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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 1 year ago

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HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+

♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)

♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.

no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth

♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”

You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.

“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”

Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.

“Don’t make excuses for him,”

“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.

(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred)

There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.

Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.

“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”

You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”

He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”

Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.

“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.

Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.

His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.

don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely?

Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.

(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.

The reply is instant.

don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.

(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.

don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome...

don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day.

Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.

(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??

don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?

He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.

(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel.

don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy

(sent 7:03) please don’t.

don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love

Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.

(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”

dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT]

Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.

He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform.

You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek.

He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.

“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”

He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.

“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh.

“Morning.”

You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.

“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”

He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?”

Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.

“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?”

You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”

“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.

“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”

“Stop being so nice to him.”

You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.

You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.

“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”

A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.

“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”

“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”

He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead.

“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.

“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”

Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.”

“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.

“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”

He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”

“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”

Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.

He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far.

Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.

It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye. He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.

“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”

Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”

Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.

Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now.

You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low.

It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.

You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.

Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.

The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.

Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.

Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.

He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.

“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.

“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”

“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”

Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”

“And how long will you be staying?”

“About five days?”

His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.

“I still wanna go sightseeing.”

He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.

“Whatever,”

The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.

She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.

“Let’s go to the little store place!”

“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.

“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.”

It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.

It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.

At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.

“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.

“Fuck off.”

Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.

“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”

“Please shut up.”

Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.

You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.

Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.

He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.

The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.

There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.

Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.

You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.

The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.

After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.

“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”

Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”

You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.

“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”

He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”

The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.

“Yeah. Go shower, already.”

“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”

The room is unnaturally dim.

There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.

Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.

Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.

He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.

After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop.

“All done with your work?”

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”

“What were you actually doing?”

“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”

“Did you find anything?”

You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”

“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.

“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”

“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”

You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”

Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”

“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“

His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”

He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”

You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it.

“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”

Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.

You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.

He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.

You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.

“Thank you,”

He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.

He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.

The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.

Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.

“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.

“Night.”

He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.

You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.

Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.

You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood.

You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.

Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.

After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.

The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.

So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.

Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.

You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.

Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.

A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.

Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.

“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”

“What are you thinking?”

You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”

Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.

“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.”

“Don’t worry so much.”

“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.

“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.”

You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.

You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.

Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.

“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.

“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”

You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”

He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”

The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.

“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”

Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.

It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.

He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.

Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.

On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof

It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly.

After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.

At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.

“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.

The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.

All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.

It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.

His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.

He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.

“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”

Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”

“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”

“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.

“Exactly,”

“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”

Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around.

He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.

You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.

After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.

Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.

There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.

Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.

“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“

Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole.

He falls for a long time. It seems endless.

His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.

The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.

He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.

“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”

After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.

“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”

Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”

“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.”

Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.

“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”

Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.

“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”

“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”

You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.

“What are you after?”

“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”

“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him

“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’

“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”

Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.

“How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”

It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.

Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this.

He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”

“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.”

“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”

He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue.

He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream. Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”

He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.

“Please,”

A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.

“Megumi-kun,”

It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces him onto you like a lifeline.

He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.

You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.

“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”

At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.

He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.

Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain.

But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.

You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want.

You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.

Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.

Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.

“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.

He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”

He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.

The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.

He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.

But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.

You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.

It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.

The relief is burdensome almost.

“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to…haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”

Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”

He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”

Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.

“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”

“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”

You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.

“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”

“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.

Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.

You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.

“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.

He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”

You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug. The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.

“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”

The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.

Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.

The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.

A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.

Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it.

It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.

Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head.

He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.

Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.

There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.

Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you.

“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”

The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.

He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.

“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”

You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.

He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.

You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.

“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”

It goes on like that for what feels like forever.

He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.

But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.

Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”

He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”

“Why do you think that?”

He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”

Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”

Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.

“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”

His throat suddenly feels so dry.

“What was…what did you see?” He asks.

“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”

He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right.

Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…

“Megumi-kun,”

He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”

A bated breath follows a sweet smile.

“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”

His reply is reflexive.

“No you don’t,”

You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”

“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.

“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”

He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.

He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.

He won’t curse you after death, that way.

He can’t find his voice.

“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”

When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”

“You too. Don’t cry,”

“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.

“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”

He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.

He feels boneless, throat tight.

“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.”

So embarrassing. “Yeah…”

“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”

The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.

“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”

“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.”

“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”

He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”

“You can’t run away, okay?”

“I won’t,”

“Even though I want to monopolize you?”

He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”

You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.”

“Me too,”

He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you.

The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.

“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”

“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?”

You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”

Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”

“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”

Megumi grimaces.

“No. Why are you even here?”

Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.

He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him.

He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face.

He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“How long have we been out?”

“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”

He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”

“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him. “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.”

Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”

“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”

Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.

Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…”

“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”

“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”

Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”

He puts a hand on his shoulder as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.

“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”

Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.

“I love you,”

“What are you saying?”

You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”

He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”

You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”

Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.

PROLOGUE:

[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm]

Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.

He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.

He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.

He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.

But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.

He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.

Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.

“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”

Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.

“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”

He stares at you. You smile knowingly.

“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?”

He nods.

“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”

You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.

“What are you doing?”

You smile again.

“Messing with you,”

He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.

