#gege i swear you better not be playing me

[tojiscrack]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

summary: 12.1k words — you attend jujutsu high’s saturday football game on time, but arrive unintentionally late to another event, which spurs more consequences than you initially imagined

notes: it’s extremely late as i type this up (nearly 4am) but i wanted to get this one out asap for my two talented artists @kickingcat and @azr3na ! <3 you guys have made writing this story so much more enjoyable knowing that i have some AWESOME art to check out every once in a while, and it motivates me to write better quality work 🤧 for that, this chapter is dedicated to the both of you! tysm for ur hard work, it truly shows in the quality of your drawing! <3

tw: swearing, mentions of infidelity and cheating, demons, rituals, mentions of brutal murder, i think that’s all lol

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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the late saturday afternoon sun beamed brightly over jujutsu high's football field, casting long shadows across the trimmed grass.

the stands were packed with spectators, a sea of navy blue with pops of lighter blue from the cheer squad's uniforms, which shimmered with metallic accents under the sunlight. the players, clad in their dark blue jerseys with gold trim, huddled on the sidelines, their helmets glinting. you could spot players number one and two — yuji and megumi — from where you were positioned with satoru, who had you held up over his shoulders to showcase the large poster you and nobara had spent hours decorating; she was currently lined up with the rest of the cheerleaders on the track, pom-poms shaking in time to a peppy chant, while the faint scent of hot dogs and popcorn wafted from the concession stands.

on the opposing side, ridgeview high prepared for battle. their colours (a striking crimson and white) stood out against the green field as their players jogged through last-minute warm-ups, their jerseys spotless and sharp. similarly, their cheerleaders wore matching crimson skirts with white trim, their coordinated cheers echoing across the field as they tried to rival the noise from you and your peers on the stands.

the game had begun with ridgeview high immediately showing you why they were team you should be worried about, their offence tearing through jujutsu high's defence with precision passes and swift runs. by the end of the first quarter, ridgeview had been leading by two touchdowns, their crimson-and-gold-clad players celebrating wildly under the late morning sun.

panda, your school mascot that had been part of nobara's cheerleading group at the front, had let out a roar of disappointment. you raised your brows at the sound — he truly was yaga's son.

"they bulldozed us," you commented, your arms growing tired from holding up your pink, sparkly poster. you held it to your chest as coach yaga called back the team for a pep talk: he did not look pleased. "it's gonna be so embarrassing if we lose. i was talking so much smack to one of their players on twitter."

"we're not gonna lose," satoru reassured you from below, patting your thigh as though your worries weren't rational. "but if — we won't, obviously — but on the very rare occasion that we do, we know who to blame."

you nodded. "player number two."

"exactly! player number t— wait that's megumi," satoru frowned, throwing his head back so he could look up at you. you thought he looked odd upside down.

"mhm," you hummed, waiting for the next play to commence. "it's his fault 'cause... 'cause i say so."

"nah, that's a shitty reason," said satoru, looking back at the field where the players were preparing to commence the second play. "it's only okay if i say so — don't pull my hair, ow!"

you had given him a firm tug, fed up with his antics as he shook your hand off his head, causing you to sway slightly on his shoulders. you quickly regained your balance, gripping his head tightly.

"stop squirming," you muttered, giving him another light thump, to which he groaned but didn't retaliate. instead, he tilted his chin up defiantly.

"as i was saying," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact, as though explaining the newton's law, "it's not megumi's fault when you really pay attention to player nine's form."

you looked around, brows furrowed.

"player nine?" you repeated lowly, searching for the number on each jersey. the players had begun to disperse, but you spotted nine next to seven, his arm extended to pat his friend.

you frowned, confused when the realisation of who was beneath the helmet had clicked to you.

"that's kamo," you spoke aloud, both to yourself and to satoru, who let out a low whistle below you.

"yeah?" he responded, before lowering his voice down to a level where you were certain that if you had not been sitting propped up on his shoulders, you would have missed it. "unsurprising."

you pulled down your poster to hit his face, his immediate reaction to become frantic, risking you falling off.

"stop!" you demanded, panicked.

"your fault for being smart enough to pick a fight with the same person who's holding you up."

he wasn't wrong there, you accepted to yourself silently.

the game restarted with renewed energy, and you and satoru had started loudly cheering for both megumi and yuji, your voices blending with the collective roar of the crowd. you continued to wave your pink, sparkly poster energetically above your head, waiting for megumi to catch sight of it, for it had been tailored to specifically piss him off.

midway through the quarter, the ball was in yuji's possession, who skilfully dodged two ridgeview defenders with quick footwork. he spotted megumi sprinting downfield, and with a perfectly timed pass, the ball soared through the air. megumi leaped, catching it cleanly despite pressure from a ridgeview line-backer. and with incredible focus, he charged forwards, weaving through the defence, and managed to cross the goal line just before being tackled.

all at once, the crowd erupted as the referee signalled a touchdown, jujutsu high having finally closed the gap in the score. you and satoru cheered wildly, his excitement nearly knocking you off balance on his shoulders.

from the middle of the celebratory huddle, megumi's gaze wandered upwards, begrudgingly enduring the pats and slaps on his back from his ecstatic teammates. his expression (though difficult to see very well from where you were) was one of mild irritation, his posture stiff among the jubilant chaos.

you tried not to laugh.

he hated hugging, especially when it came from people he was not particularly close with, and anyone could tell. he did not do much to hide his distaste, after all.

as his eyes drifted above the sea of helmets, they landed on you and satoru in the stands, and when his expression had become stonier than it was during the hug attacks from his fellow teammates, you knew he spotted the poster.

amid the sea of sparkly pink glitter, obnoxiously bold bubble letters read "YUJI AND MEGUMI <3" in a mix of hot pink and light pink, glimmering in the sunlight. the glaring issue, however, had been the centrepiece: a photo of him, clearly edited, showing a toothy, radiant smile he had never once produced in real life.

you'd used a face app since he never smiled.

yuji's face was on the other side of the poster, but you'd made sure to decorate his side normally. after all, his picture had remained unedited due to the fact that he knew how to smile.

the over-the-top embellishments, featuring musa from winx club and draculaura from monster high, made the megumi's side of the poster even more ridiculous.

you laughed when he took his helmet off to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, though his teammates mistook his reaction for post-touchdown exhaustion.

"woohoo! porcupine!" you cheered supportively.

he only slammed his helmet back on his head and turned away, returning to the game with more drive in his steps.

"sir!" someone from behind you called out loudly. "mr gojo! we can't — we can't see! you're in the way —"

"you'll get over it," satoru called back cheerfully.

the game had eventually ended with jujutsu high sealing a victory in the final moments. the cheerleaders' blue pom-poms shimmered in the afternoon sun as the football team huddled together in celebration, and you had realised with ringing ears, how you'd never heard such loud cheers erupt from the stands the way that they had that saturday afternoon.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the room was chaos.

sukuna moved like a predator, his every step deliberate, his grin wide and mocking as he toyed with nobara. still, in her anger, she lunged at him, fist raised, her ferocity unshaken despite the bruises already darkening her skin. each of her attacks had been met with infuriating ease, sukuna parrying her strikes with casual movements that radiated his overwhelming strength. it was clear she was losing — her breaths were ragged, her stance faltering, but she pressed on regardless.

megumi was holding his sprained ankle, trying to find a way to stand on it that didn't feel like his entire leg was going to give.

every instinct told him to intervene, to distract sukuna long enough to pull nobara out of his reach, but doing so would be futile anyway, for his ankle had been annoyingly holding him back.

he gritted his teeth, glancing at the time on his phone.

you weren't here.

you had promised you'd come.

despite your tutoring session with kamo, you'd insisted that you wouldn't miss this. but now, with sukuna wreaking havoc and nobara barely holding her own, your absence stung, and megumi bitterly wondered to himself...

were you running late? or had you decided that turning up just wasn't worth the trouble?

his fingers tightened into fists. he didn't have time to dwell on your absence, yet it still lingered at the back of his mind like a haunting ghost, sour.

sukuna laughed for the nth time within the same hour — a cruel, echoing sound — as he knocked nobara's hairclips (which she'd been using to fight, somehow) out of her grip, sending her sprawling. megumi cursed under his breath, standing on his injured foot and pulling nobara back by her shoulder, putting himself between her and the demon possessing his friend's face.

"why do you keep coming back every twenty-ninth like we summoned you?" he demanded angrily, scowling when sukuna tore through another one of yuji's hoodies. this was getting really annoying.

"because you did summon me, megumi fushiguro!" sukuna roared back, his expression manic as he swung at megumi, his nails elongated to try and poke at his eye. megumi was pulled back by nobara's quick reaction time. "you summoned me once, now i'll return every month on the same day!"

"where's y/n?" megumi asked nobara, his head tilted slightly so he could glance at both sukuna and nobara at the same time. "she should be here by now —"

"i killed her!"

megumi and nobara exchanged a glance at sukuna's words, their reactions starkly contrasting. nobara's face flickered with confusion, her brows knitting together as if trying to decide whether sukuna was being serious or merely taunting them — it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

meanwhile, megumi's lip curled in pure disgust, his sharp glare piercing through sukuna's smug grin. the idea of you being dead — especially as an offhand joke — churned something bitter in his stomach, but he knew better than to react, for sukuna thrived on eliciting emotion, and megumi wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

it was a stupid thing to say anyway. megumi did not like dramatics unless it came from you.

"is that... even possible?" nobara began, sounding uncertain.

"no," said megumi, brows furrowed, "obviousl—"

"— how would you know?" sukuna snapped, suddenly dropping to the floor to grip at megumi's injured ankle. megumi let out a hiss of pain as he kicked him off, but it had not been an easy feat, for sukuna's grip was iron-tight. "i ripped her body apart!"

nobara and megumi both worked simultaneously to take sukuna away from megumi's foot, but he was too strong.

"she said she's running a little late but she'll be here!" nobara hurriedly explained to the injured male, pulling at yuji's — sukuna's — hair.

he did not like that, choosing to release megumi's ankle in favour of jumping at nobara's neck.

"the library's not too far from here —" megumi snapped, throwing his arms over sukuna's shoulders from behind and pulling him away from nobara, holding him against his chest as hard as he could, "— hold and tie his arms — it shouldn't take her this long to — shit — get here!"

sukuna laughed menacingly. "she is in her tomb —"

"she — didn't — explain!" nobara said through heaved breaths; sukuna had been making it difficult to grab at his arms, swinging them back and forth with clenched fists, attempting to punch her away.

megumi let out a pained grunt, trying to shift his weight on his other foot. "well text her again —"

nobara widened her eyes at him, her pupils darting from sukuna to megumi to the mess made out of the room.

"— how?"

"SHE IS DEA—"

nobara karate chopped at sukuna's head, apparently having had enough of his constant interference with her conversation.

"can you speak when you are SPOKEN TO?"

furious with her attack at him, he roughly shrugged megumi off his back and immediately grabbed nobara's hair, pulling it harshly so she'd fallen to her knees before him.

"how dare you?" he began, contorting yuji's friendly brows into something more menacing. "this is where you belong, woman. at my f—" he stopped himself, looking over his shoulder at the sound of megumi's clumsy footsteps closing in on him. he immediately spun around and wrapped his hands around megumi's neck, tightening them to cut off his airways. nobara sprung into action immediately, trying to ease the iron-tight grip the demon had on her friend.

"what the he—"

"let go of him — oh my god —"

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS ONE MENTIONING THE OTHER BRAT!" sukuna stated stormily, eyes glinting a dangerous red. megumi could see the extra sets of eyes blinking back at him as he choked for breath. it was not a pleasant sight. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHERE SHE IS? HOW ABOUT I LET YOU JOIN HER —"

"she's not dead!" nobara argued indignantly, her face growing pale at the vulnerability of megumi's state, "and would you get your disgusting claws off him?"

megumi's annoyance towards you burned in the back of his mind, barely tempered by his dwindling focus on survival.

you should've been here by now — how much longer was a simple tutoring session supposed to last? controlling sukuna was already a monumental challenge with three people; with only him and nobara, it felt like a hopeless endeavour, for the demon was too strong, too fast, and far too unpredictable. if you had been present, your support could have made all the difference...

or so he angrily justified to himself, as sukuna's nails bit deeper into his neck.

suddenly, the demon's grip loosened, and megumi had stumbled backwards, gasping for air.

but his reprieve hadn't been born of any mercy; it was a deliberate, mocking act.

sukuna had simply grown bored and wanted a new target.

with a sinister laugh, he threw megumi to the ground like a discarded rag doll before turning his attention to nobara, his lips curling into a gleeful sneer, his red eyes narrowing dangerously as he advanced towards her.

"why are you looking at me like that?" asked nobara, and while it might have sounded like she was being fierce and angry, megumi could sense the underlying fear in her voice.

"famous last words," sukuna teased, and megumi could have sworn he'd seen the tattoos on his body move in excitement.

but before anyone could say or do anything, sukuna's ears had wiggled, almost like demon dog's when he spotted satoru's expensive dog treats.

then, his head spun to glance at the door, which was now opened to make room for you, panting and wide-eyed, one hand holding onto the knob, the other closed around the spare key yuji had given you the night before.

your gaze swept over the chaotic scene: the dishevelled nobara, the bruised and gasping megumi on the ground, and sukuna's imposing form towering over them. the blood drained from your face as you locked eyes with the demon, his sinister grin widening like a predator spotting new prey.

"finally!" sukuna hissed, his voice dripping with venomous delight. his head tilted unnaturally, the extra eyes on his face narrowing with malevolent excitement. "the stupid chatterbox is here!"

"lock the door!" nobara ordered you as sukuna sprinted in your direction.

you slammed the door shut behind you with a resounding bang, shoving the key into the lock with practiced precision, and just as sukuna's body crashed against it with a deafening thud, you deftly sidestepped to avoid the impact, letting out a sigh of relief at how he had narrowly missed you.

with a swift twist of the key, the lock clicked into place just in time, and you tossed the key at nobara with wide eyes.

sukuna let out a loud howl of frustration. "you haven't even been here a minute and you are already such a NUISANCE!"

"i didn't even do anything — woah!"

megumi had speedily scrambled to his wobbly feet to pull you away from the danger that was sukuna by your shoulders. your back had met the wall harshly, making you let out a gasp of something in between pain and stupor, brows furrowed at his eerily cold expression.

it seemed that you were not aware of just how much wreckage sukuna could cause with one less person.

"where were you?" megumi asked, as sukuna made an attempt to rip the doorknob off; nobara had reached up and pulled his hair so he was stumbling backwards away from the door.

"the library —"

"— for that long?"

the crease between your brows had started to deepen as you blinked up at him.

"i never said i'd make it on time," you responded, as he stepped back and looked over his shoulder to see if nobara was in any danger; she had everything handled. "i told you i'd be late," you added, eyes widening as you pushed past him to help nobara with sukuna, but megumi had let out a pained grunt, making you stop in your tracks and eye him carefully. "are you okay?"

"fine," he said, failing to hide his limp.

you looked between nobara, sukuna, megumi, and the rest of the mess around the room, blinking confusedly.

"all of this happened 'cause i was gone for a bit?" you marvelled, shocked.

"can barely survive with three of us," nobara huffed over sukuna's loud threats, throwing the key that sukuna had been actively trying to retrieve over to megumi, who caught it with ease. "he nearly escaped six times with just megumi and i! shit, help me!"

you sprung into action, throwing your school bag aside to pull sukuna away from nobara.

"why is he shirtless again?" you said, squeaking when he shoved you away, stumbling into megumi by accident.

"how dare you touch me with your female fingers —"

"okay i'm sorry oh my god!" you cried, hands going up to shield your face from his onslaught of punches, but this action had done nothing to hide the level of pain that had shot up every area he targeted. "ow — stop!"

the room descended into more chaos as sukuna launched into a furious assault. his movements were wild yet calculated, his strikes unrelenting as he aimed to incapacitate everyone in the room.

he had decided to lunged at you first, his nails raking through the air as you ducked just in time, tripping backwards into megumi once again, but this time, megumi had instinctively shoved you aside to take sukuna's punch directly. he had stumbled as a result, but remained upright, apparently determined to shield you and nobara from further harm.

nobara, meanwhile, had grabbed the nearest object — a chair, for the sharpest objects had been wisely taken out of the room for everyone's safety — and swung it with all her strength at sukuna's back. the impact had barely fazed him, but it gave you just enough time to grab a textbook from your bag and hurl it at his head; the book smacked him squarely in the face, and he growled, red eyes glowing with rage.

"really, woman?" sukuna snarled, wiping his face with yuji's arm. "a book?"

he picked it up and tore it in front of your eyes, grinning grimly at your expression.

the book was a hardback.

"hey, kento lent that to me!" you complained angrily, before quickly scrambling out of reach as he advanced again, reminding yourself that you were talking to a demon.

nobara tackled him from the side, trying to pin his arms, but he effortlessly shrugged her off, sending her crashing into the desk.

megumi, visibly struggling, grabbed a metal ruler and jabbed it at sukuna's ribs, drawing a rare wince of discomfort.

"get the rope!" he barked at you, and you immediately darted to the corner of the room, pulling out the frayed cord you'd used before to subdue yuji when he'd started acting erratically.

the three of you worked in frantic synchronisation, trying to dodge sukuna's attacks and pull the rope taut around him whenever an opening appeared. nobara distracted him by tossing books and binders from your bag in his path, while you and megumi spent the time looping the rope around his torso.

sukuna's strength had been overwhelming, but each loop of the rope restricted his movements a little more, and you had managed to tie a final knot with shaking hands, backing away as he thrashed against his bindings.

for a moment, silence fell, save for sukuna's heavy breathing and the sound of everyone else gasping for air. then, with a sinister smirk, he chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"you think this will hold me?"

"let's hope so," megumi muttered, leaning against the wall, his ankle burning, "because i'm out of ideas."

in the brief moments the three of you used to catch your breath, the respite proved to be tragically short-lived...

sukuna, his muscles rippling with unrestrained malice, had managed to tear through the ropes with almost insulting ease. the frayed ends of the cord fell to the ground as he stood there, grinning like a wolf savouring its cornered prey, rolling his shoulders as though loosening the tension in his body.

"since you're all so determined to waste my time," he sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement, "why don't we take a little trip down memory lane? after all, it's only fitting to reminisce before you all meet your end." his voice lowered into a chilling purr. "let's relive our first encounter, shall we?"

"what does that mean?" you began slowly.

he did not clarify...

and with that, sukuna's movements became terrifyingly calculated.

in a matter of minutes, he recreated the chaotic tableau from the day he had first terrorised your group: you found yourself yanked by the arm and hoisted up onto the curtain rail, your body dangling precariously as the flimsy structure groaned under your weight. nobara was shoved to the ground, her hair a wild, tangled mess as she clutched her arm, a fresh scrape bleeding through her torn sleeve. and megumi, breathing heavily with one hand braced on the wall, was forced to limp to the side, his injured ankle trembling under the strain.

sukuna stood amidst the wreckage, laughing with unrestrained glee at his handiwork, savouring the helplessness etched into each of your faces.

right, he thought to himself, watching the room and remembering the exact position he'd been in several months ago in february. this is what he meant...

his eyed had met sukuna's, and the demon's patience wore thin.

"where's the key?" he demanded, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

megumi felt for it in his pocket of his pants, but defiantly refused to give it up, his silence very obviously fuelling sukuna's frustration. with a growl of annoyance, the demon's lips curled into a sinister grin, and he made a split-second decision.

if words wouldn't pry the information from megumi, brute force would suffice, apparently, for he marched to the door and, with a single powerful strike, shattered the doorknob entirely.

megumi knew it was too late, and so did you, for he heard you groan from the ceiling.

"oh my god..."

the door had creaked open, but before sukuna could take a triumphant step into freedom, he stopped short.

his confidence wavered for the first time as his gaze met the person standing in the doorway.

it wasn't choso, as it had been during everyone's first encounter...

it was satoru.

megumi had never been so pleased to see the tall man, not that he'd ever tell him that.

he looked amused, his own grin widening as sukuna's faltered, and for a moment, the room held its collective breath.

and then he spoke:

"what, you're a gangster now, yuji?"

sukuna's expression twisted in disdain the instant satoru referred to him as yuji.

his lip curled, baring teeth in a snarl as he raised a fist, ready to strike, but before the blow could connect, satoru had moved with lightning speed, effortlessly grabbing sukuna's wrist and twisting his arm behind his back in one fluid motion. you could barely register what was going on from where you were hung, viewing the world from an upside down lens, but you caught how satoru, with a well-placed foot, swept sukuna's legs from under, sending him crashing to the floor with a resounding thud that made the entire room tremble.

"heh, that's sick! — i got your text, y/n," he grinned as he ignored sukuna's furious growl beneath him and straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve with an air of exaggerated nonchalance.

his attention turned to nobara.

and a laugh erupted from him, loud and unrestrained, as his eyes took in her disheveled state.

"but i guess i'm a little late," he declared with delighted amusement, eyes sparkling as nobara swatted her wild hair in annoyance, "i've never seen you this ugly."

he helped her up despite his teasing, her eyes widening as she glanced at sukuna, who was speeding towards the open door.

"the door!" she yelled, but satoru's long legs were proven to be convenient, slamming the door shut before he grabbed sukuna by the shoulder and forced him backwards.

"gonna have to do an exorcism," he explained all the while, pulling out a small, plain, and black book from the wide pocket of his large jacket.

at that, sukuna's roar filled the room, a feral, deafening sound that reverberated through the walls like thunder.

"AN EXORCISM?" he laughed, his back against the lower wall. it seemed that the mesh of yuji's and sukuna's strength was no match for satoru's adult strength, which made sense, as sukuna did not have full control over yuji as of now. you thanked the lord silently. "I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!"

yet satoru moved through it as if his bellows were the soothing hum of a lullaby, steps measured and unhurried; his eyes, sharp with amusement and calm confidence, flicked to you, still dangling precariously from the curtain rod like a forgotten puppet.

he looked even more like an idiot to you upside-down.

but you would tell him that after you got his help.

with an effortless grace that betrayed his strength, he reached up and steadied you, his hands firm but careful as he eased you down.

"upsie daisy!" he said, as the world spun right-side up again the second your feet had touched the floor.

you slumped against the wall with exhaustion, the blood that had rushed to your head moving back down again.

but you could not rest there for long, for satoru had swiftly ushered everyone out of the room with a wave of his hand. nobara had stormed ahead, muttering about how this should have been handled earlier, while you followed, glancing nervously over your shoulder.

was it safe for satoru to be left alone with the demon, who was now eyeing nobara as she began closing the distance between herself and the door?

megumi had lagged behind, wincing with every step, which did not go amiss by satoru, who tilted his head slightly to meet his eye.

"i'll drive you to shoko's, yeah?" he asked, his tone gentler but still carrying a teasing lilt.

but megumi shook his head firmly, refusing the offer as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"i'm fine," he said, and that was how the three of you found yourselves lingering outside yuji's door, leaning against the wall as tension hung heavy in the air.

from within, the sounds of sukuna's fury erupted.

a guttural roar rattled the walls, followed by a sinister, bone-chilling laugh that sent a shiver down your spine. there were loud thuds and crashes as if furniture was being flung across the room, and knowing sukuna, there was absolutely a chance that that was exactly what had been going on behind the door, each sound punctuated by the sharp crack of splintering wood.

amidst the chaos, sukuna's mocking snarls could be heard over satoru's carefree chuckles, his taunting voice carrying effortlessly through the door.

"that all you got?" satoru teased, his words dripping with amused arrogance. "i was expecting more — hah! nearly got me there! — the way she described you."

another earth-shaking bang followed, sukuna roaring in frustration while satoru continued to laugh, as calm and amused as if he were playing a game instead of exorcising a feral demon.

the three of you exchanged concerned looks with one another.

"he's gonna get himself killed, teasing sukuna like that," nobara muttered, leaning against the wall opposite the door in the dark hallway.

"he's survived worse," you responded, moving your head away from the door with a flinch at the sudden bang that had followed.

nobara raised a brow. "like?"

"toji —"

"watch it," megumi growled from below without missing a beat; he had been sitting against the wall, a hand on his injured ankle.

the three of you waited in silence, the sounds of sukuna's threats, satoru's chuckles, and every other bang and crash that followed filling the space like white noise.

you glanced down at your friend's ankle, lips pursed.

"is it sprained?" you asked carefully.

he didn't look up when he replied.

"don't know," he shrugged, his tone clipped. "it's fine."

there was a short pause.

bang!

BANG!

megumi scowled. "how come you were late?"

the weight of megumi's question settled heavily in your chest, sharp and pointed, like a blade that hadn't quite drawn blood but hovered threateningly close.

he wasn't being harsh — not exactly — but there was something probing about his tone, and the way his eyes flickered to yours at your silence, dark and expectant, made it feel more like an inquiry than casual conversation.

you couldn't blame him.

sukuna's near-escape had been catastrophic enough, and now megumi was injured because you hadn't been there on time. still, the timing of the question prickled at you, as though he were peeling back layers you hadn't offered to reveal, and for a fleeting moment, a sense of guilt tangled with unease tightened in your throat.

"the bus was delayed," you answered honestly, "so i texted satoru."

the way megumi's glance had intensified was almost comical. "you thought he'd come on time?" he asked.

"no, but he was better than anyone else," you said, pressing your ear to the door again and remaining unsurprised when sukuna had let out an excited laugh.

"if maki didn't have wushu practice right now, we could've called her," said nobara, who was now standing by the hallway mirror and flattening down her hair to make it appear less dishevelled. "she'd give sukuna a good run for his money."

"you should visit shoko," you suggested, looking down at megumi with raised brows. your ear was still pressed against the door, but it was eerily silent now. you frowned. "she can patch you up," you added wisely.

megumi shook his head. "she'll also ask questions."

he had a good point.

the silence behind the door stretched, unnervingly still. you could hear the occasional creak of floorboards, but no sounds of sukuna's chaotic laughter or the clash of any furniture that had been so familiar only moments ago.

it was almost as if the battle behind the wall separating you from him and satoru had never happened, leaving behind a heavy stillness that made your skin crawl.

frowning, you glanced at the others, noticing they were all waiting with bated breath for some sign from the other side, but nothing came...

not a peep, not a whisper, just that oppressive quiet.

suddenly, the door had swung open, and the faintest scuffling noise echoed in the hallway. you had instinctively taken a step back, eyes widening as satoru reappeared, a half-conscious yuji draped over his shoulder like a ragdoll, his limbs limp and face pale. the sight alone was enough to send a wave of unease through you: you hadn't realized how much you'd been holding your breath until now.

"all right, everyone, move it," satoru called out, his voice as casual as ever. "car's outside and— stop looking so worried! ijichi's not here! c'mon now."

his tone brooked no argument, and you all instinctively began to shuffle towards the exit.

nobara, ever the sceptic, gave a sharp look at the limp form of yuji. "why's he coming with us? can't he just stay in his room and sleep it off?"

satoru's expression was serious for a fraction of a second before his usual smirk returned. "just in case sukuna decides to pop back in for round two," he replied, his words matter-of-fact but laced with an edge that made it clear the situation was far from over.

he pulled out his car keys and clicked it with a smile. "better safe than sorry."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"you're basically saying i should die."

"i never said that."

"but you're implying it."

"how?"

"making me sit next to him."

the car hummed softly as satoru drove you all through the quiet streets, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, the other tapping rhythmically against the window frame. nobara sat beside him in the front passenger seat, her elbow propped up against the door, head tilted towards the window as she basked in her victory of claiming shotgun without competition from yuji, who laid unconscious in the backseat, slumped against you, his head resting heavily on your shoulder as his soft snores filled the cramped space.

sandwiched between him and megumi, you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him while still trying to find a comfortable position for yourself, but it was difficult, knowing that there was a possibility that sukuna could open his eyes at any moment and lunge for your throat.

you were, after all, the one he hated most.

on your other side, megumi sat stiffly, staring out of his own window with a distant expression. the occasional glances he'd cast towards you and yuji  were starting to irritate you: if the way his brows would furrow slightly whenever yuji shifted in his sleep meant anything, then he should have swapped seats with you the second satoru placed yuji on the seat behind nobara.

as your argument with megumi ebbed and flowed, each sharp remark from him met with an equally cutting retort from you, nobara, blissfully detached from the chaos behind her, busied herself with exploring the various compartments in satoru's car. she gleefully unearthed a collection of canned sodas, neatly stored candies, and small bottles of fresh water, shooting the man driving beside her a dirty look at how well organised everything was.

"impressed?" he grinned, a dimple on his right cheek.

"don't get ahead of yourself," she sniffed, annoyed at the way he shrugged, looking pleased with himself.

"stop yelling at me," you had been saying from the back, eyes narrowed at megumi's cold expression, "'cause you're gonna wake him up! and then he's gonna come for me first! what then, huh? you're just gonna sit there and let that happen?"

megumi eyed the canned sodas and shot you a deadpanned look.

"you've got it handled," he said, and at your confused, furrowed brows, he elaborated. "i'll help you out."

he undid his seatbelt and leaned over you, extending an arm in between satoru and nobara to grab a water bottle and retreat, presenting it to you with a bland face.

your gaze hardened.

he felt the need to continue.

"you can drown him with your mermaid powers—"

"i know what you meant!" you snapped, angrily smacking the water bottle out of his hand.

"he's not waking up for hours, y/n," satoru called out loudly, shooting you a glance before keeping his eyes on the road. "stop worrying."

"easy for you to say," you shot back, pinching megumi's thigh as hard as you possibly could. he hissed and peeled your fingers off. "you're not sitting next to him!" your eyes widened suddenly. "wait... what if after you've dropped us all off, he comes back and strangles you from behind?"

satoru laughed at that.

"careful," he chortled, "it might sound like you're worried about me."

"only 'cause if he gets you, he's coming for me next," you scowled, brows furrowed.

the man driving the car met your eyes through the wide mirror. he hadn't put his glasses back on yet, so you could see every bit of amusement dancing around his blue irises.

"don't concern yourself with that. i got it handled," he answered at last, and despite his carefree tone, you still found yourself falling into a pit of worry, head first. "so! you four have no idea who ryomen sukuna is?"

"we know who he is," said nobara, and she maintained a dramatic pause before continuing. "a demon."

satoru shook his head. "that's not what i meant."

the girl in the passenger seat shot him an exasperated glance.

"look him up," satoru added, offering no other thoughts or help except that.

nobara, alert in the front seat, began scrolling through her phone with a determined focus following satoru's suggestion. for a moment, it seemed that nothing had come up, and that satoru was simply messing with the rest of you for fun.

but it was her gasp that made both you and megumi sit up straighter in alert.

"what?" megumi demanded, watching as you leaned forwards to push your front through the gap between satoru and nobara, and then raising your brows in realisation when yuji dropped onto your seat in your absence.

you hurried back and lifted him up again, letting him rest on you with a frightened frown.

"what did you find?" you asked her urgently, your voice low as yuji shifted in his sleep.

"ryomen sukuna..." nobara read out, her brows knitted together as she read about his origins, "was a fearsome demon figure said to have terrorised villages during japan's heian period. known for his monstrous strength and sadistic tendencies, sukuna was infamous for his brutal acts of violence, particularly against women and children. eyewitness accounts described him as a towering figure with crimson eyes, tattoos that writhed across his body, and an insatiable hunger for destruction."

you gulped. "sounds just like him..."

an unsettling silence filled the car, thick and heavy like a fog. the only sound that reached your ears was the low, haunting whistle of the wind as it brushed against the moving vehicle.

"is that it?" said satoru, who sounded disappointed.

"no..." nobara muttered, before heeding the hand satoru had kept on the wheel that gestured at her to continue. "a particularly gruesome aspect of sukuna's legend revolves around his penchant for mutilating women and consuming children. these horrific acts were carried out with the aid of an accomplice: u— u— ura... uraume, a mysterious and cold figure who served as sukuna's cook. stories claim that uraume prepared the remains of sukuna's victims into meals, feeding the demon's appetite for chaos and cementing their role in his legacy of terror."

"wait," you began, brows contorted in fear. it didn't help that every snore yuji let out triggered the memory of sukuna's roar in your mind. "that's the name he used when we first used the ouija board."

"keep going," megumi added icily.

"while some dismiss these accounts as exaggerated folklore, others believe that sukuna was not merely a tale to scare children, but a real and malevolent force that thrived on fear and destruction, leaving a legacy that endures in whispered myths to this day... what the fuck?"

nobara's hands trembled slightly as she lowered the phone, her expression an unsettling mix of irritation and unease. she glanced at satoru, her brows furrowed in a scowl.

"you really had to make me look that up, didn't you?" she snapped, though her voice was tinged with a nervous edge. despite her tough facade, it was clear the vivid descriptions had unsettled her.

you couldn't blame her. only a psycho would he unfazed with what you had just heard.

but satoru only chuckled lightly, one hand still on the wheel.

