or stare blankly at the garish ceiling light.Â
âStop crying, would you? Whyâd you have to be so emotional? You really are like her, because you cry from everything. Makes no goddamn sense, honestlyâŚâÂ
Well, youâre just like him, too.Â
You just walk back.Â
âWoah. Something happen?â Dr Ieiri questions, discarding a cigarette right after she sees you.Â
Her eyes are puffy and a little swollen, you notice. But youâre not sure if they may be from tears like yours, or from a constant deprivation of sleep. Probably a combination of the two. Maybe.Â
âNothing happened, Ieiri,â he says, âItâs just that my daughter thinks sheâs the smartest person in the world despite not using her brain at all. Itâs fucking shocking how she thinks she knows better than her own parents do.âÂ
You should interrupt him, you want to, to just shut him up. You donât and youâre seething with anger while each time you feel your nails digging into your palm youâre closer to crying than you have in the past eleven or twelve months.Â
âLeave the family drama out of this,â she sighs, âThereâll probably be more people coming here. Get ready. You go out and get them first, you old man.âÂ
You donât give your father a goodbye. You donât want to give him the give in and lose the fight, even if any time he leaves you here may be the last time you see each other.Â
He leaves the room, not saying a word to you either.Â
Immature motherfucker. Literally.Â
âGreat. Now that thatâs over with, I can finally talk to you,â she continues, rather casually. You know she probably has a clue that other people would skirt around the situation, that she should have more decorum towards such an issue or incident or something. Yet at the same time you can also confirm sheâs the type who doesnât really care. âShouldâve said this before he came back with that first girl. Now weâve got to be extra fast.âÂ
âHuh?â
âI may need you as an apprentice, basically.âÂ
âHuh.âÂ
She reasons with you, âIâm not going to live forever, and Iâm probably going to need another person who can heal people. You know who did what my job is now before I even came out of the womb?âÂ
âNo?âÂ
âIt was your dadâ bet he never told you about that, huh? Bet youâve never heard it from your mother, either. Said he was traumatised and all that. But itâs just a part of his past he doesnât like talking about often.âÂ
âOh⌠things mustâve been really bad, then⌠must be an explanation for why heâs like that as a person, huhâŚâÂ
She chuckles, âYeah, Iâm pretty sure they were. Still, Iâve heard that you like practising with your cursed technique although it hurts sometimes, but seeing as youâve been learning things quickly from the way you only discovered your capabilities two years agoâŚâ she continues, âWell, I mean, you seem like a good kid, too. A real hardworking, caring kid. Just a good, kind kid who I can leave this to. But not the type whoâd be destroyed by the lack of those things in society. Our world needs people like that, I think. And right now more than ever. So, I thought you could give reversed cursed technique a shot, but I knew that if either your father or mother were here theyâd shoot the idea down immediately. Youâre their baby girl no matter what they say or no matter how they raised you could have screwed you up a little. They still love you even if theyâre not perfect.âÂ
And you end up crying. Full-on bawling for reasons youâd be too childishly embarrassed to disclose.Â
âWoahâ there, there. Youâll be just fine, okay? But hey, give it a shot. I really think you could do well. But then youâd probably need the medical licence and all if you followed my pathâ I mean, back then, I guess in your dadâs time they were fine with him doing these things technically illegally, because there were less patients back then and less sorcerers got killed on the daily since the cures were weakerâŚâÂ
âNo, noââ you sniffle, rubbing your eyes, âI mean, yes? I wantâ I want to be a doctor, actually. Iâve wanted to do something like that in the jujutsu world for a while. I just hadnât gotten the chance to meet you.âÂ
âGreat,â she twirls a strand of her hair, âLetâs start.âÂ
You canât do it.Â
You keep to your promisesâ you refrain from using cell manipulation, you donât go anywhere near the fightâ you just stand by and wait for when either of them will ask for something before you run and get it like some gopher. Thereâs a slight acridity to this: though it hadnât been your full intent, you suppose that it would have been good to prove your mother wrong in some way, that you could do everything without hurting yourself (even though you definitely would, but if you could handle it and take it all, what would be going wrong, right?). But you refrain from doing it even if thereâs nothing stopping you from disobeying her, because beyond still being frustrated with your father who keeps track of everything related to your progress with itâ or just trying to prove something for him, something that says youâre not that much of a child anymore, that youâre a person stuck in a body yet to finish growing (to a certain degree, thereâs veritable reason behind his words, but youâre just too childish and prideful to admit it and âforgiveâ him that easily)â thereâs a part of you that still wants to listen to your mother every once in a while. Because maybe if you do, then everything will be alright. Itâs easier to reduce yourself to a child again sometimes, you suppose. And sometimes you want things easier.Â
Still, thereâs a part of you that canât help but feel useless right now. Cell manipulation is useful and versatile; it can kill just as much as it can heal, and it can heal just as much as the most injury-prone people can get injured. To help other people, you want to be able to help even at your own expense: to be used properly and utilised efficiently. So, if people can get injured, youâll be doing as much as you can by using it to its full potential.Â
As much as you want to help, though, a part of you thinks that even if they were to allow you to use cell manipulation, you would deny their offer anyway.Â
You arenât able to help with anything, and youâre not learning anything that you didnât know before about cell manipulation. Even if this was supposed to be your chance to prove something and make some breakthrough. Something like that.Â
âWant me to help with anything else?âÂ
âNothing. Just watch.âÂ
Youâd been watching by the sidelines for five hours.Â
âIf youâre bored, you could always leave,â your father states, cold and acerbic.Â
âNoâ oh my god, stop. Stop assuming everything. Why do you have to be so emotional?âÂ
Dr Ieiri tilts her head up from the examining table and the arm of a student writhing in pain. âIf the two of you fight again, Iâm kicking both of you out. But [Name], I think you should watch. I mean, if you ever get tired or bored, though, you can walk through the campus yourself for a while. I think it should be fine. And you can meet some of the first-years right now, too. Youâd probably like them a lot.âÂ
âAre you sure, doctor?âÂ
âYeah, yeahâ I donât mind.âÂ
âOh, so youâll listen to a stranger instead of your fatherââ
âOne more time,â Dr Ieiri repeats.Â
ââAnd itâs over for today.âÂ
You leave the room, your blood boiling. It takes what modicum of anger control you have left to not slam the door in your fatherâs face.Â
The hallways in the school seem normal, and the classrooms do, too, aside from the heady smell of wood and old books (scrolls?) rich and heady in the air due to everything from the floors to the walls having been made traditional style. Itâs pleasant. The classrooms seem normal as well despite only having about three desks and chairs neatly stacked up together, with blackboards and alabaster chalk right beside them per room. There probably wouldnât be much light: there arenât any attached to the ceiling, so the only ways that sunlight could enter may be through the windows, which now have the orange sunset spilling through them like river water. It reminds you of something quietly forlorn, something that would be lonely and dark in the night, something thatâs been abandoned. Still, there is life hereâ you can tell that from the occasional drawings on some of the boards, with the only dust on them being that of chalk and nothing else, and you suppose thatâs the effect of having such little students in a high school so vastly large and indispensable to Jujutsu society.Â
It seems as if Jujutsu High is a place of ghosts. But rather happy, comfortable ones, maybe. Content ones who went out satisfied and stayed because they decided the world during their lifetimes that the world was something they rather liked.Â
As youâre exploring and about to head to one of the other classrooms, you meet someoneâ a bespectacled girl, with dark green hair tied up in a ponytail and bangs swept to the side of her forehead, right next to her honey-hued eyes and precisely sharp, piercing eyelashes. You think that sheâs awfully pretty.Â
âHuh? Whoâre you?â she goes, her voice loud and deep and bold, âYou a new transfer student or something?âÂ
âNoâ uh, my fatherâs a sorcerer and he took me here, so now Iâm walking around. Heâs assisting the doctor in her room right now and they told me to go outside and see everything.âÂ
âOh. Then are you gonna be a student here?âÂ
âProbably not? I donât think Iâm going anywhere. But I may visit? I donât really know. Iâm actually still in junior high, anyway.â You utter your name in a brief second, telling her she can just use your first name.Â
âIâm Maki.âÂ
âNice to meet you, Maki,â you smile. She smiles back like an older sister.Â
âSo, whyâd he even bring you along if youâre not gonna go here?âÂ
âOh. Well, uh, Iâve got a cursed technique that my father has too and he brought me here to kind of, umâ learn about more stuff since I like using my cursed technique. But I donât think Iâll become a sorcerer. Maybe a doctor, or somethingâŚâÂ
âSo thatâs why you were with that sleep-deprived woman,â she says, heading to lean against the wallsâ windows before you do the same.Â
You donât know what to do next, but she seems pretty nice and thereâs comfort in the fact that sheâs a total stranger you probably wonât ever see again all that much. âMaki, can I ask you for some advice?âÂ
She quirks a brow. âHm? Sure.âÂ
ââŚIâve had a lot of things on my mind recently. And Iâm at the point of my life where, I guessâ my emotions are going wild and Iâm arguing with my parents and all. But the most important thing right now, I think, is that I canât get over somebody I knew. He was my old friend, but⌠not anymore.
âI used to be really close to him and his sister when we were kids before I moved away from Tokyo, but now we donât ever talk since they never pick up the phone and Iâve given up on trying. Ahâ saying it loud really makes me miss them. But we used to be close, and about a year ago when I went back to where they lived, he and I got into a⌠heated argument. Now we donât talk anymore, and Iâm not sure if heâs like that because of what I did, but his sister doesnât either. And now, I donât know what to do, becauseâ I didnât really have any friends before I met them, and even now I only have one other friend in my life besides them. So Iâm a little lost,â you sniffle, though it feels like a weight has been lifted off of you and you can rest your stiff shoulders, âThey were really important to me and I donât know how to talk to them again, just to like, apologise and set things right, maybeââÂ
ââWhatâs stopping you from just talking to them? You said that they werenât replying, but you could always just send, like, a voicemail or a letter or an email. It honestly just seems like youâre too scared of just apologising. Just say it straight, out loud. Thereâs no need to go around it. At least youâll be saying it, and you can put all that stuff to rest in your head. Then if they donât ever say anything back, fuck them!â she grins crookedly, her teeth like the serrated zigzags on a special knife, wide and bright like the summer sun. Pure, well-meant advice.Â
A part of what she says is what youâve been thinking, really, but sheâs right when she says it. Perhaps you just needed to hear it from a complete stranger.Â
âI think youâre right, Maki,â you smile, âIâll do it when Iâm ready.âÂ
âCome on, thereâs no time for when youâll be ready for these sorts of things. You just have to⌠sort of push yourself. If you donât, how long are you planning to wait? Youâll never be âreadyâ enough.â
âYeah, youâre right. Thanks, Maki.âÂ
âYouâre welcome,â she says, the slightly cocky tone of her voice a perfect match with her smile. âAnyway, Iâve got to look for someone. Iâll see you around.âÂ
âOhâ well, thank you, Maki. Iâll see you around too.âÂ
She eases past you, an air of confidence in her, her back straight and chest protruding. âAnd [Name]? One more thing.Â
âGood luck.âÂ
âThanks.âÂ
25-12-2017
âBefore you leave, hereâs my phone number,â Dr Ieiri says. She snatches a cigarette out of her mouth and a pen from her pocket, and soon she palms the used cigarette, placing it on your hand. Itâs burned on one end and has the stain of her lipstick on the other.Â
When you leave itâs the first time youâve stepped on that train without turning back and glancing at the platform. Thereâs nothing left to see, anyway. You hold your wrist as if holding the hair tie close to your heart, clinging to something with nothing left.Â
26-12-2017Â
The day the two of you come back, thereâs an emptiness in the way your mother speaks, her eyes swollen and her skin dull.Â
âHow was the trip?â she asks as sheâs cooking dinner. She doesnât turn to face you.Â
âIt was good.âÂ
âIâm glad to know.âÂ
You walk over to her. âAre you upset?âÂ
No reply.Â
âMummy, I didnât do anything. I just watched them work. Nothing bad happened to me, nothing bad will ever happen to me, I promise, Iâ Mummy?âÂ
Her knife slices through the vegetables like a machine in a factory. She transfers them into a bowl and mixes them in with beaten eggs.Â
âI wonât become a Jujutsu sorcerer, I promise.âÂ
âI donât want you doing anything related to that at all,â she mutters.Â
â...you know I canât do that. Iâve told you that I canât.âÂ
âThen Iâll only stop this when you promise me to not to use it or get into that world and get yourself hurt again.âÂ
You reel back. âMummy, if youâre going to be like that, then Iâm not going to listen to you. Iâm still going to do it and you canât stop me.âÂ
âSo that means youâll be the one keeping me like this forever.âÂ
â...I guess it does.âÂ
âIs this how youâre repaying me for everything? For years I clothed you and fed you andâ I had friends before I had you but I barely see them now, because my life and time has become something I only control based on the lives of you and your father. You think I wanted that?â she turns to you, âYou think I wanted a life where I was either cooking or cleaning or caring for a daughter who brought sickness and harm onto herself and caused trouble for everyone?âÂ
Itâs not like you even care what happens to you. Itâs not like they have to care about whatever happens to you. If you get sick or get injured or die, then so what? You donât matter nearly enough compared to the people you could help if you didnât. âYou canât say that right now. Iâve been trying to repay you for what youâve done, butâ it doesnât mean that I have to go back on my own commitments. Iâm my own personââÂ
âIâm not saying you arenât. But youâre also my daughter. You should be listening to me, still, since youâre onlyâ whatâ fifteen?âÂ
âDaddy said the same thingâ why canât the two of you just listen to me? It wasnât like this in the past. Even when I was little you listened to me.âÂ
âWeâre not the ones whoâve changed, [Name]. It was all you.âÂ
âYouâre infuriating. I canât stand you. The both of you.âÂ
âOf course, youâd be the one saying that.âÂ
28-2-2018
Your mother gets admitted to the hospital at the end of February.Â
âItâs cancer,â your father says.Â
Now you can no longer recall a time when you laughed and smiled alongside your parents. It must have just been that long of a time since then, you suppose.Â
Youâre crying as you see her sleeping figureâ you see what you used to be terrified of, your mother, your dearest mother, slipping away from you with weak limbs and eyes in that hospital bed. The last time she was in one it had been the day you were born and that only makes you sob even more, until your eyes feel as if theyâre bleeding, and all you can feel tugging at your chest is regret, but not quite that either. Regret that you never made the effort to spend time with her, to get her to understand youâ you were the child, but since your parents had not been able to quell whatever theyâd faced in the past, you were supposed to be the one reaching out to them and helping them heal from that since the start of it all. It was supposed to be your responsibilityâ one that you kept denying, one that you failed to do, one that you hadnât been useful for even though that had been all you wanted to be in life.Â
Your father and you barely exchange words after that.Â
17-6-2018Â
You ended up choosing to go to the same school as Yuuji even though thereâd been âbetterâ schools willing to take you in. He told you the two of you could stick together like before despite being in different schools, yet you insisted on staying by his side.Â
Partly for a different reason, though. The first time youâd stepped foot in the school there was an aura of cursed energy thick in the air, a nauseating sensation that almost suffocated you like fabric over your mouth and nose. You decided youâd stay there and prevent anything wrong from happening. This year would be a year of clear-cut decisions and surety, youâd told yourself. You would have to be decisive this time instead of overthinking things in your bed late at night anymore.Â
âStaying with the literature club today?â he asks, âYou know, youâre always welcome to the occult club next time.âÂ
âYeah, but I like the literature club, anyway. Enjoy yourself there, okay?â you swat him playfully on the back, âBye.âÂ
âBye!âÂ
The literature club provides a respite, you suppose, from the stress in your lifeâ not like youâre dealing with that stressful of a life, but everything else seems muddled up when youâre at home or with Yuuji, as much as you enjoy your time with him. There, itâs quiet and civil and professional. You barely know the names of anyone there, and even though literature includes discussing different viewpoints andâ in theoryâ getting to know each other, youâre grateful for the group leaderâs incompetency in leadership, and that it just becomes one long reading session for everyone after heâs given up on starting conversations and productive discussions with his fellow club members.Â
â...it seems like youâre reading another classic today. Do you like classics?â he asks you.Â
âUh⌠yes?â you whisper back, âAnd books on biology and dogs, I guess.â Sometimes it hurts to say the latter when youâre reminded of what it means.Â
âSo⌠what other classics do you like to read, [Name]?âÂ
Whyâs he using your first name? You barely know him.Â
âUhmâŚâ You turn back to whatâs behind you. Despite how far it is, you can notice itâ that pink hair, that yellow hoodie. It seems as if one of the PE teachers is there, and a crowd has formed around them. âOh⌠wait! Look! Thereâs something going down there! Iâm so sorry, Iâve got to go down and see it, it seems like theyâre doing, umââ You turn back again, your feet ready to speed away and run offâ ââTheyâre doing the shot put! Iâm sorry, Iâve to see! I think my friendâs there.âÂ
By the time youâre down, youâre panting and looking onwards, wedging yourself into the jostling crowd of people.Â
The ball probably beat the world record. Youâre not sure, though.Â
You cheer along with everyone else. Yuuji is wonderful. So wonderful, and pure, and kind and strong and goodâÂ
Itâs like that ache is pricking at your chest again.Â
Youâll live, though. Eventually. Eventually all of this will have been over with.Â
He walks over to Sasaki and Iguchi, relaxed and confident in his posture as always. âHey, [Name]!â he shouts, waving at you.Â
You head over to the three.Â
âLeft early today?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
There it is, that aura againâ but it feels a bit stronger now.Â
Youâll check later.Â
âYouâd do well on a sports team, Itadori,â Sasaki comments, her hand on her waist, âDonât force yourself to stay in our occult club.âÂ
âHuh? Really? But even though you love scary stuff, without me you could never go to haunted places!âÂ
âBut we like being scared,â she pouts.Â
âSchool rules say that I have to be in some club,â he says, slightly cocking his head to the side, âAnd I could never keep this up.â With his thumb he points at the awed students behind him taking pictures of his shot with stars in their eyes.Â
For a moment, you turn behind, and there he is.Â
Fushiguro Megumi.Â
The person who you supposed was the first you ever loved. The person who became one of your closest friends. The person who argued with and abandoned you.Â
He stops in his tracks.Â
âSorry, guys, Iâve got to excuse myself for a bit,â you tell them, speeding over your words a little.Â
âOh, noâ donât worry about it!â Sasaki says.Â
You dash as fast as you canâ which would probably have got you a measly 10th place in a race with twelve year old kids, but stillâ grabbing his wrist like a pickpocket swiping someoneâs credit card or wallet, before pulling him over to the side of the crowd where there are less people.