“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”

“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”

“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”

Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.

“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”

“…Do you want me to get along with you?”

You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.

“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”

“Why.”

“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”

“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.

“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”

“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.

“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”

“Huh?”

You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”

Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.

“Why are you a sorcerer then?”

Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.

You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.

“You’re an idiot.”

Your grin goes even wider.

“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?”

“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”

#fics for gaza #writing tag #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #dubcon cw

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shelovesosa · 14 days ago

Text

BEST PARENT WARS

art credits to jj59u on X

Pairing : singledad!Satoru x singlemom!reader

Contains : FLUFF, pretend megumi is gojos Biological kid…, domestic vides, Nanami cameo, dilf gojo , chaotic, idiots in love, he want that cookie BAD, slight enemies to lovers

Summary!! A petty rivalry ignites when Nobara complains about Megumi’s perfect lunches — made by his smug, sunglasses-wearing dad, Satoru. You fire back with your own over-the-top lunchbox masterpiece, launching a full-blown schoolyard cold war of snacks, supplies, and sarcastic notes. The kids are over it. The teachers are watching. And neither of you will admit you’re starting to enjoy the battle a little too much.

Part 2 >>>

The morning began with the hollow clink of a spoon in a mug, the scrape of chair legs across the linoleum floor, and a faint yawn echoing down the narrow hallway of your small but lived-in apartment.

Sunlight filtered through the mismatched curtains of the kitchen window, striping the breakfast table in honeyed gold and dusty shadows. A faint breeze passed through the open balcony door, carrying the smell of early spring—wet sidewalks, soft pollen, and the hint of cherry blossoms that hadn’t yet bloomed.

You stood barefoot at the stove, dressed in an oversized T-shirt and leggings, trying to stay awake as the eggs sizzled in the pan. The electric kettle behind you clicked off, steam rising in a slow coil. A familiar pair of feet padded into the room behind you.

“Morning, lovebug.”

A mop of dark brown hair peeked around the corner. Nobara’s eyes were barely open, her pink pajamas rumpled and sliding off one shoulder.

She rubbed her eyes and mumbled something into the sleeve of her shirt.

You turned the heat down and set her plate at the table. “Food’s ready. Toast’s got the jam you like—the one with the berries and the tiny seeds.”

Still half-asleep, she clambered into her seat and stared at the plate like it offended her.

Then, slowly, her shoulders slumped.

You noticed it right away. She didn’t swing her legs like usual. Didn’t hum or complain about the egg’s edges being too brown. Just sat there, silent, picking at her toast.

You took a seat across from her, concern rising.

“What’s up, baby?”

She didn’t answer right away. Chewed slowly. Swallowed. Then, with a sudden surge of quiet frustration, she dropped her toast and crossed her arms.

“There’s this boy in my class,” she muttered, almost like she regretted bringing it up.

You tilted your head, already bracing yourself. “Go on…”

“His name’s Megumi. He’s weird. He always has his bangs in his face like a video game character.”

You covered your mouth to hide a smile. “Okay…”

“And yesterday,” she said, sitting up straighter now, voice rising with offense, “he brought this ridiculous lunch. Like, full-on restaurant style. There were little flags in his rice, and his food was cut into tiny shapes. He had an actual bento box with layers. Layers, Mom!”

You blinked. “Wow.”

“That’s not the worst part.”

You waited.

“He had strawberries. But not like the ones from the store. They were… they were fancy. Like peeled or cut or something? No green. Just soft and perfect and shiny. And everyone in class lost their minds. Even the teacher said it was adorable.”

You laughed softly. “That sounds kind of cute.”

Nobara’s lips twisted in fury. “It was a power move.”

“A power move?”

“Yes. Because after that, all the girls were like, ‘Ohhh Megumi, you’re so lucky!’ and they were sharing with him and trading bites and asking to sit near him. And I was just sitting there with my regular sandwich and a juice box like a total nobody.”

You frowned, your heart twinging. “Sweetheart, you are never a nobody.”

She glared at her plate. “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t even eat half of it. I was too mad. I just drank my juice and stared at the window like I was in one of those sad dramas you like.”

You blinked. “Okay, I feel personally attacked.”

She cracked the faintest smile, then went back to sulking.

You leaned across the table and gently pushed her hair out of her face. “You know what I think?”

Nobara didn’t look up.

“I think if some boy is going to show off like that, then we should show off even harder.”

Now she looked at you. “What?”

“I’m saying tomorrow… you’re walking into that classroom with a lunch so good the whole school talks about it.”

Her eyes widened, cautious. “Really?”

You nodded. “Rice flowers. Maybe heart-shaped egg rolls. Dessert. Sauce containers. The works.”

She leaned forward. “Can we do those baby sausages with the octopus legs?”

“I don’t know how to do those.”

“Please?”

You smiled. “Okay. For you? Anything.”

She beamed so brightly you could practically feel the pride returning to her little shoulders.

You leaned back. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“No fighting in the cafeteria.”

Nobara shrugged. “No promises if he brings peeled mango.”

You spent the rest of your day like any other — a balancing act between deadlines and errands, bills and groceries, switching from work mode to parent mode in five-second intervals.