"oh, come on. you're the ones who decided to play with a ouija board," he said with a lopsided grin. "i'm just saying, if you're going to mess around with stuff like that, at least don't act surprised when you wake up a demon older than the concept of personal hygiene." he gestured vaguely, his tone only half-serious. "rule number one: don't poke the supernatural bear. rule number two: if you do poke it, don't be surprised when it growls."

"this one doesn't growl," you shivered, feeling uneasy. "it roars."

"everyone else gets something less terrifying once, maybe twice," nobara groaned, tucking the strands of her short hair behind her ear. "but the one time we mess around with the board, we end up summoning ryomen sukuna — professional cannibal!"

"eh, not surprising," satoru shrugged, looking way too unbothered with how terrified everyone else seemed in the car. "what? the east asian population in this town is large, specifically japanese people. you don't think that didn't have something to do with the fact that you summoned a demon that originated from japan of all places? even your high school used to specialise in jujutsu."

"why'd they stop?" you asked curiously.

"cultural diversity," satoru answered easily.

"hey," megumi had voiced firmly, his voice cutting across the tense conversation.

satoru's eyes had flitted to his through the mirror, brow raised expectantly.

"you okay, megumi?"

as they continued to converse, you glanced down at yuji and listened to the soft breaths he let out, shuffling uncomfortably. your lips in a straight line, you brushed his hair out of his eyes in disgust. if the fear of sukuna being behind those closed lids hadn't been looming over you, you would not have put up such a fuss: yuji was a peaceful sleeper.

"i don't want you to tell my mom about this," said megumi, his brows knitted together in annoyed certainty.

satoru hummed, looking all too pleased with himself. "you asking me for a favour?" he responded, sounding both smug and curious at the same time.

there was a slight pause, the sounds of yuji's quiet snores and the movement of vehicles outside of the one you had been sitting in filled the space.

"yes," said megumi, and when you turned to glance at him, you found that he looked quite serious (more so than usual).

satoru's smile stretched wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned back in his seat.

"a special request from my precious student?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery. at megumi's scowl, satoru's grin only grew, his usual confidence turning into something almost mischievous, as if he'd just caught megumi in a rare, vulnerable moment, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested a certain pride in knowing that megumi had some form of trust in him — albeit reluctantly. "consider it done! my lips are sealed. you're gonna have to come up with a story for that ankle though."

nobara sat up as satoru had begun entering her neighbourhood.

"ugh, my mom too," she said, sounding desperate. "she probably wouldn't believe you anyway, but she'd find a way to try and get 'compensation' for my non-existent 'trauma' or something... you know how she is..."

you did know how nobara's mom was: a nice woman, who cared deeply about her daughters, but had a hunger for money that even toji could not compete with.

and satoru knew that like no one else...

"yeah, you've got nothing to worry about, i'm not going anywhere near that woman," he grumbled, before shooting the girl sitting next to him with a glance that was meant to be apologetic, but looked like anything but. "no offence, nobara."

"none taken," she sighed, for all of you knew how her mother would shamelessly flirt with the white-haired male for his money. it was both amusing and disgusting to watch (satoru found it horrifying, even if he did seem flattered the first time around).

then, his eyes flicked to you in the rearview mirror, catching your gaze with a certain glint of amusement. he studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curled into a smirk and he shifted in his seat, clearly enjoying the unease he was about to stir like the man-child he was.

"you're not gonna ask me to keep it from m/n?"

you stared at him, deadpanned. "she literally would not care."

"fair point," he nodded. "what about your dad?"

"the signal in antarctica is bad," you responded easily. "and also, don't stress that man out. he already has to deal with angry polar bears."

there was a challenge in satoru's gaze, as if he found amusement in seeing how you'd react, how you'd handle the weight of being almost blackmailed by him.

"didn't know you were such a snitch," you commented sourly. "well... snitches get stitches."

"you're gonna need stitches with that mark on your forehead," said satoru, and your hand had instinctively reached up to rub at your head where sukuna had hit you.

"it's fine 'cause megumi's gonna snitch me up."

"no i won't."

"what the hell, porcupine?"

"let me get this straight," satoru interrupted, preventing another round of arguments between you and the grumpy boy sitting next to you, "you kids have been dealing with ryomen sukuna for an entire year and didn't think to tell anyone?"

"how was that conversation meant to go?" said nobara, before her voice raised an octave as she continued. "'hey, mrs itadori! we need help 'cause your son gets possessed by an ancient demon every month on the twenty-ninth and has the literal potential to kill anything in its vicinity!' i mean, who would believe us?"

satoru gawked. "me!"

"yeah..." she said, looking exhausted, "that's not a good thing..."

satoru continued as though he hadn't heard her. "you guys messed around with a ouija board, but i'm the reckless one."

"i have a headache," you groaned, rubbing your temple with a pained expression.

megumi glanced down at his injured ankle, wincing slightly as he flexed it before settling into a frown. his gaze shifted towards you, a scowl forming on his face as though silently reminding you that he had the worse end of this ordeal.

he shifted uncomfortably, clearly still irked about your late arrival and the chaos it had unleashed, not that he planned on voicing that at all.

"that's karma for all those people you lied to about evil entities," said megumi, watching as you sneered at him.

"that was different though!" you declared heatedly. it wasn't like those people from kindergarten would even remember that anyway.

satoru looked back at the both of you as he eased the car into a smooth stop outside nobara's house, a compact, modern two-story home with clean, angular lines and a white-and-grey facade. a narrow path of neatly arranged stone tiles led from the sidewalk to a red-painted front door, framed by simple black lanterns. potted plants flanked the entrance, adding a small touch of warmth to the otherwise minimalistic exterior, while a lone bicycle leaned against the side of the porch. it was nobara's, you silently noticed.

"why was that different?" satoru asked curiously.

you had pulled megumi's ear for his response:

"sukuna hates her."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi found himself seated before his mother in the living room, her figure covering the television behind her, arms folded over her chest.

"you injured your ankle," she began, kind eyes narrowed in suspicion, "by being slammed into during football?"

megumi nodded.

you weren't around, so it would be easier to keep up the act without worrying about pinching your side and silencing you when your lies went too far.

she did not look convinced; megumi remained unsurprised at that. she had always been harder to fool than his father, and called it a sixth sense that, according to her, all mothers had.

"megumi," she sighed, brows contorted in concern. it made him feel bad for lying, but also reminded himself of the fact that she'd be overwhelmed in fit of worry if she ever knew the true reason his ankle had ended up swollen. "this is the, what, third time this has happened now? was it by... what's his name...? todo? was it him?"

it obviously wasn't, but megumi believed that to be a good excuse to go with.

he nodded again; she sighed again.

"the first and second time, i can understand, accidents happen," she said, replacing the bag of peas that she'd kept on megumi's ankle (perched on the coffee table) with another frozen set. the first had become warm now. "but a third time? i'm starting to think he has it out for you."

that wouldn't be against the truth at all, megumi mentally decided to himself with furrowed brows.

he watched as she handled the bag of warm peas with a pout pulling at her lips. it had been times like these that he wished she wasn't so concerned all the time, for it would make lying a whole lot easier.

"can i watch tv now?" he asked, sounding a little more dismissive than he initially intended.

she raised her brows at him.

"you're making a face, megumi," she responded, easily avoiding the question.

megumi had made a move to frown, but found that he had already been doing it.

he silently cursed himself.

"i'm not," he mumbled, averting his gaze and trying to get a good glance at the ice hockey game playing behind her. she only moved her head where his eyes went, pressing.

"you are," she said, smiling. "if y/n was here, she'd agree. ah, where is she anyway? i feel like it's been years since i've seen you two in the same room."

"friday —"

"aside from friday dinners," she cut across him with a raised brow.

without meaning to, he found his face mindlessly deepening his default scowl. he immediately softened his expression, but it had been too late, she'd already spotted it.

"there it is!" she pointed at him, accusatory. "what's got my son in a mood?"

megumi tried his hardest to maintain a neutral expression, but it proved to be more difficult than he expected.

her eyes never did not leave his face as she crossed the short distance between them, watching as he tensed immediately, the scowl slipping away into something more guarded, more composed, as though retreating behind an invisible wall of indifference would make her retreat too.

but she didn't.

instead, she crouched beside him, her hand resting gently on his knee, warm even through the fabric of his jeans. her touch was soft but unrelenting, and the concern in her gaze felt heavier now.

"i'm always like this," he said quietly, she had to lean closer to hear him.

"you've lived under my roof for sixteen years," she responded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. he shook her hand off with an exasperated exhale. "i think i'd know when you're acting different... except for that time that you stole a rabbit even though you know i'm allergic —"

"— mom —" he grumbled.

"— and in my defence, i trusted my son," she continued as though she hadn't heard him, her smile still present. "why are you grumpy?"

"i'm not —"

"do you want me to call your dad?"

he scowled, and this time, he did not try to hide it, for the threat was enough to get him talking. it wasn't the fear of toji being called on him, it was the fact that he did not want to have a heart-to-heart with that man out of anyone.

he'd even prefer satoru to him when it came down to therapy sessions.

his mom pursed her lips at him, her expression grave. "did y/n frame you for disturbing mrs daphne's tea party again?"

"no," said megumi, cringing at the memory. he had still yet to get you back for that — the old ladies at the tea party had slandered his name for things he hadn't even thought of doing. "it's not that."

"but it's something to do with her, isn't it?" she pressed with a gentle smile. and at the way he peered back at her, she went on to explain herself. "you made that cute angry face when i asked where she's been."

"how can someone be cute and angry?"

"you'll know when you have kids of your own —"

"mom."

"i'm only joking, megumi," she said, as she took her hand off his knee and placed it beneath her chin, waiting for him to answer her.

he looked away, jaw clenched as he stared at the far corner of the room, anywhere but at her face, hoping she wouldn't wait for his answer, but he knew her... he knew that she would do exactly that.

megumi let out a slow, frustrated breath, the weight of her patient, unwavering gaze pressing down on him like a vice. he clenched his fists for a moment, the tension winding tight in his shoulders before he felt it unravel in resignation. there was no escaping her persistence — not when she had already pieced together more than he was willing to admit. she would wait him out, as always, and the battle of wills would inevitably end with him surrendering, he could tell.

reluctantly, he eased the tight set of his jaw and prepared to give in, knowing there was no point in dragging it out any longer:

"we're both really busy," he admitted, abashed. he was also simultaneously trying to find a way to explain his problem without revealing too much about how your absence had indirectly caused such trouble with sukuna. "i see yuji and nobara in classes. or in between classes. but not — stop staring at me — not y/n."

she hummed. "she lives right across from us," she reminded him thoughtfully. "why don't you go over there now?"

"don't want to right now," he shrugged, and even though, to an outsider, it would sound like he didn't want to see you out of spite, he knew that his mom knew what he meant: you'd just seen each other, both of you had still got mountains of homework to complete. "i'd get distracted. we still have a lot of school work to complete. she has to rehearse her lines for her next play."

he did not mention how you were spending more time with an outsider nowadays than with him. after all, that wasn't what bothered him that much.

it was more about the fact that said person was supposedly interested in his sister, but was spotted with you every other day.

or, that was what megumi had kept replaying like a mantra in his head. he wasn't too sure whether he had successfully convinced himself yet.

"a little time apart doesn't mean anything, megumi," his mom laughed, her voice soothing as he peered back at her expectantly. perhaps her advice was necessary. perhaps he ought to listen. "that time she showed me your timetables at the beginning of the school year, i wasn't worried in the slightest."

megumi remained silent as she went on, for he was starting to really pay attention to her.

"you guys have — what was it? — english together?"

"math," he corrected, trying not to sound bitter, but it must have seeped into his voice because she chuckled as she went on.

"math," she nodded, smiling again. "only math, right? ... you two have remained friends, best friends — don't make that face, you silly boy, you know it's true — you two have been best friends since you were in kindergarten! not many people can say the same, you know? your friendship won't end just because you spend less time in class together."

he knew that, he had concluded to himself. he knew that that wasn't his concern.

how could he figure out what he was so annoyed about if he was unable to fully communicate the whole truth with sukuna, your lateness, etc?

he'd have to tiptoe around the topic.

"what's on your mind?" she asked, and he cursed himself for making his discomfort so obvious.

"you're saying everything would still be the same," he started slowly, unsure whether he'd regret where he was going with this if he completed his sentence, "even if we're friends with other people."

his mother's gaze softened, but her expression remained unreadable, the kind of calm that always left him unsure whether he'd stepped too far or not far enough.

she studied him quietly, her eyes searching his face as though piecing together a puzzle only she could see. the silence stretched just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably, his fingers tapping restlessly against the arm of the couch.

before finally...

she nodded, a slow, thoughtful motion, her lips pressing together in a way that felt both understanding and reserved.

"exactly," she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "she makes friends with everyone. she's friends with the... dark-haired child... the one with the side bangs —"

"the emo kid," said megumi, blunt. "malakai."

"megumi," she said firmly, her tone scolding but not unkind. "but yes, him. and don't you go around calling him that."

she smiled at him then, her eyes crinkling warmly at the corners as she leaned back into the couch. her relaxed posture made him feel slightly less on edge, though a flicker of grumpiness still lingered within him, but it was tame, nothing like it had been earlier back at yuji's.

megumi noticed the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, the way her face always seemed to soften when she looked at him. the familiar scent of her jasmine tea filled the space between them, calming in a way that made him feel understood even when words failed.

"smile, megumi," she teased, her voice light and coaxing, but he remained stubbornly impassive, his lips refusing to budge.

she sighed playfully, shaking her head before leaning forwards again, her fingers curling into a mischievous grin.

with another soft chuckle, she placed her pointer fingers on each corner of his mouth, gently tugging his cheeks upwards.

"there you go," she murmured, her grin matching the exaggerated one she had crafted on his face. "see? it's not so bad, you should do it more often!"

he let out a resigned sigh, his eyes half-lidded, but beneath his feigned annoyance, a trace of warmth began to settle in his chest.

her eyes had grown distant, gazing at something behind him. it was when she'd removed her fingers from his face, did he know what — or rather, who — she'd been staring at.

"toji, why are you just standing there?" she asked, her tone playful.

megumi didn't need to turn his head to know his father was simply lingering. when it came to his mother, there was a rare stillness in his posture — a quiet reverence — as if he were gazing at a masterpiece, a painting too precious to touch.

"he doesn't know how to smile because of you," she jokingly accused him, standing up, "so you need to smile too!"

toji averted his gaze, silently unwilling.

she shook her head at him, raising her arms to present her pointer fingers.

"i'll make you smile," she warned him.

"run, dad," megumi grumpily muttered from where he was seated on the couch.

the older man turned away with furrowed brows.

"don't gotta tell me twice," megumi heard him grumble, followed by his mother's rhythmic laughter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

there were many things mrs fushiguro had seen in the short time she'd been married to toji for.

she'd seen him yell (never at her), she'd seen him fight (never with her), and she'd seen him curse (never to her).

but she had never seen him in such a fit of rage, that he could only fold his muscly arms over his chest and resort to a quiet stillness, choosing tense tranquility over violence.

although, the way his jaw clenched had said otherwise.

she sat on the arm of the long couch as he stared down the lineup that started with a scowling suguru, a frowning satoru, a glaring megumi, and a blissfully unaware you.

honestly, she thought this was a bit much. you and megumi were barely even seven. so what if you had blindly followed the older two in believing that toji was cheating on her? you were kids. being influenced by older people was natural.

apologies were necessary, she understood that much, but lining each of you up with apology letters like you were part of some military?

that was a lot.

toji started off with the young man who had his hair in a dishevelled man-bun. dishevelled, for toji had shaken both him and his best friend till she had stepped in to stop him.

"go," her husband demanded.

suguru was halfway between rolling his eyes before he caught the sharp glare the buff man before him sent.

"i'm sorry for accusing you of cheating on your wife," he said, looking down at his lined sheet of paper with exhaustion. he then looked up and began improving. "and i also apologise on behalf of the people whose apology letters won't be any good —"

"dude," satoru interrupted, looking offended. the sight only made her smile, especially when her eyes moved down the line and you and megumi had been sporting the exact same expression, the three of you collectively staring at suguru in disgust. "the hell are you implying?"

"you apology letter is literally blank, satoru —"

"— i like to improv!"

"shut up!" toji snapped, taking everyone by surprise. "both o' you." he glanced at suguru with narrowed eyes. "whatever, you're done, monkey."

megumi's mom found herself watching with interest as suguru gritted his teeth. she still did not understand what the hatred for monkeys was about.

"you —" toji continued, glaring at satoru, who was scratching the back of his neck, looking confused. "you're next."

this would be interesting...

she watched as satoru cleared his throat with theatrical flair, holding up his paper as if preparing for a grand speech. he scanned the page, squinting at god-knows-what, seeing as she (and everyone else in the room) had been well aware that the paper was blank, before glancing at toji, whose glare grew sharper by the second.

and under the crushing weight of that look, satoru's bravado faltered. his fingers crumpled the paper into a ball with a slow, deliberate motion.

tossing it aside, he straightened up, forcing a grin as he placed one hand over his heart.

"toji fushiguro," he began with exaggerated sincerity, "i deeply regret the events of today, and i humbly offer my —"

"you little shit —" toji growled, his eyes narrowing further.

satoru's grin stiffened. "right. sorry. freestyling it is."

if his glasses had been taken off indoors, she would have been able to read his real thoughts through his eyes. instead, she was made to sit back and guess, watching the events play out before her like a sitcom.

it was unpredictable.

especially when it came to her husband and the godfather of their son.

"i'm... sorry."

toji was not happy with that:

"for?" he pressed, head tilted expectantly.

satoru shot him a disgusted look:

"the hell you mean 'for'? i apologised —"

toji turned to look back at his wife with a scary level of calmness.

"i'm holding myself back —" he told her through gritted teeth.

"okay, toji —" she began, trying to be the peacemaker but failing miserably.

satoru let out a loud groan, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"fine," he said, exasperated. "i'm sorry... for accusing you of cheating on this gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal —"

toji instinctively stepped forward. "you tryin' to take my wife?"

"no," satoru scowled, "i'm married —"

"he's not," suguru coughed.

satoru recoiled dramatically. "whose side are you even on?"

toji clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin as satoru's antics grated on his nerves. his eyes had darkened with a sharp, warning glare, fists curling at his sides as if holding himself back from throwing a punch.

his wife watched as the tension radiated from him like heat, his broad frame stiffening as he muttered under his breath about what he'd do if satoru kept running his mouth.

"anyway, i'm sorry for accusing you of cheating on her... not that you could find anyone better," satoru continued, his left dimple becoming more prominent the longer he grinned. "she's gorgeous. she's amazing. you hit the jackpot with her —"

"erm... thank you, satoru?" she smiled, visibly and audibly confused. "i... don't know if i should take that as a compliment, or..?"

"it's a compliment!" satoru assured her, his grin toothy and bright. "from the first most handsome person in the world to the second prettiest in the world."

"what the—" toji began, looking disgusted. he grunted, looking down at his own son with a glare. "fine. megumi —"

megumi looked up at his dad with a scowl. his mom could only bite back a laugh at his expression, a carbon copy of the man she married.

"— i didn't do anything wrong," he snapped.

stubborn like him, too.

toji took a deep breath in, and everyone in the room glanced at megumi, expectant.

but megumi had seemed firm on his stance, stagnant, no chance of moving. you were staring at him like he'd grown two heads.

she should have seen this coming, to be fair. unlike everybody else, megumi had not been holding an apology letter to begin with.

"if you don't start apologising, now, boy," toji threatened, his fists clenched.

perhaps now was a good time to step in:

"toji, he's just a —"

"smart brat is what he is," he interrupted grumpily, glaring down at his son. "apologise."

megumi let out a long, exaggerated sigh, the weight of frustration pressing his small shoulders down as if the air itself had turned heavy. his dark eyes slid shut briefly, and when he opened them again, they were filled with a mix of irritation and reluctant obedience, a reflection of his father's unrelenting will.

the sigh wasn't just a breath, his mom noticed with an apologetic glance — it was the embodiment of every ounce of exasperation he felt, a drawn-out gesture that spoke louder than words, as though he were releasing the burden of dealing with his family's antics all at once.

"fine," he grumbled, taking her by surprise. it usually took a bit more probing before megumi was made to bend at anyone's will. "i'm sorry for following them around even though i didn't do anything wrong."

"YOU —"

"my turn!" you beamed excitedly.

"oh here we go," satoru mumbled under his breath, being shot a warning glance by the woman shifting on the arm of the couch, her brows furrowed.

toji regarded a glaring megumi with one irate look — one that read 'this isn't finished' — before glancing down at you, the glittery strap of one of your sandals left undone like the messy child you were.

where toji found it to be a headache, his wife found it cute. she'd always wanted a girl at some point in her life.

"okay, so!" you began, clearing your throat dramatically. your little fingers had clenched your apology letter hard enough to crease every part you touched.

you took a deep breath in, before noticing all the eyes that had been placed on you, and then began looking around anxiously, as though everyone was staring at something behind you instead.

"what's the delay?" toji grunted, impatient.

"everyone's keeping on — everyone's keeping on looking at me!" you said, fidgeting where you stood.

"it's 'keeps on'," megumi corrected you icily.

"you better shut your mouth," toji started on him, only pausing when his wife scolded him for toeing the line that determined what was too far and what was not.

"it's — it's fine!" you smiled, your baby cheeks looking soft enough to squish. she had to refrain from doing so. you were in the middle of your apology, after all. "i'm gonna just close my eyes!"

and so you did.

you closed your eyes, your hands still clutching the sheet you were meant to be reading from, before you realised your mistake.

"'m sorry for... er..." you hesitated, your brows furrowed with how tight you had closed your lids. "wait! where did my apolology letter go?"

"'apology'," megumi had corrected yet again.

satoru snorted. "open your eyes, genius — ow!"

suguru had kicked his foot.

"y/n, honey, open your eyes," mrs fushiguro told you politely.

"that's what i just sai— ow, suguru, cut it out!"

with a deep breath, you opened your eyes and glanced down.

realisation had dawned as you spotted the crumpled apology letter clenched tightly in your small hands. a sheepish laugh escaped your lips, soft and warm, as if even you couldn't believe your own antics.

toji groaned in growing impatience, rubbing his temple with an exaggerated sigh that only made the moment funnier to his wife, who had hid her smile behind her hand, trying to maintain decorum for your sake.

determined, you squared your shoulders and lifted your chin.

"i know what to do!" you declared brightly, clutching the letter with newfound resolve. "i'm just — i'm just gonna turn around 'cause no one will see me!"

without waiting for anyone's input, you spun on your heels to face the television, ready to deliver your heartfelt apology with dramatic flair and a focus all your own.

only to be submerged by a fit of giggles, turning around with a wide grin.

"what now?" toji snapped angrily.

"turning around — turning around is so funny!" you laughed, before choking on your own laughter at the grave expression on the older man's face. "okay, okay! calm down... angry man!"

you finally started on your apology.

only for it to go absolutely no where...

in other words (she hated to admit it) but the same reaction satoru had been scolded for earlier was the same one that was found to be right.

you were talking just for the sake of talking, the apology going no where...

"i'm sorry," you started, eyes drifting down your lined paper, "that i — that i listened to the two old mans next to — next to megumi fushigo right now. my mommy says to listen to older people! so — so i listened to older people! but, toji the angry man says that — that he will crush satoru and suguru like a ladybug! and even though my mommy says i like ladybugs, i don't want to keeping on being shouted to! so now i have to say sorry because i have to be safe from toji the angry man —"

"right, that's enough," toji growled, waving a hand at you.

it seemed that just like his wife, he did not seem to know what to make of this apology.

all he knew was that you talked way too much.

"her mouth moves before her brain does," he said, turning to his wife who sent him a sharp look, one that easily translated to 'be nice!'.

"my — my mommy says —"

suguru leaned closer to his best friend. "either she's a serial liar, or her mom's been lobotomised."

"can i leave now?" asked megumi, looking past his dad and at his mom for her approval.

but before she could respond, toji leaned forwards with a casual grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, cutting off her words before they could form, but there was a sharpness in his movement, like a blade waiting to strike.

"no," he said, his darting from you to satoru and back again. "no, i'm not satisfied yet. this bastard's still grinning —"

you turned to megumi with a frown. "what's a bastard?"

his mom stood up almost immediately, but megumi had already begun his explanation:

"when a man and his mistress —"

"megumi!" she interrupted, alert.

the two of you looked up at her, one of you wide-eyed, the other with narrowed ones. she hurriedly ushered her son away from you, glancing at toji, suguru, and satoru all the while.

"well this has been nice," she mumbled, trying to smile despite her slight irritation towards this entire ordeal, "and i appreciate the apologies, but toji, let's wrap this up now.

toji's eyes lit up with a glimmer of mischief, his grin spreading slowly as though a particularly devious idea had just taken root in his mind. his gaze flickered between satoru and you, and the sharp arch of his brow hinted at a plan already forming, a dangerous sort of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back slightly, the picture of a man who had just found the perfect way to make things even more chaotic — and far more entertaining — for his own amusement.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the door had clicked shut behind him with an ominous finality, and satoru stared at it in horrified disbelief, hands pressed flat against the wooden surface as if sheer willpower could force it open again.

his shoulders sagged with defeat as your voice filled the small, stifling space, a rapid-fire stream of chatter that had no clear beginning or end. you were halfway through a story about some incident involving your dad, a rogue basketball, and uncle ogi's furious tirade, and satoru groaned quietly.

his fingers twitched at his temples as if rubbing them would make it stop. he glanced at you, half-distraught, half-bewildered, mouthing a silent help me to the empty room, realising there would be no escape.

"— and my mommy says we're just keeping on staying here!" you added at last.

but you weren't done; you tugged at the fabric of his jeans.

"wanna play i spy with my little eye?"

he banged on the door angrily.

"get me out of here!" he begged desperately, and when you had gone on a long tangent about why every single grey-haired person on the planet was a long lost relative of satoru's, satoru found himself nearly detaching the door knob.

"i will break this door down!" he threatened loudly.

but the only sounds that could be heard behind it were the calm chatter between the fushiguros, and the little fushiguro who had settled on sitting against the other side of the door to correct your english where necessary.

even suguru had left him behind (which he should have seen coming, ever since the kfc incident).

satoru would never accuse toji of cheating on his wife ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: i lowkey hate the way this chapter turned out lmao, so it'll probably undergo some editing, idk. i wrote it in a rush, specifically for my two talented artists. i hope you guys enjoyed it anyway! <3 i meshed a little plot AND filler so you get the best of both worlds! :)

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @reocidal @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child @anotherwriternamedclara @ist0leurc0ffee @spookypeacesandwich @jvpit3rr @2ukika @zzn-li @biancaackerman

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[elektrae]

JJK 260 SPOILERS

Gege tell me you're being for real oh my goooood please don't tell me it's a haibara situation PLEASE TELL ME SHOKO WILL HAVE HER MOMENT AKD GOJO IS ACTUALLY BACK

[allpiesforourown]

Can I ask from this ask game for BingYuan (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁

https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share

Send me a ship and a number and I'll tell you

1. Which one is the better cook

Binghe 100%. Shen Yuan was a spoiled rich kid and after Binghe fell into the abyss he just stopped eating... there's no way he knows how to toast bread

2. What their love letters look like

Love letters imply they're ever far enough to need to send each other letters... at most they'll be long texts Binghe sends rambling about how much he wuvs his hubby and would rather be at home than his stupid job as King 🙄 and Shen Yuan blushes and replies "Focus on work Binghe..." Then he waits for Binghe to get home and whine that sy was so cold to him so he can apologize with smooches

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

I mean . We know how this goes. Corpse cuddles and trying to raise the dead

4.What they do on date night

Since Binghe is a hopeless romantic who never thought anyone would love him, I think he'd want to do stereotypically romantic and basic dates. They go to an ice rink and hold hands while they skate and he's vibrating with joy because he's living out his hallmark fantasies. Shen Yuan indulges him sooo much.. too much. He got a cold but it was worth it seeing Binghe's happy face

5. How many kids they'll have

I'm gonna say... two. One is through breeding kink gone too far, second is them seeing an orphan boy who reminds them so much of Binghe as a child and deciding they have to adopt him immediately

6. How they decorated their bedroom

Elegant and slightly minimalist. Shen Yuan has all his merch hidden away in his childhood bedroom at his parents house because he's thin faced... they stay over one night and Shen Yuan completely forgets his old room is a haven of his weeb shit and is mortified when Binghe sees his limited edition poster of a hunky male character naked holding a sword.

7 Which one is the worse driver

Shen Yuan by far... same reason as his cooking, he probably had a driver take him everywhere until Binghe showed up

8. What they argue about

9. Which one swears more

Shen Yuan by a landslide. Binghe is a very intelligent and well read man and while the same holds true for Shen Yuan, if he goes 2 minutes without calling Airplane a dumfuck authour it's worrying

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

Theyll watch anything together, even stuff they dont like so Binghe can listen to him rant about how much it sucks. Shen Yuan hides PIDW and all his other porn-for-plot interests but Binghe knows about them.

11. What their first impression was of each other

Shen Yuan impression of Binghe: beautiful and strong man

Binghe’s first impression of Shen Yuan: beautiful and kind man

(This never changes)

12. What they do for their anniversary

Regrets of Chunshan role-playing baby!!

13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays

Hmm. I'm gonna have to say both. Binghe cooks a feast and Shen Yuan dotes on him and fulfills any wish Binghe has.

14. What nicknames they call each other

Binghe: yuan-gege or laoshi

Shen Yuan: Bingmei (in his head only, he's too embarrassed to say it)

15. What they would change about each

If you ask them, Shen Yuan would say Binghe should have a smaller pillar... this is a lie. He can't go back to normal after getting used to Binghe stretching him so wide

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Lover is a Day...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Softcore

**¡Halloween, tricotrí! ¡Dame chavos, no maní! ¡No te escondas que te vi, en la casa de Pepín!

** 09/20, 2:18 p.m. - Gege, when I fucking catch you... there are no spoilers in this episode btw

**09/20, 3:18 p.m. - I hope you're bullet proof, because once you make the parallels, this bout to h u r t

...

Yaga had a knack for playing the role of a silent observer, that is, when he wasn't giving your group an earful (specifically your lot) for indulging in the most ludicrous antics right in his classroom.

I swear I wrote about the carvings in a previous episode but idk which and on whose desk but it is what it is

Who could forget the time he went ballistic because you lot thought it'd be genius to carve your names into the wooden surface of your desk?

(Side Note: You were the one behind that plan, with Gojo egging on Suguru to join in. Suguru had been adamant on not doing it, but funnily enough, he was the first to carve his name on the wood.)

(Add-On: Ieiri was the one who had the blade, a simple scalpel she always seemed to have on hand. Strangely, she carried it with her wherever she went. When boredom struck, she'd use it to carefully trim the ends of her hair.)

Honestly, for someone who had a strong distaste for vandalism, Yaga surprisingly couldn't find it in his heart to sand those carvings away.

(Side Note: While tidying up one of the campus storage rooms, Maki stumbled upon your desk from your first year. It had been concealed beneath layers of dust and a hint of mildew. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist taking a closer look, and there, amidst the neglect, she discovered two unfamiliar names, etched alongside Gojo's. She never mentioned it to anyone, but the curiosity gnawed at her. Still, she knew better than to pry into the Six-Eye user's business.)

Yaga swore he didn't play favorites, but if you pressed him, he might just confess to having a soft spot for either you or Ieiri (although, to be honest, it leaned more toward you, especially since you never missed a Friday for knitting lessons). When it came to Ieiri, well, their interactions were usually filled with her nonchalant and uncaring attitude, making it a bit tough for Yaga to really bond with her.

Yaga, as the implications suggest, regarded you as kin, perhaps even more dearly than blood. This sentiment deepened upon discovering the harrowing circumstances of your arrival, the cruel treatment you endured at the hands of the elders—treatment he loathed to the core. Yet, despite this fierce indignation, he was trapped in a web of helplessness. He lacked the political clout and cursed energy prowess to challenge the elders, not for now, at least.

So, all he could do was try to make your time at Jujutsu High a bit more bearable. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy when you had to deal with an insufferable tampon and that crafty schemer.

However

With you around, Yaga felt a certain calmness settling among your trio. It seemed his earlier assumptions about the two boys were spot on.

Gojo, usually the master of comical antics, seemed to don a more serious demeanor when you or Suguru were around. Gone was the need to perform, as you often referred to it during your knitting lessons.

(Side Note: Your theory was that Gojo's act served two purposes. Firstly, it was his way of appearing more human than the god-like entity everyone saw him as. Secondly, you thought it was his subconscious attempt to relate to humans. Gojo had always been seen as incredibly arrogant, having lived a life where he was hailed as a god. But even gods, you mused, might grow tired of their divine status. Perhaps, occasionally, they wished to experience life from the perspective of an ordinary "ant.")

(Add-On: You shared this theory with Yaga during your 24th knitting lesson. By that point, you had grown comfortable enough to openly share your thoughts with him. You tended to be more talkative, showing a vulnerability that made Yaga want to protect you like the child you still were.)