Youâre seething, almost, or at least youâd like to be.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â you ask.Â
âYouâre asking me that? What are you doing here? Canât you feel the cursed energy here?âÂ
âYeahâ no shit, Sherlock! Thatâs why I enrolled myself into this school! But youâ called you so many times, you never picked up, and now youâre showing up at my school like this, frowning like some kind of anime-bad-boy-with-daddy-issues cosplayer in casual clothingâ do you know how frustrating it is to try to keep whatever ârelationshipâ we all have left?âÂ
He sighs.Â
âOh, youâre sighing? God, youâre insufferableâ you know, there are so many things I have to say to you right now and I will make you fucking listen, MegumiââÂ
âOkay, Iâm sorry. Just listen. Too many things happened and since youâre here I think I may need your help.âÂ
You let out a large, nearly over exaggerated exhale. âI canât believe Iâm doing this.âÂ
Itadori runs past you. âBye, [Name]! Iâm gonna go see grandpa!âÂ
âBye! Stay safe!â you tell him.Â
And now you feel itâ the surge of cursed energy from just Yuuji.Â
âHis backpack! Itâs in his backpack!â you whisper, âHeâs in the occult club, the cursed object is probably in his backpack!âÂ
He turns back.Â
â...youâre still holding my wrist, by the way.âÂ
âTtâ oh, shut up, itâs not like you canât handle it,â you say, pausing, then taking it back and retracting your hand. âSorry. Iâll take it off if it makes you uncomfortable, ah⌠Iâm just⌠very frustrated and confused. Everythingâs been muddled up recently, just because a lot has happened in the past year, uhm⌠sorry. I should probably stop exploding on everyone like this.âÂ
âItâs fine. âŚeverythingâs fine,â he says, pulling your hand back hesitantly. His eyes stay away from you evasively. Acting innocent, as if he isnât doing anything at all.Â
â[Name], do you want him to stay alive?âÂ
âIâ yeah, of course? And heâs my best friend, so⌠of course.âÂ
âThen at least we know what we have to do now.âÂ
âI guess we do.âÂ
âWhatever it is, weâll talk about it later,â he promises, âI⌠have a lot to say to you too.âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
You lead him, pulling him forward by the wrist to the hospital as the sun begins to set.Â
The year of 2010. Two children still in smaller worlds, watching shows and reading books and eating cake. Sticky summer days with cold water splashed at each other, a spring spent with his sister and braiding each othersâ hair, an autumn with dog books and stepping on rustling, crunching leaves, a winter with fried chicken and bunched up coats and warming each othersâ fingers.Â
Nostalgia.Â
You want him to take you back to those days.Â
Years ago, in a city you no longer live in, heâd done the same. Heâd held you by the wrist, pulled you gently as the two of you walked to his home.Â
taglist:
@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored
(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)
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Hi! I just started to read your fic âtake me back (take me with you)â and I just wanted to know if I can be added to the taglist? đ¤
of course, thank you so much đ!
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Hihi!! Could I please be on the tag list for the fanfic your writing? The megumi one! (take me back (take me with you)) !! <3
sure! thank you so much for reading â°(*´︜`*)âŻâĄ
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 4: placeholder
ao3 link for additional authorâs notes | playlist | prev | next | m.list
chapter synopsis:
'Itâs like doing every little thing that you used to do with Tsumiki, and Megumi, sometimes, tooâ time spent after or during school, time spent laughing and giggling over the phone, time spent over snacks that keep you so full you donât even want to eat your next mealâ the same, but different.'
---
Yeah, no matter what happens, no matter what changesâ you'll live, probably.
word count: ~5k; tws: brief mentions of menstruation maybe?
12-2-2017
Out of everything you wouldnât have expected this.Â
It could have been her telling you about how Valentineâs Day is coming up, complaining about how that one teacherâs been giving her class quizzes every lesson, or gossipping about frivolous things like the drama happening among the girls in her grade.Â
But you donât expect the phone call to go like this.Â
âHello?â you ask into the phone, âTsumiki?âÂ
âHello,â the voice over the phone says. This one is older, more masculine, and you know whose it is.Â
Itâs Gojo Satoruâs.Â
âAh, Mr⌠Mr Gojo? Is Tsumiki home?âÂ
Thereâs a long pause after that, the silence like paint filling in the gaps of a puzzle when the pieces are lost.Â
ââŚnot now,â he says, his tone low and heavy, âSorry, kid. You shouldâŚ. you can call on another day, okay?âÂ
âI⌠okay. Thank you. Could you help me tell her that her friend [Name] wants to call her? She hasnât been talking to me anywhere since, um⌠the start of the year, I think?âÂ
âYeah,â he goes, voice aching to the point it makes your heart twinge, âIâll let her know. Thanks.âÂ
Then he hangs up. It sounded as if he was holding the phone with all the weight in the world, and had his voice drenched in all the pain in it.Â
And you donât know why.Â
-16-2-2017-
It happens once more, and youâre convinced that every time you see them after a while Tsumiki and Megumi slip away completely from your grasp. Tsumiki hasnât called in monthsâ again, hasnât responded to nor read any of your text messages and doesnât even wish you a good morning when you start the week anymore. She always used to do that. Youâre sure they would have a reasonâ youâre definitely sureâ but why would they have to go missing on you right after you left?Â
And you didnât even want to speak to Megumi at first. Though the two of you had shared your contacts during your trip in Tokyo and agreed to catch up every so often, you struggled to face him. Perhaps it was childish prideâ your wish to have been right and to have him apologise to you, apologise to his sister, too; your wish for him to call you up admitting he was wrong.Â
You suppose you wouldnât mind if he never did, thoughâ you just didnât want to apologise to him. You didnât want to lose or give in, not when your life has revolved so much around these two, not when this is the only time you can control things. Your relationship with them is a journey on a swaying boat, and each time they move it you feel youâre about to fall into the water and drown from them turning it over. This is the only way you can do it to them, do it to him in particular, because youâd let only Tsumiki prove you wrong. Youâd let both of them do anything to youâ at this point you have because no matter how much they promise to call you back, to listen to your voicemails, to meet you again, youâre the one arranging plans to move to Tokyo; youâre the one calling them for what feels like over and over and sitting with your phone pressed to your ear for an eternity only to hear nothing. You moved all over the country, so why did it feel like you were the only one stuck in place as they moved forward from you?Â
At this point itâs even hindering you from making any new friends. You choose so much to linger on these two, on two people you met at the age of eight and only knew for a year before you decided to devote yourself to them, that you miss the chance to speak to anyone else your age who could be a lifelong companion no matter where you moved.Â
Yet at the same time you canât handle not saying sorryâ if thereâs one thing thatâs festered in you for years itâs the guilt thatâs accumulated from being who you are. Guilt from being a burden, guilt for not having been a better daughter or an easier child to raise, guilt for not apologising after scolding someone over something that never really mattered. What you fought over: in the end, it didnât matter, right?Â
Still, youâd rather be immature than lose control the first time youâve had it; youâd rather be immature than apologise for something you refuse to say is your fault even if your greater conscience tells you to apologise either way.Â
Your thoughts are scribbles on paper, and you canât decide, really; you canât make a stand on what you really want: an apology, to apologise, to be proven right, to be able to talk again, to completely refrain from talking to him at all for the rest of your lifeâÂ
This really shouldnât be that big of a deal. So maybe itâs because Valentineâs Day has just passed and youâre lonely and heâs the only one youâve ever had feelings for, or because this is the compromise you can come up with the part of yourself that wants control and the part of yourself that thinks the world is better off with you being less of a weight on someoneâs back.Â
Anyway, you phone Megumi up.Â
Slowly, you key his number inâ you swore not to forget it when he gave it to you last year, when for a few days you had rebuilt your friendship with him through awkward conversations and beating around the bush, only for it to crumble and come crashing down.Â
You press the phone to your ear. Its screen feels cold as the side of it grazes the skin on your chin. It vibrates and rings, its hum like a beeâs buzz, as you wait for the reply.Â
âThis is Fushiguro speaking. If youâre hearing this, I canât be on the phone right now, so just leave a voicemail messageââ
Youâve never felt more hurt after feeling his voice reach your ears.Â
-20-2-2017-
You try again. The beep seems to mock you as you put your phone down and collapse against the mattress.Â
All of it, the frustration, the melancholic nights spent dialling numbers over and over again, the emptiness that greets you after like an old friend who knows you all too wellâÂ
â it has all happened before. Itâs happening again and all you can do is watch as it does, forbidding yourself from interfering with what youâve claimed is now a relapse of the distancing that you had no control over two years ago. Â
10-3-2017
âWe may be moving back to Sendai for a while, since weâve got to settle some things with our old house there,â your father statesâ you know that youâre guaranteed to be spending your last year of junior high there, though, since itâs less than a month until the next school yearâ âAre you okay with that?âÂ
âYeah, sure.â You donât have the number of any of your classmates at school, and you donât really care to ask anymore. âWant me to help with anything?âÂ
4-5-2017
Anticipation for the summer vacation breaks into your school calendar. The summer of 2017 is the first one youâve had while having a friend close to you besides Megumi and Tsumiki, with Yuuji and you heading off for arcade games every Tuesday, laughing about goodness knows what in between classes and sending each other videos of old vines on Youtube before Vine died at the start of the year. Itâs like doing every little thing that you used to do with Tsumiki, and Megumi, sometimes, tooâ time spent after or during school, time spent laughing and giggling over the phone, time spent over snacks that keep you so full you donât even want to eat your next mealâ the same, but different.Â
With a skip in your step, you head to class. Yuujiâs in there, and heyâ itâs a Thursday, so today youâre especially excited.Â
Thatâs whatâs been happening to you recently: excitement. Colour. Before meeting him it felt as if things were bleak, dull, grey like piles of dust. Yet you suppose becoming his friend has brought that colour back to you, because now you look forward to days instead of dreading them, all for the sake of him. How romantic.Â
âSo? Which girl in our class do you like, Itadori?â Â
âI donât like any of them.âÂ
âYeah, but if you had to pick one!âÂ
The other boys donât even mention you. It does make sense. At this point you may just seem to be someone desperate for his attention: of all the people in your class, you talk only to him, mostly because youâd struggle talking to any other girls, even more so any other boys. They were all intimidating at times: the baseball pitcher who dragged Itadori near his table every now and then, the pretty girls always willing to lend you bobby pins and hair ties with the best makeup youâve seen and rolled-up skirts you feel you could never replicate and look good in, the smart student council leaders sitting at the front of the classroom completing their homework during lunch periods. Even if what would meet you while talking to them was not ridicule, it would be, at the very least, an uncomfortable silence frozen in the air from your awkwardness.Â
And hearing all this kills you because you know it would never be you. You wonder why it doesâ liking him was fun. It was supposed to be something you dallied in for your own sake, because doing what a girl your age should do instead of rotting in your room comforted you.Â
Yet your feelings were fickle, you supposed, because what was a source of joy slowly became a slightly painful twinge in your chest that you ignored each time you waited for him to tell you anything that could have indicated any feelings towards you. It was over from the start: you knew youâd never be the type of person heâd like; your handwriting wasnât pretty, you were an inelegant klutz, werenât gentle or caring or anything like that, just awkward. Tsumiki could, though, you think. Tsumiki had a natural grace, and a soothing charm that followed her like the scent of eucalyptus from her shampoo and conditioner. If it were Tsumiki, anyone could fall for herâ any boy or any girl, anyone. But itâs you, and you find yourself wallowing in self-pity as you hear him say it before noticing one of the girlsâ Ozawa Yuko, you thinkâ standing in front of you.Â
You donât know her well enough to say anything about her. Still, you know that sheâs a good few inches shorter than Yuuji is, and that whenever you walk past her you can vaguely pick up the scent of camellia shampoo.Â
Thatâs the type that peopleâ boys, at leastâ like. Graceful girls with elegance emanating from them, radiant and warm and friendly, even if they may be shy. You know how some other students have spoken about Ozawa, mocking her for things she couldnât control. And it was stupid as hell: you guys were teenagers, thereâd be no need for her to want to lose weight nowâ she still had so much time to grow and losing weight would stunt it, plus she would be adorable either way, too.Â
In the few months youâve known him you know Yuuji isnât like that. There are boys your age, with their boisterous laughs and common cruelty, and then thereâs Yuuji. Heâs never said a wrong word about anyone; he likes Jennifer Lawrence and tall girls with big asses but heâs like others in the sense that he loves people who are kind, sweetâ someone like Ozawa.Â
So when you see Ozawa waiting by the door, about to listen in with a light blush on her face, you know you donât even need to hear his answer.Â
[Name]
Yuuji
Sorry
Is it ok if we donât go today
I think Iâve to stay home and study
[Yuuji]
aw ok its all good
good luck studying man
[Name]
Thanks
You should have fun with the other boys
 And walk home with them
Sounds kinda gay ngl but eh
[Yuuji]
nah not the same when iâm not walking bakc with u
It hurts a bit as you walk home on your own, but you donât cry.Â
Now itâs time to be useful.Â
The next day, you talk to Itadori as usual. Nothing changes.Â
But then during lunchtime you head to where Ozawa sitsâ today sheâs in the classroom for a change, and sheâs all alone, and you shouldâve tried your best to prevent that so that others wouldnât be like you. If Itadori was the one to be sitting by your desk, youâll be like that for her whenever you see her.Â
âUm, Ozawa,â you mumble, tapping her shoulder.Â
She looks up. âAh⌠hm?âÂ
â...good luck!â you say, holding your thumb up as support, âIâll cheer you onâŚ! If you ever want to talk to him, Iâll help you, okay?âÂ
You run away before things get too awkward, but a connection established is a connection regardless, and youâve won for today.Â
1-12-2017
Your parents seem on-edge these days, your mother stressed and tired as she always is, your father worried about nothing you seem to know.Â
One night your mother places her chopsticks on the rim of her plate. The way she does it is in defeatâ silently, firmly so as to show that she wasnât quite done, that she could still hold them with all her strength in defiance. You only see her that way after your parents fight: that frown, the passively violent, deafeningly soundless aura from her actions. Because it was always your father who âwonâ. You didnât have a place to judgeâ your parents were a sterling team together; even if they fought things would be resolved and youâd have no say in the matter. It was only theirs and if they treated their arguments like fights they brought war weapons to, they would agree that you had neither the life experience to stop them nor the wisdom to solve their problems. You couldnât handle it either: their fighting and how it froze the air solid, the way it could erupt into them shouting at the tip of their throats so long as they were in their bedroom, because they knew you wouldnât hear. And so beyond words your father always won their arguments, each of them treating the other like an enemy on the battlefield.Â
Your mother turns to you.Â
âYour father has to go to Tokyo on the 24th,â she states, âThey need him back for something.âÂ
âJujutsu sorcerer stuff?âÂ
âI wonât take long,â your father smiles, as if he had not hurt your motherâs feelings to get her to give up, âAnd Iâm not going to be involved in the actual fighting like last time.âÂ
âThen why do you have to go?âÂ
âItâs something really important.âÂ
You frown.Â
He sighs. âThereâs going to be an attack on the 24th,â he says, âSomething planned by a man named Geto Suguru, a curse user with an extremely powerful cursed technique. Iâll just help with healing anyoneâs injuries,â he explains, ââŚyou know, I actually wanted to bring you there and see how things work in real time, since it seems youâve been interested in your cursed technique lately, but someone didnât want you to do it.âÂ
âDonât bring me into this again,â your mother spits at him.Â
âI already told you it wouldnât involve any of us getting hurt,â he retorts, âIf I bring her there I wonât even let her use her cursed technique, I just want her to see how Dr Ieiri and I do itââÂ
âAh!â you go, âDr Ieiri Shoko, right? Meguâ ah, I heard about her last time, from⌠someone.âÂ
âFrom Megumi?â your mother says, âDarling, donât think about those two anymore, itâs better if you donât get involved with that or that world at allââÂ
âAnyway,â your father interjects, âDo you want to try it, sweetheart? And if it all goes well with most of Tokyo still being intact and us having some extra time left, I can see if Dr Ieiri is able to teach you about reverse cursed techniqueââÂ
âI told you, sheâs not going anywhere near all of thisââÂ
âYou and I both want the same thing. Itâs not like I want her to be a jujutsu sorcerer, Iâm just looking out for my daughterâs interests in healing and recovering thingsââÂ
âWait!â you interrupt them, âIâ let me think about it, actually. Could you let me think about it, please? And I promise I wonât do anything near the battlefield, I swear. I meanâ I just thought, um, that since theyâre going to do some, likeâ- actual stuff, I guess?â that I wanted to see how it works. I still donât want to fight. I just want to see if I could help, you know, and it would be good if I could see how Daddy and Dr Ieiri do it so that I can learn from it and stuff and in the future I can make myself useful to other people and all so please donât fightââÂ
âYouâre rambling,â your mother states, her hands on her lap. Ultimate defeat. Absolute resignation from it all.Â
You almost want to cry at the sight of it.Â
âOf course,â your father replies, âGive it some good thought, okay, darling?âÂ
8-2-2018
Time moves like tennis balls against rackets. Yuuji will always be a great friend, youâve decided, even if he doesnât like you back. Besides, now, things are back to being fun: youâre going to crush on more people and have fun and see if one day someone confesses to you, and maybe by next Wednesdayâ the fourteenthâ your sweet sixteenth Valentineâs Day will be the first one not spent alone. Â
Sighing, you close your book again after a long day. Thereâs pencil lead stuck to the side of your pinky finger as you stack everything together and straighten it against the table so that everything in your bag gets inside all neat and even.Â
âMan, [Name], you always keep everything so neat,â Yuuji comments, âI just stuff everything in my bag. Surprised I havenât lost all my stuff yet.âÂ
âThatâs why all your stuff comes out crumpled,â you say, âYour notebooks come out like they came out a ratâs nestâ no offence.âÂ
âNone taken,â he replies, bending down dramatically, âSeriously, [Name], youâre a really good student! Smart, too.âÂ
âYou sure?â you ask, standing up with the straps of your bag slung against your shoulders, the two of you exiting the classroom, âI fell asleep during class and only woke up when she gave us those questions. Iâm gonna have to check the textbook to finish it up tonightâŚâÂ
âStill smart to me, honestly,â he states, âIâm a pretty dumb guy.âÂ
You hit him playfully on the shoulder, and he jerks forward for a second before coming back up again. âNah, be confident! Youâre, like, good at sports and English and stuff. I canât do any sports to save my life.âÂ
âWell itâs not like I can do maths for shit, honestly.â He slumps down.Â
Thenâ âAh, wait, Yuji, sorryâ Iâve to go to the bathroom for a second to check somethingâ!âÂ
âHuh? Check what? Wait, uhâ want me to hold your bag for you?âÂ
âSureââ your pads are in thereâ âWait, nononononoâ Iâll be fine, donât worry, just something quick, hold on. You go without me first, âkay? Iâll meet you at the famima we always go to.âÂ
It turns out to not be a false alarm, and the thing comes early by a few days. Youâre lucky you at least have some of your emergency supplies with you so that you can still have a fun day with Yuuji as long as you donât drink too much green tea or coffee. A little should be fine, though, right?Â
Still, you could always cell-manipulate your way out of unexpected situations like these. You just choose not toâ itâs not worth the trouble of headaches or nosebleeds. Whoâd want to willingly bleed from the top and the bottom at once, really?Â
You check your appearance in the mirror afterward, and everything looks okayâ your hair is normal despite school airâs penchant for ruining it, your uniform looks alright even though your skirt pocket may look a little weird later once you put your phone in it, and your face is the same as earlier today, so⌠well. You donât know what that says about whether your face looks good or not right now, but you guess this is alright.Â
[Yuuji]
yo
you okay?what happened
who spends ten hole minutes pissing
[Name]
*whole***
Sighs incredibly loudly
Itadori Yuuji.Â
What the fuck did you think I was doing
It was my period
Came early :(
[Yuuji]
OHHH SHIT
SORRYâŚ
thought u had a stomach ache or smth
everything okay?Â
i can like buy more pads or smth for you
[Name]
Mhm yeah Iâm okay
Itâs okay Iâve got enough at home anyway
If ur buying drinks could you not get me any kind of tea
Or coffee
Like nothing with caffeine in it
[Yuuji]
yes queen o7
i can go back and bring it up to u yknow
[Name]
Nah
Iâm fine
[Yuuji]
ok i bought u a sandwich nd a seasonal drink thing
no coffee or teaÂ
[Name]
aw thx man
coming soon, otw rn
Though itâs a bit far away, the sight that greets you as you finally arrive shocks you immediately. Heâs got a little blood on his faceâ thatâs already way too much then you can handle being on his face. It couldnât be from anything like acne or a popped pimple; the guyâs got clear skin for days and though thereâs nothing but a tiny scratch by the side of his cheek youâre running over to him.Â
But this is whatâs worse: high school students, about three of them, lying on the floor, passed out like animal carcasses. Thereâs another one standing, with straight light-coloured hair and enough fear on his face to seem as if heâd just witnessed a war.Â
And Yuujiâs expression, which is clear as day even with the distance between you: eyes uncharacteristically cold, face distorted away from his usual boyish grin, aura radiating off of him, lacerating through his usual self like a wolfâs claws through raw, cold meat in the tundra.Â
ââŚwhat about you?â Yuuji says to the guy with light hair.Â
You run.Â
âYuuji!â
âHuh?â He notices you. â[Name]?âÂ
âYuujiâ what happened to you?âÂ
âNo, justââ Heâs back to normal. âSaw some of them picking on someone, so I started beating them up.âÂ
âWhatâ seriously? You couldâve, like, called the police or something, you idiot!âÂ
âBut it wasnât in school, so I didnât know what to do⌠plus, weâre in different schools and allâŚâÂ
âW-well if you call the police, their punishment would have been worse, right?â you sigh, âAlright, what happened to the one getting picked on? Are they okay?âÂ
âHe ran away,â he shakes his head.Â
Poor guy.