But that night, once Nobara was asleep, curled under her fluffy pink blanket with a stuffed rabbit under her arm, you stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared down your enemy: the rice cooker.

“You’re going to work for me tonight,” you muttered, pressing the lid with authority.

It hissed to life.

You chopped vegetables with a dedication you hadn’t felt in weeks. Molded rice into neat shapes using a set of cheap plastic cutters from a forgotten drawer. You arranged the food like a tiny puzzle: carrots curled into spirals, broccoli tucked into a corner, baby tomatoes skewered with little picks shaped like animals.

You even made a tiny egg roll with cheese inside.

When it was done, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand and smiled down at your masterpiece.

Then you drew a quick doodle on a sticky note — a bunny in sunglasses, giving a thumbs-up — and wrote:

“You’ve got this. Show them who’s boss. <3”

You stuck it under the lid.

A proud warmth bloomed in your chest. Take that, Megumi, you thought, turning off the kitchen light.

The next morning started with nervous energy.

Not Nobara’s — yours. Your hands were sticky with leftover rice and your bangs clung to your forehead as you triple-checked the lunchbox. You’d woken up a little earlier than usual — okay, a lot earlier — and skipped your usual five-minute scroll in bed to boil the eggs and heat the mini sausages again.

You’d even wiped down the bento box with a microfiber cloth like it was going to be inspected under a microscope.

Nobara, for her part, was calm. Too calm. She sat at the table in her school uniform, sipping her milk with quiet confidence. Legs swinging. Hair brushed and tied into her usual side ponytail with the bow she picked last night. A smug grin on her face.

“You think he’s going to be jealous?” she asked.

You slid the bento box into her backpack with dramatic flair. “Jealous? He’s going to cry.”

“Good.” She drained the rest of her milk like a villain toasting their evil plan.

You chuckled and handed her the lunch bag. “Just… be gracious about it, okay? We don’t need a bento-themed civil war in your classroom.”

“I’ll try,” she said innocently. “But if someone cries, that’s their problem.”

You pinched her cheek. “Who raised you?”

“You.”

“…Fair.”

Outside, the weather had warmed just enough to trick you into forgetting it was still March. The street buzzed with life — the hum of school vans, barking dogs behind low fences, the whir of a scooter passing too fast.

You held Nobara’s hand as you approached the school gates, slipping into the stream of other parents and kids. There was the usual chatter, backpacks bouncing, jackets slipping off shoulders. The cherry blossom trees lining the school yard were just beginning to bloom — delicate pink petals clinging like secrets to every branch.

Then you heard it.

“Megumi, wait up! You forgot your scarf!”

A loud voice rang out across the courtyard like someone had plugged a mic into the morning.

You turned instinctively toward the sound. There he was. Tall. Carelessly stylish. Sunglasses on his face like he was walking a red carpet instead of a sidewalk.

The man behind the pudding smiley face.

He was holding a striped scarf in one hand and a bright yellow lunch bag in the other. You watched as he crouched down beside a dark-haired boy — Megumi, presumably — and wrapped the scarf gently around his neck, fussing over the knot like it mattered.

Megumi stood there like a statue, arms crossed, letting it happen with the expression of someone who had accepted his fate long ago.

You stayed where you were, watching in silence as Satoru adjusted the kid’s collar and then, with zero shame, ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“Be good,” he said.

Megumi mumbled something. Probably “stop it” or “you’re embarrassing me,” though the words were lost in the wind.

You felt Nobara tug your hand. “There he is,” she whispered like you were scouting an enemy encampment. “That’s the bento boy.”

Your gaze flicked between the two of them. Satoru spotted you before you could look away. He grinned. And then he waved. A big, full-arm wave, like he was greeting a long-lost friend.

You blinked. Your eyebrows raised on instinct. You gave him a polite little nod. He started walking toward you.

“Uh-oh,” Nobara said under her breath.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Uh-oh.”

“Hey!” he said, cheerful like caffeine in human form. “You’re Nobara’s mom, right?”

You nodded slowly. “That’s me.”

“Satoru Gojo,” he said, offering a hand like this was a networking event. “Resident lunchbox tyrant.”

You laughed in surprise and shook it. His hand was warm, his grip light. “So you admit it?”

“Oh, completely. Megumi hates the attention. I live for it.”

You looked past him to where Megumi stood with his class, stoic and still. “Seems like he’s handling it well.”

“He’s a tough kid,” Satoru said. “Raised by the best.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “I saw the bento.”

“And I saw yours.” His smile widened. “Smiley face on the rice. Bold move.”

“Carrot stars,” you said. “Respect.”

“I didn’t know we were playing a game,” he said, eyes glittering with amusement.

“Well,” you said, smirking, “you started it.”

“True,” he nodded. “But I think you escalated it.”

“You brought pudding for the whole class!”

He gasped. “You saw that?”

“It was in the group chat.”

Satoru laughed so loudly that a few parents glanced over. “You’re right. It was a bit much.”

“Are we… doing this again today?” you asked, curious.

“Only if you are.”