Suguru projected an image of calm and composure, but Yaga could discern the undercurrent of anxiety beneath the surface. His leg would bounce with the weight of silent worries, and his eyes would dart from clock to board, back to the clock, to you and Gojo, and finally outside. It was a restless ritual, but the moment either Gojo or you uttered a word, whether directed at him or not, his demeanor would soften. His leg would cease its nervous dance, his shoulders relaxed, and the lines around his eyes would ease.

Ieiri, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. She often appeared as a two-dimensional character, lacking clear purpose or direction. Her nonchalant, carefree attitude occasionally irked Yaga. However, he couldn't help but notice the subtle looks she cast your way. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when you playfully insulted Gojo for the simplest of actions. Her golden-brown eyes, fixed on the faint glow of your own eyes whenever you practiced your cursed technique in the training fields; it seemed she could hardly tear her gaze away from you.

Love could be so wicked at times

Especially in the Jujutsu world

As a teacher, Yaga was an astute observer. It was his duty to decipher each of your unique behaviors, allowing him to tailor his teaching methods to suit your individual needs. But that also meant, that he'd be forced to watch both your highs and your downs.

Gojo's smile, once a radiant beacon, gradually dimmed as your interactions increasingly revolved around Suguru. In contrast, Suguru seemed to lean on you for various things ---. he always kept a slight distance, just five steps behind, the once-prominent dark bags beneath his eyes now softened. It was as though his very gaze held you in existence, fearing that breaking eye contact might make you fade away.

You, on the other hand, avoided meeting Gojo's eyes, even refraining from playfully snatching his glasses, all to evade his probing scrutiny. A profound guilt welled within, but you maintained a cheerful façade when you looked up at the tall boy, your eyes closed in a half-smile.

Ieiri trailed behind the trio, her lips gracing a gentle yet melancholic smile, her ember eyes holding a distant quality as she observed the three of you. A flush colored her cheeks when you teased her with a sly grin, the playful gesture diverting her attention from any pressing questions.

He observed it all, sometimes wishing he could turn a blind eye to the subtle shifts in your group's dynamics. There were moments when he yearned for the courage to confront his students, but he pondered whether that would truly be the wisest course of action.

But dwelling on such thoughts had to wait, for now, he charged headlong into a horde of high-grade curses. Halloween, in his personal opinion, was among the most dreaded days of the year.

The streets came alive with a riot of Halloween decorations. Every lamppost was adorned with eerie cobwebs, and pumpkins with wicked grins lined the sidewalks. People roamed about, their faces concealed behind an assortment of masks and whimsical costumes, some posing for pictures while others sought to startle unsuspecting passersby with their ghoulish get-ups.

Above, the muffled thump of music from nearby nightclubs resonated through the air, intermingling with the boisterous chatter and sporadic shrieks of delight from the revelers below. The city had transformed into a carnival of the supernatural --- he despised it.

In an ironic twist, it felt like a taunt. Halloween, a night of heightened fear, saw curses rise to a crescendo of malevolence. These were no ordinary phantoms; they were vicious, craving blood and terror. Yet, the unassuming non-sorcerer folk continued to revel, blissfully ignorant of the holiday's perilous essence.

It stood as a paradox, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by his colleagues and students. Their valor had shielded these unsuspecting celebrants from the brink of a nightmarish fate.

The rational corner of his mind comprehended that they couldn't be blamed for their ignorance. This veil of secrecy was a necessity; envision the chaos if the ordinary populace were to uncover the truth. The mere panic could breathe fresh vitality into curses, a catastrophe waiting to unfold.

Yet, the acrid part, the facet he labored diligently to conceal, was far from understanding. It harbored a bitterness, an ever-present sting. Why had his students chosen the path of potential sacrifice for those who appeared indifferent, oblivious even?

Nevertheless, there was something oddly cathartic about exorcising scores of curses, with no discernible bounds to the might of his technique.

Still, a nagging thought persisted in the recesses of his mind, one that refused to be ignored — how were you and the rest of the group faring?

You were meant to be a team, a rare instance where the elders had paired you with Gojo and Suguru. Missions with just the three of you were almost unheard of, and Yaga had always been curious about the reason behind it. But every time he tried to bring it up, usually when he passed you some yarn, you'd get all defensive and tell him to hush before the elders caught wind of his questions.

(Side Note: I'm sure you're all wondering where everyone else is, so here's a quick update. The trio is holding down the fort in Shibuya with Yaga. Nanami and Yu have been dispatched near Kyoto, working alongside the students from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Meanwhile, Ieiri is back on campus, safe and sound, mentally preparing herself for the impending chaos when everyone returns, and she has to mend their wounds.)

(Add-On: Ieiri's usual smoke breaks lack the same charm without you there to light them up. It's just not quite the same.)

The memory of those moments still stung.

What exactly were you scared of? Because something must've scared you enough to deny him that piece of information, especially with how close the two of you have gotten.

(Side Note: Yaga was there to see the trio off. Surprisingly, you allowed him to pat your head, a simple but genuine gesture that warmed his heart. A grin threatened to spread across his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by Gojo's playful banter and Suguru's quiet laughter as they teased Yaga about wanting to be a father or something.)

(Add-On: You would never admit it, but you, too, felt the subtle warmth Yaga had alluded to. You watched his soul transition from its usual darkish purple to a fleeting, light orange glow, and it left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.)

Perched atop a towering skyscraper, Yaga allowed himself a stolen moment to survey the world below. In this rare interlude, a semblance of composure washed over him.

Since your arrival, not necessarily your fault alone, but a persistent unease had gnawed at him, weaving dread into the very sinews of his muscles and the calcium ions within his bones.

From this vantage point, he observed, as he always did.

On your side

There was an unsettling aura about a frowning Gojo, a sensation that gnawed at the core of things. It felt out of place, like a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious melody. A stoic facade, Suguru mused, would have been more fitting. Even tears, a rarity that would require an earth-shattering trauma, seemed a lesser evil than the frown that now etched itself upon Gojo's lips.

Was it Suguru's doing? Did his actions somehow bring this perpetual frown to Gojo's face? The questions swirled within him like a tempest, an unceasing storm of uncertainty.

"You know the truth," a voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, resonating with a cold and cutting edge that made him flinch. It was his voice, yet not his own.

He barely had time to complete his internal inquiry when his trajectory carried him toward an impending collision with the wall. That is, it would have if not for the interlocking web of chains, forming an impenetrable barrier that spared him from a potentially incapacitating crash.

Despite the quick save, Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist.

Nonetheless

Suguru couldn't help but offer a knowing smile as he redirected his gaze skyward. Above him, you soared, gracefully navigating from one chain to the next. The buildings became your towering trees, and the streets transformed into your verdant jungle.

Ugh, comparing you to Tarzan leaves a bad taste on my tongue for some reason

You didn't need words; he instantly grasped the meaning in your gaze. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips, and he assured, "I'm fine."

With a stiff nod in response, you swiftly redirected your attention to a Grade-1 curse. Your chains sliced through it like needles through fabric, siphoning its cursed energy to unleash a cascade of attacks on surrounding curses.

But where was Gojo? The sound of shattering glass served as his only warning. Shards lightly scored his uniform and skin. Suguru's eyes narrowed in irritation and a hint of anger as he observed Gojo's stoic figure striding through the wreckage, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that surrounded him.

Tiny tears marred Suguru's cheeks as his uniform bore the brunt of the Force, revealing glimpses of skin through the delicate fabric wounds. Strangely, not a solitary drop of blood stained the scene.

He couldn't restrain his frustration, hurling curses at Gojo with palpable anger. "Oi, Satoru! Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've ended me right there!"

In response, Gojo couldn't resist an eye-roll. "Nah, you really wouldn't have."

Suguru's eye twitched at the albino's careless words, spine straight and shoulder stuff as he eyed the man before him. Meanwhile, Gojo looked absolutely bored out of his mind as he nonchalantly cleaned out his ear.

"Fucking bastard." "If you're so irked by me, come get me, asshole "

And so, the pissing match began once again.

Lately, their little 'spats' had escalated into something far more heated. What once was a light-hearted banter and a contest of egos had taken a darker turn about a week ago. The laughter that usually followed their bouts was now replaced by an uncomfortable tension.

And you were fully aware of the reasons behind this shift. But would you intervene? Well, that's still up for debate.

Just as the situation seemed on the verge of boiling over, your phone chimed with a familiar ringtone. A smile grazed your lips as you greeted the caller with a lightness in your voice.

"Everything going well on your end, Kento? Is Yu doing fine?"

As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice a sneaky curse trying to creep up on Gojo. It's tendrils aiming for his rights side. With a casual flick of your wrist, your chains skewered the unwelcome visitor. The abrupt action prompted Gojo to cast an inscrutable look your way, sending a shiver down your spine.

He's still hanging in there, so I guess he's doing alright." In the background, another voice piped up, "Is that who I think it is? Give 'em a shout from me!" You couldn't help but chuckle as Kento let out a melodramatic sigh, "You heard?"

You replied, "Yep. Tell him I said hi back. And pass along the same for Mei-Mei and Utahime."

Kento quipped, "You're pushing your luck."

With a casual flick of your wrist, you dispatched yet another mess of foul goo.

"Why the call?" you asked. "...No reason," came Kento's mysterious reply. You grinned, "Ah, I see."

(Side Note: In the current scene, Yu found himself in a comically dire situation. A curse had him pinned down, and he flailed his arms around, calling out for Mei Mei's assistance. Mei Mei, thoroughly entertained by this display, couldn't help but find Yu's predicament rather endearing. She watched, amused, though she refrained from helping him until Utahime, embroiled in her own battle against two curses, shouted at Mei-Mei to come to Yu's aid.)

(Add-On: Utahime was seriously on edge; this year's Halloween curses were exceptionally gruesome. Just catching sight of them was enough to rattle her nerves. She had half a mind to go say 'fuck it' and haul ass screaming like a little bitch. No judgement here cuz same)

Suddenly, you sensed a stray piece of debris hurtling toward your head. In a swift motion, your chains sprang to life, obliterating it before it could reach you. You shot an exasperated glance at Suguru and Gojo, who seemed engrossed in their peculiar spar—basically, just tossing things at each other.

Your patience snapped, and you hollered at them to cease their antics and refocus on the mission. Before they could react, your chains coiled around them, effectively immobilizing the duo.

Suguru relented with a pout, while Gojo couldn't resist a snarky comment. "Always knew you were kinky."

Your response triggered Kento's voice blasting through the phone in a tirade against Gojo's behavior, which only fueled Gojo's maniacal laughter.

(Side Note: Gojo didn't particularly want to laugh, but it seemed like an obligatory performance at this point.)

With an eye-roll, you shifted your attention back to the call. "We're almost done here, so no worries."

"Alright, stay safe. Don't trust those dumbasses for anything," Kento admonished before ending the call, leaving you quietly chuckling.

The tension was as palpable as ever, making the mission feel like walking on eggshells. You glanced at Gojo and Suguru, both now reluctantly cooperating. What started as a straightforward task had somehow morphed into a convoluted dance of egos.

As you ventured further into the cursed zone, the silence weighed heavily on the trio. Gojo's trademark smirk, usually as constant as the North Star, had transformed into a stern expression, his gaze fixated on the distance. Meanwhile, Suguru's fists were clenched, jaw locked tight.

Shit

Once upon a time, these two had been inseparable, but now it was like watching two tectonic plates slowly drift apart.

As you ventured deeper into the cursed alleyway, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow you whole. The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it. You don't have time to think about it as you use your technique to identify the more hidden curses.

You cursed under your breath as bits of your clothing became stained by the grime of the walls. Filthy, damp walls pressed in from both sides, making it feel like there was no way out. Absolutely fucking disgusting.

Gojo led the way, his steps echoing off the grimy pavement as he followed the faint trail of minor curses. Suguru trailed behind, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

The darkness was thick, and the tension among your trio hung heavy in the air. It felt like a pressure cooker, waiting to explode at any moment. The distant cries of curses only added to the eerie fucked up atmosphere.

Gojo moved with an effortless grace, his sapphire eyes ablaze with cursed energy as he obliterated curses left and right. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, as he dispatched each threat with swift precision.

On the other hand, Suguru was growing increasingly agitated. He watched the curses he could've consumed vanish into wisps of nothingness with each sweep of Gojo's hand. His frustration simmered beneath his skin, boiling over into anger.

"Dammit, Satoru," Suguru glared, voice laced with annoyance. "I could've used some of those."

Gojo barely spared him a glance, his focus unwavering. "Too bad, so sad. You've got plenty in your arsenal already, Suguru. Don't get greedy."

Cue that angry mark thing on Suguru's forehead

You couldn't help but sigh internally, "I swear --- it's like a fucking k-drama breakup or something. Unbelievable."

But this was your fault

No, this is just things that have been simmering for a while finally boiling over.

And just what exactly prompted this...'simmering of feelings'?

...check your fucking tone and fix that attitude of yours.

Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try.

Fuck. You.

Also...

What?

Watch out, hehe.

(Side Note: When stressed, you curse. A lot. )

Suddenly, an especially powerful curse materialized, catching you off guard. It lunged at you, the impact sending you crashing into the nearby shop's window. The glass shattered like your composure, and blood painted the scene.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you were hurled through the air and into the glass window. The shards of glass seemed to glisten in a surreal dance of glimmers and reflections, and for a brief moment, the shattered glass created a fragmented tapestry of the scene, as if you were glimpsing reality through a shattered mirror.

Blue rose petals descended gracefully, an ethereal contrast to the crimson stains on your battered form. They tumbled from an unseen sky, their delicate dance casting an otherworldly beauty over the grim tableau.

Upon collision with the glass, it shattered into a symphony of discordant notes, the cacophony ringing in your ears. The shards dug into your flesh, tearing at your clothes, and for a suspended moment, the world seemed crystallized in chaos.

Lying there, gasping for air and stinging with pain, you took in the surreal sight of the blue rose petals falling around you. In the corners of your quickly fading vision, you saw flower pots and greenery --- it felt like you were back in Yu's dorm room. Safe and warm.

Oh, it's a flower shop.

First off, why the fuck is there a flower shop at the end of some random creepy ass alleyway?

Second off, why was it so quiet?

The eerie silence settled like a heavy fog, muffling the once-chaotic sounds of curses. You furrowed your brow, puzzled by their sudden disappearance. Where had they—

In a sudden and almost comically abrupt fashion, the souls of Suguru and Gojo popped into your field of vision. It was as if they had teleported into view, their ghostly forms shimmering with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, their appearance catching you off guard amidst the strange stillness of the cursed zone.

"Fucking hell," you swore under your breath as you felt one of the two gently pick up your head before leveling it on a soft warm --- thighs. Bony ones at that so it had to be Gojo.

(Side Note: You couldn't help but instinctively reach out to palm the limb, the blood seeping from your scraped hands staining Gojo's pants.)

Suguru dropped to his knees beside you, his face etched with deep concern, his eyes darting anxiously over your wounds. He hovered his hands over the injuries, torn between wanting to help and the uncertainty of what to do next. The injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were far from insignificant.

"Hey, are you okay?" Suguru's voice quivered with genuine worry as he assessed the damage. "Damn it, you're bleeding..." Panic flickered across his features as he glanced at the blood, his usually composed demeanor giving way to concern.

His soul was crying

Gojo remained uncharacteristically silent, his lips parting only to remove his glasses. His gaze locked onto your injured face, and in that fleeting moment when your eyes met, it was a meeting of pearlescent and iridescent. The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for...

Before the thought could fully form, Gojo finally broke his silence. His expression turned grave, and he spoke in a low, almost breathless tone, "Use your chains on me."

You couldn't help but snort with amusement, even as a wince of pain crossed your face. "Now, who's the kinky one," you quipped, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

If you weren't injured, Gojo might have smacked the shit out if you, but in this situation, he opted for a sharp pinch on your arm until you acquiesced.

Drawing cursed energy from people was always a unique experience, but what intrigued you even more was the distinctiveness of each person's energy.

Suguru's had a bittersweet undertone, much like his tea, while Gojo's... Well, perhaps it was his cursed technique, but it felt almost exhilarating. Sweet, like his insatiable sweet tooth, and undeniably stimulating.

Your blood raced with adrenaline, and you couldn't help but savor the taste of Gojo's energy. It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul.

Separating your chains from their souls, a shiver of relief coursed through your body as most of your injuries miraculously began to heal. With a soft hum of gratitude, you muttered a quiet thank you under your breath. With Suguru and Gojo's assistance, you managed to sit up on the pile of debris.

"Are you guys okay?" you inquired, concern lacing your words.

Suguru, still clearly shaken by the events, snapped, "You almost die, and you ask US if we're okay?" He couldn't hide his worry, despite his gruff tone.

You let out a playful pout as you leaned into the warmth of Gojo's hands, tilting your head back like a whiny child. "Well, fuck you too, Suguru." "Don't you curse at me, you little-"

As you and Suguru continued your bickering, Gojo calmly brought you closer, positioning you against his body and enveloping your waist with his arms. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he let out a quiet exhale that felt like a sigh of relief.

(Side Note: The exhale was so strong that it lightly pulled on your moon earring. The very one Gojo gifted you.)

You froze at the unexpected closeness, momentarily taken aback, while Suguru observed in silence, a pensive expression clouding his face.

One beat

"You two really pissed me off, ya know?" Gojo's words carried an unusual weight, and both you and Suguru had never heard him sound so sullen. It wasn't meekness; Gojo could never be meek or weak, but his voice seemed, in that moment, small.

Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the tremor in his voice, and it sent a chill down your spine.

Two beats

Both Suguru and you dared not to speak as Gojo continued to talk, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he spoke. It was as if he had to physically restrain himself from retreating into his usual emotional barriers.

"You disappear for a few days, and suddenly, you're both different. And then, it's like I don't even exist. You made me feel..."

Three beats

"Unwanted? Jealous? Neglected?" You interjected softly, your voice tinged with understanding. Gojo pinched your side, causing you to wince, and earning a sharp glare from Suguru. "Don't fucking psychoanalyze me."

"Sorry," you murmured, sensing the tension in his voice.

Four beats

Gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do."

Suguru leaned against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "Typical Satoru. Always the 'strongest' but falls apart when emotions come into play." You clenched your jaw.

Five beats

"Suguru. Not now." You swore you saw a flicker of a satisfied smirk on the albino's face as you scolded said male. "Gojo, stop smirking." Now it was Suguru's turn to smirk.

(Side Note: Gojo was so ridiculously satisfied.)

From the corner of your eye, you spotted something amidst the rubble. Leaning over to pick it up, a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized it was a nondescript bottle of sake.

Nothing too distinctive, just an ordinary bottle of sake.

Balancing it in your hand, you inhaled the aroma as you uncorked it. A soft sigh escaped, and a small smile graced your face.

As you took a cautious sip from the bottle, you were pleasantly surprised by its smooth and mellow flavor. The warmth of the sake spread through you --- a nice contrast to the cold air of Japan.

"Are you serious right now?" Suguru's voice resonated through the eerie silence of the ravaged flower shop. With a shrug, you tossed the bottle to Gojo.

Gojo grimaced, "You're seriously gross right now. Who knows where that's been?"

You rolled your eyes at his comment, "Well, either drink it and unwind or ditch it to relieve some stress."

He stared down at you for a good three minutes, his expression still contorted, before finally grunting and taking a sip. The effect was nearly instantaneous as the young Six-Eye User's tense shoulders relaxed.

Six beats

The severity in his gaze softened as he turned his attention to Suguru, who wore a similarly displeased expression.

With the bottle held in his large hands, Gojo seemed poised to throw it at the raven-haired man, but at the eleventh hour, he offered it instead. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting heartbeat as Suguru savored a modest sip.

A sigh escaped his lips as he let the alcohol slide down his throat, his shoulders dropping in a similar manner like Gojo as you silently stayed within the albino's arms.

A hush blossomed among the three of you, your gazes fixed on various points, as if deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other.

Yet, even in that unspoken silence, it seemed as if words were superfluous. Simply being present in that moment, basking in each other's auras and existence, sufficed to transmit everyone's sentiments.

Amidst the remnants of the flower shop, with broken petals strewn about like the memories of a fading dream, a subtle breeze whispered its way through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blossoms that once danced in vibrant hues. And a soft, distant chirping of birds carried through the broken windows --- ah, it was morning already.

Suguru, his grip on the sake bottle loosening, glanced around at the desolation surrounding you. His eyes, once filled with annoyance, now held a touch of melancholy.

Suguru's gaze finally shifted, meeting Gojo's eyes for the briefest of moments. A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of...something.

As if by an unspoken agreement, Gojo lifted the bottle once more, offering it to Suguru. With a nod of appreciation, Suguru accepted, their bond acknowledged in this simple act.

You couldn't help but make an undignified noise as you tried to reach for the bottle, "Oi! Don't drink it all, I want some too!"

With a playful smirk, Gojo leaned slightly away from Suguru, extending the bottle above you, just out of your reach. "Oh, you want some too?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Suguru joined in with a sly grin, "You know, sharing is caring."

You responded with an exasperated sigh, your attempt to grab the bottle foiled by Gojo's playful maneuvering. "Alright, alright, you guys win. Just pass it over here before I start feeling left out." Ironic.

Gojo and Suguru persisted in their playful teasing, much to your chagrin, as you struggled within Gojo's grasp to lower his arm, desperately attempting to reach the bottle he held aloft. Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, while Gojo cackled with the exuberance of a madman.

From his vantage point, Yaga couldn't suppress a chuckle as he witnessed the scene unfold. It warmed his heart to see the tension between the three of you dissipate—perhaps not entirely, but enough that he believed everyone would experience a sense of relief come the next school day.

Seven beats

...

Song Inspo: Ray Laurél - CHARLES JEFFREY

(A/N): Hopefully, one day I'll see TCT on a 'JJK Tumblr fanfic recommendations' TikTok vid --- the moment people recommend this to others on that fucking app, that's when I know I'm doing a good job 💀

Valeria Garza has a chokehold on me rn. Ooo, should I write for CoD? It'd be interesting deciphering their personalities considering the shit load of trauma they all got going on.

09/20 - In the middle of writing this, a kitten sucked into my yard and I have dogs. I had to pry the poor thing out of their mouths (it's alive! Ran off tho). Unfortunately, the kitten did bite me. So I'm not writing this with an injured hand and a prayer that I don't have an infection. 🥹

09/21 - Just as I was finishing up, I received an e-mail from the Head of my Bachelor's Department saying that my current classes were not valid for my degree and that I'd have to re-enroll. I spent a whole 15 minutes bawling my eyes out, crying to mami on the phone before the mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me it was an error and I'm fine.

09/23 - it's like 12am rn and the most horrible thing happened and ugh, I could not stop bawling my eyes out and I was bleeding everywhere. I'm fine now but like damn bro.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be published on September 20 due to, uh, reasons. (JJK 236 spoilers parallel) However, shit happened and I didn't publish it in time. My bad bros, hoes, and non-binaries bitches.

Originally, I had planned to kick off this episode from Suguru's or someone else's perspective – anyone but Yaga's. But, at the last second, I realized we needed a bit more Yaga content. Plus, it'd be intriguing to delve into his viewpoint regarding the cursed trio's dynamics and all that jazz.

"...gentle yet melancholic smile," was actually supposed to just be a 'gentle small smile.' This is because Ieiri was just happy to be there within the boundaries of your presence. But I changed it because, when written this way, it just confirms that Ieiri knows her status in the group. As in, she doesn't have an actual status.

"...Nah, you really wouldn't have." Was actually, "Oh come on, Suguru. You know I wouldn't go that far."

The plan for this episode was to kick off near a flower shop, but fate had other ideas. It concluded right at a flower shop instead.

"The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it." This was actually supposed to reference the ancient King of Curses but I couldn't figure how to do it, so I genuinely said fuck it.

"Don't fucking psychoanalyze me," was supposed to be, "So you knew yet you did nothing?" This is to imply your avoidance of confrontations. Maybe foreshadowing too.

Originally, you were going to apologize to Gojo for everything but then, as an author, I realized that the cursed trio are a bunch of teenagers put in the riskiest of situations with severe vulnerability problems and communication issues, hence the silence and the avoidance of eye contact.

This switch to Yaga as the main POV in this episode kind of plays with that idea that teachers are always watching their students, even if it doesn't seem like it. It's not just about observing; it's about whether they decide to take action or simply stay on the sidelines.

Ngl, certain characters, in canon, feel rather two-dimensional. Maybe, it's because I haven't really read the manga or finished the anime --- but like yeah. So I like exploring them, giving them depth and stuff like that. Like Yaga, Yu, Ieiri, and others.

Suguru narrowly escaped critical injury thanks to your swift response, an imperceptible wall formed by hundreds of tiny chains that perpetually encircled him, akin to a vigilant guardian.

Though invisible to Suguru's eyes, these chains remained visible to Gojo's discerning gaze. In truth, this visibility was the sole reason Gojo took the actions he did.

Suguru's lack of injuries was all thanks to a secret chain connected to his soul. It channeled cursed energy into him, helping him heal swiftly. The finer details of this ability were still a bit hazy, but that's a tale for another day.

The elders, were deep into an emergency meeting, no doubt wrestling with the current crisis. Or so, one would think.

"And so, the pissing match began once again." After this line, I genuinely had no idea what to write next. So I chose to involve the one character that just feels right to write about.

Kento's call came in the wake of an extremely close call, and he needed something to anchor him back to reality before diving back into his mission. The soothing sound of your voice, coupled with Yu's presence, worked like a balm on his nerves. (But you thought it was because he was worried about you. Which, technically, is true but that's beside the point.)

Episode: Borderline --- "...Keep it vague, just like your pointless existence." Goes hand in hand with, "...Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try." Was that your own self-deprecating thoughts, or ???

The reason why Suguru's hands hovered was because he was afraid of causing more damage.

It wasn't his energy that made his soul quiver; it was the fear of losing you.

I wanted to have a little fun so I made that what you eat the most is what your cursed energy either feels like or tastes like. 🤷

As for Gojo, his Infinity vanished the moment he saw you crash through the flower shop window. The sheer shock and horror of the scene caused him to unintentionally drop it.

Typically, Gojo's soul is shielded from your sight due to the nature of his Infinity. However, when he released it, you were able to catch a glimpse of his presence, marked by a curious warp-like effect.

"It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul." Energy vampire much?

The fact that you only ever truly feel safe is when you're in Yu's dorm room surrounded by his plants.

You intentionally left some minor wounds untreated, a small act of consideration for Ieiri. It would give her something to do when she arrived, and you secretly longed to be in her presence again.

"It was his voice, yet not his own." Is a reference to Suguru's creeping depression as well as an indirect reference to Kenjaku.

"...Are you out of your fucking mind?" Is Suguru referencing Gojo's technique and how it fries the brain to a crisp.

"Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist." and "...it's tendrils aiming for his right side" is a reference.

Note how, even though Gojo always keeps his Infinity on (or almost always) along with the fact that he's a Special Grade sorcerer, you still felt the need to protect his back from the minor curse.

The North Star symbolizes guidance, direction, stability and purpose. And no matter what, it stays in the same place no matter what goes around it.

It's not a glass ceiling, but rather a glass wall. Which can be interpreted in multiple manners. It can be the wall between you and Gojo, despite being able to see each other so clearly, a wall remains. The shattering of it representing your agreement in acknowledging the connection.

Or, it's the slow shattering of the Curses Trio's reality as we near Spring.

Or, it's foreshadowing.

Blue roses signify the unattainable. It's like a longing for something to exist, but it forever eludes your grasp. This is a direct reference to the Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 Opening where Gojo carries around a bouquet of blue roses.

In this episode, the clash of "Pearlescent vs. Iridescent" gave way to a harmonious fusion of Pearlescent AND Iridescent. This is to reference that an emotional connection has been officially acknowledged. Not made but acknowledged.

"The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for..." His being is near-perfect in your eyes because if he had just never been born with Six-Eyes, you'd love his blissful ignorance

Although Suguru might be considered your closest friend (in Gojo's mind at least), it was Gojo you instinctively reached out to. Ironic considering how long you've been trying to emotionally avoid him.

If my memory serves me right, the traditional act of sharing a bottle of sake signifies a union among individuals, and for this particular chapter, it felt more like the forging of a soulful connection, a merging of three souls into one. You could even liken it to a form of matrimony.

The consistent theme remained that open communication was a challenge among the three of you. You rarely delved into meaningful discussions, each holding back in your own way. (Communication may be key, but understanding is the door.)

The heart beats are a reference to another Episode, but I don't remember which. Oops.

Gojo didn't throw the bottle at Suguru because he was genuinely tired of fighting with the bestie --- he just wanted you and Suguru back.

Yaga being the silent observer says A LOT. You just don't realize it.

What was the meeting about?

Were you talking to your continually fracturing mind or someone else?

And what exactly did you mean when you said you saw scenes in the shattered glass?

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

[accio-victuuri]

cpn talk: of camping fans, the number 38 and future concerts.

happy monday to everyone! ^^ what better way to start the week than some clowning. i hope this makes it easier for you to get through the day and rest of the week. nothing too ground breaking, just some good old minor cpns i picked up here and there. enjoy~ and yes i used that gif of gege as clickbait! hahahahaha!

i wanna start with a usual observation, the way they do not clash in terms of project promotions. in the past weeks, WoF was in full swing, and now it’s FPU which will most likely continue till it’s release and the week after that. in the meantime, XZ is on radio silence. you still have the usual ads and stock photos from XZS + some random hot searches but nothing else. i have a feeling that after Bobo’s promotions, XZ will come out for LOCH.

and speaking of XZS posting photos, let me direct you to this one. he is holding a fan again. not the 380 yuan but we’ve seen it before and he is using it during his drama filming right now.

so as the clowns that we are, we had to search for it so we can get the same style. how it’s describe on online markets is: F30 handheld rechargeable small fan mini portable wind power household. carry-on fan for camping. camping? interesting. of course you can use outside of that, but with our cpn of them and camping— this is yet another clue. did the same guy who bought him the 380 yuan fan before, searched up something his beloved can use for camping and beyond? they are so cute! i swear! i’m here for this whole soft era of them loving camping and relaxing!

bonus clowning is that the photoset form XZS was posted 19:30 which was the broadcast time for WoF. and considering it was the finale, maybe this was also ZZ’s gift? we already speculate that he is fond of lai lai so it could be…. 🤷🏻‍♀️

moving on to the number 38, which was a recurring number we have noticed from posts made sunday 4/7. 38 zhan bo. 💕 it could mean nothing but somehow, it got me, especially since yibo used it.

video uploaded by ybo is 01:38 and yibo posted 10:38.

now about the future concert of yibo which i screamed about here & here — whether that’s true or not— us cpfs will of course do what we do best. to clown. so here are some points:

1. some are connecting this concert thing to a previous hs related to xz. it was about him and his company adding services which includes concerts. the actual tag was: #xiaozhanstudio adds new commercial performance license#. of course whatever this is, if yibo does hold a concert, it will be under yuehua but i understand where the clowning is coming from.

this comment was so hilarious tho 😂😂😂😂

2. what if yibo invites guests? that’s usual for solo concerts. so we’ve been day dreaming about him singing bu wang, and why not wuji too? and then invite xiao zhan? imagine that. lol. and solos couldn’t even be angry cause wyb invited him. wouldn’t that be amazing?

3. this part in one of xzs vlogs where gg was in an open area and he “jokingly” said something like “Come to my concert, thank you!”

we may be thinking too much about it but what if. what if gege also plans to have a solo concert some time in the future? i know both of them are so focused on being actors but they also have so much passion for performing.

i’m imagining how they both have a bucket list and one entry there is to have a solo concert. i hope we get to witness that come true ✨

FINALLY, with yibo’s post earlier, we saw him playing tennis. so tennis boyfriends at it again! 🎾

video source

END.

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 15: (fucking finally)

prev. chap here

back in the present, sort of ollie-centric, reeve is bewildered, nero gets several surprises in a row

RATING: teen and up there are several swears

WARNINGS: baby drooling a lot, giant spiders

NOTES: er-ge (ahr-guh): second elder brother, gege (guh-guh): elder brother affectionate. ollie's baby babble uses these terms

this man needs several lifetimes of vacations

darkness tentacles cause i think they're neat

“Stop that,” Sephiroth scolded. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m getting some juice,” Nero replied.

“If you want something, ask politely.” 

“Why is it more polite to ask someone else to pass me something, when I can get it myself?” 

“Because it’s rude to reach across the breakfast table with your disgusting tentacles.”

Cid, who had never heard Sephiroth sound even mildly annoyed since he’d begun constantly being here, looked up from his bowl of eggs and rice. “What’s goin’ on, you two?”

“My brother is jealous because I slept with our father,” Nero cheerfully announced, as one of his darkness tendrils poured juice into his glass, from the carafe.

Cloud choked on his coffee, Ollie burbled gleefully, and Vincent pretended not to hear any of it, from behind the week-old edition of the Wutai Times, he was reading. 