ââŚand this one, the one standing up here?â you ask, âIs he okay? He looks pretty traumatised.âÂ
âIâm right here, you know!â the standing guy answers. So besides standing in silence, he can talk after all.Â
âOh, this one?â Yuuji points, again not acknowledging him. He was just standing there, stunned like a deer in headlights, instead of lying on the ground. âJust seemed like peer pressure or something. He didnât hurt the guy.â
âAh⌠whatâs your name, guy?âÂ
ââŚRin Amai,âÂ
âYou okay?âÂ
ââŚyeah, just, I guess, surprised? I mean, by the pink-haired guyâs strength and all. You guys are middle schoolers, right? That means heâs crazy strong.âÂ
âHis name is Itadori,â you sigh, âYeah. Heâs a strong guy like that. He stands up for good things.âÂ
Yuuji chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, âAw, thanks, man!âÂ
âWell, now that theyâre knocked out, I can kind of say I didnât like them that much to begin withâŚâ Rin remarks.Â
âAh, I get that. Nobody likes people like them. When you can, stand up for others next time, okay?â you advise him, âGot any injuries?âÂ
âNo, just a scratch here and there. Iâll be fine. Thanks, you two.âÂ
âNo worries.âÂ
âStill wanna go to the arcade?â Yuuji asks.Â
The two of you say your goodbyes to Rin, who offers to wait with the knocked-out students after thatâ youâll probably only ever see him once or twice after this. Yuuji offers to take your bag but you deny him, and the two of you stroll to the arcade.Â
This has happened before, really, and thereâs some kind of anticipatory grief sticking to you as you ruminate over what heâd done. Itâs like youâre waiting for things to worsen: either you tell him that he shouldnât have beat students up even if it was for the sake of others, or you donât and make decisions conflicting with your own moral code. The last time youâd seen someone get back from a fight, your relationship with them ended up severed, whether due to your commitment to your own ideals or not.Â
You debate on asking him not to do the same next time, not to get hurt and not to hurt people who pick on others, andâ Â
âthe arcade is closed.Â
âAaaahhh! Seriously? Sorry, [Name]. Forgot they said theyâd be closed today. Last week one of the employees told me theyâd have to settle some issues or something.âÂ
Of course heâd befriend the employees. It still surprises you that every now and then heâs so kind it hurts.Â
âNo, itâs fine,â you reassure him, âYou know, I donât really feel up to it today either. Still kinda shaken.âÂ
âDonât worry about that, honestly! Iâm fine, and theyâre fine too.â Â
âWill they be, though? Have you gotten any injuries?âÂ
âDonât think so. Iâll be okay anyway, though, âcause Iâve got a high pain toleranceâ ow!âÂ
ââHigh pain tolerance,â huh?â you sigh, âIs it a strain? Are you okay?âÂ
He winces, âI donât know if itâs a strain or a sprain,â he answers, âBut itâs on my ankle, and it hurts a lot.âÂ
âCan you walk?âÂ
âYeah, butâ it hurtsâŚâÂ
You rest his arm on top of your back, taking hold of his shoulder, guiding him on the way back to his home.Â
His grandfatherâ a man with grey hair yet enough energy to wake up at 6am before exercising and going on walks every morningâ nods after you explain the situation to him, and lets you stay with Yuuji for now due to your worrying.Â
The first thing to do with a sprain or a strain is to rest the injured area.Â
âItâs strange that you got it on your ankle of all places,â you say, outstretching his leg for him, âWere you walking funny or anything?âÂ
âNope.âÂ
âMaybe youâve been overusing it, then,â you theorise, âOkay. No running and all for a few days, okay? Or just, until it feels better.âÂ
âHuh? But Iâm in the track and field clubâŚâÂ
âSpend some time with the occult club or something,â you tell him, âYou can just tell the student council president or the track and field club president that it hurts, so youâve got to go to the occult club to still be able to support your other interests and stuff as you recuperate.âÂ
âNah, theyâd call bullshit.âÂ
âPft. You donât know if you donât try,â you joke. âWait a second, let me go get some ice.âÂ
He lies down, his arms resting by his stomach. âYou know, [Name]âŚâ he starts, his voice louder for you to hear.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âIâm happy youâre my friend.âÂ
If you were a dog, youâd be wagging your tail and kicking your feet up into the air, so happy that your smile is uncontrollableâ and the last time it had been that way was more than a few years ago.Â
His voice stays as loud but you hear it better, clearer, as you move up the stairs with the ice pack. âI mean, I thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Likeâ I mean, youâre a lonely girl too sometimes, I think.âÂ
You sit down beside him, probably a little too plaintive in your actions than you intended. ââŚyeah. Guess people could tellâŚâÂ
âBut, hey. I met you and we get to do all sorts of cool and dumbass shit together. So Iâm happy I met you and that we became friends, you know? Iâm happy youâre even here. So now weâre both a little less lonely, and the world has two new people who are a little less than lonely.âÂ
Itâs warm despite it being winterâ you hope his hoodie and his student jacket are enough to keep him from freezing. Every time you enter his house, you wonder how he must have lived as a child. You imagine a smaller-sized Yuuji, with wild pink hair and a tired grandfather, living in this house with its wooden tiles and untorn paper calendars from the year 2000, in his endearingly tardy room and boyish clothing choices. The thought of it melts your heart, almost.Â
âYeah. Iâm happy youâre in my life, too, Yuuji,â you beam, âIâm happy you said hi to me that day, because I probably wouldnât have made any friends. Like, I thought every time we moved somewhere weâd move again to somewhere else, so I kind of gave up. I didnât want to get attached. Because there would always be something happening after, like us moving and eventually I thought every day was a chore, because I had this kind of⌠how do I say itâ this kind of âIâll escape one dayâ mentality, like I didnât move forward to each day anymore. But being friends with you brought that back to me, kinda.âÂ
âReally?â he says as you wrap the ice pack in a towel and press it to his ankle, turning his head to meet yours, âMakes me pretty glad. Thanks, man.âÂ
âIâm glad too.âÂ
âYouâre a great nurse,â he grins at you, before leaning his head back against his bed.Â
It feels good. The praise feels good.Â
Now you really donât know what to do with him. Or what to do with how you feel about him.Â
For a moment you consider this: pressing your hand to his ankle, healing it immediately, placing your hands on his ankle and healing it with your cursed technique. But even so youâd have to explain the whole of jujutsu society to him, and that was meant to be a well-kept secret anyway. Yuuji wouldnât be the type to do well as a jujutsu sorcererâ heâd save everyone, care for everyone, not because judging who would be right or wrong to save was often convoluted or unsolvable, but because he was a good person. If he failed to help people in dire need, whether it was his fault or not, he would be so guilty he wouldnât live. You supposed a part of you was like that, too: driven by fear of potential guilt, yet you were driven even more by a need to be useful. If at the end of the day you could help, even if you couldnât offer someone salvation, youâd accept itâ that certain things were out of your control. There would be no point in lingering over not being able to change things you couldnât change, and your experience in Tokyo last month was part of that. It was what changed almost everything. And you swore youâd never let Yuuji go through anything that would change him, that would take that pure love for the world from him. His name is fitting: his humanity is unwavering, a soldier fighting a losing battle, Sisyphus rolling his boulder up the hill and living through his suffering, the indomitable human spirit against the cruel indifference of the world and the universe.Â
Youâll tell him one day, you decide.Â
For now, though, youâll have to make yourself useful another way: by using the knowledge you have to be at his aid. Thatâs how youâll like it anyway.Â
âThanks, Yuuji,â you whisper.Â
Yuuji dozes off. You sit next to him as if heâs a patient at a hospital, watching his breath rise and fall. A part of you wants the moment to stretch out into perpetuity, his steady snoring lulling even you to sleep. Itâs creepy as hell. And knowing that you could have all of this: seeing him like this, going to the arcade every Thursday, minding each othersâ health; all of it without it leading to him liking you the same way you do himâÂ
âit still hurts. But itâs getting easier to handle it. Youâll deny that it still hurts for as long as you can, staving it off until it really does go away. So youâll keep silent, no one beside you knowing of your feelings, trying your best to be utilised and useful. Youâll take it to the grave, youâre sure. Youâll continue to be by the sidelines, a helper for convenience and someone to serve, someone to be used.
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 3: motion
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chapter synopsis:
'You may forget this in the future, but you swear youâll try your very best to remember it and be like Tsumiki. Because sheâs going places; sheâs got a promising future and good ideals she seems sheâll stick to until she reaches the grave, because sheâs the type to change the trajectory of othersâ lives even now at the tender, juvenile age of nine.'
---
Fushiguro Tsumiki is amazing and she's changed the trajectory of your life. You decide to hope you can do the same for others.
Fushiguro Megumi is someone you meet again after six years, only for the two of you to have become so very different since then.
Itadori Yuji is, well, a fun guy to hang out with. That's all you know for now.
word count: ~10k (this chapter was hell to edit on tumblr); tws: mild âgoreâ again? (a fight scene)
30-11-2010
âWhenâs Megumiâs birthday, actually?â you ask one day after finishing the last of your homework off at their place.Â
âOh! December 22nd,â Tsumiki states. Megumiâs scrubbing a plate in the kitchen. âAre you planning to give him anything?âÂ
âIâll see what I can,â you reply, âBut I just wanted to know. What do you usually do for your birthdays, though?âÂ
âHmm,â Tsumiki pauses, âWe usually only have Mr Gojo and some of his friends overâ oh, hi, Megumi!âÂ
âYay, youâre back!âÂ
âWe were just talking about your birthday,â you inform him. ââŚyou know, Iâve been meaning to ask something, actually. I never really see you guysâ parents, so, um⌠are they busy? Are they out of the country for work, or something?âÂ
âOhâ no, our parents left.âÂ
Left? Like, abandoned?