You looked at him — at the tousled white hair, the half-zipped hoodie, the ridiculous sunglasses, and the way he smiled at you without a hint of self-consciousness. Then you grinned back.

“Round two,” you said. “Bring it.”

By lunchtime, the group chat was exploding. A mother uploaded a new photo of the bento display in the classroom — this time featuring not one, but two spectacular lunches.

Yours had made a splash. Heart-shaped onigiri, grilled vegetables shaped into flower petals, the rabbit napkin Nobara insisted on, and a tiny handwritten note folded into origami.

You felt proud. Giddy, even. Until you saw his.

Satoru’s creation was a monstrosity of love and chaos: a three-tiered bento box with tiny rice animals wearing nori bowties. There was a cartoon version of Megumi's face made out of seaweed and cheese. There were hand-cut apple rabbits. A slice of cheesecake with gold sprinkles.

He even included a tiny menu card. You stared at the screen in silence.

Then typed:

“This is getting out of hand.”

Satoru replied within seconds:

“Don’t hate the player, hate the lunch.”

You stared at your phone and let out a laugh so loud it startled your coworker across the room.

That evening, when Nobara burst through the front door, she was glowing.

“MOM,” she shouted, dropping her backpack like it owed her money. “They LOST THEIR MINDS.”

“Yeah?”

“Everyone said my lunch was better than yesterday. And that little origami note? That’s going in my pencil case.”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Mission accomplished.”

“But…” she added, serious now. “Megumi brought dessert again. He said his dad likes to experiment with toppings.”

You blinked. “Did he now?”

“So,” she said, eyes gleaming. “What’s for tomorrow?”

You stared at her. At her spark. At this ridiculous little game you and another parent had started without meaning to — and how now it had become something that made your kid feel seen. Confident. You grinned.

“We make cookies tonight.”

The kitchen smelled like sugar and war. You were bent over the baking tray, carefully spacing out spoonfuls of dough as Nobara hovered next to you, holding a bowl of M&M’s like it was rare treasure.

“Do we add the candies before or after baking?” she asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Before. Just press them in lightly so they don’t melt into weird blobs.”

“Like that time you made chocolate chip lava?”

“Okay, first of all, that was an accident,” you said, pressing an M&M into the soft dough. “And second, you still ate three.”

“I was being polite.”

You looked at her flatly.

She grinned. “And hungry.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugged at your lips anyway. It had been years since you’d baked like this — not just for sustenance, but for fun. For your daughter. For her pride. For something petty and strangely sweet that had grown between you and Satoru without either of you saying it out loud.

He was… charming, in that ridiculous way. Confident. Cocky. Endearingly extra.

And if you were honest with yourself — and that wasn’t always your strong suit — you’d started looking forward to his texts more than you wanted to admit.

Not that you liked him. Not like that. Probably.

You pushed that thought aside and slid the tray into the oven.

“Alright,” you announced. “Operation Cookie Overkill has begun.”

The next morning, Nobara practically skipped to school.

She held the clear box of individually wrapped cookies like a trophy. You’d let her decorate the labels — bright marker hearts and gold star stickers that looked like they were made by a seven-year-old with a grudge.

“Remember,” you said as she waved goodbye. “Share.”

“I’ll generously distribute,” she said, puffing her chest. “Like a queen.”

You watched her run toward the gate, weaving through backpacks and familiar faces.

Then, from across the lot, you saw Satoru again.

This time, he wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Just a gray hoodie and jeans. His hair was as chaotic as usual, but there was something different in how he stood — a little straighter. Less performative. He looked… handsome.

And unfortunately, he caught you staring. He smiled. No wave this time. Just a small nod. You gave one back and quickly busied yourself with your phone.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the flicker in your chest.

By noon, the cookie war had become a school-wide event.

You were at work, halfway through a salad, when your phone buzzed.

📸 Photo from PTA Chat Caption: “Nobara brought cookies for the whole class today! Adorable! And delicious! ❤️🍪”

You smiled. Scrolled.

Another parent chimed in:

“Satoru’s cinnamon rolls yesterday were amazing, but these cookies?? We’re getting spoiled!”

And then…

“Someone get these two a bakery already.”

You blinked. Re-read that one twice.

Before you could type anything back, your phone buzzed again — a private message this time.

From… Satoru.

Satoru: Okay. You win today. The cookie with the little smiley face in chocolate chips? Ruthless. I’m down. But I’m not out.

You stared at the screen, warmth creeping up your neck. You typed, then backspaced. Typed again.

You: I accept your surrender. But I expect retaliation.

Satoru: You will regret that.

You stared at your phone. Grinning like a fool.

That evening, just as you were unpacking Nobara’s bag, there was a knock at the door.

You opened it, only mildly surprised to see Kento Nanami standing on your porch. Crisp shirt. Jacket. Tie. Always dressed like he’d just stepped out of a finance meeting. Even after all these years.

“Kento,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He offered a small, polite smile. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

You stepped aside. “No, come in. She just finished dinner.”

He nodded and stepped inside. You could feel the shift in the air immediately. A little heavier. Familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

Nobara lit up the moment she saw him.

“Daddy!”

He crouched as she ran into his arms. “Hey, sweetheart.”