“Don’t say ambiguous things to intentionally cause misunderstandings,” Sephiroth said, tugging the carafe from the tentacle’s grasp.

“You know, Sephi had a duel with my brother Weiss, once,” Nero intimated to Cloud.

“Your older brothers fought each other?” Cloud asked curiously. “I didn’t know that. When?”

“It was years ago, when Weiss was sixteen. Shinra broadcast it on live television.”

“Holy shit. How’d that go?” 

“Sephi was the favorite to win, but Weiss nearly killed him,” Nero smiled beatifically. “In the end, he had to cheat. Isn’t that right, Sephi?”

“What did I just say about intentionally causing misunderstandings?” Sephiroth replied flatly. “You are mischaracterizing the situation.” 

“Oh? Then do correct me.” 

“I never wanted to fight Weiss. I was called back from an important mission and forced to participate in a product demonstration, for the executives. Hojo deceived him and used an implanted control chip, which was the product, to cripple him, halfway through the fight. The point was to demonstrate its effectiveness to the board.”

“And how very effective it was,” Nero sneered. “By the way, did you know that Genesis visited us, in Deepground, before the fight? He sparred with Weiss, and gave him tips on how to beat you. He said it was time you were knocked down a peg.”

Sephiroth’s brow knit and his jaw tensed, but he ignored the taunt, and spooned some cubed peaches into Ollie’s bowl. 

“Nero, that’s enough,” Vincent’s deep voice said from behind the newspaper. “No reason to needle your brother’s old wounds.”

“Sorry, father,” Nero replied dutifully.

“I liked it better when you sulked in your bedroom all day,” Sephiroth muttered.

Breakfast continued in silence, but for Ollie’s cooing and babbling, and the occasional rustle of Vincent turning the page of his paper. All the while, unobserved by anyone, a spider-silk-thin strand of darkness had been creeping along under the dining table, climbing the leg of the baby’s high chair, like a vine.

Now, it slithered up and coiled around a chubby ankle, disappearing inside a lavender sock. Ollie gave a loud squeal and kicked her legs, but when Sephiroth looked, assuming she’d dropped some peaches into her lap, there was nothing amiss. 

“Are you all done, Ollie?” Cloud asked. “You want to go play?”

“Mama,” Ollie agreed, reaching out her little hands, which were dripping sticky peach juice. 

Nero rested his chin in his palm “Why does she call you mama, when Sephi is clearly the maternal one?” 

“Uh…” Cloud looked at Sephiroth, who was carefully cleaning the baby’s face and hands with a damp cloth, while she wiggled and refused to cooperate. “Who knows. Maybe because I’m small?”

“Why are you so small?”

“You know we’re the same size, right?”

“Yes, but I was born in prison, and suffered from severe malnutrition, as a child.”

“I was malnourished, too. Grew up poor, with no father, in a tundra climate. My mother and I hunted, as much as we could, but…we weren’t welcome in the men’s hunting parties. They’d clear out most of the small game, before we got a chance. Got pretty rough. Especially in winter.”

“So, it was just you and your mother against the world,” Nero sighed. “You must miss her.”

Sephiroth stood abruptly and left the room.

“Why do you have to say shit like that?” Cloud said irritably, after he’d gone. “You know it’s a sensitive subject.”

Nero looked genuinely taken aback. “I was only asking casually. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. Whatever. Come on, Ollie. Let’s go find gege and we’ll all play a game.” So saying, Cloud gathered up the squirming baby and left the dining room. 

“I know you didn’t intend to be malicious,” Vincent said, folding up his paper. “Just be more careful, from now on.”

Nero crossed his arms sullenly. “I was being careful. No matter what I say, it’s wrong.”

“How d’you think Sephiroth’s gonna act, when you been primin’ him with all that shit talk?” Cid pointed out. “He’s got no reason to give ya the benefit of the doubt.”

“He’s just too sensitive,” Nero groused. “I don’t cry about it, if people mention the horrible things I’ve done. I don’t care.”

“But he does care,” Cid said. “He ain’t you. Can’t judge other people by how you feel.”

“People are so confusing,” Nero said dolefully.

“Tell me about it,” Vincent snorted. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to learn how to interact with other humans, to little avail. I’m afraid I’m still as lost as you are.”

The doorbell rang just then, and Cid got up, tossing his napkin into his bowl. “That oughta be Reeve.”

Vincent nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll join you once I’ve cleaned up, in here.”

“I’ll do it,” Nero said, at which both men turned and stared at him. He scowled. “What? I’m not an idiot, I can figure out how to deal with a few dishes.”

“Well…alright,” Vincent said tentatively. “Thank you, Nero.”

Still looking understandably dubious, the two men exited the dining room. 

Rather than get up to begin clearing the table, Nero remained sitting exactly as he was. Instead, several dozens of darkness tendrils snaked out of his skin markings, waving and wriggling, like the fronds on nightmare anemones. 

At a thought from him, they descended upon the table in a writhing swarm, and sucked up every item: plates, bowls, coffee cups, half-full glasses of juice, even the napkins and silverware. 

Having enveloped everything, the tendrils darted off to the kitchen, with lumps of various shapes visible in their ‘throats’, as if they were pythons that had swallowed prey. Only the prey was shaped like forks and mugs and bowls, and the like. 

The leftover food and other refuse never reappeared, but the flatware and dishware were all spit back out, into their proper places in the cupboards and drawers; every single item sparkling clean, as if they’d all been scoured and polished (which they had been, by the ravenous darkness of the all-consuming void).

The entire process took about sixty seconds, and that was only because the tentacles didn’t know where everything went, and had to figure it out by trial and error. Meanwhile, a few of the larger ones slithered all over the table, leaving it immaculate, as well, while Nero sat perfectly still, apparently in deep concentration.

His mind was not on the mundane task, however, which the tentacles were perfectly able to complete without his attention, but on his father. Despite his taunting Sephiroth with it, he was still reeling inwardly, from the flying lesson in the rain, with Chaos, the other day. And even more so from having awakened, the next morning, to find he’d been sleeping in his father’s arms. 

His knee-jerk reaction was anger, with himself, to have been so weak and vulnerable, in front of the man. But he couldn’t deny that he was moving closer to his goal. The red-cloaked bastard was even beginning to trust him, a little. His reaction when Nero upset Sephiroth, just now, was proof enough that he at least wasn’t considering him guilty till proven innocent.

Though, to be fair, Vincent never treated Nero that way. From the moment he set foot in this house, he was pretty much unsupervised. They’d even let him go out to a grocery store full of civilians. Since he was finished cleaning up, he sent a few thread-thin tendrils slinking into the living room, to listen in.

“Good to see ya, Reeve,” Cid’s voice was saying.

“Thank you for coming,” Vincent’s added. 

“Anything for you two,” replied a pleasant, mature, male voice. “Sorry it took me a couple of days to get here. I was in Midgar, with Rufus, putting together a redevelopment plan for the city’s infrastructure. It’s going to be a hell of a lot of work.”

Cid sounded dubious. “Why do you look so happy about it?”

“Well…I love my job. I mean, my real job as an engineer, now that i don’t have to be Shinra’s single voice of sanity. Rebuilding is going to keep a lot of people employed, for many years, and the result will be a safer, cleaner place for everyone to live. What’s not to be happy about?”

“You’re a weird dude, Reeve,” Cid observed. 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Reeve laughed.

“Nothing wrong with being weird,” Vincent’s low-toned voice put in. “Nero, if you’re going to eavesdrop, anyway, you may as well come in here and meet our guest.”

Shit. Busted. 

Having no choice, now, Nero retracted his spy tentacles and went gloomily to the living room. The visitor looked pretty much exactly like he’d sounded. A tall, forty-something man, with greying, dark-brown hair and a neatly kept beard. A little older than his picture in the Shinra company directory, but good looking, overall.

“You must be Nero,” he said. “I’m Reeve Tu—”

“I know who you are, Director Tuesti,” Nero cut him off icily. “What’s a Shinra dog doing in my father’s house?”

“Sorry, Reeve,” Vincent interposed. “Nero wasn’t aware that you’re a friend. Nero, Reeve is with the WRO now, not Shinra. And even when he was, he worked with us and helped us.”

“Reeve, hey,” Cloud’s voice said, from the hallway arch, as he came in, carrying Ollie. “Been a while.”

“Oh, Cloud, it’s good to see you,” Reeve answered cheerfully, then his expression changed and he went white as a sheet, stumbling backward. “S—Sephiroth! Sephiroth’s right behind you!”

“It’s alright,” Vincent said, materializing beside him, to steady him on his feet. “He’s not here to make trouble.”

“You’re…serious,” Reeve faltered, looking around at the perfectly calm group. “What exactly is going on? How is he here?”

“Uh. This is going to take some explaining,” Cloud said. “You may want to sit down.”

Nero was pretty curious as to how Sephiroth was here, too. From what he could tell, the man wasn’t really alive. He was full of the planet’s pure life force, though, which made no sense at all. Dead things can’t interact with the Planet's energy.

Thus, he listened attentively, while in a clear, concise, and perfectly calm manner, Sephiroth related the entire story to Reeve, in broad strokes:

Jenova’s control over him, his madness and death, his becoming conscious in the lifestream, with no memory left but for those Jenova hadn’t torn away, which were all of hatred and pain. His eventual overpowering of her will. His confrontation with Cloud in the ruins of Shinra Tower, using the life force of the remnants, to manifest himself. 

Then his fight for his very existence, when Chaos and Omega awakened, and how, after they returned to the Planet, he was forcibly rejected from the lifestream. How Cloud found him, how they reached an accord of forgiveness, and how the dormant seed of love, buried deep in both their hearts, sprouted again. 

“It’s a new seed,” Cloud interjected. 

“What?” Reeve asked, bewildered.

“Seph claims the seed was already there, for him, but it wasn’t, for me. It’s a new seed.”

“So you say, now,” Sephiroth returned. “I happen to know that you were already in love with me, when we first met.”

“Yeah, the idea of you. Not the very real asshole you turned out to be.”

Sephiroth tossed his head. “I was not an asshole. Not until the incident.”

“Either way, the main point is that Sephiroth is sane, now,” Cloud said to Reeve. “Oh, shit, I forgot to explain why he’s here, specifically. He’s Vincent’s son.”

Reeve nearly fell over again, despite being seated on the sofa. “He—he’s what?”

“Sephiroth is my biological son,” Vincent confirmed, from where he was leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed. 

Reeve passed a hand over his brow. “So, you have three children? Two of whom are augmented former Shinra personnel?”

“That we know of. Hojo used my DNA to conceive Sephiroth before I died, and Nero afterward. There’s no telling how many others he made.”

“Sephiroth wasn’t conceived…you know. The traditional way?”  

Vincent didn’t answer. 

“Uh. Sorry,” Reeve said sheepishly. “That was a weird question.”

“Speakin’ of weird, why’d ya bring the cat-bot?” Cid piped up.

“She has the database you wanted.”

Cid squinted at the perpetually cheerful-looking feline robot. “Uh…she?”

“Why don’t we go out to Cid’s workshop, to talk about this,” Vincent cut in. “I’m sure the boys are tired of listening to us old men.”

This was an obvious excuse, since it had been Sephiroth doing most of the talking, but it was good enough. Carrying the cat-bot on his shoulder, Reeve followed the pair out the back door.

“So, you are some kind of ghost,” Nero said to Sephiroth, when they were gone. “That explains a lot of things.”

“I am not a ghost,” Sephiroth replied tranquilly. “My original body was destroyed, but I never died. This body is just as real. It’s made of physical matter and sustained by my will, as well as the Planet’s life force. Technically, I am more alive than you are.”

“Unless your connection is severed,” Nero said, narrowing his eyes shrewdly. “Right?”

“Nero, don’t,” Cloud warned.

“But I wonder, is it enough to be remembered? Or must you also be loved?”

Sephiroth’s eyes flashed. “What are you implying?”

“You say your body is sustained by your will, but is that true? Is it not actually…his will?” Nero turned his scarlet eyes on Cloud. 

“Mama,” Ollie put in helpfully. 

“All the pain he caused,” Nero went on. “All the destruction and suffering and death, and still, you didn’t let go. No matter what atrocities he committed, you couldn’t make yourself let go of him. Could you.”

Sephiroth opened his mouth to say something, but Cloud interrupted. “No. I couldn’t.”

Nero’s catlike pupils dilated imperceptibly. “And you don’t regret it, do you. Even knowing that you holding onto him, acting as his tether to existence, cost thousands of human lives.”

Cloud’s blue eyes were glistening, but he set his jaw defiantly. “No. I don’t regret it. Not for a goddamn minute.”

“I think…I'm beginning to understand you, Cloud Strife. We are both people whose love outweighs every other consideration, including so-called righteousness and morality.”

“Love makes its own law. Isn't that what you believe?”

“It is. I'm glad to know that you believe it, too. For my brother's sake.”

Nero turned to go upstairs, but at that moment, he felt something he hadn’t, in a long time. It was a tug! Through the darkness! It was extremely faint, almost undetectable, but it was a tug! That was the way Weiss used to connect to him, he’d never mistake it! 

He stopped where he was, breathless, quivering with anticipation, every nerve fiber on high alert, waiting to feel it again. Unfortunately, Ollie had begun jabbering loudly in Cloud’s arms, and it was quickly evolving into a fussy noise, which was frustratingly distracting. Nero needed to go to his room, where he had at least marginal privacy. 

He stepped onto the bottom stair, but as he did, he felt the tug again, and froze in place. This time he caught hold of it, and connected to the darkness. The world around him dissolved into inky blackness.

“Weiss! Weiss!” he shouted, into the formless void. “Brother, where are you! I felt your pull and I came! Brother! Weiss!!”

As he was calling out for his brother, he felt a tickling sensation and looked down. There, at his ethereal feet, grabbing at his shin with its forelegs, was a black spider, the size of a housecat.

Its legs were rather stubby, its carapace was covered with thick, plushy, black fuzz, and its eight crimson eyes were too large, in proportion to its head. The result was that it looked weirdly adorable, despite being an abyssal abomination. 

Nero curled his lip in disgust, shaking the thing off his spirit projection’s leg. “What the fuck are you? Why are you here?”

The big, glowing eyes blinked stupidly up at him, but he felt a wave of exuberantly friendly intent, coming from it, as it reached up and began to prod him with its palps, again. It must be a juvenile, and unable to communicate in more complex terms. That would explain its inane cuteness.

“But how did something so small and stupid escape from Chaos, and get into my void?” he asked, rhetorically. 

The thing kept batting his shin and shooting waves of idiotic enthusiasm at him. 

“I’m looking for my brother. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

When he said the word ‘brother’, he felt a strong pulse of affectionate intent, from the thing, and its forelegs smacked him even more excitedly. 

For half a second, he almost thought the creature might be Weiss, but dismissed that idea, immediately. Weiss wasn’t a spider, on the other side, and this thing was made of darkness, like him. It was probably just some random anomaly, generated by Chaos.

“Why don’t you go away?” he said irritably. “I’m here to look for Weiss, I don’t need any annoyances tagging along.”

The thing stopped jabbing at him, pushed itself up on its hind legs, then toppled theatrically onto its back, where it proceeded to flail its legs about, exuding unbearable woe, as if nine generations of its ancestors had been wronged. 

“Fine, whatever. You can hang around with me, just don’t make any noise,” Nero said, as his body warped and expanded, swiftly becoming the massive, nightmare spider of the void. “And don’t annoy me, or I’ll toss you out of here.”

The little spider vibrated with joy as it skittered up one of his enormous legs, and positioned itself happily on top of his head. It was physically impossible, of course, for a thing the size of a cat to traverse his planet sized body, but this was the void, and they were conceptual beings. When he grew, the little spider grew, in direct proportion, so it still seemed the same size, relative to him.

For time untold, the colossal spider traversed the endless darkness, with the little spider perched atop his head, searching desperately for any trace of Weiss. But no matter how he called out to him, there was no answer. No sign of his light, to be found. 

Sensing his deep dejection, the little spider (who he’d entirely forgotten about, till that moment) wiggled its legs and radiated comfort, like a miniature hot-water bottle. Or an impossibly titanic hot-water bottle, depending on one’s perspective.

“Maybe he’s not strong enough, to keep up the connection, and had to drop it right away,” Nero sighed, as he shrank back down to his humanoid form. “All I can do is wait, and hope he’ll reach out again soon.”

The cat-sized spider on top of his head patted his face sympathetically, with two fuzzy, clawed forelegs. He pulled the thing off and set it on the (purely metaphorical) ground. 

“I’m going, now. I don’t know how you got in, but don’t wander around this place, alone. You could get lost.”

The thing bucked up and waved its pedipalps, sending an impression that it understood. With a nod, Nero winked out of the void.

In the material world, he was still standing with one foot on the bottom stair, and no more than a few seconds had passed. Ollie was yowling and Cloud was trying to soothe her, while Sephiroth hurried away to warm a bottle. 

“It’s ok, Ollie, gege will come back in minute,” Cloud reasoned.

“Ah-guh,” she wailed piteously. “Ah-guh guh guh!”

“I think she wants you,” Cloud said to Nero, who looked back with a sneer. 

“How can you tell any of that drool-machine’s noises apart? Half the blabbering she does sounds like that.”

“Guh! Guh! Ahhh-guhhh!” Ollie howled, even louder, stretching her little hands toward him and struggling in Cloud’s arms. 

Nero almost laughed at the stupidness of her stubby arms and legs flailing about, but then he was struck dead-on by a sensation like stepping off a short stair, and finding it’s a cliff. 

“Oh, fuck. Chaos is going to fucking kill me.”

Cloud didn’t hear him, over Ollie’s howling. “What?” 

“I said…I’ll h—hold her,” Nero managed to make himself pronounce aloud.

“Are you sure?” Cloud asked, doubtfully.

“Yes. Just give her to me,” Nero said, sticking his arms out, and trying not to grimace too obviously.

The squirming bundle was pushed into his arms and Cloud adjusted his grip to the proper position, before he let go. There. He was doing it. He was holding a human infant. There would almost certainly be some horrifying or disgusting consequences, but—

“Hey, it worked,” Cloud said. “She stopped crying.”

“Ah-guh,” Ollie’s suspiciously chipper voice squeaked, close to his ear. 

Nero realized he’d had his eyes shut and opened them. Cloud was grinning smugly, and Sephiroth was standing beside Cloud, with the bottle, thunderstruck.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding my baby sister,” Nero retorted. “What does it look like?”

“But…why?”

“I thought it sounded like she wanted him to,” Cloud explained. “Seems like I was right.”

“Gege, ah-guh, mamamamama,” Ollie babbled, grabbing handfuls of Nero's long, jet-black hair.

Nero very clearly and distinctly felt impressions of Sephiroth, himself, and then Cloud, as she made each of the sounds. “So, you really are calling him mama. Huh.”

“Ah-ah-ah guh-guh-guh,” she said, and blithely stuffed a chubby fistful of his hair into her mouth. 

“Cut it out, gremlin!” Nero protested. “I don’t want your gross slobber in my hair!”

Ollie looked at him solemnly, then spat out the lock of hair with an explosive ‘pffbbbt!’, spraying drool all over his face.

He stood frozen, blinking in stupefaction, while Cloud nearly went blue stifling his laughter.

“Well, I couldn’t possibly separate you two, now,” Sephiroth said. “You’ve clearly bonded.”

Nero glowered at him, as darkness tendrils snaked out and indignantly cleaned the drool from his face, which made Ollie squeal delightedly. Before anyone could react, she grabbed one and yanked joyously on it.

“No, Ollie, don’t!” Cloud exclaimed, but Sephiroth stopped him. 

“It won’t harm her. She’s a child of Chaos.”

“And I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” Nero scowled. “What do you think of me?”

Cloud squinted. “Uh…do you really want to know?” 

Nero ignored him.

Sure enough, the tentacle appeared to have no ill will toward the infant. It just lay there, wriggling helplessly, as Ollie held onto it with both hands and gnawed on it with her pink gums, like corn on the cob. It looked rather disturbing, but the upside was, no matter how much she drooled all over it, the tendril would just absorb it, so it was far less messy than all her usual chew toys (which included but were not limited to, her actual teething rings, her other toys, her own hands, and people’s clothing and hair, especially Sephiroth’s).

“Well, it looks like Ollie has a new favorite,” Cloud sighed. “I guess I’m just an old shoe, now.” 

“Nonsense,” Sephiroth reassured him. “If you were an old shoe, she’d be chewing on you, right now.”

[chososbabymama]

shybassist!choso x blk reader; MDNI!!

[CW// referenced child abuse, swearing, implied NSFW]

gege been deprivin us of choso content so i made my own !

this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i want it gONE

ShyBassistChoso who first sees you at a gig his band played at. it was at a local festival and your best friend was a huge fan of them and their lead singer, satoru. as soon as you had seen choso, something about him... intrigued you. the domineering energy that stemmed from his appearance was a complete opposite of his actions. as he fiddled with his base, it was almost as if he was trying to make himself smaller. you started to look a little harder at him. the way the cutoff t-shirt hugged his frame in a way that left you wondering what it looked like off. the way the dark material of the cargo pants made his legs seem miles long. but what mad you coo internally were the cute little twin pigtails that sat neatly atop his head. everything about the bass player made you want to know more. shoulders hunched in concentration, you couldn't help but peer even closer at him from your spot as he tuned and plucked the stings with an arousing expertise. as if he could feel your lustfully curious gaze, the man lifted his head and scanned the crowd before meeting your gaze. his dark orbs widened in surprise at your intensity. you've never been subtle about the things you want... and you thought it best to make that known. so you wriggle manicured fingers in his direction and flash a wide grin in hopes he'd respond. as soon as the man realized your attention was TRULY on him, his whole face flushed into the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen before he looked back down as his bass and started to fiddle with it.. it was then you knew, you HAD to have him.

ShyBassistChoso who felt the heat of your gaze on him throughout the WHOLE set. at first he thought it was the heat from the stage lights, but as he continuously locked eyes with you between songs, the burning sensation in his ears hadnt gone away. you made choso nervous, and that fuckin terrified him. the last person he'd chosen to get romantically involved with had done great harm to him and his family (something choso didn't take lightly at all). so when you and your friend had gotten backstage passes to meet the band, his anxiety was through the roof. now that you were in their dressing room he had a better view of you and god you were just so fuckin pretty. the long floral skirt your wore had slipped down your waist a bit from all the movement in the crowd, revealing a sliver of your tummy. your two-toned black and red lips were coated in a generous amount of gloss. i wonder if she tastes sweet... choso swallowed hard, hands twitching with a fierce desire to touch. by the time you had introduced yourself to the other 4 choso had calmed down enough to stop his hands from sweating, but fuck his ears were still so red... you had stood in front of him with a warm smile on your face before sticking a hand out for him to shake.

'hi, im y/n. i really liked your set earlier! best show i've been to in a while.'

choso had quickly wiped his hand on his pants again for quick measure before grabbing yours. the soft pads of your fingers were a comforting contrast to his calloused palms, run down from years of practice.

'h-hi. im choso, i play bass... i really a-appreciate you coming, it means a lot to me- us! i mean us...'

choso once again felt his body grow warm as you threw back your head and let out a surprised laugh. your smile had gotten even wider as you stared at him with interested eyes.

'im glad i could make it then, i love supporting local artists. my best friend has a thing for gojo... as you can see'

you had pointed to the side where your friend was sitting next to gojo, LITERALLY twirling her braids as he spoke lowly in her ear. you roll your eyes fondly before turning back to choso, seeing him flicker his gaze up and down at you made your head tilt in confusion. what's he doing... his pigtails shook as he coughed nervously and reached to scratch the back of his neck.

's-so who are you... into... in the band?' he managed to make eye contact with you for all of 2 seconds before he shyly avoided your shocked gaze.

as you processed his words you took a mental assessment of the man in front of you. you could see this embarrassment had spread all the way to the back of his neck. from what you could tell during his time on stage, choso is a man filled with passion. seeing the way his eyes lit up during solos and accompaniments from his fellow bandmates was exhilarating. the way he expertly strummed his bass, it was almost as easy as breathing for him. he may not have been the lead singer, but choso dominated the stage in a way that made you wanna serve the pussy on a platter al dente.

ShyBassistChoso who as soon as the set was over, became... so fuckin soft? not in a toxic-masculinity kinda way! but in a overwhelming way that made you wanna scream and punch a wall. when the group began unpackin on stage, the crowd saw a small blur of pink hair zip through and fling itself on the platform.

'BIG BROTHER THAT WAS SO COOL!!!' you and everyone else in the building watched as choso easily slung his bass behind his back before opening his arms; catching a little boy with pink hair, wild eyes, and the cutest smile on his face.

everyone audibly coo'd at the sweet display, watching the little guy wrap his arms around his brothers neck and nuzzle into him. the look that choso gave his little brother was a sight to see. eyes once filled with adrenaline held nothing but fondness for the pinkette in his arms. cocky smirk falling into a small gentle smile, booming vocals being replaced with a deep gentle tone filled with love. choso was responding to his brother with matched enthusiasm, ruffling his hair before putting him on his shoulders and continuing to unpack while entertaining the little guy. it was something that filled your chest with warmth, watching the way choso handled the boy was enough to want to know more.

he's a family man... i could provide....

even now as you maintained conversation with choso, you could tell he was still keeping a watchful eye of his little brother bouncing around the room. is wasn't long before he made his way back to his brother, climbing and getting comfortable on choso's lap. he looked toward you with wide eyes, looking at you with a sense of wonder you only see in children. he quickly fixed a bright smile on his face and stuck out a hand.

"hi! im yuuji, choso's my big brother! you're really pretty, are you a gift from god?" the way he was completely serious...

you had covered your mouth to conceal your amusement, but choso could see your wide smile no matter how much you tried to hide it.

"no sweetheart i'm sorry, im not. why would you think that?" you giggled, yuuji really was adorable. you bent down to meet his gaze and tilt your head in fond confusion.

he raised his finger up and spoke with childlike authority,

"well uncle 'toru said that pretty people like him 'could only be a gift from god' so i thought you must be like uncle!" your head jerks back in surprise and you laugh as choso whips his head to glare at his bandmate (satoru was pointedly ignoring choso and he continued to speak casually with your friend... is he starting to sweat..?).

"i-i'm so sorry... sometimes i'm not there to monitor what they say around him. they love him no doubt... but gojo is the most unserious person i've ever met, so i can't say im surprised honestly."

choso had begun to laugh with you and yuuji had decided to entertain himself by playing with some drumsticks he picked up. as you watched choso reposition his brother to make sure he was secure you decided to answer his question.

"well... to answer your question-" choso's head snapped up quickly and he gazed at you eagerly... how cute.

"-im into this one guy in your band. tall... dark hair... really good with music..." choso slumped slightly, thinking you were referring to suguru, the drummer. untill he heard you continue,

"he also has the coolest tattoo across his nose and the sweetest little brother who called me a 'gift from god', i was actually thinkin about askin for his number, you think i have a shot?"

ShyBassistChoso who had once again flushed, but this time he was not nearly as nervous. he'd always been someone who valued his family more than anything, found included. his ex-partners had never completely understood that about him. and poor yuuji would try his best to get along with those people, but children aren't stupid. they know when they're not wanted. choso's last boyfriend had been particularly nasty, saying terrible things to yuuji and even going so far as to threaten him with physical violence in order to damage their relationship. after that, yuuji had changed. he was withdrawn and would hold himself back, not wanting get in the way of his brothers happiness. it came to a head when choso came home early to see his ex push yuuji to the ground, he'd raised his hand the smack the boy too but by then choso had flown forward and beat the shit out of the man. his ex tried to excuse his shitty behavior, citing several times that yuuji was a bother but choso wasn't having it. told the bastard to get out of his house and never come back (choso had taken all his ex's stuff out the apartment and burned it in a fire before sending him a picture of it an blocking his number, but not before taking the bastard to court and pressing charges).

ShyBassistChoso who watched you ruffle yuuji's hair (with his permission of course) with the softest smile on your face. you were usually awkward with kids, but yuuji was easy to talk to. seeing you with him made him feel...warm.

after all, he IS a family man....

maybe it was too early to say, but something about the way that you handled yuuji made him soft in ways he couldn't really explain. maybe things with you could be good. better, even. ever since that last bastard choso has done everything he could to make sure yuuji knew that nothing was more important than him... but maybe there was room for one more? choso closed that part of himself off a while ago, but meeting you has given him a small sense of...hope? yuuji had begun to play an interesting game of patty-cake (that he totally didn't just make up) with you, and you were gladly entertaining him.

ShyBassistChoso looked towards you and decided that he was done shying away from new possibilities. he smiled in your direction,

"yeah.. i think you have a real good shot."

THE END

[hulijingemperor2]

After the party~~

Meng Shi: anything you want to say about my two grandsons, Master Qiren.

Lan qiren: no, Huanghou.

Meng shi: I know your sister-in-law. And she used to tell me all about your strict and archaic ways.

Lan qiren: archaic??

Meng shi: yes.

And I didn't like how you put her under house arrest.

Lan qiren: *staring at her lips and dimples*

Meng shi: why are you Lans like this?

Lan qiren: (am I being seduced by a hulijing)

Because you're pretty.

Meng Shi: excuse me?!

Lan qiren: sorry.

Meng Shi: bro, you're my Yao'er's uncle in law.

Sisi: empress doesn't like you. You old man.

Lan qiren: *cough* it slipped! It slipped!

But you are indeed pretty.

Meng shi: thank you, *walks off*

Sisi: disgusting.

But better than guangshan.

Lan qiren: (Meng Shi kind of smells nice. Gosh what am I saying. I need to go reflect)

~~

Later at night, A-Yao was reclining in his bed while eating leftover finger snacks from the party.

Fuying: *fanning him*

Team dimple: *entering*

Su she: Huangdi.

Xue yang: you look so relaxed, Jiggy.

Mo xuanyu: you and leftovers? That's surprising.

Yao: they're gourmet.

Mo xuanyu: now that makes sense!

Xue yang: he's a diva after all.

Yao: *smiles* where were you guys.

Mo xuanyu: putting on perfume. *blushing* and a little makeup.

Su she: cuz we want to spend the night with you.

Xue yang: and maybe give you a little kiss.

Yao: aw, how lovely.

But my team d don't need all that.

*hands his attendant his plate, then signaled them to exit*

Mo xuanyu: *sits next to him*  Yao gege. * lifts chin and kisses him* how's my makeup?

Yao: *strokes his hair* beautiful as ever, xuanyu.

Mo xuanyu: *blushing*

Su she: boss, lemme groom your fox tail.

Yao: go ahead, darling. It's resting on a pillow.

Su she: begins to brush his floof*

Xue yang: *caressing A-Yao's dimples* Yaoyao, do your fox tail get tired? Why does it need a pillow.

Yao: A-Yang. Don't you think that every part of me should be pampered.

Xue yang: that's right.

Mo xuanyu: well deserved.

Su she: Huangdi, I didn't like how Lan qiren just barged into your party! Like how dare he.

Told you those Lans don't have manners.

Xue yang: lol, like everything is just a facade for them. 

Su she: the Lans had insulted my Huangdi.

Yao: team D, relax. And I have fixed everything.

Su she: if that icy Lan zhan comes here, I swear, I'll fight him.

My emperor can adopt whoever he wants.

Mo xuanyu: the guy adopted Sizhui afterall.

Yao: mmm. I actually have no enmity against the lans.

But I think that certain clan members should stay out of my business if they know what's good for them.

Xue yang: exactly.

Mo xuanyu: team dimple will deal with them.

Yao: I really don't care about Hanguang Jun's reaction to me adopting Jingyi.

Su she: poor child is like a young me. Looking up to Lan zhan, but not being recognized by him.

Yao: oh my.

However he and Rusong will be treated equally.

Mo xuanyu: even though we like Song'er more than him.

Xue yang: we're Team Song'er too.

Su she: we can't change.

Yao: guys why are you so savage. *laughing*

Stop. Favoritism isn't allowed here.

Su she: yes Huangdi.

Mo xuanyu: ok Yao gege.

Xue yang: Song'er is savage just like you.

Yao: mn.

Su she: Huangdi, would you teach Jingyi the collection of turmoil? Only Song'er and I know it.

Yao: and it will remain like that. I'm not teaching anyone else.

Su she: whew! That would have been a disaster if someone else knew how to play it.

Yao: I know right.

Yao: team dimple, do you remember that thing we made with my enemies and threats.

Mo xuanyu: of course Yao gege.

Dage should watch his back.

Su she: it's Zixun we can and will attack.

Xue yang: while guangshan is a broke ass sack.

Mo xuanyu: sect leader yao should count his days.

Xue yang: and Huaisang should change his ways.

Mo xuanyu: these goons better count to ten.

Su she: hope that A-Yao don't come before his henchmen.

Yao: haha, awesome. Team d, we're so fabulous.

Xue yang: hell yea.

Su she: obviously.

Mo xuanyu: that's when we have a fabulous boss.

*kisses* 

Xue yang: you're so powerful. *lifts chin* aren't you.