âOhâ oh my goodness, Iâm so sorry! I thought they just had work or something and could never come back earlierâ I never even thoughtâ!âÂ
ââTheyâre probably having fun or dying in a ditch somewhere, though,â Megumi interrupts, âItâs not a problem to either of us. Itâs not like we knew them that well either. I canât even remember them,â he explains.Â
âOhâŚâ you trail off, turning to face the table. If theyâd really gone away when the two were so young, Tsumiki, the older sister, must have tried to be the âadultâ, right? That sounds difficult. And youâve heard that children are like plants, and plants need to have enough space to growâ you can recall that fact from your science classes. So if theyâd grown so close to each other with no one else save that weird benefactor guy, would they have been able to grow properly? It must have felt suffocating for both of them, right? Maybe they didnât realise it if theyâd been so comfortable with and used to what theyâd been having their whole livesâ only each other?Â
Or maybe youâre thinking ahead of yourself and in reality they were okay. Itâs not like they wouldnât be either way, but maybe the benefactor spent more time with them growing up, and they had more friends before you than you thinkâ you know that Tsumiki does, even if Megumi doesnât.Â
âMegumi, you shouldnât curse people by talking about them dying like that.âÂ
âSo what? Itâs the truth.âÂ
âHey, donât argueâŚâ you start.Â
âHmâ? Sorry, [Name]! Itâs our own issueâ donât worry about it,â she says, her smile a little forced, the remnants of her frown still left on her face, âRight, Megumi?â Oh, sheâs angry. Oh no.Â
âIâll never understand why youâre like this,â he says, heading to his room.Â
âHeyâ whyâre you leaving?â He walks out anyway.Â
âTsumiki, whyâs he leaving?â She frowns again.Â
âIâm sorry, [Name],â she says, âMegumi just thinks that you shouldnât be nice to people.âÂ
âHuh? Nice in what way?âÂ
âNo, itâs just⌠when people do bad things, I think we should forgive them. We shouldnât punish them instead. We have to be kind because everyone has a reason for what they do, so we should just be kind to whoever we see.âÂ
ââŚuh-huh. I guess. But my mummy says that sometimes if you do that too much life gets harder.âÂ
âIt gets harder if you think it does. Megumi thinks like that too, calling me a hypocrite when I tell him to forgive people and things like that,â she says, ââŚyou know what I think, [Name]?âÂ
âI think that youâre a kind person. I think that everyone and anyone can be kind in any way. Itâs just that we have to think weâre kind and everything comes easy. I think that kind of life is the best. SoâŚâ she grins, and itâs light and happy again, but you see the sagacity in her eyes, and maybe how tired yet satisfied she may be on her lower eyelids. âDonât give up on trying to be a good person, [Name]. Or maybe just being a kind one, because I think youâd be amazing at that.âÂ
âOhâŚâ you say. If your eyes could, they would have stars in them. Nobodyâs told you you could be amazing at something, much less good. Youâre quiet and nobody listens to you. Every parent-teacher-meeting always ends with the conclusion that youâre quite an alright student, but even more so a reticent girl. For years your parents have been telling you to speak up or to be more confident and the only people youâve been able to speak easily to are Tsumiki and Megumi. The two of them are the only ones who have ever said much beyond your timid demeanour.Â
You may forget this in the future, but you swear youâll try your very best to remember it and be like Tsumiki. Because sheâs going places; sheâs got a promising future and good ideals she seems sheâll stick to until she reaches the grave, because sheâs the type to change the trajectory of othersâ lives even now at the tender, juvenile age of nine. Itâs strange how she doesnât know that, how she must think that she and Megumi are close friends and that the impact sheâs had on you is far less than that; itâs strange how you can meet other people at any time and if itâs the right person, no matter what, your life will be affected. Itâs strange that there is such a thing as fate.Â
Itâs 2010 and you think this year is one you want to keep lasting forever.Â
27-6-2016
It happens on one summer evening.Â
Everything seems like itâs empty; from the streets and their dusty white concrete turning grey as theyâre drenched with water, to the rain that news outlets report to be more saturated with acid as the years go by, to the houses and trees that around this time are either deafeningly loud with either the quiet, the sound of cicadas or the temporarily never-ending downpour.Â
But for a while, on that morning, the place where youâre settled inâ for nowâ is the rainâs dominion, and youâre just a feeble, powerless human at the hands of natureâs relentlessness.Â
So you stay under the convenience store awning, hiding in the shade from the rain after running an errand. The last time youâd got drenched in this type of weatherâ about two weeks agoâ youâd got ill, and it only caused your parents more problems, as your mother chided you. Being sick in the summer wasnât that bearable for you eitherâ no, it was something hellish. Sometimes you could handle being sick in the winter with a runny nose or getting mild colds in the spring, but being sick during summer time was the worst. Youâd be struggling to breathe through mucus-filled lungs and you wouldnât be able to swallow anything without triggering a terrible ache in your phlegm-filled throat due to post-nasal drip. Youâd be feeling like ridding yourself of anything resting in your insides, from toxins to food; you wouldnât be eating or ingesting anything except water and the constant sensation of feeling faint weighing you down would seem like it were about to kill you prematurely as the sweat from a high fever made you feel immeasurably weak, like a helpless child trapped in the confines of your own body.Â
âAre you okay?â the cashier by the counterâ not the one whoâs usually there, though, so you presume that this oneâs a replacementâ asks as youâre lost in your own thoughts, âI can give you an umbrella. For free.âÂ
Youâd insist on paying if you had any cash, but your now empty wallet reminds you of the fact that youâre all out. You have a tiny quibble with the kind lady before she finally gives in, and youâre off on your way back home.Â
Even upon further inspection as you exit the store, she still seems like a run-off-the-mill cashier. She seems to be in her early 20s, some college student back for the summer part-timing at the local convenience store for extra cash, maybeâ with a sort of wistful yet coltish smile and a mole by the side of her right eye.Â
âYou know, you really shouldnât be so insistent on not doing things if those thingsâll do you good,â she tells you, âI meanâ I know that sounds kinda mean, and that in asian cultures like ours we naturally say stuff that deprecates ourselves, but I really do think that you should, um⌠how do I say it?â she ponders aloud, âAha! âYes, you should just look out for yourself and let people help you. It does everybody a little better. And, you know, youâll be able to live life without regrets, because there wonât really be an opportunity cost for letting people help you, and theyâll like helping you too. I mean, who doesnât like helping others? Wait, you get what I mean, right?â
â...it sounded like you were rambling,â you tell her, then step back, âUm. Sorry.âÂ
âNo, no! Itâs fine! Like, um, you and I are kinda similar in that regard, I guess? Weâre both awkward and weâre strangers but I just thought that the advice would do you some good, you know?âÂ
âAhâ I get it, sorry,â you repeat, âItâs just that⌠Iâm not used to that, maybe? I donât want to be a burden on others.â Not anymore.Â
She purses her pink-glossed lips. âItâll be hard to live like that, you know. If you live like that you wonât know who you are.âÂ
Itâs strange to hear that from a literal stranger. Whatâs even stranger is how deep the conversation is. Wasnât this the time to make small talk? You didnât talk to strangers very often, especially those in stores and all. At least not for this long.Â
âI⌠uh. Iâll seeâ I guessâŚâ you mutter. The conversation dies there. You really arenât suited for things like that. You can only find it easy to communicate and speak in that way when itâs with Tsumiki or your parents. Otherwise, youâd be stuttering and muttering your way through valleys of words that you donât know if you should use, people demanding you speak up, or people commenting on how awkward you are, even if they mean so endearingly. You donât know the source of the problem, reallyâ maybe it was puberty and the onslaught of new, different people you had to talk to every time you moved? Maybe it is that. But this is your predicament: you used to be able to talk to people and over the years that just went away.Â
And itâs especially bad with people your ageâ the last time youâd been able to talk to someone your age in a normal, non-cloddish manner, was probably when you were eight.Â
Oh.Â
When you exit the shop, the skyâs been dipped in the sunset and it looks like a mix of purple and pink hues have been laid onto it like watercolour paint on fresh paper. The cashier waves you goodbye anyway, claiming that she hopes youâll come back soonâ you hope she doesnât hate you now, else youâd avoid this convenience store like the plague for the next few months. The plastic bag rustles and crinkles as its contents bump against your knees.Â
The air is still thick with petrichor and the breaths you take feel light and fresh, brushing against the inner walls of your lungs as you breathe in and out. There are water residuals left on the sidewalk in patches.Â
Suddenly it changesâ and you donât notice this until after it happens. The air grows heavy and everything around you feels volatile, like their constituents will be separated from each other at any moment, turned into a mangled mass of jostling particles; your ears feel as if theyâre so intensely covered to the point that you find it difficult to catch a breath; you canât bring your lungs to continue moving after that hitched breath you made once you felt it. Thereâs something in the air, something disgusting and thick and suffocating. It fills you with ominousness. It fills you with a feeling of sickness, of suffering, of shame and fear and sadness, and itâs lurking somewhere, somewhere in the dark.Â
Cursed energy.Â
You remember your father talking about it, mentioning how it felt in passing.Â
Oh no.Â
âHelp!â a voice eruptsâ itâs the same voice from the cashier, except this time it isnât pleasant, itâs frantic, noâ downright terrified.Â
If there is anything youâd consider yourself it isnât someone who saved others.Â
Beyond the geographical sense of the word, you were the embodiment of stasis; something that didnât touch others at all and made no effort to do so. Youâd have no effect on any othersâ life and for a long time youâd accepted youâd live a life amounting to nothing. You knew that and walked into life thinking youâd just keep doing nothing until you died for some nondescript reason.Â
So you didnât really care about your future, and you abstained from thinking of the morality behind your actions because what was there to judge, anyway? You just had to follow what everyone else did, and none of your actions were so monumental to change anything. Being guilty over doing too little or doing nothing at all wouldnât change anything; you didnât have the power to change it and you didnât see the point of a Sisyphean life like such. Even if humanity would have tugged at your shoulder to do something and be removed from that state of stasis, you were sure everyone felt the same and the amalgamation of this was societyâs indifferenceâ after all, what was humanity, kindness, against societyâs apathy, its enemy; what was humanity when placed against what it had built itself into?Â
Thus for all your fourteen years of life you did nothing at all to change the trajectory of anything. It would be no use doing and no use trying. Nothing would come out of it in the end.Â
As long as you could be useful to your parents, or at least the people around you, you didnât have to care about being good or bad or kind or evil.Â
Youâd lived like that for a long time. Youâre not the type to save people, not the type to help those you know nothing of.Â
âI think that youâre a kind person. I think that everyone and anyone can be kind in any way. Itâs just that we have to think weâre kind and everything comes easy. I think that kind of life is the best. So⌠donât give up on trying to be a good person, [Name]. Or maybe just being a kind one, because I think youâd be amazing at that.âÂ
You look down at your clenched fists, at her hair tie and its cherry-red hue.Â
She did say youâd be good at it.Â
Itâs strange to think of your best friend now, but damn it, you really want to be like her now. You need to.Â
Else you wouldnât be able to live; you have the power to help people, right? And youâre probably one of the only people on this island with the ability to do so. At the very least youâve got some cursed energy, and youâve always been able to heal from injuries really quickly. Youâve seen enough, from simple shikigami to veils and simple domains cast by your father.Â
So there may be a chance, a one in a million chance. And youâre willing to take it. If you donât take it now and find that in the future you could have helped someone who would have gotten injured or worseâ itâs now of all times that you think you wouldnât be able to ever forgive yourself for such a thing.Â
You canât change the directions of othersâ lives. At least not if you keep thinking like that.Â
You grind your teeth and turn back, leaving the bags on the sidewalk. Youâll get them later. This is a ridiculous idea and youâre doing it anyway and your mind is screaming at your frozen legs to move and keep running, idiot, keep fucking moving because youâve got to save someone you may just be able to save. Someone you donât know, who may just be able to help. She said that you shouldnât deny things that can help you, after all. And she has to be helped, right? So youâre going to jump in and you wonât deny yourself from saving yourself from a life of guilt. And youâre going to be useful, too. Youâre going to help.Â
You really have to do this and all of a sudden you think you may be crying. But you run forward anyway. Youâre going to move away from that state of stasis; youâre going to change and shift and move; finally, itâs liberating and frightening and feels like living as you step into the store.Â
Your lungs are burning.Â
The curse looms over, a deformed, monstrous thing with its eyes and hands drowning in the mud-like substance it consists of.Â
Youâre going to make this work. Youâve seen your own cells once or twice before in science classes and all, you remember how your father had the old microscope he used to use for work, and brought it out for you to look at what made you. Youâre your fatherâs daughter so youâll make this work, your promise yourselfâ and you think of those cells, you conjure that image of them in your head and focus on them shifting, changing to make something new. You force them to multiply by the millions in a tenth of a minute, then you cut them off from your body. You make a tiny blister and goodness you canât imagine you can actually do it but youâve got to digress from that and worry about the college student cashier first, and how sheâs trembling at the sight before her.Â
Thereâs a bruise on her arm, and so youâve got to examine the situation: sheâs holding it to her chest so you can imagine sheâs only been wounded on the skin and hasnât been scratched or anything. You imagine her cellsâ they mustnât look too different from yoursâ and heal them back up, the blotch of a bruise disappearing as if wiped over by a stain remover. âCalm down!â you shout at her, and you really donât mean to, but adrenaline and anxiety and the whole situation are getting your heart pounding unlike ever before.Â
âWaitâ donât touch that thing!â she shouts, âYouâll end up getting bruised by the hands!â
So what next? âCursed energy alone can kill other curses if thereâs enough of it, right? And your mother told you about how some people imbue things with cursed energy.Â
Then you run to the curse slapping it with as much force as you can muster, and itâs arms outstretch to snatch you and force you all around, hitting you abrasives against the shelves of the buns you bought earlier, scraping your skin against the surface of the counterâs edge or nearly smashing your shoulder against the wall, but you keep your hand on any part of it no matter what. You surge your cursed energy, splitting part of it to heal your wounds and the other part of it to overload it with cursed energy. The more intense you get, the harder it hits. But you canât give upâ youâre going to commit to it and stick to something; youâre going to do something thatâll amount to another thing for once. The sight of the cashier hiding under the counter, hunched and praying is enough for you to keep going. She doesnât deserve that.Â
You load it with all the cursed energy you can manage as a rookieâ you donât think this is as much as a rookie has, though, so you probably have a lot and you promise youâre coming out of this thing alive. For once youâre going to swear youâll keep living this intensely.Â
Eventually it fizzles out, its energy, and you just keep overloading it with cursed energy. Youâve still got a lot left. Thatâs good. Extremely so.Â
It bursts all over the convenience store, the ways it was made of. Itâs going to be hassle to clean. You fall on the ground face flat and heal yourself. Thereâs a nosebleed, you think, from such a large amount of cursed energy. Youâre panting heavier than youâve ever done in your from any race or PE class.Â
But youâve discovered that you are the type to help others. Youâve discovered that you can change othersâ lives if you want to.Â
And itâs really frightening, but youâre happy. You donât have to be a jujutsu sorcererâ you know too little of cursesâ organic matter to be able to do this without making it alive yourselfâ but youâre going to devote your life to helping others.Â
Who knows? Maybe youâll be a doctor in that world, a nurse, or something. You wonât have to be too involved in its inner workings; you wonât be on the front lines. Still, youâll help and youâll be useful. Youâll help and your life will be a good one to live, hopefully.Â
Shakily, she moves up. Youâre shaking too, gooseflesh and cold sweat and temperatures going wild in and on your body.Â
âA-are you okay?â she asks.Â
âOhâ uhm, yeah!â you say, rubbing the blood off your philtrum. Youâll have to have a really long shower once you get back. Maybe youâll draw a bath or something. âSorry, I⌠uhâ I should have asked you to go outside or something. Could you not tell anyone about this? If youâre injured anywhere Iâll try my best to patch you up as long as you donât tell anyone about this.âÂ
âIâ okay⌠god, youâre just a kid,â she goes, âWhat happened back there, actually?âÂ
âHave you ever seen stuff like that before? Like that monster?âÂ
ââŚno.âÂ
âOh, I see. Well, donât worry about it, because there are people who take care of stuff like that. You seeing it was just a one-time thing. It probably wonât ever happen again!â you say, holding your thumb up. âPromise not to tell anyone, okay?âÂ
âAlright. Just⌠you okay? Want me to help you with anything? I mean, itâs pretty late now.âÂ
âIâll be okay. But I think Iâve got to go home now. Could you let me see any injuries you had got just now, first?âÂ
28-6-2016
You only arrive back at midnight. The weatherâs fully put a stop to its torrents and your parents are worried sick. Youâre so tired you could faintâ fighting the curse took more out of your mental energy than you thought it would, and you have a splitting headache as the result of it.Â
When they see you and sense the cursed energy, you explain whatever happened. Once youâre done your father shudders, and your mother stands up.Â
âWhatever it is, Iâm not letting you be a jujutsu sorcerer,â she states resolutely, âIâm never going to let you be one.âÂ
27-12-2016
The date you and Megumi have agreed on (with the help of Tsumiki as a sort of middleman) is about a week after his fourteenth birthday.Â
Your parents told you to be carefulâ itâs a long trip to and from Tokyo, and youâre going all alone.Â
This is the travel plan: fly from Kagoshima to Tokyo, stay at Megumi and Tsumikiâs for a while, and ultimately find the courage to hand him the letter before you leave. Maybe youâll see if he still cares for you while youâre at it.Â
To be honest you donât completely feel like going there anymoreâ youâll always love Tokyo, itâs just that things will be painfully awkward between you and Megumi. So you remind yourself of Tsumiki, and that youâre mostly doing this for her. Any of the three of you can be the glue holding the other two together at any given moment, and now itâs Tsumiki playing that role.Â
Friends will always be above boys, anyway. So youâre doing this for Tsumiki and not him or yourself.Â
When youâre finally at the airport, Tsumiki greets you with a hug and Megumi in tow. Youâve her old hair tie on your wristâ itâs come in handy multiple times since then. They both look so different now: Tsumikiâs still tall, but her hair has grown longer, more luscious and she looks so pretty you understand why she had received so many anonymous confession letters on Valentineâs Day this year. Megumiâs taller too, and though itâs slightly embarrassing the first thing you think of when you see him is how handsome he looks, at least as far as boys your age go. The viridian of his eyes is a lush summer day in a capsule, a contrast to his jet black hair spiking in all directions and his eyelashesâ and those, too, those eyelashes, goodnessâ they look like they were woven by silk or taken off a doll: theyâre so unbelievably long and curly and pretty. Your face is as hot as an oven thatâs about to bake up a whole cake and let it expand and rise. Theyâre the kind of people you see on television, each so beautiful like the other and you almost feel as if youâre intruding; you canât imagine how out of place you must look with them from the eyes and viewpoints of other people.Â