They hugged tightly. Her hair spilled over his shoulder. And for a moment — just a moment — you could see the family you once were, like a photo you hadn’t meant to keep in a drawer.

Kento stood, brushing her bangs aside. “How was school?”

She lit up. “Mom made cookies! I passed them out and everyone went wild. Even the teacher said we should open a bakery.”

Kento smiled. “Did they now?”

“Megumi said we were being dramatic, but I think he liked them too. He ate two.”

You froze slightly at the name. You hadn’t mentioned Satoru to Kento. Hadn’t meant to.

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t ask.

Instead, he turned to you. “She’s doing well.”

You nodded. “She’s… thriving, actually. Which is new.”

He paused.

“I’m glad.”

You both stood in that silence, not quite awkward — just old. Worn. Familiar.

Then he asked, “Do you want me to take her next weekend?”

Your mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Sure. Yeah. She’d like that.”

“She misses the cat.”

“She told me.”

You both chuckled softly.

He looked at you for a long moment before saying, “I’m glad she has you.”

And even though it was quiet, and simple, and deeply Nanami — it made your stomach twist a little.

He still cared. You knew that.

But love, in the way you both needed, had slipped through the cracks long ago.

Satoru walked into the classroom on Thursday morning carrying a giant box of craft supplies, his sunglasses pushed into his hair, and a confident little bounce in his step.

“You volunteered for class decorations?” the teacher asked, bewildered.

“Art is passion,” he replied smoothly, laying out glitter markers, limited edition washi tape, and a mechanical hot glue gun that looked military-grade.

You stood in the doorway behind him with a tray of cookies you’d baked for the class. You smiled politely.

“Satoru.”

He turned. “Oh, hello. Didn’t see you there, Miss Martha Stewart.”

“Crafts and snacks?” you mused. “How generous. Overcompensating?”

“For being better?” he asked. “Always.”

You leaned in with a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t trip over your ego. The kids might need the glue gun.”

By Friday, the teachers knew.

So did the kids. One of the parents whispered, “Are they fighting or flirting?” The answer was unclear.

Satoru had started writing messages inside his bento boxes. Not to Megumi — to you.

Today’s note:

“If food is the language of love, then you’re grammatically incorrect.”

The whole lunch table laughed.

Nobara rolled her eyes. “He thinks he’s funny.”

You snapped your chopsticks. “He thinks wrong.”

That night, you stayed up sketching a meal plan for next week.

It included:

* Onigiri shaped like your face.

* A thermos of miso soup that would spell “LOSER” in seaweed letters.

* A sweet treat shaped like a crown. Because, obviously, you were winning.

The next morning, you packed it all with a note.

“Didn’t realize ‘obnoxious’ was a flavor. Hope you like eating your words.”

Nobara shook her head in awe. “You guys are crazy.”

You kissed her forehead. “Crazy never loses, baby.”

Later that night, after the dishes were done and Nobara was asleep with her arm flung over her stuffed rabbit, you sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath you.

Your phone buzzed again.

Satoru: So. About Monday . Have you ever seen a bento shaped like an aquarium?

You laughed. Softly. Quietly.

Then you typed back.

You: I’m not scared. Bring the fish

It was the kind of Monday morning where everything felt too still.

The sky was pale, streaked with soft morning hues. You could hear birds chirping through the cracked window, the slow rhythm of life starting outside — but your apartment held an anxious buzz. The kettle hissed on the stove. Nobara munched toast loudly from the kitchen table.

And you? You were sweating over seaweed.

“Okay, okay—what does a goldfish even look like in rice?” you muttered, fingers trembling slightly as you tried to press a cutout into shape. You’d watched two YouTube tutorials. You’d used a cookie cutter. You’d begged a god you didn’t believe in.

All for one reason: Satoru Gojo and his threat of an aquarium bento.

Well, no. Just Satoru now. And he’d made it clear in his last message: this was war.

“You're acting like he’s your boyfriend,” Nobara said, watching you from the doorway as she chewed. “You should just ask him to come over and make lunch together.”

You dropped the rice mold.

“Excuse me?”

She grinned. “It’s obvious, Mom.”

You stared at her, flustered. “What’s obvious?”

“That you’re into him.”

“I am not into him.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You stayed up to boil eggs at midnight and print tiny edible labels.”

You pointed a spoon at her. “You’re grounded.”

“I’m eight.”

You sighed dramatically and turned back to the bento. “This is for you, you know.”

“Sure. Totally. For me.”

You paused. “Is he… talking about it at school?”

Nobara shrugged. “Not really. But Megumi said his dad was ‘up all night yelling at seaweed.’”

You smiled, despite yourself.

You arrived at school just as Satoru did. He had one hand on Megumi’s shoulder and the other holding something under a cloth cover like he was revealing a masterpiece.

He wore a soft blue sweater today. Simple. Gentle on his frame. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d only just blow-dried it, and his sunglasses were pushed up into his hair.

He looked… softer than usual. You lifted a hand in greeting as you approached, and he smiled—wide and genuine.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Born ready.”

Megumi groaned beside him. “You two are embarrassing.”

Nobara gasped. “Us?! You’re just mad because we have better food.”