Mo xuanyu: emperor guangyao has such a great ring to it.

Su she: it fits like a glove.

Xue yang: makes him sound more hot.

Yao: *smiling*

Xue yang: *kisses* Yao huangdi.

Su she: *kisses hand* emperor guangyao.

Mo xuanyu: *fondles A-Yao's thigh* you're really sexy.

Yao: guys stop.

Su she: *kisses A-Yao's dimple*

*the door knocks*

Trio: *gasps* how dare they!

Yao: *calmly* who is it?

Xichen: Xichen, A-Yao Huangdi.

Mo xuanyu: lemme go answer him.

Su she: doesn't he have respect for team dimple and my Huangdi.

Mo xuanyu: *opens the door* lipsy. Yao gege is busy.

Xichen: I know that A-Yao relaxes at this hour, xuanyu.

Mo xuanyu: can you come back another time, Lan lips. He's busy with team dimple.

Xue yang: do you want to make out with me instead. *wink* I promise I'll smell like Jiggy.

Su she: Huangdi doesn't want to be disturbed.

Yao: *sigh* oh dear.

Yao: *confronts him.* Huanhuan. *grabs his hands* what's up.

Xichen: just wanted a glimpse of my emperor.

Yao: *blushing*

Xue yang: you seen him. Now go sleep.

Mo xuanyu: it's way past your bedtime, Xichen.

Xichen: it's 8:30.

Trio: *dramatically gasps*

Su she: you think you're smart, Lan!!

Yao: team dimple. Behave.

Trio: *pouting*

Yao: come have some tea, Huanhuan.

Team dimple: *plotting in the corner of the room*

Mo xuanyu: I'm officially in my revenge era.

Su she: we should seek revenge on Xichen for snatching our A-Yao.

Xue yang: shall we chop him up?

Mo xuanyu: no. But we should give him a piece our mind.

Yao: *serves him tea*

Xichen: *sips*

*sneezes*

Yao: *laughing fondly* Xichen, are you ok?!

Xichen: I'm fine.

I feel like someone is talking about me.

Yao: it's not team dimple for sure.

Team d: *pretending to be oblivious*

Xichen: lol. A-Yao. *rests his hand on his* I'm so happy for your family and empire. It's beautiful just like the patriarch. And that patriarch is non other than you

Yao: thanks, er ge. And remember, you're part of the family too.

Xichen: that's the greatest fact.

A-Yao, I assure you that Jingyi is very intelligent and talented but a bit mischievous.

He sometimes finds it hard to obey rules, hence if he does, I'll like to apologize.

Yao: don't be crazy. You don't need to apologize for anything. Yi'er is a marvelous addition to my family.

And he's young. He doesn't have responsibilities.

Xichen: mn.

I, I love you, A-Yao.

Yao: love you too.

Team dimple: *counting to 9:00pm*

Xichen and A-Yao: *looking into each other's eyes*

Xichen: *kneels and puts A-Yao's hands in his*

any plans for tomorrow, Huangdi?

Yao: same state affairs, and hopefully I can spend time with my sons.

Xichen: marvelous! You're so brilliant.

Mo xuanyu: 6....5....

Xue yang; 4.....3....2

Su she: 1! It's 9pm. Goodnight Lan lips.

Xichen: ugh, why are you three so entitled.

Mo xuanyu: no reason. And we love Yao gege.

Xichen: *kisses A-Yao* go get some rest.

You have been hosting a lot. *lovingly grabs his hands*

Yao: mhm. Goodnight er ge.

*kisses*

Trio: *staring at Xichen, while being jealous*

Xichen: goodnight team dimple.

Mo xuanyu: goodnight. And goodbye. Don't come back.

Xichen: oh my.

Mo xuanyu: sorry. I'm feeling horny for Yao gege again.