âTsumiki!â you grin as youâre still kept in her arms, âLong time no see!âÂ
â[Name]! Finally! Oh, you look so pretty now!âÂ
âHaha, really? I was thinking the same about you, though. Iâm so happy to see you, seriously!âÂ
âMe too!âÂ
You step back and pull away.Â
âHi, Megumi,â you say. Youâre nervous, but you canât deny youâre happy. You smile as you look at himâ the two of you are no longer the same height anymore. You tug at the straps of your bag, feeling the weight of you pulling the straps down on your shoulder. ââŚitâs nice to see you again.âÂ
ââŚnice to see you again, too.âÂ
Whyâd he have to stop talking to you? Whyâd he have to avoid you? âHowâs⌠um, howâs everything?âÂ
A glimpse from your peripheral vision shows Tsumiki with sparks in her eyes. She really was so excitedâ and maybe a little too hopeful, because you donât think anything will happen at all. The incident from June makes you feel like you should try to hope for something, though. But you probably wonât be completing this trip with a new boyfriend kissing your neck or something.Â
âItâs been okay,â he answers.Â
ââŚitâs the same for me.âÂ
âThatâs good to know.âÂ
You take the train back with them, breathing in how crowded Tokyo is once again. When youâd first arrived six years ago you felt like a country bumpkin, the masses of people turned into one giant entity never once fathomed by your eight year old mind. Now youâre fourteen, and the lights with their neon sparks, the dark concrete bathed in streetlights when the sun sets, the moon hanging overhead over a multifaceted maze of buildingsâ it feels a bit like coming home, even if you only called it home for a little less than twelve months of a life spanning some number roughly around five thousand, one hundred and ten days.Â
You really love Tokyo. But more than that you love the people you met in it during what feels like a lifetime ago.Â
The cold air that you breathe in as the three of you walk and take the turn to their house fills your lungs, settling into them like they never left.Â
ââAnd you remember that old maths teacher?â Tsumiki laughs, ââYou children have to harness your mental prowess!ââ she quotes, holding two fingers on each hand up in the air.Â
âOh my god,â you say, playfully rolling your eyes, âI was so sick of him last timeâ bet heâd feel old as hell now if he saw us all grown up like this.âÂ
âWe saw him last week,â Megumi adds, âThat old geezer expected college-level intelligence from bunches of feral eight and nine year old kids.âÂ
âI mean, you were a smart kid, Megumi,â you recall, âTsumiki too. But that guy, seriouslyâŚâ
âHey! You were a smart kid too, [Name]! But was there anyone who didnât hate him last time?âÂ
âNever, probably,â you agree, âHe was so infuriating. Ughâ Oh! Weâre here! I havenât been here in so long, oh my goodnessâŚâÂ
Megumi works the key in and opens the door. You inhale the scent of their house, a mosaic of memories and old book pages. Places like these deserve to remain treasured forever.Â
The three of you step in. Smiley Tsumiki, frowny Megumi and you. This is the home that will never leave you no matter what. This is what youâd call home even if youâre not in Tokyo, or away from them, because it felt like a constant for a year and that was enough to feel like you went to it at least five times a week for less than a full year. Â
It feels good to be home. It feels better to call it that after years of not feeling as if you really ever had one at all.Â
28-12-2016
You canât sleep.Â
Theyâve helped you unpack all your things, youâre clad in pyjamas and have had a thorough shower, and the white blanket on the futon is warm on the inside and cold on the outsideâ perfect for sleeping comfortably. But you canât get a wink of sleep.Â
Since youâd first discovered that you could, in fact, use cell manipulation, your nights had always been like this.Â
To use it properly with your own organic matter, cell manipulation requires cooperation with your brain and your stomachâ the source of cursed energy. Imagining the cells enough and applying cursed energy to them required your brain to overload itself with both cursed energy and information, and adding commands to that, making yourself do even the slightest bit of actions with your cellsâ felt like leaving your brain in the microwave. The fact that your gutâ for your cursed energyâ and your brainâ for command and controlâ had to work together added more of a headache on top of that. Headaches and nosebleeds and your brain being unable to shut down became what you were used to.Â
Did you keep doing it anyway? Yesâ you still had the intention of helping people with it, after all. You held on to the hope that you could be a doctor or a nurse for jujutsu sorcerers or something, not an actual sorcerer in that world itself. You assumed your mother would be fine with that at least. Youâd be satisfied with something like that as well, even at the cost of your sleep and health. You were still young, and the only two people who could do anything like this were you and your over fifty year old father. And you didnât want him doing that at all for any longer.Â
Clangâ!Â
The water bottle on the bedside table falls to the carpeted floor with a bang against the wood under itâ you rush to pick it up with as little sound as you can manage.Â
Stealthily, you step out of bed. If your memory serves you right, the kettle should be on top of the drawer next to the oven.Â
Youâll drink some hot water or tea and lull yourself to a peaceful night eventually, you decide.Â
Then thereâs a knock on the door. Itâs lightâ so light that it would be inaudible had you stayed on the bed instead of moving nearer to the door, and so soft even the lightest of sleepers wouldnât hear it. So whoever this is, they must know that youâre awake. Youâre sure you wouldnât have caught it at all and for a second you wonder whether there really was someone knocking the door after all. Tsumiki seems to be fast asleep, thoughâ you can hear her muffled snoring from the other side of the wall. Thank goodness sheâs a heavy sleeper. Youâre not too sure about how Megumi fares in that sense.Â
You turn the cold metal knob and open the door.Â
In the dim light the front of his bodyâs barely visible, its glow only tracing the outline of his left shoulder from the back.Â
âCanât sleep?â you ask, keeping your voice as soft as you can to prevent cracking your voice once youâve started speaking.Â
âI heard something,â Megumi answers, âDid you fall?âÂ
âIt was just my water bottle. Did I wake you up? Sorry.âÂ
âNo, donât worry about that.âÂ
âWhyâre you still awake?âÂ
He places his hand on the door frame, voice lower than earlier that night. âWhy are you? Itâs way past midnight,â he adds, â...I couldnât fall asleep either, to be honestâŚâÂ
âInsomnia, huh?â you go, âThis happens to me all the time, too.âÂ
âNo, it only happens once in a while,â he remarks, âUsually I sleep pretty well.âÂ
âOh. You wanna come inside? We can, like, talk, or something. We can catch up.âÂ
âSure.âÂ
You guide him over to the edge of the bed, and he shuts the door before he sits down beside you. There is no way you can think to describe this other than saying that itâs strange, really: the boy you had a crush on six years ago, who was one of your closest friends, has grown more than thirty centimetres, and the aura surrounding the two of you is more awkward than any conversation youâve ever had in your life. Neither of you question why the light isnât turned on, and neither of you head to the bedside table to flip the light switch anyway, so the scene in their guest room is of two fourteen year oldâ about to be fifteen year olds in a little over three days, thoughâ kids in the dark either reminiscing over memories or trying to catch up despite having changed so much.Â
âSo howâs life?â you start.Â
âNothing much happens at all, honestly. Wait, [Name]ââ When he says your name itâs like your chest makes one full leap. ââI think I should let you know, six years ago, the dog you sawââÂ
âI already know about all that,â you tell him, âMy parents told me. âŚhey, wanna see something I can show you with my own cursed technique?âÂ
â...okay.âÂ
You hold your hand out.Â
âIt may be hard to see it in the dark, butâŚâÂ
He turns the light on for you before you finish and you thank him. It must have been silly to try and show it to him when everything was engulfed in the night despite the fact that you were closer to the switch. You lean back as he outstretches his arm to do it.Â
âSee?â You hold your hand up, palm displayed and facing him, before closing your eyes and imagine your heaps of skin cells and red blood cells. Youâre bound to have a headache by tomorrow, but itâll be worth it. At least thereâs something you can show him, something new you can let him know of. This was âcatching upâ, anyway.Â
â[Name]!â He whispers, but the urgency in his voice is clear. You close the wound up immediately, speeding through a healing process that would have taken days to be completed in the span of a few seconds. Tomorrow youâre going to end up having a nosebleed, too.Â
âAre you alright?â he goes, âYour nose is bleeding.âÂ
âIs it?â you reply, smiling, âDonât worry. Itâs just that Iâm not that used to it yet. I guess if I trained my body even more, it would be able to handle it better.âÂ
His hand strays to yours, most likely out of worry. You pull it back.Â
âSorry,â he says.Â
âSorry if I made you worry.âÂ
â...I donât think you should strain yourself,â he begins. Itâs like how you and your father speak to each otherâ how funny. âIf your own cursed technique does that to your body, itâs better if you donât use it at all.âÂ
âIâll be fine,â you say, âIâm not going to use it in fights or anything, either.âÂ
âYou wonât become a jujutsu sorcerer?âÂ
âNo,â you explain, âI mean, my dad was one and he quit a while ago, but I know itâll be hard to hold on and do so much with this during fights. I may just be like, backup, or a doctor or nurse, or something. You?âÂ
âI think itâs pointless to save others.âÂ
Wow, cringey much. Reminds you of yourself six months ago.Â
You donât press it any further.Â
âBut⌠about doctors and all, there are people like that. Only one, to be more specific.âÂ
âOh, well thenâ what's her name? Iâd love to meet her.âÂ
âIeiri Shoko. Want me to introduce her to you?âÂ
29-12-2016Â
He does try to take you to visit her the next day. You think the reason why heâs doing this is to avoid catching up, or at least actually talking about something beyond a superficial level. You think that if thatâs the truth behind this then you must be at fault too because you let him take you there with no hesitation whatsoever. Like adding opaque white tape over a fully painted canvas.Â
But he fails because of the man over the phone. Itâs probably that Gojo guy, that benefactor. Now that you know how strong he is in terms of sorcery, you guess that since heâs taking care of Megumi, Megumiâs probably a massive deal too.Â
âNo, Iâm just asking if she can visit right nowâ no, get your head out of the gutter, damn it!âÂ
He hangs up. âIâm seriously going to punch him,â he states, frowning. So itâs definitely Gojo, then. You remember him being really insufferable by Megumiâs standards. âSheâs busy, by the way. âŚsorry about that.âÂ
âCalm down, itâll be alright,â you say, âWe didnât have to. Letâs just go around the city like tourists or something. I think thatâs better anyway.âÂ
Tsumiki says she can come along with you, but sheâll have to leave at the stop right before Ueno for something importantâ a sudden appointment with someone, she saysâ before heading back and reconvening with you and Megumi. The three of you ride the Yamanote Line, but at the stop right before Uenoâyour first chosen destination for this tripâ Tsumiki has to leave, as sheâd said. She apologises profusely. You know she isnât slick. Â
You take your phone, texting her.Â
[Name]
Tsumiki
You ainât slick
Why
Seriously omfg
[Tsumiki]
Sorry, I would have joined, just wanted to test the waters hehehehe⌠(>âżâ )â
I mean you two seem ok
But let me know if anything bad happens okayyy???Â
You two seem pretty happy with each other though⌠also, what happened last night?Â
If youâre up to any hanky panky, donât do it under our roof (ă_ă)!!
[Name]
Literally so done with you right now -_-
But thanks I guess, Iâll see if we can catch up
AAAAAAHHHHH itâs gonna end up being so awkward I swear
[Tsumiki]
Good luck!! Love you bestieeee
Ttyl okay?? Gimme all the detailsÂ
âWhoâre you texting?â he whispers.Â
âJust a friend,â you say, as they announce that the train is in Ueno.Â
The day in Ueno Park goes quite smoothly, reallyâ but thereâs still little progress made and the letter seems to be having its screams more drowned out the more you tug on your bag.Â
âItâs pretty cold,â you comment as the two of you walk around, witnessing everyone else walking around with their huddled-up bundles of clothes and coats on, âNext time, if itâs not too crowded, we should, um⌠we should visit during autumn or spring. Together.âÂ
âTsumiki and I can come here anytime. It just depends on you,â he says, a little rougher than you think he intends, âWaitâ no, I mean, your timingââÂ
You giggle slightly. So youâre not the only one whoâs gotten more awkward since last time. Now he doesnât seem the type to be, thoughâ he seems more like those âcoolâ guys in shoujo mangas; those bad boys who the girls end up changing, or something. Kinda cringey. But the fact that heâs avoiding eye contact and turning his head away evasively so that you donât see him because of such a little slip-up in his phrasing is really, really cute. At least thatâs what you think. Itâs not like any other people would think the same, probably because of that frown or the fact that his voice doesnât seem any flustered at all. But you think thatâs okay. That makes it so that thereâs more for you to appreciate, maybe. âItâs fine,â you reassure him.Â
â...I brought a camera, by the way,â he says, digging for it in his pocket. The camera itself seems like one from the 2000sâ itâs the small type with the wrist strap, and the buttons on the side and all. âItâs⌠old, though.âÂ
âOh! That looks nice!â you comment. It really does. Your bagâs strapâ the damn thingâ slips off your shoulder again and youâve got to put it back securely in place. Your shoulder hurts and you regret bringing so much with you.Â
âWant me to hold your bag for youâŚ?âÂ
âNo, no, itâs okay,â you say, âItâs just that it goes off my shoulder sometimes and it can be pretty heavy. I packed too much stuff in it, heh.âÂ
âThen Iâll carry it. Give it here.âÂ
You end up handing him the bag. At least he doesnât mind how heavy it is, nor does he complain about what you must be packing, or anything. Itâs better than being forced to give your parents your things only for them to tell you to pack lighter ones.Â
âItâs good that we avoided the crowd, but now there arenât any leaves or flowersâŚâ you start. You hope it doesnât sound like complainingâ that would be awfully rude. âNormally, people would be having picnics here, right?â
âWe can still take pictures, though. Wait, can youâ can you stand in front of me, here?â he asks, his steps coming to a halt next to a small garden.Â
âOkay.âÂ
He brings the camera to his eye. âSmile,â he says.Â
Youâve quite an awkward-looking smile, you think. Itâs always bothered you slightly whenever your parents wanted to take pictures of you, but you smile anyway in the pictureâ you give him your brightest grin. Itâs not like either of you will keep it anyway, and you are happy: gratingly awkward or not, youâre still with an old friend.Â
âAh, delete that,â you tell him when he shows the picture to you. The backdrop is pretty, though. âYou should take a picture of the background. I look so bad in it.âÂ
âItâs a nice picture,â he argues, âYou look⌠nice.âÂ
You shift your line of sight to look at him, unsure if itâs out of incredulousness, or the fact that the whole situation seems to be a little silly, or the fact that heâs looking down at the picture with a gaze that warms your heart a bit. Those eyelids and lashes and green green pupils will be the death of you, youâre sure. You feel you could drown in them at any second. ââŚthanks.âÂ
He looks back at you.Â
âI think you look nice too, Megumi.â Â
Itâs really, really cold, but you feel your face heating up. For once in your life it doesnât feel like something you should be shy of.Â
30-12-2016
âCould you show me the dog again?â you ask him. Heâs on the bed again. Different day, same situation. âWhy did it suddenly pop out all those years ago anyway?âÂ
âIt was an accident,â he explains, âYou know how my Ten Shadows technique comes from the shadows, right? Wait, I should rephrase thatââ
âOh⌠I mean, donât worry, you donât sound rude or anything. I just wanted to see the dog. I mean, I like dogs! I still read books or articles about them every now and then.âÂ
âThere are actually two.âÂ
âTwo?â you go, wide-eyed and excited.Â
He summons them out of the ground, one dark with the same red markings, and the other the exact same dog as the one you saw six years ago. He does it effortlesslyâ thereâs no pain involved, no trade-off for getting to show someone his abilities. Itâs not like you and your fatherâs, with your headaches and nosebleeds and vertigo every time you use it even if itâs for something simple like opening up a wound and closing it, or creating tiny blisters. How terribly inconvenient it was for you, and how easy it was for Megumi to use it so quickly and painlessly. You were slightly jealous of him for it.Â
âItâs been so long since Iâve seen you!â you say, petting the white one. It cuddles up to you. The one with dark, fluffy fur does the same and youâve got each palm on each dogâs head.Â
You turn your head back to face him. âThank you, Megumi.âÂ
â...itâs nothing.âÂ
What a classic Megumi-like thing to say.Â
15-4-2017Â
Freshly fifteen years old, you know one thing. The friends you meet at this age are probably the best youâll ever have.Â
Youâre still training your cursed technique from time to time if only for leisure or any emergencies since your motherâs absolutely determined to keep you from being one. But youâre in a new place againâ your parents have chosen to move back to Sendaiâ where they lived and got married before you came along, and everything considered things arenât as bad as when you had to leave to and from Tokyo.Â
It all started with the classâs seating arrangement. You sat down after one of the classes, preparing yourself for a year where you had to search through the whole school for friends or spend it alone as you watched everyone else fall into their groups from the previous year like dozens of tiny puzzle pieces clicking into place again.Â
The clique in front of you is all looking at this one guy with unkempt hair as pink as cherry blossoms, or MyMelodyâs pink ribbon. Heâs got a boyish grin on his face that honestly makes him out to be a pretty nice guy.Â
âHey!â a guy greets, his hand up as heâs smiling at you, âMy nameâs Itadori Yuuji. Whatâs yours?âÂ
Heâs kind of tall, is a really smiley guy, and seems like heâd be pretty popular. He reminds you of a friendly puppy. Or one of those really, really cute seals people make videos of in aquariums.Â
You tell him your name. âYou⌠uh, you seem pretty popular, Itadori.âÂ
He pauses and turns his head up like heâs thinking. âWell⌠now that you mention it, I guess so,â he states, hand scratching the back of his neck, âTheyâre pretty cool, though. Donât worry!â
âOhâŚâÂ
âAnyway, where ya from?âÂ
âIâuh. I mean, my parents move a lot,â you say, âSo I guess you could say I donât know where Iâm from, myself? Sendaiâs my parentsâ hometown, though. And they wanted to be back for a while. So I transferred here.âÂ
âCool! So youâve got to see a lot of stuff?âÂ
âUh. Kind of?âÂ
He drags a seat from behind him before facing you. The way he sits is comfortable; itâs almost funnyâ youâre so awkward, so rigid like a frozen statue, and heâs actively trying to melt it, but the ice is still cold and barely broken. Poor Itadori, you think, Heâs talking to someone who doesnât know who to talk properly. Heâs going to get bored any minute but heâs still going to talk.Â
âLike, umâŚâ you think, âOh! I went to the Tanegashima space centre a while back.âÂ
âWoah!â he goes, with excitement in his eyes like fireworks sparkles, âWish I could go to space one day. Maybe itâll be like something in Passengers.â
Itâs only the space centre, though? Not space itself, you think. But you guess thatâs okayâ something, something, men are perfect when theyâre a little dumb. You donât know that much about idols. âI havenât seen it yet, but uh, sounds nice, I guess? And you donât look like the type to watch sci-fi movies⌠but maybe Iâll watch it one of these days. I donât watch a lot of movies, though.âÂ
âI mean, itâs got Jennifer Lawrence in it,â he says, âSheâs my favourite actress!âÂ
That makes a lot of sense. ââŚreally? Iâve only seen her in clips from the Hunger Games a few times. I mean, I heard sheâs had other pretty good movies, though, like⌠what was it called⌠Silver Linings something? I donât know, uhm.âÂ
âOh, Silver Linings Playbook?â he says, excitement dazzling in his eyes again, âMan, you havenât lived if you havenât seen them. Iâll drag you along with me sometime to watch it!âÂ
âAh,â you go, unsure of what to say, âUm⌠nice! Thanks!âÂ
Over the course of the next few months you learn a few things about Itadori Yuuji. He loves horror movies and Jennifer Lawrence with a passion, is a sterling athlete and freakishly good at sports, and has a smile that makes people turn to face him like sunflowers to bright summer sunlight. And he knows you tooâ knows that you mildly loathe all genres of nonfiction save for books about animals (especially dogs), that you prefer when things are busy even if you may enjoy the quiet, and that the two of you are people who really, really ought to just take a train to Tokyo and have kaiten sushi together one day.Â