Satoru laughed and pulled the cloth off his creation.

And there it was. A full-blown underwater-themed bento. Blue-tinted rice shaped into waves, seaweed coral fans, cheese-starfish, and tiny carrot octopi with sesame-seed eyes.

You blinked.

He grinned. “Still not scared?”

“I respect the craftsmanship,” you said, peeking into your own container. “But I think my jellyfish dumplings are going to win.”

You opened the lid. Satoru leaned in.

“Oh my god—are those noodles shaped like eels?”

“You bet your sweet seaweed they are.”

You both burst out laughing. Megumi and Nobara sighed in perfect harmony.

The school principal sent a message at noon:

We love your creativity, but please tone down the lunches. The other kids are starting to get upset.P.S. We would love for both of you to volunteer at the spring festival next month.

You stared at the message. Then your phone buzzed again:

Satoru: We’ve been punished. But… group punishment? Are we officially in this together now?

Your heart skipped.

You: I think we’re lunch criminals.

Satoru: Does this mean we finally grab that coffee? Or are we keeping it competitive?

You: Coffee. But only so I can interrogate your rice fish technique.

That weekend , you found yourself standing outside a quiet café near the park. The sun was warm on your shoulders, and your coat hung open as the breeze tugged at the hem of your shirt. It had been a long time since you'd waited for someone like this — not for a meeting, not for a kid’s event.

Just… a coffee.

With him. When Satoru arrived, he didn’t greet you with a joke. He just smiled. Quiet. Warm.

“Hi,” he said.

You smiled back. “Hi.”

He held the door for you, and the two of you slid into a booth. The smell of espresso and baked sugar filled the space between you.

He looked different without the performative chaos. Less shiny. More real.

You ordered lattes, and neither of you spoke until the cups hit the table.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say yes,” he admitted, stirring sugar into his drink.

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.”

He smiled. “Megumi’s been sleeping easier since this whole thing started. He hasn’t said it, but… he’s happier.”

Your heart tugged. “Nobara too. She feels seen. Even when she’s pretending she doesn’t care.”

A pause settled between you.

Then he asked, quietly, “Are you and… Nobara’s father still close?”

You blinked. “He’s still in Nobara’s life. Always will be. But no, not… not like that.”

Satoru’s jaw flexed for a moment. Then he nodded.

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You’re not.”

Another pause.

Then you added softly, “He’s a good man. Just not the right one.”

Satoru looked at you — really looked at you.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “sometimes the right one just shows up late.”

Your eyes met. And for a moment, the air felt too warm, too close, like the café had shrunk around the booth and the silence between your cups had turned into something fragile and hopeful.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Petals drifted from the trees like confetti. Satoru walked you to the corner, hands in his coat pocket, and you hugged your arms close.

He glanced over at you. “You cold?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

But he stepped closer anyway. Just enough that your sleeves brushed. And you let them. Just like that.

You never meant for it to be a date. You told yourself it wasn’t. That it was just coffee again. Just… hanging out. For the kids. For the bento truce. For your own sanity.

But as you stood in your hallway that morning, staring at your reflection — wearing your favorite blouse and those jeans that hugged you just enough — you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore.

You wanted this to be a date. You wanted him.

It was Satoru’s idea to meet at the local farmers market. You found him there just before noon, leaning against a vendor’s tent with two drinks in hand and sunglasses perched in his hair.

“Peach iced tea,” he said, offering you a cup. “I remembered you said you like sweet things.”

You blinked. “I didn’t realize you were listening that hard.”

“I’m always listening,” he said, then smiled like it cost him nothing. But his eyes didn’t move from yours for a beat too long. And your heart… did something traitorous.

You walked the stalls slowly, sipping tea and talking about everything except the kids.

He told you about the worst haircut he ever had — a childhood mullet, by the sound of it — and you told him how Nobara once shaved her eyebrows trying to “look fierce.”

You passed a flower stand. He paused.

“Pick one.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re letting me choose?”

“I want to see what you think is pretty.”

You turned to the rows of fresh-cut blooms and carefully plucked a tulip — not the flashiest, not the rarest. Just… soft. Quiet.

He watched you hold it for a second, then said, almost too softly, “Figures you’d pick the gentle one.”

Lunch was shared on a shaded bench by the pond. You split a wrap and laughed too loud over how many ducks tried to steal your crumbs. One brushed his foot and he shrieked like a child.

“Nope. That was it. I’m done with nature.”

You were still laughing when you stood, brushing off crumbs — and his hand hovered just slightly at your lower back. Not quite touching.

But close.

So close.

That week, everything returned to routine. Until it didn’t.

You were waiting near the school gate for Nobara, arms crossed against the spring breeze, when a car pulled up quietly beside you.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was. The silver sedan. The clean lines. The precision of it all. Kento Nanami.

He stepped out in his usual beige coat, hair combed neatly back, his presence like a book you’d once memorized: predictable, comforting, closed.

“Hi,” he said, voice even.

“Hey,” you replied, offering a small smile. “She’s almost out.”

He nodded. Then — his eyes shifted. Past you. To the figure walking across the lot.

Satoru.