Yao: *shakes his head*

~~~

Next day!

Rusong and Jingyi were on their way to meet A-Yao, who had just finished state affairs.

Jingyi: Rusong, my staff is so cool! I feel so pampered!

And they're so good at martial arts. Are yours like that as well?

Rusong: yep. All staff who work closest to us know how to fight.

But lower servants are unable to. And the cool thing is that some of our personal staff look like they don't know martial arts and cultivation. Tricking theopponents.

Jingyi: that's so smart!

Rusong: our staff also have their personal weapons, other than Swords.

Mine would use razor guqin strings, A-Die's staff uses the same, as well as music cultivation and blinding powder, yours maybe use guqin strings too, and Nainai's would just use the katana, illusions and talisman.

Jingyi: your hulijings are top tier.

Rusong: keep that between us.

Enemies think they're harmless.

Jingyi: dude, can I see your guqin strings.

Rusong: *pulls it out of his sleeve and stretches it* sure.

Jingyi: *astonished*

Rusong: A-Die says that if I cultivate some more, I'll be able to store it in my body like him.

Jingyi: he could do that?!!!!!

Rusong: duh. He pulls it out of his wrist.

Jingyi: does it hurt him?

Rusong: A-Die got used to the pain.

Jingyi: woww.

Lemme touch it.

Rusong: no don't. It's really sharp.

Jingyi: have you attacked anyone with it?

Rusong: of course.

No one can mess with the hulijing Dianxia.

Jingyi: mhm.

Rusong: now let's go meet A-Die.

~

Meanwhile, A-Yao was finishing up on some affairs.

Yao: yes. I'll definitely get back to you with the reports. 

Huangdi, Zixun is still passing messages while still under house arrest. We believe he's communicating with sect leader Yao.

They want to get back at you.

Yao: why can't this man stop conspiring.

Sources had revealed that sect leader Yao had snuck in and gave him some device which had fox spirits trapped inside.

Yao: I'll have my sons pay him a visit, and set him straight.

Taizi Dianxia will free the hulijings as well, and Yi'er will fight whoever goons that sect leader Yao brought there.

Right huangdi.

Yao: where are they anyways? I want to spend time with them.

Fuying: I'm sure they're on their way.   

To be continued~~

[courtonfire]

Wei Wuxian wakes up from his nap to find his husband making an effort to bury him under fluffy, squirming bunnies.

“Lan Zhan,” he calls, amused “What are you doing?”

Lan Wangji pauses in the middle of setting a black rabbit on his right thigh.

“I am… playing a prank.”

Wei Wuxian bites down on a grin.

“A prank?”

Lan Wangji sets the poor rabbit down and rests back on his heels.

“Mn. Like when you dumped spicy white pepper into my congee so I wouldn’t notice until I ate it.”

Wei Wuxian shoulders quake with the effort to not laugh and disrupt the bunnies. “One of the few times it was worth it to wake up at the same time! Your face turned so red haha!”

Lan Wangji’s brow twitches, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he plucks another poor bunny sniffing near his lap off the ground and dumps it on Wei Wuxian’s face.

Wei Wuxian yelps and scrambles to shoo it off. Thankfully, the bunny has zero interest in making a bed of his face and immediately takes off. Semi-unfortunately, his flailing disrupted all the other bunnies and they are also quick to abandon him.

Lan Wangji frowns at them as they race away. “Aiya, sweetheart, don’t make that face! You know they won’t hold a grudge against you for long. Unlike *someone* I know.”

Wei Wuxian gives him a pointed look.

Lan Wangji refuses to make eye contact or acknowledge any and all unfounded accusations against his character. Wei Wuxian throws his head back in a laugh.

“What am I supposed to do with you, husband?” He grins and props himself up on his elbows. “How did you even come up with this idea? Surely you haven’t been planing it since the pepper incident. That was months ago!”

Lan Wangji finally turns to glare at him.

“Did not. Saw you sleeping on the back hill from a distance and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.”

Wei Wuxian clutches his heart and flops over onto Lan Wangji’s lap.

“Oh poor me! I’m no better than those bunnies. Helpless against my cruel, cruel Er-gege who attacks me in my most vulnerable moments!”

If rolling his eyes was a dignified thing to do, Lan Wangji would certainly do it now. In its place, he tugs lightly on Wei Wuxian’s ponytail.

“Silly man.”

Wei Wuxian stares up at him through his lashes. “Your silly man, though,” he bites his lip against a smile.

Watching Lan Wangji’s pupils dilate at just a few words of flirtation will never get old, Wei Wuxian thinks.

“Mn. Mine,” Lan Wangji agrees with a fond smile. And that is way too sweet for Wei Wuxian not to throw his arms around his neck and tug him down for a kiss.

Lan Wangji goes easily and Wei Wuxian swears the sun flares a little brighter and the air tastes a little sweeter as their lips meet. “I love you,” Wei Wuxian murmurs when they pull back sometime later. “It was a great prank. The best, even.”

Lan Wangji smiles against his lips.

“Mn. I love you too, husband.”

~ The End ❤️~

Just some wangxian fluff before I go to bed ❤️ hope everyone has a good day/night! 😍

[robininthelabyrinth]

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

[dinomight]

Some whumptober prompts: Xiao Hua and blindness, with Hei Xiazi helping him through it --- Ransom or auction and Liu Sang ---- Self-induced injuries to escape and XiuXiu ---- "You're still not dead?" and Pangzi ----"Who did this to you" not sure who the whumpee is but Wu Erbai saying it. I would definitely prefer if it had a happy or at least hopeful ending!

ANDDDDD THAT’S A WRAP!!!! fox my beloved here is the last one, as requested!!! thank you so much for sending these in!!!

24. self-induced injuries to escape

Let it be known that Huo Xiuxiu is not offended that she’s been kidnapped. After all, it’s not her first time, and it certainly won’t be her last; in fact, she’s come to find a certain kind of excitement in it. A bit of spice, if you will, to liven up her week.

What is quite offensive is how absolutely incompetent these particular kidnappers are. It would almost be amusing in a way, if that incompetence hadn’t only kicked in when they were tying her up, and not before they’d beaten Xiao Hua unconscious.

“Hold on,” Xiuxiu mutters under her breath as she works at the ropes binding her wrists with a shard of glass. “Hold on, Xiao Hua-gege, just a little longer.”

The glass isn’t the most elegant solution, she’ll admit, but it was the most easily available. Idiots tied her up with rope, and then threw her in the same corner of this cramped room as a couple of broken bottles. She’s not even sure which is worse: the idea that they were too stupid to notice, or that they thought she was too stupid to notice. Either way, Xiuxiu usually prefers the more delicate methods of slipping her bindings, but considering she’s not even sure Xiao Hua’s still breathing—speed is of the essence, at the moment.

Every movement she makes with the glass forces her to bite down on her lip a little bit harder, until she tastes the same sticky iron there that she can feel coating her palms. She’s not sure how many cuts she’s got at this point. Certainly enough to ruin whatever claim she’d had to pretty hands before today.

(The thought doesn’t bother her that much. Of the two of them, Xiao Hua’s always had the better-looking hands, anyways.)

When the rope finally gives, she has to choke back a sob of relief before tossing it and the glass to the side. Her own bloody palms be damned, she scrambles over to Xiao Hua and holds two trembling fingers under his nose.

Whatever relief she’d felt before is a thin note to the chorus that thunders through her when she feels Xiao Hua exhale. “Don’t scare me like that,” she whisper-yells at him, even though he probably can’t hear it. Not that he’d listen even if he could. She keeps going as she struggles to get him on her back, quietly cursing and panting. “I better be your favorite after this, I better not hear one word about Hei-ye for a week after this, I swear—”

She stops herself when she manages to get over to the door. This is the real moment of truth. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the layout of the place on their way in; their kidnappers could be waiting just outside, or they could’ve all left already.

One breath in. One breath out. Xiuxiu shoves the door open.

“Ah, there you are,” Hei Xiazi greets her from just a couple feet away, in what appears to be a badly lit card-playing room. He’s got one hand curled in a half-conscious guy’s jacket collar, the other pulled back in a fist. As she steps, he releases his grip, letting the guy collapse to the floor, taking a folding chair down with him in a loud crash. There are other bodies scattered around, maybe knocked out, maybe dead, she can’t get a good look in before Hei Xiazi’s in front of her.

Xiuxiu immediately leans forward, letting Xiao Hua slide towards him. “Take him, he needs to get to a doctor, they hit him in the head and I don’t—”

Hei Xiazi stops her word vomit with a cluck of his tongue as he shifts Xiao Hua to his own back with ease. (Bastard.) “Doctor’s the first stop, don’t worry. We’ll get you and Hua-er here fixed up in no time.”

“I’m fine,” she says as she follows him across the room to the exit.

That gets her an immediate snort. “You barely touched me and I can still smell your blood all over my jacket. This is my nicest one, by the way.”

“You’d have gotten blood on it anyways, at some point,” she says, frowning, hands held carefully in front of her.

“Sure, but I’d prefer it not be yours.” Hei Xiazi pauses before the door, craning his neck around to look at her. Even with the sunglasses, his gaze feels heavy. “I’m sorry I was late, meimei.”

For a moment, the words just hang between them, a rare glimpse at the human under the hired gun. Then it cracks, as Hei Xiazi grins and adds, “Next time, be a good little damsel in distress and have some patience, okay?”

Xiuxiu rolls her eyes, but as she steps out after him, she thinks: I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

No need to worry about her own hands when there’s always too more pairs willing to catch her, after all.

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

summary: 22.8k words — it’s a change of scenery, change of friends, and even a change of dynamics. you and megumi go through all of middle school together.

notes: popping this one out at 4am where i live. you bitches better be GRATEFUL after begging for this update 0-0 the next update, before anyone asks, is probably going to take even LONGER bc i have to focus on my levi fic. don’t give me that look — that hasn’t been updated since november 😧

tw: swearing (like, once, i believe).

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2014-2015 sixth grade

'the day's nearly over' you reminded yourself over and over again as you walked down the unfamiliar hallways.

they told you that middle school was different, but nobody warned you about how independent you'd have to be from here on out. you found yourself comparing nearly everything to elementary school, which you were comfortably attending not even six weeks ago. you did not think you'd prefer elementary school, especially not with the monster of a teacher that you were blessed with for two years in a row, but when you found that you didn't share every single class of yours with megumi, you grew more and more disappointed.

you only shared four out of the eight classes you had in a day with him. it didn't help that you ended up picking theatre and he ended up picking art.

so you found yourself walking down the long hallway and taking the first left where you knew the theatre area was (curtesy of the open days you'd attended during the fifth grade) with the comforting conversation you'd had with your mom before she dropped you off at school in the morning.

during the summer, over on friday night dinner at satoru's place (the usual), it had been vaguely discussed how you and megumi would now be able to walk yourselves to your new school without the suffocating presence of one (or even both) of your parents. the excitement of it all came with the thought of starting an entirely new school, though it faded after the familiarity of your normal routine — where your mothers dropped you off with kisses and lots of smiles — changed completely the second your foot crossed over the line that indicated school grounds.

for the first day, your parents insisted on dropping all of you off (uncle ogi included, even though it was only maki and mai's second year here) and before you could follow your friends past the school gate, your mom had rubbed your back soothingly, as if she knew something you didn't.

you realised what it was now — a big change. though it wasn't entirely unpleasant, you just weren't too used to it.

at the end of the corridor, outside of the theatre hall, you could see people going in and out, movement very clear from where you were standing. however, the closer you got, the two stagnant figures at the end if the hall became more clear to you: a boy about your height and a girl taller than the both of you.

you weren't an eavesdropper (in most circumstances) but here, you could tell that there was some uncomfortable tension surrounding the two of them, so you paid attention as you leaned against the wall. you had time till your lesson started, you figured that you could use the spare time for something juicy.

"sorry, no... i don't really know who you are," the girl spoke, her voice soft as silk as she adjusted the singular strap of her bag over her shoulder.

immediately, you became well aware of what was occurring before you — the guy was asking the girl out. and it seemed that, judging from the girl's delicate response, they had only just met.

expecting the boy to back off and leave, you averted your attention to the display board hanging on the opposite wall, showcasing several plays that the school had their theatre students successfully perform. however, even as you found yourself immersed in the talent that was presented in polaroids and printed images, your ears could not block out the heated argument that the boy had then started.

"i never wanted to be with you anyways," he began, expression feral by the time you'd turned your head to see it. "you're a bitch, and you're never gonna get asked out again. i only did it because i felt sorry for you."

your brows had already knitted themselves together as you watched the boy go on a tangent with his displeasure on getting rejected. you silently examined for the next couple of seconds to see if the girl would defend herself, throw in a few casual responses as well, maybe, but when the slightly busy corridor only echoed the conversations of the ignorant teens walking by as if nothing major was happening, you knew she was too polite to say anything.

he opened his nasty mouth once more — perhaps to spew more venomous lies and pointless insults — but was cut off by your cruel intervention.

"look who's talking, with a mouth like yours, that underbite's making it difficult for me to see if you're a camel or human."

you imitated his underbite, jutting out your bottom teeth in a rather aggressive manner. and you weren't done there — you raised a gentle hand over the girl in a hesitant manner, a silent question as to whether you had permission to touch her. when the girl nodded ever so slightly, you continued with your theatrics.

"go out with me," you cried, underbite still exaggeratively visible. "otherwise no one else will!"

"neanderthal-looking motherfucker," a pretty, dark-haired girl added swiftly. you looked over your shoulder, following the sound of the confident voice. she was standing behind the three of you, apparently attentive to what had been happening before her.

you grinned, turning back to the dumbfounded boy once more. "yeah, clear example of failed evolution, guys."

it seemed that the boy had had enough, turning away and scoffing to himself as he pulled up his loose pants and stomped off, fuming. you half expected smoke to flow out of his ears, surprised when he silently disappeared without commotion.

"i hate guys," the short-haired helper commented casually, eyes still focused on the end of the corridor where he'd last been seen by the three of you.

you nodded. "me too."

"thank you so much," the other girl said with a smile, looking more relieved than ever. her blonde hair, which was already tied back in a low ponytail, was tangled between her pale fingers. maybe it was a nervous tic. "he's in my math class, he tried talking to me there too."

"ugh, forget him, you're literally so gorgeous," the fiercer one of the two girls replied with a sigh. "anyway, are you two here for theatre?"

"oh, no, not me," the other girl responded, her pale cheeks now dusted with a light pink. it had been, no doubt, due to the compliment she received. she shook her head. "i left my bag over here so i had to come back and get it, but i'll see you guys around — i'm kat, short for katie."

"y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile.

"i'm nobara," said the dark haired girl.

the pleasantries and small conversations did not last long, for kat had to run off after a short while, hurriedly explaining to you and nobara that her next lesson was in the complete opposite side of the building. the two of you waved off her apology as she scrambled to secure her bag over her shoulder and run off mid-conversation, reassuring her that she was fine and she had nothing to worry about.

when it was just you and nobara left, and she didn't make a move to leave, you knew she was in the same theatre class.

"i don't swear often," she told you, as the both of you made your way into the theatre hall.

immediately, your vision blanked, unable to see through the complete darkness and lack of light. at first, you almost believed that you made it to the wrong room, but after hearing whispers from your other supposed classmates wondering the same (only aloud) you knew you couldn't have gotten it wrong.

nobara seemed unfazed as she continued her incomplete sentence:

"— but guys really irritate me."

you nodded, and then mentally slapped yourself when you remembered that she couldn't see you — unless she had some weird type of supernatural night vision. you almost laughed at that: if megumi were here, he'd complain about abilities as such being 'not real'.

the lights switched on suddenly, blinding you and the rest of your classmates momentarily. you shut your eyes immediately, face scrunched in distaste at the foolish decision made by whoever had turned the lights on without a simple warning.

by the time you opened your eyes, you found who the culprit was — your (apparently dramatic) and first ever theatre teacher: mr white. he was a lanky old man with a bent posture and thin, rectangle glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose.

"don't let him hear you say that," you muttered with a unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile as he introduced himself with a voice way too loud for this late in the day. "he looks like a scientist."

"he's a theatre teacher," nobara pointed out with a raised brow.

"but he looks like a mad scientist," you continued stubbornly.

nobara regarded you with a look of oddity and for a moment, you were afraid that it'd be a whole new situation where she'd snitch on you for saying such a thing (it had happened back at elementary before; that was a story for another time), but she proved you wrong when her face broke out in a grin, not tight to show that it was forced, and not too expressive to show that it was fake.

"i see it," she agreed with a laugh. "good eye!"

and without even realising it, as the two of you sat together by the cinema-like seats and compared your timetables with one another (you shared six out of eight classes with her!), you had made your first new friend other than megumi.

bonus point: she's a girl!

maybe middle school wasn't so bad. especially not when you and nobara had become mr white's favourite to use as demonstrations for the lesson ("...see? for example, let's say... you, what's your name? y/n? lovely! let's say y/n here had to do a performance. she wouldn't be able to say no even if she hated it because that's professio— huh? you would say no? oh... that's bold. oh, did you day something? what's your name? nobara — okay, well the thing is, you can't just refuse to work with men all the time — no you can't hit them if they tell you that you have to, girls").

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you let out a gasp of shock when megumi and another pink-haired boy approached you and nobara by the lockers. the final lesson on both of your timetables was physical education, which nobara had audibly expressed that she absolutely detested. you weren't bad at sports at all — in fact, you were rather good at things like gymnastics, basketball and dodgeball if you really tried, but physical education as a lesson?

you never took it seriously.

you were sure that during elementary school, you'd cost your team a game because you completely stood still and examined your nails when one of your teammates wanted to pass the ball to you.

but while nobara's concerns were about the next lesson she was dreading, yours were about the two boys approaching you, particularly the bright-eyed, tall, pink-haired one.

pink hair? you thought to yourself with a grimace. what a weirdo.

you could not find it in yourself to believe that megumi fushiguro, ever the stoic and heartless one, made friends with a (you assumed was friendly) pink-haired guy. your mind had to put extra emphasis on the pink-haired part of his description. surely he hadn't actually wanted to dye his hair pink? surely it must've been an accident that just so happened to have occurred just before the first day of middle school — quite like how you and uncle ogi accidentally dyed one half of mai's hair blue while the other remained pink at some point during fourth grade...

but with the way the boy carried himself, his hands casually resting in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with megumi, an unwavering smile plastered over his gentle face, you were under the assumption that the result of his hair was no accident.

weird.

megumi acknowledged you with raised brows the moment he came within hearing distance of you. he barely acknowledged nobara, whose brows had furrowed in a skeptical manner when it became clear that yes, megumi and his friend were indeed approaching you.

"what's your next class?" said megumi, sounding gloomier than usual. perhaps he'd been having the same thoughts about starting a new school as you had — everyone knew that megumi hated change.

the boy next to him raised a hand and waved. you turned back to your childhood friend with narrowed eyes.

"first of all, it's p.e," you said hurriedly, the sound of nobara closing her locker echoing around the halls. people were starting to come out of their classes, heading to their next one. "secondly, did you just replace me?"

megumi released a small exhale through his nose to show his disbelief at your question. through half-lidded eyes, he averted his gaze from you to nobara, scowling. it was clear what he was indicating, and you weren't very impressed with his silent words.

"this is nobara and she's actually better than you, so..." you introduced her without even looking at her.

megumi's pink-haired companion spoke up just after you.

"i'm yuji," he said helpfully, the smile still present on his face despite your very loud claim of megumi having betrayed you by apparently 'replacing' you with this yuji.

yuji... the name fit, somehow.

"megumi," the messy-haired boy replied, barely smiling or making an attempt to seem welcoming at all.

nobara leaned in towards you, uncaring of whether the two boys noticed or not.

"he looks like he used to pick his boogers and eat them," she whispered, her chin lifting to gesture at yuji. before you could put your input on that, her gaze shifted back to megumi. "and he looks entitled — didn't even start with 'i'm' or 'my name is'. you're seriously friends with this guy?"

"oh that's just what megumi does. he's just angry at life for no reason, you'll get used to it!" you clarified brightly.

megumi did not like that. he raised his pale hand to flick your forehead, and you were so invested in making fun of him, you hadn't realised that he was aiming to do it until you felt the harsh sting of the attack just after he'd dropped his hand back to his side.

"ouch!" you hissed, rubbing your forehead and glaring at him. "why did you do that porcupine? i was gonna introduce myself to yuji!"

"don't bother," he responded, teeth gritted as your loose tongue slipped out the embarrassing nickname you'd made for him. "already told him your name —"

"porcupine?" repeated yuji, only further agitating megumi, who had a clenched jaw now. he faced up at your mutual friend — yuji was about the same height as you, and megumi had grown slightly over the summer so it grew a little more difficult to be able to see the the entire surface area of his messy hair as easily as you once used to. but yuji had decided that he'd seen enough when he let out a boisterous laugh. "hey, i see it! you look like a porcupine!"

as you and nobara laughed at the expression on megumi's face, yuji continued to explain what he'd meant, even as megumi glared at him with enough intensity to potentially kill.

"'cause... 'cause your hair —"

"i get it," he snapped, effectively ending the open-day-on-megumi-fushiguro.

"i like you y/n," said yuji, shortly after.

you beamed. "i like me too!"

megumi watched the interaction before him, his mind immediately figuring out a way to piss you off the same way you managed to piss him off. after knowing you for so long, and going through thick and thin with each other, it wasn't hard for megumi to plunge his hand into the pit in his mind where his witty responses remained, and pull something out to at least render you the slightest bit speechless (his record timing of keeping you silent with embarrassment had been five seconds).

"so do we all have p.e then?" nobara questioned, seemingly accepting the fact that megumi and yuji were going to be with you for the rest of your time here at middle school. it didn't mean that she was necessarily pleased, however, but she did like you and would remain friends with you even if it meant having to be around the two boys.

"yeah, but we're not in the same classes," you said, defeated. "nobara and i are though!"

"are we in their class?" yuji cluelessly asked megumi.

the aloof boy shrugged. "i don't know, ask the mermaid."

time stopped for you.

"the mermaid?" both yuji and nobara repeated with confusion.

there was ringing in both your ears, forcing you to grow less and less attentive of the bewilderment surrounding your two new friends. something in your stomach was wiggling, encouraging you to bend over and release the contents of that morning's breakfast down, eyes narrowing to prevent it all. your jaw had become less tense, slowly dropping to allow your soft lips to form an 'o', your expression softening all the while. your vision grew blurry, not through tears, no, but through the growing heat beneath your skin all over your body. you unknowingly clenched your fists, nails digging into the ends of your palms to form half-moon crescents into your smooth skin.

you had never felt such rage course through your body — your soul, even — in the eleven years of life that you'd been living. it didn't come as a surprise to you that megumi would be the reason, but you'd hoped that out of everything he could have said to anyone in the future, it would be anything but that.

his voice echoed in your mind even though you could clearly see his lips remained unmoving.

'i don't know, ask the mermaid...'

'(...) know, ask the mermaid...'

'ask the mermaid...'

'(...) the mermaid...'

'(...) mermaid...'

mermaid.

the scene before you had flashed before your eyes, the embarrassment you'd felt at the end of the day when you'd later failed to convince everyone that you just so happened to be a mermaid.

the shame brought upon you during the family dinner that week, and how easily it was for everyone to make fun of you when usually, it was always you that managed to poke fun at someone.

"megumi fushiguro," you started slowly, cutting through yuji's random theory about what 'mermaid' could have possibly meant. the traitor you were addressing raised a brow at you expectantly. "how dare you."

before he could open his mouth and retort, (nobara began talking: "what are you— oh!") you stepped forward and pulled his hair, your ultimate move as he gripped your wrist tightly, one eye shut and one eye open in pain. you didn't stop there, raising your leg to kick him in the knee. you shoved him away, dusting yourself off as if you'd touched the dirtiest thing the world had to offer.

he regained his composure easily, glaring at you throughout it all.

"ouch," he said, face straight and firm.

nobara gave him a look of disgust, everyone collectively ignoring yuji's difficulty in standing up straight to stop himself from laughing (megumi slapped his hand off of his shoulder when he attempted to use it as a grip).

you threw your chin in the air with a look of something between victory and annoyance.

"don't embarrass me in front of nobara ever again."

nobara would have laughed at that, but she was too occupied with her absolute discontent towards megumi and his reaction to your attack.

"why are you acting like that didn't hurt?" she demanded fiercely.

megumi shrugged, his hands still planted casually in the pockets of his school pants.

"seriously, how are you friends with this guy?" she then asked you, regarding your moody friend with a look of contempt.

"after this? we're not friends," you declared. but your decision hadn't lasted even five seconds before you stared up at him with disbelief. "megumi, where's your friendship bracelet?"

he looked down at his empty wrist. "i took it off."

"oh — oh, i see how it is," you snapped, taking nobara's hand and stomping away.

the boys watched you walk off, megumi looking exhausted and yuji sporting a wide smile. you were glad nobara did not put up any resistance in being dragged away. in fact, she seemed to be pushing further so she could take the lead instead.

"you'll never — see this face — again!" you called out over your shoulder.

for the brief moment you caught each other's gazes, you were submerged in a moment of betrayal when he did not seem the slightest bit upset. megumi merely stared back at you, deadpanned, the further you walked.

"we're going the same way," he brutally commented.

you hated that he was always right. would it kill him to be wrong just for a bit? if only to save yourself from the embarrassment once again?

"i know."

you hadn't. you'd forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

physical education felt like you'd joined the military here in middle school — why hadn't maki warned you of that? though arguably, when you and mai had spoken about starting the school, she'd mentioned how difficult it would be, and how maki was such a loser that she took this course incredibly serious.

you weren't bad at sports at all. in fact, you enjoyed it. the annual family football game meant that you had to enjoy it because it was a necessity — you remembered how mai found it super difficult to keep up with everyone else just because her interests lied elsewhere. winning was very important to you, so you always opted to choose mai last whenever you ended up being captain of your team.

that being said, all of that wouldn't be believable if anyone saw the stance you were taking now at the dodgeball game coach yaga (a broad, angry man with flattened hair and sunglasses who seemed to dislike you the most) had organised for you all.

though your timetables had made it extremely crystal clear that you and nobara were not in the same class as megumi and yuji were for p.e, coach yaga had all the classes merge for the first lesson ever to play one massive round of dodgeball. you were pleased to find that the four of you were all on the same team, though the coach began to slowly regret his choice, particularly when the first round had started and he'd finally, properly met you, y/n l/n.

the second his whistle went off, every single person in your team (and the one across you) dashed forward to grab at the balls lined in the centre of the field. everyone except from you.

see, you had stayed back and admired the grass beneath your sneakers, fond at how vibrant the green was. the coach was shouting at someone, and perhaps you should have paid attention to who, especially when you saw him glaring in your direction. you looked back, as if trying to see if he was shouting at someone behind you, only to be met with the empty air of space. you turned, raising your brows as you placed your pointer finger on your chest and mouthed a startled 'me?'.

"YES, YOU!" he'd bellowed, arms outstretched in disbelief. "WHO ELSE?"

you looked around, indeed trying to find who else and only growing distracted with how impressed you were at yuji's speed since he'd been the first out of both teams to reach the line of balls and take them.

"go yuji!" you cheered joyfully. "i've got your back —" you announced proudly, and when you tried moving forward to help, a ball missed you by two inches. you stepped back again. "... from right here!"

"what the hell are you, a cheerleader?" coach yaga demanded. "GET ON THE FIELD!"

"i am!" you argued back, gesturing to where you were standing which, indeed, was on the field.

you were growing very frustrated with whoever this damn coach was. the first time he'd yelled at you, you let it slide. now, however, you were starting to get annoyed.

"GET ON THE —" he started, turning away and sighing when two of your teammates had been hit below the waist. "YOU — WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

oh this is bad, you thought to yourself in fear. the very last thing you needed was a phone call home to your mom on your literal first day of a whole new school. you did not want a repeat of elementary school, but you could see the way coach yaga was glaring at you. it was almost similar to the way mrs davis — your fifth grade teacher — would stare at you: a menacing expression, made to intimidate you, no doubt.

you looked around, trying to formulate a plan in your head. the smartest idea was most likely to simply participate, but with how serious everyone seemed (some blonde dude from the other team literally screamed at another guy for not catching the ball) you had no desire to be apart of it all.

you turned back to coach yaga when he continued to demand your name.

"it's — it's megumi," you lied, mindful of the fact that megumi was at the front of the field, participating with such ease — the importance of that was to make sure that he hadn't heard you: he'd definitely tell the coach the truth instead (especially because your lie was at his expense).

the coach seemed skeptical, raising a brow at you and pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. you noticed how his hands were slightly more tanned than his face.

"you don't look like a megumi," he said, as he pointed at another student to silently tell them that they were out.

you did not know what to do then. how else were you supposed to convince him that your name was megumi? perhaps you could grow defensive... make him feel guilty for criticising your fake-name? no, you thought wisely, that would attract attention from megumi.

but it seemed that for the first time ever, luck was on your side — for coach yaga had grumbled under his breath, and through the loud yells of your fellow classmates, you heard each and every word he uttered.

"but i remember a megumi from the register..." he looked up at you again. "right. go and help your team!"

your head slowly turned to your fellow teammates, all of whom were working diligently to secure themselves a win. you drew back — dodgeball is never that serious. they were acting like their lives were on the line.

"um — i'm fine over here, actually," you giggled, muttering out a small 'ooh' whilst also flinching at the sight of nobara purposely aiming for that same tall, angry dude on the other team; she managed to hit him successfully.

"that wasn't an option," he spoke, his voice growing in volume with each word, until finally... "GO HELP YOUR TEAM, MEGUMI!"

megumi, who had quite literally just done exactly that by managing to take out the most competitive player of the other team, turned his head at the scolding he'd apparently received.

you had to hold back a laugh, puffing out your cheeks with the breath of air you'd held in to help with that. you were somewhat grateful for yaga's glasses as they made it difficult to see who he was looking at.

megumi, confused at the random scolding he received (one he firmly believed he did not deserve when that blonde girl on his left could barely throw at a proper distance), straightened up and turned his attention back to the game, catching a ball that had been thrown at him and ultimately leaving said-thrower out of the game.

meanwhile, you actually took several tentative steps forward, noticing a ball rolling at your feet. bending down, you picked it up and examined it for a moment. you raised it high, ready to throw it...

— to your teammate because you had no actual intention of participating in this inhumane sport ever.

coach yaga clearly did not like that:

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MEGUMI?"

the actual megumi turned his head to glare at the coach, who looked extremely irate. megumi did not understand — what was he doing wrong? why on earth was this man distracting him from playing for his team? was he purposely being biased, distracting him for no reason to allow the other team to secure a win?

he was growing angrier for every second yaga continued to scold him for doing the exact thing he kept saying megumi wasn't doing: catching the ball? he'd done it thrice. throwing the ball? he just did. participating? what the hell was he doing the entire game then, if not participating?

all the while, you had to turn away and place a hand over your mouth, your chest heaving every time coach yaga yelled at you and referred to you as megumi. it only grew more difficult to hold back a laugh, particularly when megumi would stand up and glare at the coach.

you somehow ended up in the middle of your team's side of the field, which was not what you wanted at all. but before you could turn and walk back to what you claimed as your designated spot at the very back of the field, you noticed your shoelace untied.

"oh!" you said, hearing coach yaga yell 'your' name as you bent down to tie your laces together again.

unbeknownst to you, when you'd ducked to do your laces, a ball had been thrown, and while it was meant for you, your action had allowed it to fly over you and hit another player who just so happened to have been standing behind you.

that must've been it for coach yaga, because at that time, he'd yelled at you louder than you'd ever heard him do so in the past fifteen minutes.

"MEGUMI, WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THAT BALL?" he bellowed, his grip on his whistle tightening so much, you could see his veins bulging. "YOU COST YOUR TEAM A PLAYER!"

the look on megumi's face was outrageous: his brows were furrowed so much that some of his forehead (that was usually mostly concealed by his fluffy hair) was slowly starting to show as he swiped a warm hand across his face in both exhaustion and irritation. he was now under the impression that coach yaga either picked on him for the sake of it, or that he was simply blind. it would explain the sunglasses he wore indoors.

megumi then unconsciously came up with the counterargument that satoru did the same, though he easily countered it with the fact that the white-haired male was simply foolish and incompetent.

megumi truly believed that, unlike satoru, yaga wasn't foolish or incompetent. he liked his strict nature. initially.

now, however, megumi was slowly growing to hate the man for spewing up lies about things that megumi had apparently done (when did he run away from an incoming ball?).

so being accused of costing a team a player when he'd indeed caught a ball and gave the team back a player was where he had to put his foot down. enough was enough.

"i didn't!" he snapped, yaga's head tilting and brows furrowing menacingly. megumi could have sworn that he also looked challenged, in a sense.

yaga let out a noise, something between a scoff and a gasp. he seemed almost confused.

"who are you, boy?"

megumi glowered. "megumi."

you watched the conversation playing out before you, watched as someone caught a ball that had been flying towards megumi's distracted figure, watched as yuji apologised to a girl he'd taken out of the game, watched as your plan deteriorated before you.

you had two options:

you could go ahead and distract coach yaga, turn his attention back to you and make him completely forget that a random, angry boy just lied about his name being yours... or, you could stand back and enjoy the show. after all, it was rather amusing, and you didn't actually believe that your lie could be held out for so long (though you were surprised with how much megumi had tolerated).

you chose the latter. it was fun.

"oh so you're the new class clown, are you?" said coach yaga, and you nearly choked on your own laughter when you saw megumi's offended expression. "nice try — megumi's a girl name."

oh, you thought with amusement. he pulled the perfect card; you watched as megumi's expression had softened (still glowering, always) and spoke under his breath.

"not a girl's name..."

"you trying to be funny, boy?" coach yaga continued brutally. he unfolded his arms. "you're not megumi. she is!"

your cover had been blown: megumi's head turned, leisurely, slowly, almost as if he was hoping, praying to the lord above, that 'she' wasn't who he thought it was.

but when his gaze met yours and found the amusement dancing around your features as you crouched to poorly hide your laughter, he knew his prayers had been dismissed.

of course. why did he even care to believe in hope at this point?

megumi might have been having the worst day of his life, but you were experiencing your best. it wasn't even coach yaga's exclamations that had you reeling (though it was a good contributing factor) it was megumi's realisation, the scowl on his face, the deadpanned look he sent as he sighed loudly, so much so that it almost sounded like a drawn out groan. there wasn't even a point in hiding your laughter from both him and coach yaga anymore, it was clear as day that you were enjoying every bit of this.

megumi was angry.

"i'm megumi," he informed coach yaga. "not her."

coach yaga didn't take that lightly.

"you — megumi is not your name, boy, what are you yapping about?" he demanded, almost growing. he reminded you of that one scene from your favourite anime 'attack on titan' where the teacher — keith shadis — yells at his students, face contorted to form an expression that looked rather funny to you.

"megumi is my name," your angry friend responded, side-stepping away from a ball that had been thrown at him. he glared at you. "that was your fault."

you raised a brow. "how? you dodged it."

he ignored you, choosing to glower at coach yaga instead.

"her name is y/n."

"the hell?"

you thought it was the perfect chance to confuse him even further. you called out to the coach from your favourite position at the back.

"no, no, he's right!" you informed him loudly. "he's megumi!"

coach yaga stared at you, positively startled. "what —"

"yeah, he's not lying! his name is megumi!"

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. you waited patiently for him to look up, and eventually, when he did, he took his sunglasses off to finally address you, bare eyed and all.

you raised your brows in surprised anticipation.

"right — megumi — y/n — whatever the hell your name is — GET OVER HERE!"

you jumped, turning away and skipping forwards.

"erm — no thanks! i'll just start playing now!"

and true to your word, despite his loud protests (and how very verbal they were), you intercepted and caught a ball, saving a distracted girl on your team, and allowing one of your defeated teammates to return back to the field.

you beamed, waving the ball over your head at yaga.

"see? i did it!"

but you frowned at the sight of a particular player returning to the field due to your impeccable catch. you remembered him to be the random voice yelling at you to 'catch the ball!' or 'help us!'. how ironic.

"um — no, i don't want you back in the game," you said, walking up to him and pointing at the line of players that were out. "not after you shouted at me — don't look at me like that — it's my catch! you can be back in the game," you added to another player.

coach yaga screamed at you from in between the two lines of defeated players.

"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT!"

you averted your gaze from your classmate to the coach, slowly regarding him with a look of something in between disbelief and annoyance. you repressed the urge to scoff at him. what ridiculous rules he had made. you didn't remember dodgeball being this strict.

"well i think you should change that dumb rule," you told him, holding the ball beneath your pit and resting your weight on your left leg. "anyway, what are you waiting for?" you asked the other boy you wanted back on your team. "go!"

he was a stammering mess, gesturing from coach yaga to the field, muttering something about 'but i don't think i'm allowed to' or something along those lines. you were growing more impatient with every stutter, with every stammer, with every bit of hesitation.

sighing, you turned to the player that was actually meant to be back in the game, and gestured behind you at the field.

"ugh, you just go because he's taking too long and it's making me tired."

it was funny, because despite coach yaga's fury towards you, that boy had only gone and rightfully joined the game after you demanded so. perhaps p.e lessons weren't so bad, what had nobara been complaining about back when you had a conversation about sports by her locker? p.e was fantastic.

until your ears began to ring again. coach yaga had turned a deep shade of burgundy.

"HEY, THAT'S IT!" he bellowed, and to your complete surprise (and fear), he began stomping forward, making a move for you despite the game continuing.

you squeaked, dropping the ball and running away, unaware of the chaos that had ensued after the referee left his position. you noticed how several players from both teams thought it'd be wise to run back on the field, playing as though they had not quite literally cheated due to the coach's distraction. the thought would have made you laugh had you not been running for your life.

you looked over your shoulder and nearly fell over when someone from the opposing team had recklessly thrown a ball in your team's direction, only for it to hit coach yaga on his thigh.

you stopped, eyes darting over to the culprit who turned out to be a very tall, lanky, brunette kid. his eyes had turned as wide as saucers at the realisation of the gravity of what he'd done. you turned back to coach yaga, shaking your head at him.

"sir you're out," you alerted him helpfully.

you hadn't noticed yuji hovering over your shoulder, megumi standing idly beside him and nobara observing with poorly contained amusement.

"she's right y'know," you heard yuji comment to megumi lowly, but you knew that if you had been able to hear it, coach yaga had definitely heard it too. "he is out —"

you thought you made coach yaga absolutely lose it when he made his move towards you, walking through the ongoing game because he'd just about had it, but you did not know that there was more patience left in him to narrow, not until he stood before you now, fingers half curled inwards and hovering over his own head. you would've assumed that he was going to rip his own hair out, but then you noticed how he didn't really have any to do so.

it was when he started visibly vibrating on the spot, and practically acting feral with untamed indignation, did you fully realise the extent of just how short this man's temper was.

a noise bubbled out of his throat, something akin to a howl. you snorted.

"wait — why's he glitching?" you laughed, watching the odd scene unfold before you.

"oh — he's spazzing out," said yuji, sounding almost concerned despite speaking with a curious air of thoughtfulness.

"men," sighed nobara, eyeing coach yaga critically.

megumi observed his teacher, unbothered. "she broke our teacher."

"i did not break him!" you snapped, but then noticed something that made you clap excitedly. "megumi! he's growling like bear from masha and the bear!" you chortled loudly, slapping away his hand that had extended past yuji to pinch at your arm.

"you couldn't have stopped yourself?" said megumi, eyes half-lidded and seeming slightly bored, not nearly as interested in coach yaga's odd actions as much as everyone else.

you frowned. "huh —"

"it's the first day."

"i know that," you said brightly. "what's your point?"

megumi walked away from you, muttering something under his breath.

it didn't take long before everyone lost interest in the dodgeball game at hand and became more fascinated with the way coach yaga ordered you to get off the playing field and face the other way, apparently in a middle-school version of time out. you scowled. a school for 'big kids', they said. they'll treat you like 'adults', they said.

what lies.

after the twenty minutes of the first round was up, he sent you back on the field with your team, but not before borderline threatening you.

"hey — you," he said, once you'd excitedly waved at nobara. you looked up at him, curious. "you better fix up, or else."

"or else what?"

"or else."

you tilted your head when he left it at that, opting to stare at you in some weird method that was made to, no doubt, intimidate you.

"i don't get it. or else what?"

he groaned loudly. "don't make me shout. get on the field and participate."

you definitely did one of the two things: you stepped out on the field and joined your old friend (and your two new friends) and chatted their ears off with enthusiasm. but as for the latter...

you still faced issues with obeying that particular order.

dodgeball just was not fun when you were so strict about it, so instead of lingering at the back like you had previously done, you joined nobara and stood behind her for moral support.

"i want to get that guy out," she told you, and while it may have looked like you were both conversing about plans for the game to an outsider, you knew all too well that it would only be nobara who formed a game plan.

you side-stepped a lousily thrown ball when you spotted something from the corner of your eye.

"look, nobara! that cloud looks like a bum!"

"what — OW!"

distracted by your observation, nobara had averted her gaze from the opposing team for a single second before she found herself clutching her eye, bulging in pain due to the ball that had made contact with it.

you gasped. her hand hovered over her injury. coach yaga yelled at you furiously.

nobara had to sit out for the rest of the round, a bag of frozen peas pressed against her eye as she lazily slouched on the chair. you scolded the attacker, ignoring the way coach yaga scolded you.

"stop shouting at him when it was your fault!"

"okay okay," you scowled, walking backwards without keeping your eyes off of the coach, your back meeting the side of a warm body.

you turned, startled when yuji's pink hair brushed your cheek.

"oh, careful!" he said, helping you stand properly. he looked over your shoulder, flinching when nobara glared at him simply for meeting her gaze. "damn, nobara seems pissed."

"yeah, it's all that guy's fault," you said, pointing at the boy who had thrown the ball at her.

"wasn't it your fault?" said yuji, frowning at you.

your gaze hardened rapidly. whose side was he on? yours, or that random dude that had the ugliest smirk you had ever seen and was the actual reason nobara was benched for this round? you liked yuji, but you were very disappointed with him now.

"i didn't throw the ball at her."

"yeah but you distracted her —"

you screamed, grabbing yuji by his skinny arms and pulling him in front of you to use him as a human shield. he was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre, moving in the exact direction you had intended with no difficulty whatsoever. half a second later, he had let out a pained groan when the incoming ball met his abdomen just below his waist.

coach yaga blew his whistle.

"you poor kid, you're out," he shouted over the cheers of the other team.

yuji looked at you over his shoulder, incensed and desperate. you let go of his arms and released a long breath.

"heh — erm — thanks for your sacrifice, yuji."

"seriously?" he demanded. "that's what you say after you get me out?"

"sorry, it was every man for himself!" you reasoned with a helpless shrug.

"one of us is a man," he grumbled, making his way towards the line of players that were out.