Also, you can admit that you have some degree of a crush on himâ him and that damned smile. Seriously, how could anyone not? You watch him sometimes during PE, eyeing the way he moves, and that guy can move, alright: he swerves so naturally it makes you swoon, jumps up and down with might and energy, can carry people around like theyâre boxes of tissues. Heâs swift but his movements arenât frenetic; theyâre controlled and he demonstrates such mastery over his body that no one who sees him wouldnât be amazed. And heâs a nice guyâ your parents have met him at least twice by chance, and they love him. Your father talks about how heâs a nice, handsome boy, and your mother mentions how heâd be an ideal son-in-law.Â
Poor Itadori, you think to yourself whenever they say it, giggling, Maybe theyâll let up soon enough, and theyâll realise that youâre just a really good friend.Â
Youâre still not going to act on your feelings, though. You never will; youâre never going to act on anything. So youâll fade away like a spectator, only trying to talk to him because guess what? You like it, you like talking to him and spending time with him even if you know he doesnât like you back and sees you as just a friend. Heâs still a fun guy and he always will be.Â
In a way it feels almost liberating, like a breath of fresh air from what happened a year ago: lighthearted crushes like these are a quintessential element of the teenage girl experience, and even if youâd always fit the bill for an ordinary teenage girl, another part of that would probably be not feeling like a normal teenage girl at all. So having this and not being hurt, having this and having funâ is great. Maybe if you get over him and start crushing on someone else, youâll get to try having a boyfriend by the end of your last year in junior high. Sounds pretty neat if you do say so yourself. Having a partner sounds interesting.Â
âItadori. Um⌠theyâre going to release a new Jennifer Lawrence movie,â you say, standing behind him as the other friends around him stare at you. You arenât too close to them, but heyâ he was right. Some of them were pretty okay, cool people.Â
âAh, yeah! Iâm watching that too!âÂ
âOh, great! I mean, itâs right up your alley, right?âÂ
âYeah,â he says, âWanna watch it together?â You blush and he continues, âI can bring the other guys too.â He gestures to the boys behind him with his thumb. You donât know them very wellâ hell, they probably donât know your name much less like youâ but thatâs okay. Itadori is a great guy to spend time with and whether itâs scream-singing karaoke in a language you canât speak at his house, joking and horsing around while his grandfather frowns on the dining table, or learning how to cook meatballs he says are easy to makeâ youâre guaranteed to have fun with him no matter what.Â
âSure.âÂ
So: now you have a new guy youâre crushing on, because the last one took so long for you to get over, and youâre not sure if youâre completely over the last one, but you know youâre not going to talk to him that much anymore. And this new guyâs sweet, a hundred times better, and even if this all-in-one perfect guy doesnât like you back, youâll say it again: you think Itadori is awfully fun and nothing can change that.Â
Life is going pretty okay, you think. Life is becoming something youâre getting the hang of. Maybe, just maybe.Â
2-1-2017
âGuess Iâm going back, nowâŚâ you sigh, zipping your luggage bag up. Itâs a cold day outsideâ each time you press your fingers against a window, or even touch a door knob or any cold metal, it freezes you up. Itâs just inconvenient, for nowâ if you could, you could even use cell manipulation to keep yourself warm, but that would just be too much effort wasted on too little of a cold winter day in early January.Â
New Yearâs had just been a trip to the local shrine with themâ this time Tsumiki had to come too, so she didnât sabotage you and leave the two of you aloneâ and the days have gone by relatively peacefully. When your parents call you up theyâre always relieved to just see you sitting on the bed or seated on their dining table eating meals with the two of them.Â
âYouâve still a few hours left here, donât worry,â Tsumiki says, âLetâs make the most of it!âÂ
Despite how awkward things were, youâd say you enjoyed being with Megumi and Tsumiki the past few daysâ mainly Megumi, though, because Tsumikiâs been conveniently leaving anytime you and Megumi are about to go anywhere together.Â
âHas anything interesting happened lately? Any action?â she asks.Â
âPftâ no, not really. Havenât even given him the letterâŚâÂ
âAwâŚâ she starts, âItâs alright if you donât want to force yourself or anything, but I really think it would do him good to read it and that itâd do you even better if you passed it to him. He cares about you more than you think.âÂ
âUh-huh, thatâs good to know,â you say, âAt the very least, weâre friends, still. Iâll get over him eventuallyâ I mean, I think I already have, since Iâm not praying for him to be my boyfriend or something.âÂ
âOhâŚâ she goes, âWell, whatever it is, Iâm supporting you!â she smiles, patting you lightly on the head.Â
âThanks.âÂ
She leaves for something quick before Megumi arrives back, which you think does him good because he comes back with enough bruises and patches on his face to completely drive Tsumiki up the wall.Â
âWoahâ you okay?â You rush to him. âWhat happened?âÂ
He groans. He reminds you of a stray dog sometimes, really. Even more so now than before.Â
âS-sit down,â you say. He follows your instructions. âIâll try to heal you, donât worry.âÂ
Since you discovered you had your cursed technique, youâve only used it to heal others besides yourself once when you helped rid the cashier from the store of her bruises. Itâs been half a year since then, and youâre still getting used to using it on yourself. Still, you let him sit on the sofa anyway.Â
âYou probably shouldnât. I can handle this on my own. If you do this to yourself then youâll be over-exerting your body.âÂ
âIâll be fine, donât worry about me,â you chuckle, âLet me take care of you. And if I get a nosebleed or a headache, you can take care of me too. Heheh. Thatâs how things like this work, right? We take care of each other. So I can heal your wounds for you and you can take care of me if I get any of my cursed techniqueâs side-effects.âÂ
You place your hand on his face for your cursed energy to get to himâ youâd be able to do it without touching him, but the more the betterâ and you feel how his breath hitches when you do so. His skin is cold, and so very smooth, like the soft cotton blankets they have in their house. Slowly, you visualise his cells changing, shifting, until his skin looks pristine and good as new.Â
ââŚandâŚthere.âÂ
Then your nose bleeds. âAhâ hate it when this happens, honestly.âÂ
âSee? I told you not to strain yourself.â He gets up and places a tissue to your nose. âLean your head back. Please.âÂ
You follow his instructions as he did yours. âSo what happened?â you ask, only able to view either his face or the ceiling. âHowâd you get injured?âÂ
âNothing, just⌠I⌠got into a fight.âÂ
âWhâ a fight? Thatâs dangerous!â you frown, âWhat happened in the first place? Someone picked on you?âÂ
âNo, they were just picking on someone else. People like that shouldnât be able to trample on others.â
âSo what are you, the police?â you argue, âYou shouldnât hurt people, nor should you let them hurt you. Itâs bad for you, you know?âÂ
âThe basis of all kinds of human interaction isnât being kind,â he claims, âItâs avoiding violating someoneâs dignity, and I despise the people who ignore this rule just to make themselves feel powerful.âÂ
And that pisses you off a little. Because for all his sisterâs kindness and forgiving spirit, her brother cares less for being able to forgive others than for reading books until one AM in the morning or something along those lines.Â
The weather becomes that little bit colder and you go against him.Â
âWell, yeahâ I hate bullies too. Itâs just⌠ugh, whyâd you have to get yourself hurt over this? It really isnât good to have injuries. Whoâs to say anything life-threatening wonât happen? Itâs not like youâre invincible.âÂ
âI could say the same to you.âÂ
âOh, shut the fuck up, seriously,â you retort, âDo you fight often or something? You know, no matter how many times you come out unscathed, itâs not like youâll even be alive the next. What if these bullies arenât the worst and there are some gangsters or something who kill you one day?âÂ
âIn my school?â he goes.Â
âUh-huhâ and you seriously sound kinda self-righteous, too. I mean, who gives you the right to judge? Just donât be an asshole and youâll be fine, and itâs not like being an asshole to the assholes is gonna do anything.âÂ
âNo, I just canât handle people who step all over others.âÂ
âMe neither, but why canât you just be nice?â you go, âI donât know, what do boys do? Talk to each other, make friends or something. Forgive each other. Just be nice. Thatâs what I think the basis of human interaction is. Itâs helping people when you can, and stuff. Thatâs what the basis of life is, even.âÂ
âYou sound like Tsumiki.âÂ
âOh, well. Iâd rather take that as a compliment even if it wasnât intended to be by her own brother. I seriously used to think you were better than that, honestly. That sounds so emoâ âOh, the world isnât inherently kind and so we should be tolerable to each other at best and horrible to the ones who arenât tolerable at worst.â What a joke.âÂ
âSeriously?â he frowns, not raising his voice, but definitely angered, âYouâre worse, really. You and Tsumiki and that hypocritical sense of forgiveness. Itâs probably because you read too many fiction books last time.âÂ
âI canât believe Iâm taking that from an antisocial guy who reads boring-ass non-fiction all the time and beats middle school bullies up to act high and mighty over them. Youâre giving me secondhand embarrassment. You should be out with people our age buying sodas from vending machines or somethingâ jeez, youâre just a fucking kid. Just be nice and save people if you have the power toâ especially if you can do it without having to do things at your own expense. Thatâs the easiest way to do things in life. And who says you arenât a hypocrite too? You think youâre some kind of judge in court or somethingâ?â
ââYou have cell manipulation, right? So use your brain! Iâve already told you that itâs pointless to save people. Good people who are too merciful to bad people are just as disgusting as bad people too prideful over themselves.âÂ
âEwâ good and bad? What happened to just living life? Just live it, seriously, itâs not like everything can be split into two categories like that. You just sound soâ ughâ stop being so immatureâ!âÂ
âMegumi!â Tsumiki says when she opens the door. â[Name]! What happened? Did the two of you fight? Why were you fighting? Whatâ!âÂ
âNo, no! Just bickering over something small,â you tell her, âI had a nose bleed all of a sudden.âÂ
âTch. Something small?â Megumi scoffs.Â
âStop fighting, the two of you,â Tsumiki orders, her voice firm yet still soft and sweet.Â
The next few hours move painfully quietly.Â
3-1-2017
âIâm really sorry it had to be at midnight like this,â you say.Â
âNo, no, itâs fine!â Tsumiki grins, âWe wanted to come, anyway. We still have to give you a proper send-off.âÂ
You breathe in. ââŚokay. Iâll visit again, I promise. Maybe next year, but at a better time, okay?âÂ
âAlright, alright. Wellâ youâve got to go now,â Tsumiki says, hugging you. You hear her sniffling even though you canât see her face.Â
âOkay. Bye, Megumi. Bye, Tsumiki.âÂ
âBye, [Name]! Take care of your health, okay? We should stick together no matter what, the three of us.âÂ
Youâre still a little angry at Megumi. You havenât passed him the letter.Â
Youâll live. You hope you can, at least. Youâre better off not ending up with or confessing to a guy who thinks like he does.Â
Itâs for Tsumiki, you tell yourself. And it grounds you.Â
ââŚI will.âÂ
ââŚbye,â Megumi says, avoiding eye contact.Â
And as you get on the train and theyâre waving you off, you should have taken a picture, or a video, or something. Something to keep that moment in place. Thereâs Tsumikiâ smiley Tsumikiâ with her signature warm grin and the faintest of tears in her eyes, with her hand raised up to wave at you. Then Megumiâ frowny Megumiâ older and taller and angry at you.Â
You really should have kept things there, or apologised to her again for anything and everything, apologised to both of them for any trouble youâve caused them, or thanked them a trillion times over, but you didnât.Â
And you regret this forever. Because this is the last time you see Fushiguro Tsumiki, the girl who changed the trajectory of your life.Â
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 2: stasis
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chapter synopsis:
'So letâs just talk again, I guess. Letâs just exchange contacts and chat on the phone and talk about books. Iâve been reading a lot of books about dogs and Iâve so much to tell you. Nothing else has to happen or change; we can act like there was never a barrier between the two of us in the first place. I really miss you.
Letâs just be friends again.
Please?'
---
You're growing, your parents are getting older, and you and Megumi are drifting apart like old seams of clothes being torn the more they're used.
You also discover something new about yourselfâ leave it to your parents to explain it.
word count: ~8k; tws: mild âgoreâ that may not even count as gore (a really tiny wound)
2-4-2010
Itâs 2010Â and your teacher introduces you in front of a previously bustling class turned silent by her (and your) arrival. Thereâs the chill of spring entering from the slightly opened windows and into your nose and, as desks flank either of your sides before you scrounge for and reach an empty seat. When you sit down you can sense the light graze of spring wind settling itself on your tiny trembling lips and you feel like hiding under the table while your teacher erases your name, written in cloudy white chalk, from the blackboard.Â
When lunchtime barges in and your classmates sit on each othersâ tables or excitedly rummage through their backpacks, you mumble out unnoticed greetings, invitations for connection falling on deaf little ears. There are so many people here, too many for your liking, with voices that accumulate until they make a cacophony reaching the highest heights a tiny, packed classroom of kids can. Of course, theyâd start the year with their own friendsâ there wasnât much you could do to introduce yourself, anyway, when all of them were off to their own devices in friend groups they were in before the third grade.Â
In front of you: a girl with brown twintails and a flower hair clip sits on another girlâs dress, while another girl stands there with a cartoon-themed t-shirt layered over long sleeves; on your left: a boy flipping one of those flat, white erasers and playing them with his friends (you wonder if in terms of quality those erasers are actually good for school); on your right: a boy sitting with his head resting against his palms, sitting as if his chair is a hammock, and heâs talking to two other boys about something indiscernible that you probably know less than nothing about. All the way from across the classroom: a boy with the longest black eyelashes youâve seen, hunched over and engrossed in a book with a title that you donât know how to read the kanji of yet.Â
Itâs so loud and your senses feel inundated suddenly, like a tiny glass cup about to overflowâ so much to hear, so much to see. Your head and the way you think turns their laughter into wails drowning your ears in an inescapable ocean with the most torrential of currents. But you want to go home. You want to be with both your mum and dad again.Â
You eat from the bento your mother made for you, your hand holding the container up and drenched in cold sweat as you compress and close in on yourself. This new school and classroom is so very, very loud, relentlessly so, and Tokyo is not a pleasant place at all. Youâre sure you donât like it, that you want every chance to leave.Â
After school your mother takes you to the playground nearby, probably to placate you and shush your cries as you ramble on and on about how much you want to go back to your old school. You have her hand in a vice grip (or at least, you try to, but the strength of an eight-year-old who struggles on the monkey bars doesnât account for much) as she repeats that itâll just be for a year, and that if you really wanted to she would let you call them on the telephone later or give you a handphone of your own to talk to them once youâd got older. You wonder why she wouldnât just give you one now, though.Â
When the two of you reach the playground she says, no doubt exasperated but still enduring it at all from how the tone of her voice is, âSee, darling? Look at the slide! You love slides, donât you? See? Theyâve got swings too, even!â And with a face blotched with tears and hiccups rapidly spilling out of you, you waddle over to the park.Â
Thereâs a girl over there, by the swings, long brown hair pulled back into a pretty high ponytail, with an equally pretty white-collared navy blue dress. Probably around your age, or slightly olderâ she seems quite tall, too; has the friendliest-looking brown eyes youâve ever seen, those types of brown eyes a person has that make their eyes shine like gold when they smile or when the sunlight hits them; a red ribbon on her hair tie that matches the strawberry hue of her backpack.Â
Then a boy next to her, and this one you know: long, raven eyelashes that look even longer up-close; spiky hair sprouting out in all directions; green, green eyes that take you by force and bring you into reminisces of fields of grassy gardens in the summertime, pure viridian in his irises as they stare back at you, quiet and observant. The same boy hunching into his book earlier, probably a really smart kid, probably someone you want to make a new friend of if you ever knew just how to.Â
Were they siblings? Friends? You werenât sure, but tears were still running down your cheeks as you processed all that information and silently thought to yourself about them, these two strangers, these two kids who could be friends if not for your touch-me-not-plant-like shyness.Â
âHey, hey! Whyâre you crying? Are you okay?â the girl asks.Â
(And the rest was history, but youâd still like to tell it anyway.)Â
She heads over to you, her pleasant expression contorted into one rife with worry, and your mother smiles, letting out a relieved sigh. The girl pats your back and itâs the warmest touch youâve felt since you arrived in Tokyo, her hand feeling like home or your old bed from before you moved; you almost melt in it the same way ice cubes do in hot chocolate. âAw, itâs okay,â she coos, awfully gentle, managing this strangely comforting tone for a child your age or maybe just a year older, âYouâll be okay.âÂ
You start bawling again when she says that for a reason you canât tell yet; itâs just so comforting, the way she rubs strokes across your back with her palm and tells you itâs okay. It feels like a promise. It feels like sheâll keep it.Â
When everythingâs calmed down and you feel a bit light-headed from crying so much, and the hiccups have been smoothed over by longer, calmer and steadier breaths, she guides you to sit down on one of the swings, your hand in hers. âAre you okay now?â she questions. The boy seems slightly concerned, but perhaps too hesitant to communicate with you, instead seeming perfectly comfortable with watching you and following behind her, becoming the girlâs shadow.Â
âUh huh,â you sniffle. You still want to go home, though.Â
âThatâs good,â she smiles, and it really is pretty and pleasant. Her smile isnât just an ordinary one: itâs one of those smiles that gleam like the sun or candles flickering at midnight; itâs the type to have that glimmer in it, that twinkle in her brown, almond-hued eyes that solidifies itself in some comfortable nook or cranny in a personâs memories forever, the type that you can just think of when things arenât going well and suddenly you can tell yourself youâll be alright because somehow you now know you can. Because somehow that kind of smile grants people the ability to keep going.Â
âIâm Tsumiki,â she introduces herself, âAnd this is my little brother Megumi. Whatâs yours?âÂ
Tsumiki, you think to yourself, Tsumiki and Megumi. Tsumiki and Megumi. Theyâre nice names. First Tsumiki, with the âtsuââ produced by back of the teeth and the tip of the tongue, the ââmiââ carrying the voice over to the lips, the ââkiââ light and brisk with the back of the tongue and the roof of the mouth; second Megumi, ââmeââ, ââguââ and ââmiââ a quick ride from the lips to the tongue against the roof of the mouth and back, something soft and sweet and quick and quiet about the name.Â
â[Name],â you mumble, eyes moving all over the two of them indecisivelyâ maybe your mother was right when she tried to force the impeccably useful skill of using eye contact onto you for situations just like these, âTsumiki, Megumi, can⌠can we be friends?âÂ
âSure!âÂ
Tsumiki and Megumi, you think again, Friends.  Â
8-4-2010
It seems that, at his sisterâs behest, Megumi makes an effort to interact with you more or at least look out for you in schoolâ reluctantly, though, and thatâs how you know this must be Tsumikiâs doing. He doesnât talk to you between lessons, uttering not one word to you in class, but he does direct you to different places at school if you seem like you want to go somewhere, but are too scared to ask, leaving your anxious face as the only clue for others who take notice of you.Â
There was one time, before meeting Tsumiki and walking to the playground together with Megumi in tow and after a particularly riveting lesson from one of your favourite teachersâ a young woman with glasses and silky brown hair in a bobâ when youâd wanted to go to the library, yet didnât know how. In your mind you merely contemplated whether you should ask anyone you saw, or whether you should wait for the sake of keeping your mind at rest.Â
Once Megumi saw you, eyes wandering aimlessly outside an empty classroom as you tapped your foot louder than you thought you were, merely scowled.