He was laughing, something bright and easy in his expression as he walked Megumi toward the gate. He didn’t notice you at first — not until his eyes lifted and caught yours.

Then… he saw Nanami. And Nanami saw him. A flicker of recognition crossed both their faces. Not quite surprise. Not quite hostility. Just something… cautious. You felt the temperature shift.

Satoru approached, nodding politely. “Hey.”

Nanami gave the smallest incline of his head. “You must be Satoru.”

“I am,” he said, easy smile still in place. “You must be Nanami.”

You could feel the tension threading between them — not loud, not aggressive. Just loaded.

“Thank you for walking her in the mornings,” Nanami said to you, eyes on Satoru. “Nobara tells me you’ve been packing some… interesting lunches.”

“Guilty,” Satoru said. “Though she started it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make me separate you two.”

They both chuckled — polite, tight.

Just then, the doors opened and kids spilled out in waves. Nobara ran straight for you, waving wildly. Megumi followed behind, quieter but smiling as he saw his dad.

You crouched to hug your daughter, the men standing like mirrored statues above you — each holding half your past and present.

“Weekend plans?” Satoru asked softly once Megumi had taken his hand.

You glanced toward Kento, then back to him.

“Just a little rest. And time with her dad.”

“I get it,” he said, offering a soft smile. “See you Monday?”

You nodded. “Yeah. See you.”

As he turned to walk away with Megumi, Nanami glanced at you, voice low.

“He seems… interesting.”

You glanced at him sideways. “He is.”

He was quiet a moment.

Then: “I’m glad you’re smiling again.”

Your breath caught.

“Me too.”

You didn’t plan to invite him over.

Not that week. Not that day. Not while your apartment was cluttered with stray socks and half-eaten fruit cups and you hadn’t even remembered to light a candle to cover the scent of Nobara’s slime experiments.

But it just… happened.

Satoru had been waiting outside the school, balancing Megumi’s backpack on one shoulder and Nobara’s art project in the other — because she’d “forgotten it in his car.” You knew she hadn’t. You’d seen the way she smiled when she said it.

And you’d seen the look Satoru gave you when he said, “I owe you dinner now, don’t I?”

You could’ve said no.

But the thing was — your daughter had already run over and asked if Megumi could come up to play. So you said yes.

He took off his shoes the second he stepped inside, toes wiggling against your mat like he owned the place. Megumi walked in behind him, wide-eyed, cradling a small bag of LEGOs like a peace offering.

The kids disappeared into the living room.

You found yourself standing beside Satoru in your kitchen, hands brushing once as you reached for the same drawer.

“Oh,” you murmured, pulling back. “Sorry.”

“No,” he said, “I liked that.”

Your breath hitched.

You laughed softly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m right,” he said, smiling as he leaned against the counter. “You do make this place feel warm.”

You tried not to stare. Not at the way his hair had flattened from the car. Not at the way he’d rolled his sleeves up, or how his voice had gentled around your daughter’s name.

You reached for a pan. “You cook?”

“I reheat.”

“Well then,” you said, trying to sound smug. “Prepare to be amazed.”

You made a simple meal — grilled salmon, soft rice, sautéed greens — but the way he watched you do it, you'd think you were crafting art.

Satoru offered to cut the vegetables, and you handed him the board with a quiet warning: “Don’t embarrass yourself.”

He pretended to be offended. “I have knife skills.”

You smirked. “Bet.”

The conversation stayed light. Easy. Familiar.

You’d never had this with Nanami — not because he was cold, but because everything with him had always felt structured, purposeful. Like it had to be done right the first time.

With Satoru, nothing was perfect. But it was fun.

You turned around to catch him stealing a cucumber slice.

“Caught you.”

“I’m sampling. It’s quality control.”

You reached to swat him, and instead — your fingers brushed his jaw. Just for a second. Just enough. And then the front door buzzed.

You knew who it was before you checked. Nanami stood there in his pressed shirt, tie slightly loosened, holding Nobara’s overnight bag.

“Thought I’d grab her early,” he said.

“Of course,” you answered, suddenly too aware of how quiet the apartment had become.

Satoru appeared behind you a beat later. He didn’t say anything at first, just raised a hand in polite greeting.

Nanami’s expression didn’t change.

You cleared your throat. “Come in for a second?”

He stepped in.

The warmth from dinner still lingered. Plates on the table. Soft music from the speaker. Laughter trickling in from the kids’ room.

Nanami scanned it all. His gaze landed last on you.

“Looks like you had company.”

You nodded. “Just dinner.”

A pause.

Nobara came bounding out, face lighting up when she saw her father. “Daddy!”

He crouched to hug her, strong arms catching her easily, pressing his lips into her hair.

“I missed you.”

She giggled. “You saw me two days ago.”

“It’s too long.”

She waved to Megumi. “Bye, Megu!”

Satoru nodded at her with a warm smile. “Don’t forget your slime.”

“I never do.”

Nanami helped her into her coat and grabbed her bag. But before stepping out, he turned to you.

“Could we talk? Just us?”

Satoru looked between you. Then nodded, quiet.

“I’ll keep the kids busy.”