you waved at him, turning around and then stumbling backwards when megumi's neck had been mere inches from your own face.

"oh — porcupine —"

"don't."

"you scared me!"

he glared at you. "stay away from me."

well that wasn't very nice. megumi never ever expressed his love for you or how you were the greatest friend in the world, which you were used to, that had never been a problem. he definitely insulted you here and there (often) but he gave as good as he got. however, never had he ever said something as rude as that with very little context.

you were not impressed.

"that's rude," you stated with a huff.

"you got those two sent out," he said, quick as a flash. "that's rude."

you rolled your eyes at him. "that's not even true," you said, before pushing his shoulder with yours to walk away from him, only to turn back and add something else. "and i don't even want to stay with you anyway."

"good."

"good!"

"oi, the two megumis!" yelled coach yaga.

the two of you simultaneously looked at the coach. megumi grumbled.

"GET ON WITH IT!"

your ex-friend's head turned to face you once more, and you watched as he scowled at you, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring.

"get away from me," he ordered you coldly.

you raised a brow at him, critical and incredulous.

"no," you said, disbelief hanging onto the single syllable. "it's a free country!"

"i was here first," he responded quickly, with all the passion and excuse of a bratty child.

"yeah well guess what porcupine? i don't care."

"you should. you're gonna get me out somehow."

"whatever," you said, before turning to walk away.

but then you hurriedly turned back, wanting to address something very quickly. megumi had already shaped the rest of his body in a competitive stance, knees bent and arms extended. his brows were furrowed, eyeing the opposing team almost menacingly, though he looked more focused and concentrated than he did angry. he barely moved his head to look at you when you spoke again.

"oh, and by the way," you stated, pointer finger raised to emphasise your statement, "i'm only walking away because i want to. not because you told me to, so..."

"i don't care," he'd said, just as you'd turned your back to him for the nth time within a single minute.

but history showed that the two of you always fought for the last word and you would definitely not lose your two-year-long streak over some stupid dodgeball game.

so you spun on the spot again, ignoring the menacing look he'd sent you.

"i don't want to stand next to you anyways. i'll stand next to someone who actually wears the friendship bracelet i give them —"

you walked off (for real this time) just as megumi stood up straight and yelled after you.

"i had to take a shower!"

"for what?" you demanded, choosing to walk backwards this time so you could continue walking and talking. "you come out looking scruffy anyw— look out!"

he barely budged when the ball hit his leg, seemingly accepting his cruel fate. you froze when he sent you the stink eye, sheepishly shrugging when coach yaga's whistle cut through the tense silence.

"megumi number two, you're out!"

megumi stood completely still, shoulders drooped and eyelids heavy. you thought he looked like uncle ogi when he sat in his special arm chair and simply contemplated his life. it would have been funny if not for the harsh circumstances. megumi only looked up to address the coach.

"it's just megumi —"

"okay just megumi — GET OFF THE FIELD!"

and as he did just that, you did not miss the small 'stupid mermaid' he muttered to himself.

the slightest tinge of guilt that slyly crawled its way into your stomach and sat there comfortably like a turtle in its shell had been fought off by your immune system the second you'd heard him curse you with that stupid nickname. you didn't feel bad about the loss of that dumb porcupine from your team. he barely brought anything to the table to begin with: excitement? he had no humour. personality? he was boring. style? look at his hair.

the next ten minutes of the game had you almost pleasantly surprised: the majority of your team found themselves standing in the line of defeated players, simply observing, watching and waiting for some warrior to come in and catch a ball for them (seeing as you certainly would not). it had become so frequent, so consistent that everyone but you would somehow get hit by the ball, that the rest of the game was barely dodgeball — it was a waiting game.

they were waiting on you.

to either pick up the ball and throw it, or catch the next ball flying at you.

you did neither.

and because you'd done neither, all the balls had ended up on your end of the field, meaning that members of the other team had to wait until you decided to throw a few back.

but really, you spent your time apologising to yuji. you had attempted to do so before, but the other team rudely interrupted you by trying to bombard you with multiple balls. now that all of them were on your court, they wouldn't be able to attack you.

"listen yuji," you said, for (probably about) the fifth time, "i am so sorry for using you as a human shield and then saying that it's every man for themselves —"

when you thought that you would not get distracted by the other team, you had forgotten that the biggest distraction of all could enter both courts: coach yaga.

"OI, PICK UP THE BALL, AND THROW IT —"

"— wait, i'm not done yet!" you snapped, throwing the coach a dirty look before softening your expression to address a bored yuji once again. "where was i? oh yeah! i didn't mean to use you as a human shield, i just don't like to be hit by things. so i'm sorry i got you out, okay? and —"

"— YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT  —"

"— and!" you continued over the loud voice that belonged to the bear that just so happened to be your coach, "— i regret it so much. i'm sorry, yuji."

"what about me?" said megumi.

you looked at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

"only friends get apologies," you told him, gaze darting down to his bare wrist before meeting his dark eyes once more. "and it's not even my fault you got out — i didn't tell you to stare at me, did i? anyways, i'm sorry, yuji."

"IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY, YOU'D CATCH A BALL AND GET THAT PINK KID BACK IN THE GAME!"

yuji, who had been silently listening to your honest and true apology, had turned his head to look at the coach with a confused and hurt expression. he looked like a kicked puppy.

"pink ki—" he barely finished his sentence before the pout invaded the previous frown he'd been sporting.

"well i can't catch a ball if they're not throwing any, can i?" you said matter-of-factly.

"ALL THE BALLS ARE ON YOUR COURT, THROW THEM THEN!"

nearly every member of your team nodded and agreed. you thought they were a bunch of sheep but said nothing about it. you rolled your eyes and picked up the balls, walking towards the line that separated the two courts and then simply dropped the balls there.

"what the hell are you — WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT TO THEM?"

you turned, one ball under your pit and the other on your free palm.

"i thought you said you wanted me to give it to them and then catch it!"

"NO, YOU CONFUSED CHILD — I SAID TO THROW THEM!"

you dropped all the balls remaining in your hold and then sighed. "this is too hard — OH MY GOD!"

you'd barely been given the time to adjust to the new rules of the game (that you'd never once heard of) before the players on the other team were throwing the balls you had given them at you.

you scowled after you ducked at a ball aiming for your head.

"hey, i gave those to you!"

"yeah, that's the point," a boy with shoulder length hair responded.

you got used to the constant attacks eventually, so much so that you ended up skipping around your end of the field, immune to the constant background distractions and noise (your classmates and coach yaga shouting, nobara was the only one that seemed careless as to whatever the hell you chose to do with your free will) that it almost felt like a dream. it felt liberating to have an entire field to yourself. the rest of the game had gone really well for you: you spent your time cart-wheeling away from the balls thrown, and if you were feeling particularly cheeky in that minute, you'd also do a front aerial.

but where the game had been going splendidly for you, it had been going very poorly for your poor teammates:

"sir can i just replace her?" megumi volunteered, deadpanned and serious.

coach yaga let out a long sigh, though it sounded like it could also be a growl. "no, kid. that's cheating."

megumi looked up at the tall, buff man and glowered at him. "do rules even apply now? look at her —"

you were now trying to convince the blonde girl on the other team to let you teach her how to do the splits.

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to scar his own aged skin. he blew the whistle after he spent a few minutes contemplating: he finished the game early, and since it was the final class of the day, you all got to go home early.

the class half hated and half loved you for it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you had to give it to yuji's gramps, the interior design of his house was wonderful. despite being completely deaf, it seemed that the man's lost sense had contributed to his heightened sight, for you could not find a single thing to critique when you'd stepped inside for the first time. it wasn't massive or big like a typical rich person's mansion, it was decent sized and homey, a cosy place that made your insides feel fuzzy and warm like the vibe you got after drinking hot chocolate in front of your fireplace with megumi and the rest of the family growing up.

you, yuji, megumi and nobara hung around at yuji's often. it was easier to get away with things because of the sole fact that his grandfather simply could not hear and made no effort in trying to either.

on one special occasion, the four of you had cycled over to yuji's place straight after school — though megumi and yuji had to take quick showers as they'd been left sweaty and sticky after participating in p.e. you and nobara never did much during those lessons, so the two of you had been completely fine.

"i told you," said yuji, marching over to where you'd been standing by the kitchen to replace the dead flowers in the beige glass, "grandpa hates roses."

"how would you know?" you said, admiring the fresh roses you'd brought over as nobara and megumi threw your backpacks in the designated corner of the living room. "has he ever communicated that to you?"

yuji raised a brow at you. "he's deaf, not mute."

before you could snap back at your pink-haired friend, who had also shot up in height over your time in the sixth grade, megumi had cut through your conversation with a sharp insult.

"you guys sound like idiots," he commented idly. "and yuji's right: he hates roses."

"roses are pretty, what reason does he have to hate them?" said nobara, easily coming to your defence.

over the following months, nobara had warmed up to both boys — yuji and megumi — even if she claimed that she still disliked them very much. her cold exterior towards them had been hard to break, as yuji would constantly mention at any chance he got, but you were glad it did: you couldn't argue with the idiot boys all on your own.

"porcupine, stop siding with the dumb pink kid," you said. stepping away from the roses and making your way down the narrow hall to yuji's bedroom.

"jokes on you, i'm okay with that name now!" he called out from somewhere behind you.

you could hear megumi complaining straight after. "shut up, why are you so loud?"

"you're such a grandpa, megumi," said nobara.

you hummed in agreement, reaching yuji's tall black door at the end of the narrow, dark hallway, twisting the knob and then inviting yourself in. somehow, megumi had overtaken yuji in the walk to his bedroom. you could see the outline of his scruffy hair from his shadow plastered over the wall. once you strutted in, you made an attempt to slam the door in megumi's face, forcing it shut behind you.

he grunted, kicking the door open and then following in straight after you. you had assumed that that would be the end of it, but proven wrong when you felt the heel of megumi's shoe dig into the dip of your knees from behind.

you stacked as a result.

it was embarrassing, but you stood back up just as quickly as you had stacked, spinning around to glare at your stoic friend who simply shrugged and walked off, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking as uncaring as ever.

yuji's bedroom was rather spacious. his walls were a dark shade of blue with a large-screen television attached to the left. he had a single massive window presenting the back garden (which was also not nearly as big as yours or megumi's, though you thought uncle ogi would like the look of it). his bed was rather unique and not out of the ordinary — for someone as spontaneous as yuji, that is.

because he just couldn't have a normal bed like everyone else, yuji had a ceiling bed, something that megumi and nobara had felt was excessive. you did too, for sure (which explained why you spent most of your time up there the first few times you'd come over to his place).

beneath his ceiling bed was his gaming console and a bunch of other cool technological things you played around with from time to time.

the couch at the centre of the room was where the four of you would lounge whenever you'd watch a movie together. it was also routine for you and yuji to argue over the single bean bag that sat just in front of the couch on the floor.

"let's watch a horror movie!" yuji announced as you and nobara flopped onto the couch with all of your limbs spread out.

megumi scowled at the two of you, harshly grabbing nobara's leg and pulling so he could make space. she yelled at him in response, using your hands (which you willingly offered) to pull herself back up and use it as a grip so she could effectively kick at him with her free leg without the risk of falling.

megumi did not like that at all.

"that's cheating."

"i wasn't aware that there were any rules —" she made an attempt to kick him again, "— to this."

"there are when you have the mermaid helping you —"

you threw the spider-man pillow you'd been leaning on at his face and glared at him even when you successfully hit your target.

"yeah, so when you don't look like a porcupine anymore, you stupid sea urchin —" you started, but were rudely interrupted by the enthusiastic voice that was yuji.

throughout all the arguing and chaos, he had been switching through different types of horror movies to watch. you hadn't noticed with the raging hot anger you felt towards megumi.

"insidious chapter three," he read out, comfortably slacking against the squishy bean bag. "yeah, let's watch that!"

nobara, now forcefully pushed to the side as megumi took the odd and foolish initiative to sit on you in order to make you move, loudly verbalised her agreement.

"heard it's super scary though," she said. "let's do it!"

"i —" you began, finding it difficult to speak with megumi's back pressed against your face. you shuffled and pushed at his stubborn body. "i a-agree!"

megumi pushed his weight further into you. you coughed dramatically.

"megumi-you-stupid-cow-i-can't-breathe!"

"good."

"what —" you gasped, harshly breathing in as much air as possible, "what did you eat today — an elephant?"

he only pushed down harder at that.

yuji joyfully clicked on the movie, quickly scrolling down the description and the short list of actors that would be present. you spent the time forcing megumi off of you, only successful after more than twenty tries (you were oddly certain about it) and then claimed your seat by the arm of the long couch. corner seats were your absolute favourite; there was no particular reason why, just that it felt a lot more comfortable than being sandwiched in between two warm bodies — megumi was also very stiff, you and nobara collectively agreed, so if you were to be stuck in between two people, you wished megumi wouldn't be one out of two of them.

with the space you'd been selfishly raiding now free, curtesy of your movement to the very right of the couch, nobara easily slid next to you, linking your arms and shifting in her seat so she could get more comfortable to the new adjustment. megumi, however, stood before the two of you, glancing at the only other corner seat that had been meant for him.

"move," he told nobara, demanding and with the manners of a seagull.

her nose scrunched up with disgust at his tone. "what? no."

"i don't wanna sit in the corner," megumi complained while you played with yuji's hair: his seat on his beanbag was right against your knees.

"yeah well tough," said nobara, lifting your interlinked arms just enough so megumi could see them. "y/n's my friend."

his brows furrowed as if that had been the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, though you knew all too well that couldn't be true, not when megumi had strongly proven his disagreement with hilary smith from the fifth grade when she claimed that the government had everyone put in schools to become robots in the future. that was a core memory you wouldn't forget.

"she was my friend first," he countered, looking as though nobara's point had been extremely pointless.

you laughed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and attempting to look humble.

"guys, guys," you intervened smoothly, "there's enough of me to go around for everyone —"

"yeah guys," yuji added ungraciously, "there's enough of me to go around —"

"nobody's arguing over you," megumi snapped, silencing him momentarily. he opened his mouth to, no doubt, berate him further when you had cut across him, gazing down at yuji with a scowl.

"what are you yapping about?" you asked your pink-haired friend, relishing in the hiss he'd let out when you pulled at his hair, a look of confusion and disbelief on your face. "just do what you do best and find us a movie. you're embarrassing me."

megumi seemed to have given up on the topic entirely, sitting in the only free space and frowning as he did so.

"i did!" yuji argued back, slapping your hand away from his hair and rubbing his scalp with a frown you could not see.

"no you didn't," said megumi, eyeing the tv screen critically. "why are we watching insidious chapter three before we've even watched chapters one and two?"

"because we can, porcupine, stop complaining," you answered swiftly.

"it's dumb," he said impatiently.

nobara sighed irritably. "yuji, just ignore him and put it on."

"already on it!"

but megumi hadn't quite finished his speech:

"that's like watching the fifth harry potter movie without the first," he said, afraid that if he rolled his eyes once more at your stupidity, they'd be stuck to the back of his head for good. "who does that?"

"um — like — everyone?" you replied, encouraging nobara to hit megumi for you. it was difficult to reach him when the two of you were on two different ends of the couch.

he stared at you, dumbfounded with your stubborn response. "what planet are you living on?"

you grinned. "actually, megumi, the only live-able planet that humans can live on is earth so it's not real if i said mars or something," you told him matter-of-factly, and then looked at both nobara and yuji for certainty, your voice low. "...right, guys? i'm right aren't i?"

both of them nodded:

"yeah i think so..."

"yeah..."

"live-able's not a word."

the three of you stared at him wordlessly.

"that's what you got out of that?" you said, voicing all three of your thoughts and cutting through the tense silence.

megumi ignored you, looking back at the tv screen with disdain.

"you guys are stupid, we won't understand anything happening if we skip the first two movies."

"we'll be fine," said yuji, standing up and stretching as he walked over to his mini-fridge beside his console. he looked over his shoulder as he called out to the three of you. "sprite or dr pepper?"

"sprite!"

"dr pepper!"

"water."

...

"you're so boring, porcupine!"

"yeah, who chugs a water during a horror movie?"

"i mean i have a bottle here but i didn't think anyone would actually want it —"

"shut up. all of you. yeah you too, mermaid."

you barely took the time to actually acknowledge what he was saying, barely took the time to realise that he had called you a mermaid, but it didn't matter anyway. whatever his response would be, polite or not, there was no other response you'd give than one that would insult your grumpy friend.

"i'm half convinced that you're really yuji's gramps."

yuji had come around and handed you your requested drinks with a laugh. he flopped down on his beanbag and lifted the remote with his spare hand to click on the triangle to finally play the movie.

"why am i friends with you guys?" megumi sighed, a tick in his jaw as he glared at the tv screen.

"don't be rude," said nobara, and the hiss that megumi had let out during her loud exclamation told you that she must have pinched him too.

"no nobara, this is development!" you clapped excitedly, the intro of the movie playing before the four of you. "it took him years to admit we were friends!"

megumi extended his arm over the back of the couch to tug at your hair. "i never said —"

"— he said it by accident too."

"i don't like this conversation."

nobara nudged your side and used her foot to do the same to yuji.

"he doesn't like the movie, he doesn't like the conversation. what do you like, huh?"

yuji, who had been blissfully unaware of the verbal battle going on behind him, looked over his shoulder and grinned at you. even in the dim lighting, and the flashes of light in curtesy of the film playing before you all, you could see the mischief underlining his toothy grin.

the both of you answered nobara's question at the same time:

"hana."

three out of four of you burst out laughing, struggling to breathe as megumi rested his chin on his left palm and glared intensely at the poor football plushie on the floor of yuji's room. he angrily shoved off nobara's fingers that had curled around his bicep, grumbling to himself as he did so.

"his fated one," you continued, chortling as yuji threw his head back against your knees.

hana was a girl that the four of you had met during your first few social studies classes at the beginning of the academic year. she had been lurking around the four of you for a little while, it seemed odd how she'd also sit on the table in the cafeteria right besides yours and simply stare. she clearly did not seem to mind that she had been caught (except the first three times it happened, and then after that, she'd had no shame).

after a lengthy discussion, one of which came to all sorts of theories, the most meaningful one being that hana was an undercover serial killer out for you all because of the fact that you had literally accused her of it when you'd had enough of being jump-scared by her mere existence, you found out that she was not a serial killer, she did not want to kill you, and she liked megumi fushiguro romantically.

it took a while for it to sink in:

she liked megumi fushiguro.

romantically.

and she was not shy about it at all, announcing that megumi was her 'fated' one in front of the entire class, being the first to offer herself up as a partner to him in paired work, and so much more. your favourite was when she'd introduced herself as 'hana fushiguro'.

but while megumi had disliked this very much, the rest of your little friendship circle revelled in it, wringing it out like orange in juicer.

there had been one golden opportunity that you used to push megumi and hana together. the task had been to create a poster of knowledge about the certain subtopic the class had been studying for the semester. in pairs.

yuji demanded that you be partnered up with him and you nearly obliged, but when you caught sight of a blonde haired, ditzy girl making her way towards an oblivious megumi, you stopped short of yourself and pushed yuji away from you.

"get away from me, pinkie pie," you said, ignoring yuji's 'rude!', waiting and watching as megumi strode towards you with a fierce look in his eyes. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeks as they slowly turned pink with embarrassment.

you shook your head at him, silently communicating that you would not be his partner even if it meant that you got paired up with malakai, the class emo who always claimed that the 'darkness was consuming' him (and also visibly glitches when he does not get called by his short name - kai).

"y/n," said megumi, and you even dared to believe that he was almost at the point of begging. however, after being friends with the poor boy, you were well aware of his pesky stubborn nature.

still, that had not stopped you from being hopeful.

"maybe if you got on your knees and begged," you started cheekily.

megumi gawked at you, in megumi-fashion, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

"you sadist."

"actually, i'm a masochist."

"..."

"..."

"that's not what it means —"

"anyways, my partner's nobara so..." you told him honestly, and the dark-haired girl had supported you as you leaned against her table she'd been seated at. "don't leave hana waiting."

megumi sighed irritably, then turned around to lock eyes with yuji, but the traitor had spun away with a too-loud laugh and babbled about how the darkness was actually very amusing as he seated himself next to malakai. megumi's eye twitched. nobody ever partnered up with malakai. it said a lot about how determined his foolish friends were.

and as if his day could not have gotten worse, miss haqq, the teacher, had finally spoken.

"megumi, why are we not partnered up, huh?" she asked, though not unkindly. "who's your partner?"

"y/n's my partner —"

you slammed your hand on the table you'd been leaning on, nobara barely flinched, and then stood up properly.

"lies!" you stated, angrily staring at your unsurprised teacher.

she let out a small breath. "y/n we're not in theatre class right now. and megumi?"

megumi shrugged, glancing at you. you bristled.

"miss he's lying," you said honestly, facing him again to stare at him critically. "who taught you to do that?"

"you," said megumi, as though it were a question even a year old baby could answer.

you stared at him, his answer recycling itself in your mind over and over again, making you become well aware of the comical silence the classroom had been left in.

"well..." you began, unsure of where you were planning on going with this, "you just... admitted... to lying... so..."

"right, megumi, find someone who's freeeee," miss haqq interrupted swiftly, extending the final letter of her sentence in an almost sing-song voice as her eyes darted left and right around the classroom before they stopped short of someone behind him. megumi wanted to die. "ah, hana's not got a partner. there you go, i knew my counting wasn't wrong."

but it hadn't ended there. megumi had, with extremely low spirits, seated himself next to the blonde girl and tried his hardest on discussing merely work-related things, all while praying that her insistent staring and odd statements would cease to exist sooner rather than later. but the universe didn't seem to be on his side. not when she first confessed to him, and certainly not now.

"y'know," hana began, in that low voice of hers she always used when talking to him specifically, "you have really nice eyes."

megumi continued to write on their large a4 sheet. "thanks," he'd said, uncomfortable. "my dad gave them."

you and nobara had been sitting in front of him, respectively working on your own poster when you overheard the awkward conversation taking place behind you. after exchanging a look of amusement with nobara, you turned in your seat to speak to hana seriously.

"i usually fight the toji... he's your father-in-law by the way."

you turned back around before megumi could spew out any nonsense about you. nobara had been gripping onto your lower arm the entire time, trying not to giggle.

you hadn't seen it, but hana beamed at the distraught boy sitting next to her, eyes radiant and bright.

"i know your dad's name now," said hana thoughtfully, and you couldn't help but think that toji would not be happy about that, but she didn't have to know that, did she? she continued to speak as though she was sitting on cloud nine itself. "it's good, i'll be more familiar with him. this must be a sign, your own friend knows... we're fated to be together."

you pinched nobara's thigh, though not had enough to bruise or hurt her. she took your signal with a small nod and leaned over the head of her chair to address the dazed girl behind her. megumi continued to glare.

"y'know it's funny," said nobara, a weird tone to her voice that megumi did not like very much, "'cause just the other day, megumi told me that fate brought you guys together."

hurriedly, nobara returned back to your a4 sheet and began working as though she hadn't just crafted megumi's doom. the two of you quietly laughed together, though it wasn't very discreet. megumi's head ached with every simultaneous shake of your shoulders.

hana was very pleased at nobara's comment, perhaps even more pleased than what you had told her prior to that. she glanced at megumi expectantly. he sighed, his grip on his pencil tightening, showcasing his blue veins.

"look —" he began, but hana had moved her chair closer to his, the loud screech of the legs of her chair against the floor momentarily leaving him deaf.

"i mean... i said the same thing before, but i never said it to you, so you couldn't have known —"

"actually you said it very loudly," interrupted megumi, trying not to sound unkind, though it wasn't very easy when everyone around him told him that he was naturally rude. "and also i never said that."

hana did not break eye contact with him as she sighed, her cheek resting against her palm lazily. megumi felt something weird simmer in his stomach. was that guilt?

it couldn't be: he had kindly rejected hana's advances countless times. it was starting to irk him now. he was only twelve, what did he know about crushes and romance? and it certainly didn't help that the three idiots that were his friends always pushed the notion that he also felt something for hana. he could not express the thought enough: he did not like hana.

"i'm sorry," he said, when it became clear that she would simply sit in silence and watch him carefully. "i don't feel the same way."

but hana merely hummed in what seemed like content. megumi was used to it. she had this thing where any rejection to her advances would go in through one ear and out through the other. so why did he still feel the slightest bit of guilt circling around his tummy?

"well," she began slowly, palm raised up as she gestured over to the two girls sitting in front of her (you and nobara), "that's two out of three of your friends that think we're good together. i just need one more for confirmation —"

"yeah i wouldn't count on it," megumi interrupted swiftly, his eyes slowly travelling over to the darkest corner of the room where yuji had been forced to sit in in order to accommodate malakai's needs. the emo didn't like sitting in the light, apparently.

but he instantly regretted his choice of movement, for yuji had caught his eye, and megumi did not like the way it gleamed with mischief. he regrettably watched as yuji stood up, addressing malakai before doing whatever the hell he planned on doing, no doubt something to do with megumi and hana.

"all right mal— i mean kai," stammered yuji, wary of uttering his full name by accident. the whole point of his speech was to make the emo feel at ease with yuji's disappearance, not to draw more attention to it. "i got something to do, so i'll be back, all right?" he explained with a grin. "the darkness around here isn't really vibing with me anyway —"

"no."

yuji's wrist had been caught by a hand colder than his mini-fridge when he'd attempted to leave. he flinched, looking down at malakai who was gripping onto him for dear life, snarling. if discomfort was an image, it'd be this very sight for yuji.

"you must not leave," said malakai, creating the very scene yuji had been desperate to avoid.

"dude, let go of me," he started, pulling at his arm to free himself of malakai's grip, but it was iron tight, cold, and incredibly strong. "dude —"

"yuji itadori," stated malakai, and yuji felt an icy shiver run down his spine. no one had ever uttered his name with such spleen. it scared him.

but before yuji could do anything else, malakai had bared his teeth at him and hissed. yuji stumbled back, visibly and audibly frightened, making a harsher attempt at getting away from his partner, an attempt that included knocking the entire table down and pushing his chair back to run.

everyone's heads had turned to the back of the classroom.

yuji scowled as malakai made an attempt to hide under the fallen table. the emo did not like attention. how ironic when he behaved like that.

"well now there's no point in moving," the pink-haired boy sighed, grimacing at the emo's weird actions. "i can just say it from here: hey hana!"

she perked up. megumi did not miss the wink she sent him. now looking at malakai's need to isolate himself from everyone, megumi thought a deep part of him understood it. not that he'd ever communicate that to anyone, and certainly not you.

"megumi told me in the locker rooms that your — er — your light basically — er — con— contradicts! — yeah that's the word — his darkness!"

"you mean 'contrasts'," said megumi, scowling.

as all eyes turned to him, particularly the pressing ones belonging to hana, megumi recoiled, ignoring your praise to yuji at catching him out.

"i never said that by the way," he quickly assured hana, but she seemed to be in her own world.

"really?" you added cheekily, "because you knew exactly what yuji meant."

"shut up, mermaid."

"now that's out of line!" you snapped, standing up and pointing a particularly sharp pencil at megumi.

"stop, y/n," said nobara, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts as you averted your gaze over to her and slowly dropped your arm back to your side. she was right. perhaps a physical argument wasn't exactly wise. but nobara wasn't finished; she held up her scissors. "use this instead!"

you threw the pencil over your shoulder, uncaring of where it landed and joyfully took the sharp pair of scissors nobara had offered you.

megumi shook his head, snapping himself out of his own thoughts and angrily pointing at the movie playing in front of you all, his other hand fiddling with his water bottle just to have something to do with it, feeling hot and bothered.

"can we watch the movie?" he voiced, visibly annoyed.

the three of you decided that your joint discussion about megumi and hana would be put to an end seeing as you made your poor friend go through enough torment for a day. but while megumi assumed that distracting everyone from the topic at hand would be beneficial for himself, to give himself some peace and quiet and free of any and all annoyances, he found that this simply amplified the chatter out of you.

megumi had been correct, which wasn't a surprise at all.

watching the third movie before watching the first two created a lot of confusion, that of which couldn't have been kept inside you. annoyingly enough, you just had to voice it encouraging yuji and nobara to engage with you too:

"hey, who's that guy?" you thought aloud.

"that's her dad, i think," answered nobara thoughtfully. "i think his name is alex."

"no, alex is her brother," said yuji, pointing at the screen. "her dad's name is quinn."

"no it's not!"

"yes it is! isn't it, y/n?"

"no, the dad's name is elise," you said, matter-of-factly.

megumi inwardly groaned. "elise is a girl name. that's not her dad."

"okay, so explain why your name is megumi then?" you shot back at him, accusatory.

he grumbled something under his breath. you took that as a win. but it didn't end there.

not only were the characters confusing to the three of you, the story was too:

"what the hell is the man who can't breathe?" you voiced, curious and also simultaneously angry. "why won't they tell us what happened to him? how the hell are we supposed to know?"

"right?" agreed yuji loudly. "and why's he wearing an oxygen mask?"

"clearly he doesn't know style," tutted nobara, before leaning further more into your side. "why is the demon after them specifically?"

"yeah, what the hell is that about?"

"i have no idea what's going on here."

you perked up brightly. "actually, i do."

yuji turned around and beamed, though you could see the slightly frightened look in his eyes.

"you do?" he asked, hopeful.

you nodded and went off on a tangent explaining the story:

"yeah, so, basically that girl that was on the screen like a few seconds ago — i forgot her name —"

"oh you mean elise?" said nobara.

"no, not her —"

"quinn?" said yuji.

you clicked your fingers at him and nodded. "yeah! yeah, her — so she's looking to find out why the demon killed her in another life, but like, the guy — her dad, right — he's trying to stop her because he knows it'll break her. and you know dave?"

you waited expectantly. yuji and nobara shrugged.

"i don't remember a dave," your pink-haired friend commented, scratching his head while he spoke.

nobara voiced her agreement:

"yeah, i must've missed him."

"well anyways! dave is secretly the demon, so..."

yuji stared at you before looking away and nodding slowly as if he were piecing the entire plot in his head together. nobara pulled out her phone, unlocking it and muttering.

"i think we should fact-check it —"

"no don't fact-check it," you said quickly.

"idiots," grumbled megumi.

the movie progressed, just as your confusion did too.

"why did that guy beg for elise's help again?" said yuji, but only after chugging a large amount of his dr pepper, burping ungracefully after.

"ew, have some shame," snapped nobara, kicking yuji's side and relishing in the yelp he let out. "but yeah, why did that guy beg for elise's help again?"

you shrugged. "i don't know guys, let's ask megumi."

"yeah that's a good idea —"

"oh yeah, megumi —"

"don't ask megumi."

the three of you stared at him. megumi frowned.

"i don't know who said that."

"cut the crap, porcupine," you said, rolling your eyes. he looked away, guilty. "we all know it was the red-faced demon —"

he stared at you once again, deadpanned. "sure."

you ignored him. "anyways, why's the demon after their family, megumi?"

before megumi could answer, yuji cut in:

"it's getting a little scary, y'know... hey megumi, how did elise become a ghost?"

"i —"

nobara poked megumi's side. "hey, did elise kill josh or something? i don't get it."

"that's not —"

"porcupine why's quinn trying to contact her mom? why can't she just call her instead of doing rituals? ... porcupine? porcupine!"

megumi had left the couch to stand by the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to the movie.

"mom, can you pick me up?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2015-2016 seventh grade

megumi had been off. distant. unavailable, in a way.

it didn't seem like an issue to everyone else, but you could see it in the way he zoned out off conversations, found interest in next-to-nothing, and not even malakai's advances to nobara made him flinch. to an outsider, it would've seemed like megumi on a bad day (when he was acting grumpier than usual). to you, it seemed like something different and foreign was on his mind.

you didn't press him for information, not when he'd given you a short goodbye just before home-time, acting as though the two of you couldn't have walked together like normal seeing as you lived opposite one another, and not even when he'd seemed extra quiet during the last friday night dinner at satoru's.

he was always a quiet kid, sure, but something was missing, and though you couldn't quite put a finger on it, you knew you weren't overreacting.

in fact, even yuji and nobara agreed with you. apparently, during the training for the school's next football game, megumi had been completely out of it that he had to be benched for the rest of the game — according to yuji.

at the moment, the two of you were sitting together for homeroom. the day had just about started, and though you had been forced to sit at the very front, right across the teacher's desk (apparently you couldn't be trusted to sit elsewhere) you disobediently sat right next to megumi at the back of the classroom, ignoring his look of confusion, the most emotion he'd shown within the past week.

"what're you doing?"

"shut up, porcupine," you hissed, slumping in your seat so you wouldn't get caught. "you'll draw attention!"

"you'll get in trouble," he said blankly.

you grinned lazily. "that's what you said about... eight or nine years ago when i sat next to you in kindergarten, remember?"

megumi seemed almost dazed, as though he were in a dream. he'd been displaying odd emotions for the last week, but you'd never seen him so pliable like now, eyes focused yet unfocused, drawn to you and only you as if everybody else didn't exist. was it something you said? was it something you'd done?

you didn't know how to go about it, so you merely laughed, just as megumi answered your question.

"yeah," he said, frowning slightly.

"and then you weren't just wrong," you continued carelessly. "you were so, so wrong, that we even ended up becoming best friends! you didn't see that coming, did you?"

megumi stared at you. you were too busy wondering why nobara had allowed malakai into the seat next to her, though perhaps she hadn't actually allowed him. it explained why she was voicing to him an array of all types of colourful threats.

you glanced back at megumi, noticing his dark pupils following every movement of yours. you laughed.

"megumi stop staring at me," you chortled, covering your face and finding it difficult to speak and laugh at the same time. your stomach hurt as a result. "stop why do you look possessed! ... okay megumi it's not funny anymore, you're scaring me."

you frowned when he rolled his eyes at you. at least some part of him was still alive. you had an idea to bring back every part of him, even more so when his gaze landed on you once more, his poker-face falling slowly. he almost looked upset.

"so i came to a revelation yesterday," you told him, smiling. "i think the earth's flat."

you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, expecting a major reaction, expecting a number of colourful insults, expecting him, megumi.

all you got was the silence that had been radiating off of him for the entire week. at least you knew for sure that you weren't imagining things: your friend was dealing with something so big, it distracted him from your outrageous declaration.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the walk home wasn't exactly pleasant either. you did most of the talking, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but before all of this unknown drama circulating with megumi, he had the decency to give his input here and there. now, however, it was simply as though you were talking to a brick wall, barely any response to your comments. if you were lucky enough, you'd receive a small grunt or a nod of acknowledgement. but it was fruitless, essentially.

it was almost boring.

you were never bored with megumi. ever.

you had no idea what had him so occupied, but your attempts at conversation had become so dry, you opted to remain silent the rest of the way, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you gazed at the houses you passed by, internally questioning and critiquing the exterior design, knowing that mentioning it aloud to megumi would be less exciting than in your head.

the two of you had made it past the traffic lights by this point, now entering the calm scenery that was your neighbourhood. the roads were empty, only occasionally did a few cars make their way through. the sun had only just started to set, still high in the sky, but vibrant enough to blind you with its soft, orange glow. as the two of you reached the end of the road and turned left to where your houses would be after another few minutes of walking, you spotted one of the houses that had been newly sold to a family of four. it seemed that their moving in process was still ongoing, for the van that carried all their boxes was still parked in front of the house.

you had half a mind to go over and introduce yourselves, find some excitement in forcing megumi to do some socialising with you and relishing in the little scowl he'd sport that nobody but you would be able to notice, but megumi had turned and walked the opposite way before you could say anything.

"let's go this way," was all he'd said, knowing you'd follow him questioningly.

and follow him questioningly you did, turning around and demanding answers for why he insisted on taking the long way home instead of the time-efficient way. it was unlike him. but you'd noticed, within this entire week, megumi hadn't really been himself, had he?

the very last thing you wanted to do was pressure him into telling you what parasite he had become victim to. yet, you had no idea how to approach such a serious topic. the two of you had never tested such waters before. everything you'd been through together had been comical, humorous, never once drowning in the sea of weighty situations.

you just weren't made for it (even if megumi looked the part).

"at least carry me if you're gonna make me walk the long way home," you complained loudly.

megumi didn't respond. you watched him with furrowed brows before giving up the amusing act altogether and sighed loudly.

"what's going on?" you asked him, extending an arm to grab at his and half his movements.

the streets were void of any pressing ears. he had no excuse hiding whatever it was for longer.

megumi didn't shrug you off like you expected him to. instead, he stared at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed.

"you're being weird," you added, when it became quite clear that he wouldn't respond. your hand fell limp at your side again. "i don't like it."

to your surprise, instead of walking off without a second thought, he shrugged. "don't know what you're talking about."

"don't play dumb with me," you said firmly. "yuji told me you got benched."

megumi's brow twitched. he didn't look too pleased about you knowing, it seemed. you felt like you were walking on eggshells. you hated it.

"fine," you said gently, though your expression remained fierce. "don't tell me. but i —"

you let out a small breath, finding difficulty in searching for the right words to use. you were angry at yourself, but also at the education system. schools should focus on training kids on how to approach situations like these, for you'd never felt so clueless in your life.

"i'm — i'm always here," you struggled to spit out, "if you want to talk."

megumi stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. of course, it was the usual monotonous look, the standard half-lidded eyes and small scowl, jaw tense which would have made an outsider assume he was angry. but you knew better. even with that odd mask, there was always something lingering behind it: that was his happy face as well as his sad, angry, confused, shocked face.

with that list came a new addition, the one displayed shamelessly before you, though you couldn't quite place what it was. though as much as you wanted to discover this nameless emotion, time was cruel, and megumi had already cut it short by choosing to walk the long way home.

you took a small step back.

"okay now laugh," you said hurriedly.

megumi recoiled. "huh?"

"laugh," you repeated, unrelenting. "this is so weird so i need you to laugh."

he raised a sharp brow at you. "look who you're talking to."

you slapped your hand against your forehead in shock. "you're right!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began the long trek back to your houses. "if you laugh, the earth would turn upside down!"

"that's not possible."

the walk home had been a lot more pleasant than the ones you'd experienced with him the last four days.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the sky resembled a painting you'd seen a few years back when you took a trip to the art museum with uncle ogi and your mom: it was dark, very dark, but the sparkles dotted around each cloud illuminated the night sky, brightening it enough for you to examine it better than one who stared at a sky with no stars whatsoever. you'd heard that apparently in some countries, the pollution was so bad to the point where the stars weren't even the slightest bit visible; you couldn't imagine that. what was a sky with no stars? what was a day with no sun? what was a night with no moon?

what were you without megumi?

no, really, where the hell was he? he said he'd meet you up on his rooftop in a few, but you'd been idly watching the clouds move above your head for a good ten minutes. as beautiful as it was, it wasn't much of an experience without your grump of a friend himself.

content with watching the stars alone, megumi had finally decided to show himself, climbing up from the ladder attached to the roof of the house and pulling himself up through the ceiling window to meet you. he crawled his way over, explaining his absence.

"dad needed me to hide the broken vase from mom."

your brows knitted themselves together. "the china one?"

"yeah," he nodded, sitting next to you and hanging his elbows off of his bent knees. "i didn't help him."

"i didn't think you would," you admitted with a laugh. "wasn't it the fonthill dragon jar? the one sold for twelve milli—"

"— million dollars?" he finished off bitterly. "yeah, that's why i didn't help him."

you hummed, leaning towards him slightly to speak in hushed tones for fear of any eavesdroppers that might run off to megumi's mother and snitch.

"it wasn't a very pretty vase, though —"

"just say it's ugly —"

"— yeah it's ugly."

it was quiet then, quiet enough that if one paid close attention to the scene, the sounds of crickets may be heard. it wasn't a chilly night, hence the lack of thick sweaters on both you and megumi, but you didn't feel as warm as one would have expected. you'd been feeling this way for the past week. whatever megumi had been actively hiding from you had caused a small rift, one you weren't very fond of.

you watched him carefully out of your peripheral vision. he seemed less tense, less angry. his shoulders had drooped, as if a bunch of weights that had been accumulating on them had dropped significantly. megumi's jaw had remained tight the entire week, yet as you stared at the line leading up to his chin and mouth, you noticed how relaxed it seemed. in turn, your jaw loosened, the distance between you and him closing. perhaps whatever your friend was going through was now long forgotten, long over.

"i'm gonna tell mom about the vase," he said, breaking the tense silence as the two of you gazed up at the stars blinking down at you. the moon was full tonight.

"i expected nothing less," you replied, chuckling.

"and the earth isn't flat, dummy."

you could feel his eyes burning holes on your right cheek. you repressed the urge to burst out laughing.

at least you knew for certain, now, that megumi was okay. his consistent need to be right finally returning after its long hiatus, and though it had been extremely annoying over the last eight years, you found it rather endearing too (you'd take a bullet before admitting it to him). megumi wasn't megumi without his unshakeable personality.

"so you were listening to me after all," you stated, averting you gaze from the captivating the stars to the moon sitting next to you.

he blinked at you, bemused.

"i always listen."

and for the rest of that night, you couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever megumi had been hiding, it had something to do with you.

you were glad it was in the past now.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2016-2017 eighth grade

mr andersen's homework had been left untouched on your desk for about two weeks (despite being given an extension because he was well aware just how bad at math you were). you were tired, exhausted, and drained: middle school was no joke. it was times like these — where some random dude decided that adding letters to the already-difficult math equations — that you felt like taking a knife and driving it clean through your heart.

you got up, a lightbulb hovering just above your head as you beamed, scrambling to take your phone out of charge and scrolling through your contact list.

— go-go-go-joe! (27 missed calls) — nobara <3 — yuji :) (1 missed call) — mother — porcupine 👺

there he was — porcupine — you clicked his number and pressed the phone to your ear, lying flat on your bed once again. it dialled for all of five seconds before you heard his grumpy voice on the other end of the line:

"what do you want?"

you sighed, putting on your theatre skills to show.

"megumi..." you groaned weakly, following that with a fake cough.

"..."

you coughed again. "megumi — ahem — i'm sick."

"sucks to be you."

you repressed the desire to start yelling at him, cursing him out due to his lack of empathy. it doesn't matter whether you were faking an illness or not — as a friend, megumi was supposed to offer help, advice, ask whether you were doing well or not. you remembered a time where his mom had to take him to therapy, concerned about his lack of feeling. it was a funny day, that was.