âHey.âÂ
âHuh? O-oh, hello.âÂ
He sighed exasperatedly, almost too grumpy for an eight year oldâ âWhat is it? What do you need to find?âÂ
âT-the library,â you stammered, hands pulling the fabric of your clothes into tight fists, âItâs okay! Iâll find it myselfââÂ
Suddenly something pulled you forward, like a still-damp shirt on a clothing line, and he dragged you along. Your footsteps stumbled behind him until you matched his pace, his hand lightly squeezing your wrist as he continued to walk.Â
âWhaâ?âÂ
âIâm taking you there,â he said, âJust pay attention to the route.âÂ
âT-thank you,â you stuttered, unsure of what to say.Â
So you saw the way your footsteps echoed behind his, his right followed by your right and his left followed by your left. You followed him through the hallway, then down the stairs until it was you and him on the ground floor, and the cherry blossoms were raining down like snowflakes. You didnât see his face and he didnât turn back to face you until you arrived.Â
Back then you didnât know why that made you feel a little sad.Â
âWeâre here,â he signified with a finger pointed to the library door. You thanked him again and promptly entered through the large glass door, using all the force your limbs could muster, only to find out that the door being opened was a feat only accomplished by the force of your arms combined with his own, too. âWhat?â he asked pointedly after noticing your glances at him, âIâve to come along too.âÂ
And soon it became just that. In your own silly little tradition, youâd stand outside the classroom and wait for him at the end of the day, and the two of you would walk with zero words exchanged until you got to the library and picked out a book each. Youâve found that Megumi likes to read long-winded books about anything and everythingâ especially about animals; youâve learned that there exists no one who adores dogs and animals related to them except for himâ besides the same fantastical creatures and adventures that you enjoy reading about, with kanji on their covers that you canât read.Â
But heâs always the same every day: frowning and rolling his eyes at your anxiety-induced antics or your curiosity over what he reads. You donât think he actually means itâ he still does the same for you, spending time with you in the library every day, and even though he seems to huff whenever you peek at what heâs reading and ask him how to read the kanji in his books, heâll still teach you anyway. Itâs not like Tsumiki seems to know either. She still encourages the two of you to get along as if you donât know each other at all.Â
9-6-2010Â
The first and only time you see Megumi smile, you know it isnât intentional. As if it just slipped out of him on accident without him realising, because you know hundred per-cent, even at your age, that someone like Megumi would never smile on purpose.Â
It goes like this: the day before Tsumikiâs ninth birthday, Megumi approaches you after class before you go outside to wait for him.Â
These days you feel like youâre opening up so quickly, it makes you feel giddy at times. You stutter less, you can speak a little louder, and you can even read through texts in class when youâre called to without stumbling through and accidentally blabbering about whatever youâd read before.Â
âI donât think we should go to the library today,â he says.Â
âHuhâ why? I donât want to walk home on my ownâŚâÂ
âJust because we arenât going to the library doesnât mean that youâve to walk home alone,â he sighs, âI need you to come to our house. Weâve to prepare for Tsumikiâs birthday since sheâll be coming back later today.âÂ
â...â
âYou never asked when her birthday was?â he asks, his tone the embodiment of an audible facepalm.Â
You suppose you didnât, because you donât know, or perhaps youâve asked, been so absent-minded youâd forgotten what sheâd told you, and eventually forgot youâd even asked her in the first place.Â
â...oh, no!â you shudder, âTodayâs her birthday?!âÂ
He rolls his eyes. âItâs tomorrow. Itâs just that we should start preparing early if we want to keep it as a surprise for her.âÂ
âOhhâŚâÂ
â...so? Can you come along today and tomorrow?âÂ
You pause. Your mother would be fine, right? Sheâd probably ask how many adults there were, but then again, even if their benefactor wasnât there, sheâd met Tsumiki and Megumi at least once or twice. Even for children your age sheâd know that they were trustworthy enough, so it should be fine. Youâll just ask her the next day anyway. Sheâd probably let you be there.Â
âOf course!â you tell him.Â
The path to his house stretches over concrete sidewalks and compact alleys filled to the brim with storefront signs. Temperatures have started to rise, and your switching from knee-high socks and cardigans to t-shirts and socks that only reach your ankles have been an indicator of that. Summer has started to bring in its breezes which blow like whispers against your ear, leaving warmth crawling and blooming across your skin.Â
When you reach the crossing, your legs continue to carry you forward before you stop to check the traffic light, you crash against Megumiâs back.Â
ââgah!â Â
âHey!â he goes, âIt hasnât turned green yet! Be careful!âÂ
He pulls you forward by the hand until youâre by his right, and squeezes your hand. â...you should stay next to me instead of staying behind so that you can still see.âÂ
âYouâre not blocking me, though?âÂ
â...but itâs still better if youâre walking next to me instead.â He turns his head away from where you can still see his face. He looks like a sea urchin.Â
âOkay.âÂ
Hand in hand, the two of you cross the road right when the light changes from red to green. You donât let go of his hand, even when youâre turning to the left, or on a crossing again, or when youâre standing right in front of the door.Â
Youâre sure that if you would ask him why he hasnât let go of it, he would say that he was doing so deliberately just so you wouldnât get run over or lost, but youâre also worried that if you did, he would somehow realise that he hadnât let go of his hand all this time on accident. And you like holding his handâ itâs not like when youâre holding your motherâs, when suddenly her hand grows dead on you and you have to hold her sleeve or her arm instead, or when you used to hold your fatherâs and it would get unpleasantly sweaty. Itâs warm, and even if your palms must be balmy at this point you donât think either of you mind that in particular.Â
A part of you thinks it must be embarrassing for him to be holding a girlâs hand, especially with how being teased for being friends with boys is all too familiar for you. You were your fatherâs daughter, after all, and at times your father could be insufferable in that way, even over the phone calls you and your mother had recently had over him. For some reason, heâd be fine if you mentioned Tsumiki, but as soon as it was Megumi heâd giggle and talk about you being âso young and already having a boyfriend!â That saddened you more than it was supposed to, sometimes; it was as if he thought you couldnât have a boy as a friend without wanting to marry him when you were older.Â
But youâll be selfish. You donât really want to let go, because itâs not like youâve held a friend since more than a year ago, anyway. You keep his hand in yours and squeeze it every once in a while, feeling the warmth spread across the back of your hand and your fingertips.Â
He only lets go of your hand when you begin to bake the cake, and he flips the cookbook to a recipe for strawberry cake. Whenever you come across something in the recipe that you donât understand, heâs reading it for you straight away. He even knows how to decrease the amount of each ingredient that you use so the cake can come out to be just enough for everyone, and when youâre in awe of how smart he is, he just turns his head away somewhat bashfully and says heâs doing it according to the ratio. You donât even know what that is.Â
At the same time you make your own additions to the recipe based on what you know from your motherâ a little more vanilla extract, slightly less icing sugar so that it doesnât end up too sweet when paired with the cake. There isnât any strawberry extract in their house so you make do with just strawberry puree alone.Â
The sight of him wearing oven mitts and holding the cake mould as youâre opening an oven about the size of his torso must almost be comical. You shouldâve got parental supervision, but he seems fine, and you are too. Initially youâd offered to be the one placing the cake in the oven, but Megumi insisted on doing it when you tried to open it and immediately turned away after the heat of it rushed right before your face like a cat dumped in water.Â
For two eight year olds with limited baking experience, youâd say the cake turned out well, and that itâs amazing how none of you have any burns or have caused any accidents. Itâs warm when he takes it out and you leave it out to chill by the time Tsumiki is supposed to be coming back. You feel a bit guilty over leaving her alone, but you try to reign it in and tell yourself that this is a surprise for her, and that itâll only last for two days: this one and the next.Â
When itâs laid out on the table and the scent of it wafts through the air, thereâs a satisfied grin on his face. Youâre supposed to be taking the icing out of the fridge, know it must have been one that heâd shown on accident, because itâs there for just that one second, but the fact that it was there at all, even if he thinks that you probably wonât be able to see it, is something youâd never imagine.Â
And his smile, that grinâ it looked like one of those smiles that spread to the people around them like the scent of fresh flowers in a new vase. That smile was a bouquet of flowersÂ
With a spatula, the two of you take turns slathering the icing around the now less warm cake. It smells so sweet and tasty that you feel you wonât be able to sleep tonight from how excited you are for the celebration tomorrow.Â
âYay!â you say, clapping your hands when itâs all done, âWeâre done!âÂ
âNow we can just put it in a container in the fridge so that she wonât find it,â he says, âWe should put the tray back, though. We usually donât keep ours in the oven.âÂ
Maybe itâs because youâre sleepy from how much time youâve spent solely on baking in the last two hours, or maybe itâs because youâre absent-minded as usual, but your first response is to grab the still scalding hot tray from the oven.Â
You burn the tip of your finger before he can react and stop you.Â
âOw!â you wince.Â
âYou burned your hand?â he rushes to pull youâ he pulls you a lot, it seems- to the sink and runs your finger through lukewarm water before blowing it and chiding you. âBe careful!â he scolds, âEven if you canât help it sometimes you need to think before you do things. Donât act recklessly like that!â
âSorry,â you say. It didnât hurt that bad, though. What feels worse is how worried he is about this despite how aloof he typically seems. âIâm okay, though. Itâs just a small burn.âÂ
âItâs still a burn,â he shoots back.Â
ââŚsorry.âÂ
He keeps the oven open to release the heat from it, and places the cake in the container.Â
âYou know, Megumi,â you start, âYouâre really amazing.âÂ
He pauses for a while, but continues to place it in the container. You make a mental note to buy candles or get any leftovers from home if your mother allows it.Â
âAt first I thought you were scary, but after getting to know you for a while youâre a really nice person. You teach me even if Iâm probably really annoying or a bother sometimes, and on the street just now you let me hold your hand even if it must have been really embarrassing for you. And even when we were baking, when you did that number to number thing to tell how much of everything you neededâ youâre really smart, you know! And every time youâre with me, and even with other people, youâre really caring without saying it. So even if you seem scary or bad-tempered youâre actually really nice,â you smile, âYouâre really good! Every time youâre there I think: âMegumiâs really cool!â So I hope you can be my friend forever!âÂ
ââŚthanks.âÂ
He whispers something else that fails to fall on your ears.Â
âHm? Whatâd you say?âÂ
âNothing.âÂ
After Tsumiki arrives back, the three of you spend the evening watching TV together. Fortunately, summerâs waves of rain havenât started coming in yet, so the satellite wasnât messed up and the three of you got to watch them interrupted, huddled together on the sofa.Â
Your mother smiles that night when you tell her you were spending time with your friends, but grimaces once you tell her that it was just you and Megumi for a while. When she and you are on the phone with your father, she frowns even more.Â
You recount the details to him: the strawberry cake, the cartoons on the TV, the cosy compact couch they have in their house.Â
âSo it was just you and Megumi alone? Aw, youâre too young for dating, sweetie, you should be doing those things your daddy before you go around doing them boys! And with just him, too!â you think thatâs supposed to be a joke, but you feel offended regardless despite not knowing why. It could be because you donât like his teasing, or because you can make friends without the intent of marrying them, or because heâs insinuating that youâd rather watch TV and bake cakes with some boyfriend than with your own flesh and bloodâ you probably would prefer doing that with Megumi instead of him, though. Less annoying and way more fun.Â
âNo, no, no! We were just baking a cake for Tsumiki!âÂ
âOh, leave her alone, darling,â your mother says as if sighing knowingly, but the frown on her face indicates otherwise, âSheâs just a child, still, nothing will happen. Let our baby make some friends, wonât you?âÂ
You donât understand why theyâre saying anything theyâre saying, but you shrug it off and continue to talk to your father anyway.Â
Thankfully, the burn on your hand has disappeared, though. Youâre surprised it went away so speedily.Â
10-6-2010
Her birthday goes like this: there are decorations dangling from the ceiling of their house and a party hat on her head (courtesy of their benefactor and his âwork friendsâ), while their benefactor has a party horn squeezed tightly between his lips and a digital camera in his hands. Heâs invited some of his friends, too: a lady with brown hair, concerningly dark eyebrows and a mole by her right eye, and a tall, muscular man with blonde hair and a white suit donned who seems just as annoyed with the white-haired man as Megumi always is.Â
Theyâre singing her happy birthday, and sheâs over the moon. When they get to â...happy birthday, dear TsumikiâŚââ  the grin she has on her face is something for the ages: youâve never seen anyone look happier than she is right now. The candles flicker as she claps their hands, dancing along to the cacophony of voices singing even one of the simplest songs unsynchronised and out of tune, dancing along with it just because she seems to be on cloud nine.Â
Itâs dark outside, the yawn you let out gets you bleary-eyed and youâre quite sure all six of your voices combined sounds awful, but everything feels so unimaginably warm.Â
Itâs beautiful. The sight in front of you is pure joy.Â
âMake a wish, Tsumiki!â you tell her before she blows out the candles, and a faint line of smoke dissipates through the air right after the candles go out and everyoneâs clapping.Â
The tenth of June, 2010, Tsumikiâs ninth birthday is a great day, and one of the happiest days of your life. It stays that way forever.Â
30-6-2015Â
Your phone whines in your pocket like a crying baby. Thereâs a book shop you want to head to, and youâve decided that after that youâre going to let the bed mattress cradle you to sleep as youâll flip through some pages of that new shoujo manga you bought the other day. Youâve decided thatâs a swell plan for the day: youâll mostly be free today, after all. But you rush to pick up the phone, even though the ring had made your nerves spin giddily and switch courses from calmness to anticipation.Â
The screen displays an unknown contact.Â
Although your mother was always adamant on her stance on what you should do with unknown contacts buzzing your phone, you pick it up. You can only hope, yet the mere image of that âunknown contactâ icon on the screen fills you with joy.Â
âHello?â a voice calls from the line. Despite everything, these things will always belong to her and her onlyâ that voice, that smile, that beautiful kindness.Â
âTsumiki!âÂ
â[Name]!â Â
Missing loved ones from far away works in mysterious waysâ people know they miss them, but often people havenât a clue about what of them they missed or why they would have missed them so much for those things. And you were no exception to this, because you never realised how lovely her voice was or just how much you missed it.Â
You miss Megumiâs voice, tooâ or perhaps his tone when he spoke to you. Even if it sounded rough around the edges sometimes, really it was as gentle as he was. Youâre not sure if itâs changed, though, or if heâs grown a foot or two (though the latter would make him out to be really tall). The last time you saw him in person, he was slightly scrawny and around the same height you were, and that was four years ago when you were nine. Now heâs thirteen, and youâve seen the thirteen-year-olds in your school and on the island. Everyoneâs growing in one way or another. Even you.Â
Would he be taller now, towering over you, perhaps? Would he have grown out of how he was before, a body composed of long, skinny joints and bones? You think heâd be tall. You think heâd have a nice voice. And maybe, just maybe, if he was a little softer now, youâd have a crush on someone you thought youâd long got over.Â
âOh my godâ I havenât heard your voice in ages!âÂ
âMe neither! Never realised how much I missed talking to you in person. Well, I guess this brings us one step closer.â Â
You nod over the phone. The line seems to be lagging behind a little. âMhmâ
ââOh, itâs [Name]! Want to talk to herâ?âÂ
âAh! Is⌠is Megumi there, too?â You hope he is, you genuinely do.â
âIâm sorry, but he isnâtâŚâ Â
You guess it must have been someone else talking to her, then.Â
Butâ if it werenât someone else, why would he not want to talk to you? Of course, you have to believe that he wouldnât, but what if he wanted to avoid you?