You followed Nanami to the small bench just outside your building, where the streetlamps flickered and the chill evening air kissed your skin.

He didn’t speak right away.

Neither did you.

“I didn’t come here to interfere,” he said finally, voice low. “Or make you feel guilty.”

“I don’t.”

“I just…” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “You look happy.”

You nodded.

“I always wanted that for you,” he said. “Even if it wasn’t with me.”

Your throat tightened.

He looked at his hands. “I think I spent so long trying to build something stable, something lasting, that I forgot it also had to be… soft. And I’m sorry for the ways that made you feel invisible.”

“I was never invisible,” you said. “You just loved in a way I couldn’t hold.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s a beautiful way of putting it.”

A pause passed.

“I don’t regret loving you,” he said quietly. “I still do, in a way. I think a part of me always will.”

Your eyes stung.

“But I’m not here to win you back,” he said. “I’m just here to say… I hope he knows what he’s getting.”

You smiled. “He does.”

“Good,” Nanami said, rising to his feet. “Because I’ve never seen you glow like this.”

When you returned upstairs after kissing Nobara’s forehead before she left with her dad, the house smelled like soap and oranges. Megumi was asleep on the couch under one blanket, tangled in a mess of limbs and LEGO bricks.

And Satoru… he was sitting on the floor beside them, eyes closed, head resting back against the couch.

You didn’t wake him.

You just sat beside him quietly, your shoulder brushing his. And this time, you didn’t pull away.

You hadn’t meant to plan a family outing. Not when the word family still made your chest feel tight, uneven. You weren’t trying to blend anything. You were just trying to let the kids have fun.

But somehow, by the time you found yourself holding two park tickets and a paper map to the zoo, with Nobara’s hand in yours and Satoru carrying Megumi on his back, it felt… a little too perfect to call it just a playdate.

“Did we really just spend sixty dollars on entry and ten on a giraffe magnet?” you muttered, eyeing the stuffed animal in Nobara’s arms.

“She named it Sato,” Satoru whispered behind his palm. “Which I take as a sign she’s developing excellent taste.”

You elbowed him. He grinned.

The day stretched out like honey. You saw flamingos, lions, capybaras. Satoru bought all of you ice cream, then tried to juggle the cones and dropped his own on his shoe.

Megumi, with a rare smile, offered him a bite of his instead.

“I’m being generous,” the boy said, serious.

“You’re being perfect,” Satoru replied, ruffling his son’s hair.

You saw the way Satoru looked at Megumi — all pride and softness, a quiet ache in the space behind his smile. And the more you watched it, the more you started to wonder.

Where was her? The mother behind those eyes.

Later, the four of you found a shaded table near the panda exhibit, the air sticky with sunscreen and the squeals of nearby children.

The kids were coloring a shared map with highlighters when Nobara, suddenly, without looking up, said, “Dad, can Megumi come over again tomorrow?”

You stilled. So did Satoru. Megumi glanced up too. No one corrected her. Not at first. You looked over at Satoru slowly. He didn’t look away. Instead, he smiled — a small, breathless sort of smile.

“Maybe,” he said. “If his mom is okay with it.”

Your heart jumped.

But you just nodded, cheeks warming. “I think she’d say yes.”

The ride home was quieter. The kids knocked out in the back seat, your daughter’s cheek against Megumi’s head.

You stared out the window until Satoru finally asked, voice low, “You want to know about Megumi’s mom, don’t you?”

You looked at him carefully. “I do. But only if you want to tell me.”

He exhaled, the sound worn.

“She was someone I thought I’d love forever,” he said. “But I never got the chance to know if I actually would.”

You stayed silent.

“She left before Megumi turned two. Said she couldn’t do it — the parenting, the mess, the tether. She wanted freedom. I don’t hate her for that. But I don’t… admire her, either.”

You reached for his hand without thinking. And he let you hold it.

“She’s alive, somewhere,” he said. “But we don’t talk. Haven’t in years. I never wanted to tell Megumi anything that would make him feel unwanted.”

Your heart ached.

“Does he remember her?”

“Only in pieces. Mostly questions. I try to give him enough love for two people, but…” His voice trailed off. “Some days, it’s hard.”

You squeezed his hand.

“You’re doing a good job, Satoru.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. Like he’d never seen someone say those words to him without expecting something back.

You whispered, “You’re a really good father.”

A pause. Then he leaned over. Pressed his forehead to yours.

And in the quiet, you could feel something shift between you — slow and warm and blooming. Not rushed. Not forced. Just real.

When he walked you upstairs that night, Nobara still sleeping in your arms, he didn't try to kiss you.

He didn’t ask for more.

He just looked at you, like he didn’t want to leave.

“Tell me next time you’re making bento,” he said.

You smiled. “I always do.”

And he turned and walked away — but not without one last glance over his shoulder, that quiet, boyish grin pulling at his lips.

And for the first time in years, as you closed the door behind you, the silence in your apartment didn’t feel lonely. It felt full.

You’d never seen where he lived. You’d seen the car, the way he dressed, the subtle signs of someone who lived more freely than most single parents. But his home?

It was a mystery. Until that Friday.

Part 2 >>>

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