you tried again, coughing twice more this time.

"i think i have a — *cough* — a fever," you said, trying your best to sound as physically weak as possible. you got up, gently swiping your hair away from your face as you slowly made your way to the window. " *cough* — i can't do a-any homework today..."

"that so?" said megumi.

you nodded, almost forgetting that he couldn't see you. you draped one of your arms over your waist, the other hand still pressing your phone to your ear.

it had rained a little while ago, puddles forming by the sidewalk. the grass looked damp yet very shiny and silky beneath the weak light protruding from the sun, its very presence hiding behind the prominent clouds, thick as cotton candy.

"i just — i can't get out of bed right now — *cough* — megumi."

"yeah, must be difficult."

your lip curled. "yes! — i mean — *cough* — yes... i'm so glad you understand."

megumi responded almost immediately. such a good friend, you thought. you almost felt bad for deceiving him, but it just had to be done. perhaps if you had megumi's brains for math, none of this would be happening. so in a way, it was all his fault.

yeah, that made sense. he brought this upon himself.

"you probably can't stand up straight either," he said, and you almost let out a chuckle.

"mhm — it's so — *cough* — ugh, i hate this." you decided it was time to cage the dog. "i was thinking... erm... *cough, cough* ... maybe you could do my homework — *cough* — like last time? i'm really, really sick."

"yeah, sick to the point where you can't get out of bed —"

"yes, megumi! see — *cough* — see i knew you'd understand... you're such a great friend!"

absentmindedly, you fiddled with the fabric of your beige curtains.

"maybe you should look outside to help you feel better," he suggested.

you grinned, looking up without realising it.

"that's a good ide—"

you stopped short of yourself, met with the sight of megumi staring right through your soul from his own bedroom window. lo and behold, one of the disadvantages of living right across from your best friend.

you froze.

"you should probably use your mermaid powers and heal yourself —"

"that's not how it works!" you snapped, furious.

you stumbled, your hands immediately grabbing the curtains and circling yourself with it, hiding yourself from view. and before he could embarrass you any further (because he absolutely would, that was megumi fushiguro), you hung up, heart returning to its usual pace and eyes wide with shock.

you hurriedly unravelled yourself from the curtains and shut them closed, walking off in annoyance.

"creep," you muttered under your breath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

fear choked you as you gasped for breath, your lungs constricting in on itself, the back of your knees burning with each stride. with every step, the voice in the back of your head encouraged you to continue, reminding you that you had to keep it up; you only countered back with the question of whether it was all worth it or not. it certainly hadn't seemed like it, with the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your warm skin and your palms growing increasingly sweaty.

running had never been an issue for you. you quite liked it when you were a kid, enjoying such activities like playing tag or red-light-green-light or chasing megumi (that one was, perhaps, your most favourite of them all, despite megumi's disdain).

now, however, as you ran for your life, you hated every bit of it. you hated the way the air slapped at your face in your hasty strides, you hated the way the adrenaline ran beneath your skin with excitement you couldn't quite understand, and you hated the way you could barely breathe, as if a block of wood had been lodged into your throat. you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way. coach yaga had made you run laps before, but none of them were as painful as this.

and it was all satoru's fault, which no one had let him forget the entire marathon towards the airport.

"why on earth did you suggest taking a shortcut here if you were already on time?" demanded uncle ogi, the lines on his forehead becoming more and more prominent as everyone dragged their bags and belongings with them.

you'd finally entered the building after what felt like ten long and dawdling years. the summer heat had already made you feel faint and uncomfortable, and the marathon everyone had been collectively (forcefully) participating in had only made it a hundred times worse. the sticky feeling beneath your pits and arms felt like you'd just emerged from out of a pool of your own seat. your shirt stuck to your skin like glue.

megumi's dad spoke up angrily.

"he's an idiot, that's why."

you couldn't help but think that he barely looked fazed by the constant running. he only seemed to care about the lack of time everyone had to get to the airport on time.

but uncle ogi did not seem to find that a valid reason, abruptly turning to look at him with visible frustration.

"and why the hell did you fools follow him?"

maki, who was running silently in front of both you and megumi, had reached up and pulled at her father's ponytail. his head had practically snapped backwards to glare down at her.

surprised (and pleasantly amused), you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to not only breathe, but use that breather to let out a loud laugh. megumi was not pleased by this at all; his hand that had been clasping yours for the entirety of the adventure had tightened harshly, pulling at you to snap you out of your reverie.

"stop," he said, looking dishevelled as the two of you fell straight back into your routine and sped past several strangers behind the rest of your family.

"i did," you responded cheekily, complying with each pull and tug of megumi's hand.

despite all the noise ringing in your ears, the chatter of the public the and cries of several babies, you could still hear maki's harsh voice cut through the air.

"stop fussing," she snapped. "you don't have to be here, y'know."

the lines on uncle ogi's forehead disappeared to accentuate the crease newly-formed between his brows as he glared down at her. oddly enough, you thought he seemed to be faring well with all the running, despite his old age.

"i'm the driver, smart ass!" he shot back, silencing maki as she rolled her eyes at him.

he wasn't lying: all of you had travelled in two separate cars to arrive at the airport. in your mom's car, your mom, satoru, toji, megumi's mom, tsumiki (toji's goddaughter), you and megumi had been in. in uncle ogi's car, uncle ogi, maki, mai, suguru, and mimiko and nanako (suguru's adopted daughters).

satoru had messed around with the gps in the passenger seat at some point, insisting that he knew a shortcut with such confidence, your mom had been too lazy to care about the way he'd toggled with it, brows furrowed with the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his smooth lips. uncle ogi had been following your mom's car, so collectively, everyone ended up being late.

uncle ogi wasn't done there though, his gaze hardening even further before he added his final comment. "and what did i say about pulling my hair?"

maki turned to you and scowled when you kept the smile plastered over your face.

"you wait till we get home —"

"ogi stop threatening maki!" megumi's mom called out from ahead, her voice faint yet every bit demanding.

your legs had long since given up on their own. each movement they made only felt like someone had sent multiple bullets to drive themselves into you, tiring you out and evoking so much pain from you. you couldn't go on any longer, not with the feeling of your shirt practically suffocating you amongst the heat of the crowded airport. you ached to feel some cool air brush against your warm skin, however, the longer you continued to run, the less likely that would ever happen.

you raised your head slightly, chest heaving as you eyed the muscled back belonging to none other than toji himself. your left hand, feeling too warm in megumi's, had been released from its gentle shackles when megumi immediately stepped away from you, almost as if he practically sensed the exact thought you had in mind. you didn't complain, bending your knees (ignoring the momentary burning sensation it brought you) and jumping up, arms gripping onto toji's broad shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunting and struggling as you adjusted your hold on him.

"that's better," you sighed, grip iron-like as he shook himself in a failed attempt to throw you off. to someone watching from afar, they probably thought he looked like a dog.

"get off me, gremlin —"

"it wouldn't kill you to hold her for a bit," said megumi's mom, and that in itself was enough to silence toji. he begrudgingly jogged with you on his back, making no attempt to hold onto your legs as he dragged his — and his wife's — suitcases along.

your mom looked back, no longer running and now confused at the statement before seeing your face hidden in the tall man's shoulders. she sighed.

"y/n, get off of—" she began, before turning away and catching up to suguru, who was running beside his best friend whilst carrying nanako and mimiko, each girl under each arm. "ugh, i tried to care."

jumping onto toji's hard back was probably the best idea you came up with all day. looking down at everyone made you feel superior. the fact that you no longer needed to run along with everyone made you feel superior. the burning at the back of your knees had started to dim, and simultaneously, your heart beat had slowly started to return back down to its normal pace. however, now there was a slight strain in your arms, curtesy of toji being completely unhelpful in keeping you propped up on him, forcing you to hold onto him with all your might. though you'd still argue that this was far better than all that dreadful and tiring running.

you surveyed everything else around you, watching it all pass by in a blur: you could barely tell that the blue waiting seats were, indeed, blue waiting seats with how fast toji seemed to be sprinting. once at the back of the group, now you were nearly at the front, and through it all, megumi still seemed to be at your side, considerably shorter than you were used to.

you laughed, kicking his side with your foot.

"i'm taller than you now, porcupine!"

you couldn't tell whether he was scowling or not, but you'd bet your life that he was.

"normalcy has been restored," you sighed dreamily.

"hey, which gate?" asked megumi's mom, her hands bare and empty since her husband silently offered to carry her things. that was before this entire predicament. you imagined that he definitely regretted that now.

you couldn't see satoru's face, only met with the sight of the back of his head, but you heard him well nonetheless.

"terminal four," he'd answered, and even suguru stared at him in bewilderment.

"yeah, we know that," said toji, already frustrated as it was. "what gate?"

silence only followed after that. satoru's dark haired companion turned back once more with a scowl, gently lowering his two girls back to their feet despite their obvious discontent.

"for fu— he doesn't know what gate," he stated, annoyed. he then shoved the white-haired male. "give me back our tickets —"

"what?" satoru riposted, shocked and angry though he had no right to be. "why?"

suguru looked like he wanted to throttle him. "'cause you can't be trusted, idiot!"

everyone had stopped running by this point, meaning that there was no use for you to be held up by toji's useful back. he seemed to acknowledge this as the adults began to argue, shaking you off with more force than prior. you got the message, hopping down from your personal vehicle and stumbling into megumi's side. the boy held onto your arms to stop you from falling, and you pushed him away in thanks.

"the hell?" he questioned lowly.

you shrugged, observing the adults with a look of mild curiosity.

"does that mean you'll miss your flight?" you commented briefly.

"this is so embarrassing," mai added lowly, turning away from the unhinged people that were your family. "why did we even have to come along if we're not the ones leaving?"

"to say goodbye," you responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

there were a lot of things you liked about mai, but equally, a lot of things you also disliked about her too. how entitled she acted, how rude she could sometimes be, how maki was just all around the better twin, though you never admitted this out loud. though your silence did speak volumes, even if you didn't know it.

"we'll see them again in a few weeks," she said airily. "how long are you staying there, megumi?"

he shrugged. you didn't think he was too fond her either. although, megumi didn't really like anyone, so that wasn't a fair argument. when this entire trip had been planned, the main issue he had was the fact that the only people that would be going that are his age are mimiko and nanako, and over the years, there was this unspoken competition between satoru's kids (you and megumi) and suguru's kids (mimiko and nanako). as amusing as it was to the adults, megumi took it quite seriously. he didn't think he could deal with them on his own.

you weren't accompanying him on this trip: it would be just him, satoru, his mom and dad, tsumiki, suguru, and mimiko and nanako.

he wouldn't communicate it to you, he wouldn't even text it to you, but he didn't think it'd be very enjoyable without you.

for one, he would have to deal with satoru's constant teasing all on his own (on the very rare occasion that you'd argue against satoru, you were quite helpful). he would be forced to interact with the twins on his own by his mother (usually his mom made the both of you do that, together). there were multiple other things he'd have to do alone on this trip. none of them would be as... dare he think... exciting as hanging out with you.

even throughout all of that, he was beyond grateful that he at least had tsumiki tagging along with him.

it still wouldn't be the same without you since you and tsumiki were not alike. though you were both kind hearted and held very highly in megumi's good graces, tsumiki was an entire grade older than the two of you and held this motherly nature around her despite it. she was, in better terms, like the sister he never had.

"maybe you won't be separated from us after all, porcupine," you said, gesturing to the adults that were still arguing (suguru had satoru in a headlock somehow, when did that happen?).

"yeah, you'll just miss your flight," added maki, nudging your side. that was probably her biggest way of showing affection. you'll take it.

you watched the scene unfold before you: toji and satoru were absolutely ripping each other apart with insults thrown back and forth. megumi's mom seemed to be the one trying to calm things down with the aid of suguru who usually never sided with toji on anything, but seemed to have no choice but to. all the while, uncle ogi was taking up his anger with your mom, who seemed to only care about leaving this place sooner rather than later.

"i'll sit on you," toji had threatened, fist raised at the blue-eyed male.

satoru stood up straight, head to head with him in response.

"yeah?" he challenged, smug. "so what, you're saying you're fat then? is that it?"

toji recoiled. if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you would probably spot the smoke flying out of his ears.

"what?" he demanded, voice carrying around the area.

"hey y/n!" satoru had randomly yelled, addressing you but his eyes refusing to leave toji's.

you froze, unsure of whether you liked where this was going. you had half a mind to step behind megumi and use his tall frame to conceal yourself. knowing your friend, you knew he'd probably be a traitor and step away from you instead.

"y/n! he said he's fat! did you hear that?"

you wanted to jump into a hole and just lay there as time went on and as the world moved on. nothing was more embarrassing to you than that horrific time where you truly believed that toji fushiguro was a 'fat man'. praying daily for everyone to forget that ever happened was deemed useless now that the issue arose again.

"i will sit on you, gojo," toji threatened again, eyes narrowed. "i will do it—"

"okay fatty!" sang satoru, speaking over toji's threats. "fatty, fatty, fatty, fatty—"

"— i'll sit on you —"

"— fatty, fatty, fatty —"

"satoru stop it, you're causing a scene!" megumi's mom ordered, voice harsh and authoritative.

he went as far as placing his hands over his ears to block everyone else out while he continued to sing the words 'fatty' repetitively. your mom stepped away from the scene, looking very much sheepish and uncomfortable.

toji glared at suguru, raising a pointer finger at him as satoru continued to sing. "you better tell him to stop it right now or i'll squash him like a bug!"

suguru's eyes widened, both shocked and angry. "the hell am i supposed to do about it?"

"oi!" interrupted uncle ogi, gripping satoru by the ear and twisting.

the singing had stopped, though the commotion hadn't.

"ow, ow, ow!" whined satoru, his head being pulled down to uncle ogi's height with each twist of his ear.

the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of passersby, and several of them at that. a lot of the lines were empty due to the late arrival of the family, however, for the strangers that had stayed behind for whatever reasons, each of them seemed very invested in the drama unfolding before you.

maki and mai had both stepped forward to calm the arguing, though it only proved useless when it started intensifying at their involvement. you and megumi approached tsumiki, still glancing at the rest of your chaotic family with critical expressions.

"i'll miss you guys," you said thoughtfully, and you meant it even if you didn't mention it much. you would never say that to one person alone, tsumiki's mere presence brought you the comfort needed to express your thoughts with a little more freedom.

"we'll miss you too," tsumiki quickly added, briefly glancing at megumi. "won't we?"

"no."

tsumiki smiled nonetheless. "he's lying."

you smiled. "i know. megumi's the biggest liar ever —"

"look who's talking," he scoffed sourly.

you and tsumiki both ignored him as though he hadn't said anything insulting at all.

"i don't think you'll be missing this though," she continued, amusement clear in her soft voice as she regarded the loud argument.

with toji threatening to kill satoru, satoru came up with a very unique rebuttal:

"see this?" he said loudly, lifting up his phone, the latest model. he turned it over so the back of his phone was presented to the angry man. he jammed a pointer finger at the flawed apple. "i'll turn you into that, yeah? i'll turn you into an apple —"

"why you little —"

to make matter's worse, a security guard had stalked over, smaller in height yet bulky enough to make up for it.

"hey! what's going on here?"

"oh — no — they're family," said your mom, finally walking back to the group to ease tensions.

satoru turned away with a scoff.

"i'm not related to that pumbaa look-alike," he'd snapped, jamming his sunglasses further up his nose.

toji stood up straighter. "yeah i'm not too crazy about being related to skinny santa over there either."

satoru's jaw dropped, his hand enclosed around the bottom of his hoodie. he lifted it up despite the protests from around him.

"you wish you had these abs —"

uncle ogi slapped the back of his head. "put it back down you damn harlot —"

tsumiki laughed behind her hands, only forcing megumi to somewhat scold her for her amusement.

"it's not funny," he said, frowning. "they're being dumb."

"yeah you're right, megumi," she agreed, too quickly. you caught the knowing look she sent you once he turned his head to look back at the scene. "they're being very dumb."

tsumiki didn't wait for megumi to catch on to her teasing, walking off towards maki and mai to observe the argument from a closer distance. her low pony tail swung itself left and right as she walked, her hair shining under the different lighting.

it didn't take long before the argument had ceased to exist: suguru examined the tickets thoroughly (after quite the argument with satoru to get them off of him to begin with) and even approached a person of higher knowledge to help everyone with finding the correct gate and so on. it only meant one thing for you: the time for you and half of the family to part ways had caught up to you all.

you hadn't expected your goodbye to be so rushed when megumi's mother called the two of you over and nearly broke all the bones in your body after wrapping her arms around you. you didn't get much time to breathe before you found yourself squeezed against satoru's side in a one-armed hug.

"aw, don't cry, y/n —"

you looked up at him, raising a brow. "i'm literally not even —"

"it's fine, i'll be back in a few weeks!"

you shoved him away. "just get away from me."

suguru seemed to be the only normal person, hugging you briefly before rubbing the top of your head affectionately.

his daughters didn't get the same treatment you gave him. instead, you urged them to come closer and gave your request in hushed tones.

"take as many ugly pictures of megumi as you can."

before they could question you, everyone was called over to cross the gate for the flight.

that was it, then, you realised, as the twins hurried over to follow their dad. you wouldn't be with everyone for the next three to four weeks. everything was going too fast — megumi's parents had already crossed the gate, along with tsumiki who was closely followed by suguru and his kids. uncle ogi, your mom, maki and mai had all stepped back to watch them leave.

though they'd be back after the four weeks, it only just hit you like a whiplash how different your summer would be. you spent most of your time with megumi, and if not with him, then with the rest of this family, coming up with crazy adventures that even yuji and nobara would tag along with. the friday night dinners that was a weekly routine for everyone would be abolished temporarily, because they were always held at satoru's place and he'd be gone on this vacation.

tsumiki wouldn't be able to help you with your homework (or rather, do it herself) when megumi would refuse to over the phone. you wouldn't be able to gossip with megumi's mom as often either, nor bother megumi's dad in your free time with satoru.

you could hardly turn around to find megumi before you stumbled back at how close he'd randomly appeared behind you.

"don't miss me too much," you said, to cover up how he practically scared your soul out of your body a second ago.

"don't blow up my phone," he shot back, a small jab at how even the distance between your homes was too far for you, resulting in the spamming of his phone with memes and random texts.

your shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"i'm going to miss you," you said at last, and if it wasn't going to be him, you'd break the ice yourself and cut to the chase.

megumi's lips parted as if to say something back. you didn't wait for his response, stepping forward and doing something you'd never actually done before:

you hugged him.

and it didn't feel forced. it certainly didn't feel awkward. megumi, despite his cold exterior, held this warmth around him that you felt touch your skin when your arms wrapped around his neck and you stood on the tips of your toes to be able to rest your chin on his shoulder. if you'd known this earlier, perhaps there would have been several hugs that would have happened sooner.

relishing in the feeling of his presence felt good just as much as it felt bittersweet. it wasn't as though you'd never see him again, you knew that he'd be back; it was the fact that since you met him several years ago, you unknowingly lost the ability to function without him.

it felt stupid to even think about. you were certain he didn't feel the same way — you didn't really care much if that was true.

your porcupine would probably grow another few inches over the weeks he'd be away from you, and you wouldn't be able to fuss and throw a tantrum about it in his presence.

megumi's hands had remained motionless for the next few seconds, seemingly confused about their position. you felt the gentle touch of his hands just above your waist and nearly laughed at his hesitation. you had half a mind to tease him about it, but felt that time (or lack thereof) was on his side.

"you better bring back lots of candy," you said, smiling into his shoulder. "the kind that we don't have here, okay?"

"you'll get a cavity," you heard him murmur.

you grinned.

"we'll get a cavity," you corrected, pulling away and staring up at him with wide eyes. "you'll be eating them with me, porcupine."

he raised a hand and flicked your forehead. you expected it. you let him do it (and that would be the first and last time you'd ever allow it to happen). when he muttered 'dumb mermaid' under his breath, you didn't step on his foot or pull his hair or even twist his ear. although the voice at the back of your head encouraged you to cause a scene, you thought that your family had already caused enough damage and drama. the security guard's face in the corner of the room told you exactly how exasperating that already was. there was no need to make his job even harder than it already was.

you stepped aside as a silent opening for megumi to finally leave. he made his way towards the gate, carrying his suitcase with him.

"megumi," you called out to him.

he looked over at you without hesitation, cheeks slightly pink. you couldn't blame him, the summer heat was almost unbearable.

you scratched the back of your neck.

"can you just hurry up and go? i'm getting this intrusive thought about going past the gate."

he scowled at you. he didn't know why he expected anything different.

"you can't."

"exactly," you said, as though it were the most clearest thing. "but i absolutely will —"

"m/n —" he said calmly, your mother immediately responding by wrapping her arms around your neck from behind you.

"go on, megumi," she told him.

he joined satoru, who had been waiting for him to finish his goodbye session with you, silent throughout it all. it was odd for his character, really. satoru was the loudest and most disruptive person you knew yet he never once intervened with your conversation with megumi. or maybe he was just distracted with the picture of that pretty woman on his phone, who knows?

"you were taking years," you heard satoru tell his godson. "i think my whites were starting to turn into greys —"

there was a pause as satoru peered down at megumi, his glasses easily sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head.

"hey," he began, with innocent curiosity, "why are you so red?"

"shut up i'm hot," megumi snapped back, awfully defensive.

satoru's brows furrowed. he was used to megumi's bites. he found it all too amusing, enough for him to force it out of him on purpose. he knew he was successful when megumi would resort to barking at the height of his anger... however, this time, he was barely trying to aggravate him. this came as a surprise.

but when satoru thought about it — really thought about it — he found it as satisfying as putting the two final pieces of a puzzle together, as amusing as the click of the charging wire being pushed into his phone, as fascinating as colour co-ordinated books on a library shelf.

and he found it funny as hell.

"oh," he said at first, getting used to the idea before it really hit him, like the soccer he'd accidentally kicked into the face several years ago of a special girl he knows. "OHHH —"

"shut up," growled megumi, glaring at satoru with a sideways glance, not fully staring up at him head on like he usually would because he was embarrassed.

megumi fushiguro was actually embarrassed! what beautiful thing had satoru done in his past life to witness such a thing?

"i see now —"

megumi wanted to snap satoru's neck. "i'll hurt you," he threatened sharply.

but satoru was in his own world, grinning like a maniac and showing off his pearly whites. "megumi has a cr—"

"kfc."

satoru nearly broke down right there and then. megumi thought it served him right, meddling in business that wasn't his. teasing him about something he'd never actually thought off.

it was safe to say that satoru had remained angry at him for the rest of the flight (he even developed an attitude towards suguru, who was left utterly confused with the random change in mood from his best friend).

megumi had never loved the silent treatment more that day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the family returned from their vacation on a friday but were so jet lagged, they spent all of that day and the next sleeping off with no contact. it was on a special sunday that everyone had gathered at megumi's house to reunite, share gifts and experiences, and become one again. even your dad had come back from his travelling spree and brought back a ton of stuff for the rest of the family to go through.

megumi had brought over the candy he'd promised, along with a lot of other stuff he discovered over the course of the four weeks he was gone for. currently, it was being held captive by toji who was refusing to give them to you until you 'behaved' — whatever the hell that meant.

so to take your mind off of that (you planned on retrieving them later anyway) mimiko and nanako had showed you all the pictures they'd taken of megumi as promised. going through them with tsumiki and his mom by the kitchen was the funniest thing. somehow, one of the twins had managed to draw a moustache on him while he was asleep. you had a feeling that the morning after wasn't very pleasant.

but after going through everything and having lots and lots of conversations about what everyone got up to over the summer, you'd grown antsy and restless over the things toji was keeping from you.

enough was enough.

"can i have my gifts now?" you said, eyeing the possessive hand he'd placed over your box of unknown things.

he regarded you with a look of annoyance.

"no," he answered coldly.

"why not?" you whined, desperate.

he was sporting a glass of alcohol. perhaps he was just drunk and taking whatever anger he'd gotten from his testosterone out on you.

"you changed your ways yet, kid?" he questioned vaguely.

you looked around, clueless and in shock. why was no one coming to your aid? couldn't they see how unjust and odd this was? what the hell was he even talking about?

"what does that even mean?" you said loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the family around you.

"you're not getting anything till you start fixing that attitude, brat," he decided, firm. "looks like you never will though, so you'll get it when pigs fly."

you tilted your head at him, mildly confused.

"but you just got off a plane two days ago."

every bit of chatter had died down, silence radiating around the large room. someone could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would simply echo tumultuously. even mimiko and nanako, who were both always engrossed in their phones, had glanced up to pay attention. you could only hear the sound of toji's loud breaths. when you met his gaze, you thought he looked like someone had pissed in his cereal.

there was a snort from somewhere behind you. if you had to guess, it was probably from satoru, though you wouldn't be too surprised if it actually turned out to be suguru or even mai.

stupefied, stunned, and shocked, toji lifted your gift, enclosed in messy wrapping paper, and threw it out of the window, all without ungluing his eyes from yours.

you didn't question the first action that came to your mind. running to the window to throw yourself after it, ignoring the yells of your family and the arms that had held you back once you'd made your jump — your father's, you'd noticed, when he laughed at your foolishness instead of scolding you.

everyone had turned to scolding toji instead:

"seriously, toji?" his wife said, expression grave. "did you have to go that far?"

"you know she'd go and dive after it," your mom added with a pressing look.

toji grimaced. "since when did you care about anything?"

"since my daughter nearly threw herself out of an open window with no protective gear on —"

and all the while, you lingered at the back of the room with your gift unwrapped, grimacing when satoru rubbed your head in praise for coming up with a response as 'sick as that' — his words, not yours.

the joke continued to exist, even after several months. toji never lived down the day that you had made him look a fool in front of several people. some things just never change.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: spam ty in the chat rn bitches

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[hualianff]

Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down. 

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL. 

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.” 

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain. 

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off. 

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple. 

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake. 

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together. 

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it. 

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first. 

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation. 

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation. 

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part. 

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him. 

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well. 

《III》

[killerandhealerqueen]

Headcanon: Yuelou accidentally gives Keying alcohol thinking its water and he has to sober her up before Yuzhi returns.

Oh god... (I did this with my grandfather's beer once so this headcanon is going to be based on experience (of course my grandfather never knew I tried some of his beer so that's a secret that's going with me to the grave))

It was an accident, Jiang Yuelou swears

He was just casually sipping some baiju after a long day of work and Chen Yuzhi hadn't come home yet, so Keying was staying over at his house while they waited for him

He remembered that he needed to get something from his study so he turned and headed off to get it while Keying was playing with Xiao Bai

She's a child, she's thirsty, and she doesn't want to bother Jiang Yuelou for a cup of water so she notices the glass of baiju that's on the table and quickly walks over to it, taking a couple of sips to quench her thirst before she makes a face and goes back to play with Xiao Bai

When Jiang Yuelou comes back out from his study, he notices that the baiju in his glass is significantly lower than when he left it, making him frown before he looked over at Keying

"A-Ying"

Keying looks over at him and he notices that her eyes are a bit glazed and she looks tired, causing him to quickly walk over and kneel before her

"A-Ying, did you drink what was in that glass?"

Keying nods and Jiang Yuelou takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his cool, before he sighs

"Keying, what was in that glass was an adult drink. You shouldn't have drank it"

Keying hangs her head

"Sorry gege...it's just that I was thirsty, and I didn't want to bother you"

Jiang Yuelou chuffs and shakes his head as he gently pats her hair

"Silly girl...you don't have to ask. You can have whatever you want here"

"Except for what's in that glass?"

"Except for what's in that glass"

Jiang Yuelou then scoops Keying into his arms and carries her into the guest bedroom, laying her down

"Feeling kind of sleepy, huh?"

Keying nods and even lets out a yawn, causing Jiang Yuelou to laugh before he pets her head

"Let's not tell your brother about this little incident, hmm?"

Keying giggles and holds out her pinky, Jiang Yuelou smiling as he laces his pinky with hers

Before he can let her sleep, however, he makes sure to get her to drink at least a glass or two of water, just so that she doesn't get super sick

If she uses the bathroom a lot, that's better for Jiang Yuelou because while he knows that she only had a few sips, he'd rather try and get the alcohol out of her system as quickly as possible

Keying does eventually fall asleep, and Jiang Yuelou refuses to leave her side, just in case something happens or if she gets sick

If Chen Yuzhi asks why she's asleep when he comes to pick her up, Jiang Yuelou will just lie and say she was tired after school. He won't tell Chen Yuzhi what happened...he'll take the secret with him to the grave

[ibijau]

more of baby nhs getting sent to Gusu very early

warning for mentions of child abuse still

It’s not a very big room, especially when Huaisang is going to share it with someone else. It’s also very sparsely decorated compared to the one he has in the Unclean Realm, but he’s starting to realise that things are just like that in the Cloud Recesses.

“Please sit,” Lan Xichen says for the third or fourth time.

And for as many times, Huaisang stays standing, looking around awkwardly. He doesn’t like it here. This whole place is too quiet, and this room is too empty, and the bed looks too hard. Huaisang doesn’t like it. He misses his da-ge, and he misses a-die too, even after what happened. He is wary of the two boys with him, Lan Xichen who smiles too much, Lan Wangji who doesn’t smile at all.

“It’s really fine for you to take my bed,” Lan Xichen insists. “It’ll be more comfortable than whatever they bring in later, and you’ll need to be comfortable. This must be so inconvenient.”

Even though it’s useless, Huaisang instinctively tries to cover his wounded arm with his other hand.

At home he has stayed fairly isolated after that incident, so he hasn’t had to bear with anyone looking at his arm except Zonghui and da-ge, who he both trust implicitly. They know the truth about what happened, and even if they didn’t, they wouldn’t think ill of him for getting hurt. But the Lan brothers don’t know. 

Huaisang was dropped with them by Lan Qiren who just said that Huaisang will stay in Lan Xichen’s room until his arm is healed, and then left to make necessary arrangements. Lan zongzhu, whom Huaisang likes far better than Lan Qiren because he is much more gentle, went his own way as soon as they entered the Cloud Recesses. So Huaisang is alone with strangers who probably think he is weak for getting hurt like that. They must think he fell and wasn’t even skilled enough in martial arts to know how to land without hurting himself. They must think he got into a fight with someone too strong for him and didn’t know when to quit.

As long as they don’t guess the truth, it doesn’t really matter what they think, Huaisang knows. Still, he has his pride too, and he doesn’t like that this is the first impression he’s making.

Lan Xichen, seeing all his efforts to be nice fail, sighs deeply and turns to his brother.

“Wangji, can you go see if tea might be brought? And something to eat as well. Nie gongzi has travelled from very far, I’m sure he’d be happy to eat something.”

Lan Wangji frowns, so slightly that Huaisang wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t watching these two so carefully. In answer to that frown, Lan Xichen only smiles until his brother gives in and leaves the room. Huaisang watches him go, fascinated by the way those Lan people walk. It’s almost like they’re floating, nothing at all like the way people at home go about their business.

“Nie gongzi, let’s sit together,” Lan Xichen offers, coming closer and pushing Huaisang toward the bed.

Since it’s impossible to refuse anymore, Huaisang obeys. The bed, just as he feared, is very hard. At home, he has pillows and many blankets, because a-die spoils him.

Spoiled him.

Not anymore, not even if he bought that pretty fan.

Sitting on the bed, fidgeting with his sling, Huaisang looks down at his feet. He tenses when Lan Xichen sits next to him, and refuses to look at him. He smiles too much, Huaisang isn’t used to that and he’s not sure he likes it.

“This must be really hard for you to leave home like this,” Lan Xichen says. “I know I would be scared if I had to.”

Huaisang shrugs. He should be scared, sure. Mostly, he feels uneasy. He doesn’t like it here. But he wasn’t really liking it back home either, not anymore. He can’t say that, but he’s glad that he’s far away from a-die. If only da-ge were here too, safe too, then Huaisang wouldn’t mind so much.

“Since we’ll be sharing a room until you’re better, I think we should try to be friends,” Lan Xichen says. “It’ll be nicer like this, won’t it? Maybe you can tell me about your home. I’ve heard a lot about Qinghe, but I’ve never been there. Is it very nice?”

Huaisang energetically nods. Of course it’s nice. It’s his home, so it’s the best place in the world, with the best food in the world, and his sect is the greatest. It’s obvious.

It's why the Wens don't like them, he's heard some disciples say. Qinghe Nie is just too great, and Wen Ruohan can only wish he had a son as skilled as Nie Mingjue.

“I hope you’ll like it here too,” Lan Xichen remarks. He pauses, and laughs softly. “To be honest, most of the guest disciples don’t really like the Cloud Recesses, so maybe you won’t either. People say it’s too quiet, and there are too many rules… but I find other places are too noisy. Quiet places are nice too. Oh, and do you like music?”

“Hm.”

“That’s good then, because we use music to cultivate here. Do you play any instruments?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Too bad. Maybe you can learn, when your arm is better,” Lan Xichen offers. “A man of good birth should play the guqin at least. Do you know the other four arts?”

“I play Go with my da-ge,” Huaisang mumbles. “I’m not very good.”

“You’re still young, it will come. Wangji isn’t very good either, but don’t tell him I said that. Sometimes I let him win, just so he doesn’t get discouraged.”

Huaisang can’t help a small smile. He suspects that his da-ge does the same, to encourage him. And so even though Lan Xichen really smiles too much, Huaisang starts thinking he might not dislike him after all.

“We can play together too,” Lan Xichen suggests. “It is always nice to play with someone new.”

“Will you let me win?” Huaisang asks, looking up at Lan Xichen’s face for the first time since they sat together.

Lan Xichen blinks a few times at the impertinent question. Huaisang almost fears getting in trouble for this, even though he should know better than to misbehave, especially toward someone who has even less reasons than a-die to put up with him. He braces himself for a scolding.

Instead Lan Xichen turns away and tries to hide laughter behind his sleeve.

“Nie gongzi, shouldn’t you try to win with your own skill first?” he teases when his laugh calms down. “Letting you win… we’ll see. I don’t think I will, not at first. I want to see if you can beat me on your own first. Isn’t that more fun?”

As long as he wins, Huaisang doesn't really care how. Winning just because someone is sad for him and lets him… that's still winning. He knows he can't say that out loud though. If Lan Xichen is like other people Huaisang knows, he'll say hard work is the only way to get anything, and he must strive to improve… And Huaisang is too tired and depressed to put up with a lecture right now.

“Then I will try hard to be worthy of a game with Lan gongzi,” he sighs. “Please be merciful if I do badly.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. If not, I will try to help you improve.”

Huaisang knows he should smile and give thanks and be nice. Lan Xichen doesn’t have to be this kind to him, so Huaisang should be grateful, but now it’s all starting to catch up with him. He’s in this place, he’s without his da-ge for the first time in his life, he’s going to be like that for a long time maybe, and it’s scary. 

He misses da-ge so much.

Da-ge too promised to help him play better, and sometimes Huaisang did win all on his own, thanks to da-ge's advice.

Huaisang doesn’t want to be here in this new place, with new people. He wants to be home, with his brother. He wants to go find Lan zongzhu and beg him to take him back. He’ll be quiet, he’ll be good, he’ll never bother his father again. He’ll do anything, if he can just go home.

Huaisang half feels like crying.

He keeps it in though, because he can’t embarrass himself like that in front of strangers. He’s a Nie, he should only cry with people he can trust. Right now, that means only with his da-ge, who is too far away, alone with their suddenly unpredictable father.

Huaisang really, badly wants to cry.

Thankfully, Lan Wangji returns at that moment, carrying a tray with tea and some cakes. If it was impossible to cry in front of Lan Xichen, then it is even more so in front of Lan Wangji who gives off the air of never having shed a tear in his life. So Huaisang puts on a neutral face, hops down from the bed, and goes to sit at the table where Lan Wangji put the tray.

Carefully, as if he were serving some great and important person, Lan Wangji pours tea, first for Huaisang, then for his brother and for himself. His gestures are slow and elegant in a way that Huaisang can only envy. Suddenly, it makes sense, the way disciples at home speak of Gusu Lan. If someone the same age as Huaisang can be so refined, then the adults have to be even more so.

It would be nice, to be elegant like Lan Wangji.

“Lan gongzi…”

“It’s just us here,” Lan Xichen remarks, passing him his cup of tea and a share of cake. “You don’t have to be so very formal in private. Right, Wangji?”

Lan Wangji throws his brother an unimpressed look, pinching his lips somewhat. Huaisang feels a little awkward for a moment, wondering if this is an argument that those two brothers had had before. Lan Wangji seems like the sort of person who really is too formal at all times. Didn’t he call his brother xiongzhang earlier?

“You can call me by my courtesy name,” Lan Xichen insists. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Huaisang hesitates, and shakes his head.

“Lan gongzi is older, it wouldn’t be proper to address him so casually,” he mumbles. “Already Lan gongzi is going to be troubled so much because of me, I can’t be disrespectful as well.”

This seems to sadden Lan Xichen a little, but he doesn’t push any further.

"Then call him gege," Lan Wangji encourages in a monotone voice. “From you, it’s fine.”

Huaisang could swear there's a slight smile to his eyes. Intrigued by that, he doesn't notice Lan Xichen rolling his eyes and looking mildly annoyed. 

"Can I really, Xichen-ge ?" Huaisang asks.

Lan Xichen, who had opened his mouth to say something to his brother, closes it and stares at Huaisang with a somewhat funny expression. For a moment Huaisang worries that he was tricked into saying something he shouldn't have, and that he'll get in trouble already. Quickly enough, Lan Xichen breaks into a radiant smile. 

"Yes, you can. It would be very welcome, in fact,” he says, glancing at his brother and wrinkling his nose. “Oh, but drink your tea, Huaisang. You look so tired, it will make you feel better.”

It is a little awkward to pick up the cup with only one hand, but Huaisang manages without making a mess for once.

The tea is very good, a different blend from what Huaisang is used to drinking at home. It has a touch of bitterness to it, but it’s still very pleasant and refreshing. It goes very well with the cakes that Lan Wangji brought, which have a subtle flavour. Huaisang does feel a little better after.

Maybe it won’t be so bad here.

[neverdoingmuch]

He doesn't know how long he stays sitting there on the forest floor but by the time Wei Wuxian hears the crunch of a twig beneath someone's foot, he's shivering. Glancing up, he sees familiar purple robes. Swiping at his eyes and trying to settle his face into something neutral and calm, Wei Wuxian stands up. He stumbles a bit, and has to shake out a cramp in his leg.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian calls out and starts heading over to his shidi.

Jiang Cheng looks over at him, and as he does, Wei Wuxian sees Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan following behind him. Relief floods Wei Wuxian – it would have been so much harder if he'd been forced to go back to Yiling to collect the rest of their shitty little group. The relief quickly disappears when fury crosses Jiang Cheng's face and he storms angrily over to Wei Wuxian. Jin Zixuan and Lan Zhan wisely hang back but Wei Wuxian doesn't have that choice.

“Look, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian tries to placate, “I swear I would never do anything to –”

He's cut off by a swift punch to the jaw. The force of it knocks Wei Wuxian onto his back and he spends a few moments blinking up at the sky. Well, what he can see of it. Jiang Cheng doesn't usually punch that hard, but it makes sense that he wouldn't be holding back right now. Not after what Wei Wuxian does.

“Get up,” Jiang Cheng spits at him. Wei Wuxian is slow to react and Jiang Cheng kicks him in the side. “Get up.”

Wei Wuxian awkwardly sits back up and staggers to his feet. Jiang Cheng glares at him, his lips tightly pursed and his cheeks flushed. His fists are clenched tightly by his side and he takes a step towards Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian fights the urge to back away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng demands.

Wei Wuxian swallows heavily, then gives into his urges. He takes two quick steps backwards before sinking to his knees. The dirt is dry beneath him and full of small stones that dig into his knees,  but Wei Wuxian ignores the ache beginning to form as he leans forward. He places his hands on the ground and then kowtows, pressing his forehead firmly into the ground.

“This humble servant subjects himself to the judgement of Jiang Wanyin, sect heir to Yunmeng Jiang,” Wei Wuxian says.

He hadn't been speaking particularly loudly, but the silence that descends upon them rings with the echo of his words. Wei Wuxian doesn't dare move, growing tenser with each passing movement. Any punishment delivered would be less than what he is owed – no punishment could ever fully measure up to the crime of killing Jiang Yanli. But Jiang Cheng will get as close to it as possible, and Wei Wuxian will accept anything Jiang Cheng does to him.

Jiang Cheng starts to laugh, a bitter sound that grates against Wei Wuxian's ears.

“A humble servant?” he asks, and Wei Wuxian fights the urge to bristle against the unspoken insult; he may not seem to be particularly humble but he's never once forgotten who he is and what he owes.

Tensing as Jiang Cheng slowly walks over to him, Wei Wuxian does his best to stay still, refusing to move so much as an inch. Jiang Cheng comes to a stop so close to Wei Wuxian that when he flicks his eyes away from the ground he can see his boots right before him.

“Get up,” Jiang Cheng says, echoing his words from before. Before, anger had coloured every syllable that spilt from his lips, but now there's just an eerie calmness.

Wei Wuxian hesitates, not sure what Jiang Cheng's play is. Jiang Cheng has never been one to shy away from his anger, embracing it wholeheartedly as he does with every emotion he feels. It's such an important part of the person that Jiang Cheng is that his sudden lack of anger sends alarm bells ringing in Wei Wuxian's head.

“Get up … gege.”

Wei Wuxian flinches before he can stop himself. Jiang Cheng has never called him his brother before, and it hurts more than he ever thought it would to hear him calling him gege now of all times.

He looks up at Jiang Cheng and very carefully says, “My parents are Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, Sect Heir Jiang. Do not take that away from me.”

Jiang Cheng smiles, a sharp thing that does nothing to abate Wei Wuxian's worries. “Is that so? I thought you were my brother? I mean, everyone knows you're just my father's bastard son. So why shouldn't I call you my brother?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian pleas quietly. “They're just rumours.”

“Are they now?” Jiang Cheng asks pointedly. “If they're just rumours then why would I believe them?”

Any words to defend his parentage die before he has the chance to voice them. Wei Wuxian just watches Jiang Cheng warily – he still doesn't understand what exactly Jiang Cheng is doing, what exactly he's getting at.

At his continued silence Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes then squats down and reaches out to grasp Wei Wuxian's hands where they're still placed limply by his sides. He lifts them up, entwining their fingers together as he starts to pull Wei Wuxian to his feet.

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng says, making sure to stare Wei Wuxian straight in the eye as he continues, “I know you better than I know anyone else, and I know that you'd never hurt A-jie. Not now, not ever. I've never believed the rumours before, so why would I believe them now?”

i’ve been looking forward to doing the whole jyl dies and wwx kills her confrontation in the time travel au for ages now and i’ve finally done it!!