Had you done anything wrong, said anything wrong in your letters and emails?Â
If youâd seen him again, would you do the same? Because itâs silly, really, how he was technically your âfirst loveâ before you realised it, but you admitted nothing, acted on nothing, trying to make fragile proof or something to stick it to your father in the way eight-year-old you thought you could. Youâd probably do the same now. Perhaps because of your age or your immaturity, youâre overly prideful in that sense, because telling people you love them is like cutting the skin off an onionâ itâs okay, though, youâre only thirteen. That happened years ago and you should probably just move on; you know you can. You donât have to act on anything and youâll keep things that way.Â
(You should probably stop being over in your head like this.)Â
At least now you know he isnât a bad father, never was; he was just a man in a world where they donât know girls can live without a constant desire for marriage or romance encroaching upon their conscience. And even for a man, he isnât so bad to his daughter, you think. Now, you know how to draw conclusions like that.Â
You donât really know anything. You donât really know anything at all. So you shove it aside, that overthinking, and talk to your friend like a normal thirteen-year-old.Â
And he probably doesnât care about you anymore, either. (But if he did, what caused him to stop? He was so caring so was it just you?â)Â
Itâs okay, you can live without him anyway.Â
âThat aside, how is everything?â Â
23-11-2010
âMegumi, I think we should exchange books,â you suggest as the two of you make the daily walk to the classroom. You catch up to him now, legs meeting his pace, not something he has to stop and turn behind to glance at before turning his head forward again. âMy mummy said it could help. She said itâs good if we read more books from other genres.â (You feel like patting yourself on the back for knowing how to use a word like âgenresâ.)Â
âWe like completely different books,â he says, âYouâd get bored really quickly with mine.âÂ
âI mean, if itâs something interesting, I wonât.â And even if you didnât know the kanji in them, youâd just ask him. â...when have I ever found the stuff you read boring?â you add, to prove a point.Â
âYesterday,â he states, âYou picked my book up, flipped one page over, then slid it to me over the table surface.âÂ
âBut that was because I couldnât read it!â you retort childishly, âIf I canât read it now, Iâll search it up, or Iâll ask you. If you donât mind.âÂ
âFine,â he acquiesces.
âAnd just so you know, the teacher said I was getting better at reading kanji, and I do think that the stuff you read is nice sometimes.âÂ
âSo, what book are you giving me?â he asks, trying to force the library door open on his own. You add your own weight to it as usual and soon the two of you are walking to the same corner you always do. In spite of the school libraryâs relatively small size, it was a treasure trove of fantasy and reality alike. Students at the high school nearby would go there just to study, and the sight of them hunched over the tables while snoring was one you witnessed every day.Â
âThe same one I finished reading yesterday,â you reply. That book became a favourite of yours. It entailed a young girl learning that she was actually a witch, and one of the adventures that followed that, namely one with a wizard who sheâd fallen in love with. Fortunately, your mother didnât know of the storyâ if your father was in the house and saw you reading it, heâd tease you endlessly. âIâll return it first, though. Then you can borrow it again. What about you? Whatâll you give me?âÂ
âA book about dogs.âÂ
âI should have expected that.âÂ
12-12-2015Â
âAre you that excited for Christmas, sweetie?â your father asks as you hang ornaments on the tree. Heâd assigned that task to you this year, saying neither he or your mother could bend their backs and legs so much anymore. And he was correct: they seemed to become weaker and more brittle with each year. Eye bags and wrinkles piled under his eyes like stacks of paper to the point that he had to quit doing work so often, and the number of times your mother had to go to the hospital in six months had gone from one to five. Theyâd started to talk about dying even if they were far from it in your eyes. Theyâd just need some medicine and a trip to the doctorâ theyâd be alright in the end like always. Right?Â
âMhm!â you answer jubilantly, âI think talking to Tsumiki again did me good, heh.âÂ
âIâm glad,â he smiles, walking over to you, âNeed any help?âÂ
âNo, Iâll be okayâ you should go and rest,â you advise him.Â
He shakes his head, âIâll be okay if itâs just for a while, you know that for me it usually isnât that bad. I can still do things like this as long as Iâm not tired.âÂ
âDaddy, your eye bags make you look like a panda.âÂ
âWow, okay,â he says, sarcastically, âCanât believe my baby girl doesnât love me anymore.âÂ
You drop one of them by accident and it falls pathetically, the glitter on it spreading across the floor. âWait, sorry, let me get that real quickââ
Although you rush to tell him not to, he bends down to retrieve it, and as he gets up he winces and has to support his back with once-strong hands. Heâs withering away, slipping like dust blown away from his old table back in your grandparentsâ house.Â
Youâre scrambling to help him up, to scrunch your brows in worry and ask if heâs okay, but because you forget to move your hand away, your elbow smacks against his head.Â
ââOw!â Â
âAck! Daddy, sorry, Daddy, are you okay?âÂ
âIâm fine. Are you okay, sweetie?âÂ
You feel yourself twist in guilt. How could you have ever felt annoyed by this man in the past?
22-12-2015
You donât know what brings you to do it. Maybe itâs the fact that itâs his birthday and youâve only been able to wish him via asking Tsumiki to send him your regards, or because youâre feeling sentimental and remembering Christmas five years ago in Tokyo, but you write a letter addressed to Fushiguro Megumi on a chilly Tuesday that you donât have the intent to send. Or maybe you just donât want to yet.Â
Dear Fushiguro Megumi, Â
I donât really know why Iâm writing this to you. Maybe Iâm desperate for some kind of romance so Iâm writing this to turn my thirteen year old self into a shoujo manga protagonist (I feel like youâd cringe at that, sorry). Â
But Iâll write it anyway. I really liked you but I didnât really notice itâ well, more like I didnât want to admit it. My dad was being a little annoying about it and that was probably young meâs way of giving him this big middle finger but I wonât really go into it. Heâs pretty okay about all of this now, and these days I can bear with him a little better too. (Hopefully thatâs how things are for you and your benefactor, tooâ he always seemed more like a father anyway, even if he was always there. Would that be too presumptuous of me to say?)Â
Still. I used to really, really like you. I donât know if I still would if I met you again, but hey. We should try it, meeting each other another time. I really want to see you again. Â
I still think you were really cool. I bet youâd still be so now. Taller, too. (More handsome if youâre fine with me saying that, but maybe that could just be attributed to being part and parcel of oneâs physical growth? Truly, I donât quite know.)Â Â
I know you probably never felt the same, but I thought I should just let you know. YOLO, am I right? Iâm, like, living life to the fullest with no regrets right now. Â
I know how much of a burden I was, how annoying I must have been. But I guess because of that I know how caring you can be. So Iâll always be thinking, âMegumi is really, really cool!â when Iâm reminded of you. Â
I donât know why you donât want to talk to me anymoreâ maybe youâve given up on me, and I get that. Whatever it is, though, I know it would be valid, even if sometimes the fact we stopped talking in the first place makes me feel a little hurt. Because I know itâs my fault too, since I was too scared then to talk to you. Â
So letâs just talk again, I guess. Letâs just exchange contacts and chat on the phone and talk about books. Iâve been reading a lot of books about dogs and Iâve so much to tell you. Nothing else has to happen or change; we can act like there was never a barrier between the two of us in the first place. I really miss you. Â
Letâs just be friends again. Â
Please? Â
28-12-2015
âWeâre not going to be here forever, you know,â your mother says as if sheâs about to drop dead at any moment. Sheâs not and you canât bring yourself to fathom it. So you wonât.Â
Your mother is amazingâ she cooked for you, comforted you, tried her best to raise you properly and lovingly even if she hadnât been herself. She made sure you never slept hungry and tried her best to make you think you were the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what others said, even if in the end she couldnât. She held your hand even if in the end you stopped clinging to hers as you grew. She did the chores even if her body was falling apart and deteriorating like yellow paper.Â
You donât think you could ever handle having to do that even if it was for your own children. You donât think you could ever be her.Â
It had always been a bit of a curse that your mother had you a little late. She said you were supposed to have an older sibling once, one that she couldnât carry to term. So thatâs why you were born, and born a bit later in their lives; thatâs why you were their cherished baby girl.Â
So you try, youâve been trying, to be of use. To be the medicine that ameliorates their headaches and backaches and joint pains. You help out with the chores even if you seldom talk to your mother these days; you listen as your father regales you about (mostly fake) stories from his youth if it helps him feel better. Because if not for you, your mother would have less wrinkles on her face; if not for you, your father would be less hellbent on working to provide for his family.Â
ââŚmhm.âÂ
âI think that you should know something, though. I just⌠I donât want to die, darling, but I think I will. So I feel like I should tell you this,â your mother begins, âHoney, letâs⌠letâs tell her about it.âÂ
Thereâs something eerily calm in the depressing air your father casts over himself as your mother says this.Â
âOkay,â your father agrees.Â
Your mother starts first, âDo you remember seeing that weird sunglasses-wearing, white-haired man?âÂ
âOh. The⌠the benefactor? What about him?âÂ
âWell, for starters, heâs not just some weird guy. That manâs name is Gojo Satoru,â she states, âHeâs a jujutsu sorcerer, like me.âÂ
âOh⌠okay, but⌠um. What? I thought you were a doctor. Are you two like Harry PotterâŚ?âÂ
âNo, weâreâ um, do you remember seeing that dog?âÂ
âThe one with the red markings?âÂ
âYes. The thing is, normal people canât see things like that dog. But people like you, your mother and I can,â your father explains.Â
âSo we have superpowers, or something?âÂ
Your mother smiles and she looks younger, happier. âSomething like that. Thereâs something called cursed energy and most people have it. Itâs formed from negative emotions, and the people who have more than the average person can see cursed spiritsâ the creatures manifested from leaked out and fermented cursed energy, who jujutsu sorcerers basically try to get rid of before they cause normal people who canât see them any harm. âOh, goodness, I feel like an encyclopaedia.âÂ
âSo the dog was a⌠âcursed spiritâ?â you wonder, âIt sounds like weâre in a shounen manga.âÂ
âNo, the dog was a shikigami.âÂ
âWaitâ those things are real?â Â
âBut it was your friend Megumi's shikigami, specifically. Some jujutsu sorcerers can summon simple shikigami. Those were ones generated from his cursed technique, though,â your father clarifies, âMost jujutsu sorcerers have cursed techniques, which is when they channel cursed energy into their own âpowersâ. People who donât have cursed techniques like your motherââÂ
âYouâre going like a bullet train. My brainâs getting pulverised. Please slow down,â you say, âSo he has a cursed technique, and mummy doesnât have one. Do I have one?âÂ
âThatâs what we were worried about,â he starts, âWhen you were born, neither of us wanted you to get into that life. So we moved to the countryside, specifically places with little to no cursed spirits. Then when you got older we figured we should just check if you could see them in general, but nothing happened except for when you saw that dog. We think youâre a window, though. Someone who isnât a jujutsu sorcerer, with no technique but the ability to see curses anyway.âÂ
âBut you think I do, now?âÂ
âNo. We just wanted you to know about all this. Iâm sorry we didnât tell you.âÂ
âNo, no, itâs fineâ nothing happened because of it. I just never knew, but I guess I do now. So you were a jujutsu sorcerer?âÂ
âHe was,â your mother answers, âTechnically, heâs already quit due to health complications. But your fatherâs been saving a lot, and itâs not like jujutsu sorcerers have a meagre payâŚâÂ
âWeâre rich?â Â
âI mean⌠the stronger ones are loaded, but we still have enough money to last us for a while without working,â your father says, âBut I have a cursed technique and so I was a sorcerer last time, so Iâd always be working away from home before I took the shinkansen back. The year you were in Tokyo, I was working with a team of other sorcerers to eliminate groups of curses spread all over Japan. Then when we found out you could see them, we just decided to go back to the countryside. But now we know we canât keep you out of the city foreverâ we know how much you love it, and we love our girl. So we needed to tell you about this.âÂ
Your mother sighs, âWeâre sorry again that we never told you any of this. We just wanted to keep you safe.âÂ
âOkay. Itâs okay, you donât have to apologise. I mean, I donât really want to die either, even if it means saving people and things like that. Thereâs probably other ways to save people. Plus Iâm probably a window like what you and daddy said.âÂ
âThank goodness,â your father smiles, âIâve lived through it and⌠well, Daddy doesnât want that either.âÂ
âNeither do I,â your mother says.Â
You donât want to be a jujutsu sorcerer. The thought of people walking into that world, of children being born into it, of people like your father, kind people walking to death every day.Â
You think it must be the ones in powerâ they donât seem to care; how could they if theyâd just let fates like that befall your father?Â
And Megumi, Megumiâ Megumi, the guy you havenât talked to in years, walked into it. He sought to protect you first; told you there were monsters and warned you to be careful.Â
Just how much of a burden were you then? Â
Thatâs the first thought that crosses your mind. Because thereâs never been a time you werenât a burden, not to your friends and never to your family, and thinking that Fushiguro Megumi would care anymore, for you, was beyond reality.Â
20-12-2015
Your fatherâs cursed technique is called cell manipulation.Â
âItâs a pain to use, but Iâd say itâs always been quite powerful,â he explains on one of the days heâs teaching you about the jujutsu world, âLike the name says, I can control cells. But I have to imagine things really vividly, down to a cellular level, and put lots of cursed energy into picturing how exactly you want the cells to shift and change.âÂ
âSo⌠just the cells? Can you do anything more than that?âÂ
âJust the cells,â he says, âAt least, thatâs what I think. But I suppose that makes it liable to entities who have cells that can go against my cursed technique, or can control their own bodies at a subcellular level. Who knows, reallyâŚâ Thereâs a hint of sadness underneath his tone.Â
âDâyou think youâll ever use it again, then?âÂ
âMaybe. But Iâm definitely not planning to,â he tells you, saying it with conviction thatâs stark against that soft, weary voice he has so often nowadays, âI donât want you to use it either. Iâve never wanted you to have it. If you did, everyone would be telling you to walk into death willingly, every single day. Everyone would ask you to be useful. Iâve already told you so many times that I donât want that for you. I can still do some simple things with minimal effort, though. Want me to show you?âÂ
You donât understand why heâd have make himself âusefulââ heâs always been, heâs your father after all. He doesnât have to do anything else, doesnât have to prove anything to add meaning or worth to his existence. Truthfully the one who has to be useful is you; you have to be a better daughter, a more helpful one; you have to be a better friend and a better person.Â
You smile, âOkay. But just a little.âÂ
He holds out his hand, displaying his palm. Itâs slightly wrinkled, littered with old calluses like mildew on leaves that you never knew the true stories behind. Sights such as these remind you of his age, who heâs speeding to fifty before he may even see you reach your twenties. âYou see how my handâs like this, right?âÂ
You nod your head.Â
âSo, what I can do is imagineââ he starts, closing his eyes, âAnd this happens.â Thereâs a rift thatâs forming slowly in his hands like the land giving way to sprouting volcanoes, before scarlet blood is pouring out of his hand.Â
âGah! No, no, itâs okay, you donât have to show me any moreâ!âÂ
The wound closes up and he opens his eyes once more. âSee? Good as new,â he grins, âItâs much harder when itâs not used against humans, though. You donât always know the cell structure of other cursed spirits, so they have to be studied like Pokemon. And if those cursed spirits arenât the same,â he goes, immediately turning grim again, âYouâll have to use it on yourself. That means that every time you use it, one mistake could cost your entire life.â Â
You canât imagine it: that for years when you were living carefreely, thinking your father was off at a hospital or a clinic, spending his time examining tongues with popsicles or holding stethoscopes to chests and stomachsâ he was, in truth, risking his life; about to be the cause of his death at any moment. And for what? For money? To save othersâ lives? For you? Â
The notion itself is terrifying.Â
âThen I think weâre the same,â you say, âBecause I donât want you using that either.âÂ
1-4-2016Â
The last time you and Megumi uttered a single word to each other was five years ago.Â
You havenât talked to Megumi in a long time, but you call Tsumiki whenever either of you are available. That about sums things up. But every once in a while you and Tsumikiâ just Tsumikiâ hold your phones next to your heads as you chat and gossip about your days and the people and events in them, crossing your legs as youâre sitting on the bed or doing chores as you secure the phone between your shoulder and ear.Â
Last year youâd learned a few things: school eats away at your life like a parasitic fungus, youâre someone who can see monsters that rarely even live where you do anyway, and that even if youâve finally the maturity to admit that you may have loved someone, you wonât act on anything if youâre sure what youâll face is either rejection or anything but reciprocation.Â
At least you can still live your life. At least your parents are still here, thank goodness.Â
âTsumiki, Iâm serious. âÂ
âBut I really think you should! You canât just tell me that and expect me not to react like this!â Â
âHonestly, TsumikiâŚâ you start, âI havenât talked to Megumi in years. I canât just. Ask him to talk to me again, you know.âÂ
âStill, you said you liked him! Megumi! My little brother! And he said he wouldnât mind seeing you again, too!â Â
âI donât know, I just. I felt silly so I thought of telling you. If you told him now it wouldnât change anything. And I think heâs avoiding me. I think heâs been avoiding me for a while.âÂ
âI know, but⌠sometimes when he does this to other people, it doesnât mean he doesnât want to talk to them. Heâs just⌠whatâs the word, emotionally constipated? Heâs like that.â Â
She sounds so excited over the phone.Â
âIâll just pass that old letter to him and nothing will happen. Then Iâll live my life peacefully and I probably wonât ever see him again.âÂ
â...I honestly think that if you did that heâd just try to find you again.â Â
Yeah, right, you think to yourself.
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aaa!! thank you so much, everyone! ćĺĺč´˘ and happy valentineâs day!! â¤ď¸
I set this blog up about a while ago (?) to practise my writing :DD. back then I thought it would get very little engagement since I knew I wouldnât be able to write much and the style of my writing would be a bit childish (?â I was about 13 when I started writing here?). so now even though I know itâs not much compared to other blogs who write really really well, Iâm quite happy ^_^âŚ
⥠thank you again, everyone! âĄ
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