𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋
summary: 22.8k words — it’s a change of scenery, change of friends, and even a change of dynamics. you and megumi go through all of middle school together.
notes: popping this one out at 4am where i live. you bitches better be GRATEFUL after begging for this update 0-0 the next update, before anyone asks, is probably going to take even LONGER bc i have to focus on my levi fic. don’t give me that look — that hasn’t been updated since november 😧
tw: swearing (like, once, i believe).
i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2014-2015 sixth grade
'the day's nearly over' you reminded yourself over and over again as you walked down the unfamiliar hallways.
they told you that middle school was different, but nobody warned you about how independent you'd have to be from here on out. you found yourself comparing nearly everything to elementary school, which you were comfortably attending not even six weeks ago. you did not think you'd prefer elementary school, especially not with the monster of a teacher that you were blessed with for two years in a row, but when you found that you didn't share every single class of yours with megumi, you grew more and more disappointed.
you only shared four out of the eight classes you had in a day with him. it didn't help that you ended up picking theatre and he ended up picking art.
so you found yourself walking down the long hallway and taking the first left where you knew the theatre area was (curtesy of the open days you'd attended during the fifth grade) with the comforting conversation you'd had with your mom before she dropped you off at school in the morning.
during the summer, over on friday night dinner at satoru's place (the usual), it had been vaguely discussed how you and megumi would now be able to walk yourselves to your new school without the suffocating presence of one (or even both) of your parents. the excitement of it all came with the thought of starting an entirely new school, though it faded after the familiarity of your normal routine — where your mothers dropped you off with kisses and lots of smiles — changed completely the second your foot crossed over the line that indicated school grounds.
for the first day, your parents insisted on dropping all of you off (uncle ogi included, even though it was only maki and mai's second year here) and before you could follow your friends past the school gate, your mom had rubbed your back soothingly, as if she knew something you didn't.
you realised what it was now — a big change. though it wasn't entirely unpleasant, you just weren't too used to it.
at the end of the corridor, outside of the theatre hall, you could see people going in and out, movement very clear from where you were standing. however, the closer you got, the two stagnant figures at the end if the hall became more clear to you: a boy about your height and a girl taller than the both of you.
you weren't an eavesdropper (in most circumstances) but here, you could tell that there was some uncomfortable tension surrounding the two of them, so you paid attention as you leaned against the wall. you had time till your lesson started, you figured that you could use the spare time for something juicy.
"sorry, no... i don't really know who you are," the girl spoke, her voice soft as silk as she adjusted the singular strap of her bag over her shoulder.
immediately, you became well aware of what was occurring before you — the guy was asking the girl out. and it seemed that, judging from the girl's delicate response, they had only just met.
expecting the boy to back off and leave, you averted your attention to the display board hanging on the opposite wall, showcasing several plays that the school had their theatre students successfully perform. however, even as you found yourself immersed in the talent that was presented in polaroids and printed images, your ears could not block out the heated argument that the boy had then started.
"i never wanted to be with you anyways," he began, expression feral by the time you'd turned your head to see it. "you're a bitch, and you're never gonna get asked out again. i only did it because i felt sorry for you."
your brows had already knitted themselves together as you watched the boy go on a tangent with his displeasure on getting rejected. you silently examined for the next couple of seconds to see if the girl would defend herself, throw in a few casual responses as well, maybe, but when the slightly busy corridor only echoed the conversations of the ignorant teens walking by as if nothing major was happening, you knew she was too polite to say anything.
he opened his nasty mouth once more — perhaps to spew more venomous lies and pointless insults — but was cut off by your cruel intervention.
"look who's talking, with a mouth like yours, that underbite's making it difficult for me to see if you're a camel or human."
you imitated his underbite, jutting out your bottom teeth in a rather aggressive manner. and you weren't done there — you raised a gentle hand over the girl in a hesitant manner, a silent question as to whether you had permission to touch her. when the girl nodded ever so slightly, you continued with your theatrics.
"go out with me," you cried, underbite still exaggeratively visible. "otherwise no one else will!"
"neanderthal-looking motherfucker," a pretty, dark-haired girl added swiftly. you looked over your shoulder, following the sound of the confident voice. she was standing behind the three of you, apparently attentive to what had been happening before her.
you grinned, turning back to the dumbfounded boy once more. "yeah, clear example of failed evolution, guys."
it seemed that the boy had had enough, turning away and scoffing to himself as he pulled up his loose pants and stomped off, fuming. you half expected smoke to flow out of his ears, surprised when he silently disappeared without commotion.
"i hate guys," the short-haired helper commented casually, eyes still focused on the end of the corridor where he'd last been seen by the three of you.
you nodded. "me too."
"thank you so much," the other girl said with a smile, looking more relieved than ever. her blonde hair, which was already tied back in a low ponytail, was tangled between her pale fingers. maybe it was a nervous tic. "he's in my math class, he tried talking to me there too."
"ugh, forget him, you're literally so gorgeous," the fiercer one of the two girls replied with a sigh. "anyway, are you two here for theatre?"
"oh, no, not me," the other girl responded, her pale cheeks now dusted with a light pink. it had been, no doubt, due to the compliment she received. she shook her head. "i left my bag over here so i had to come back and get it, but i'll see you guys around — i'm kat, short for katie."
"y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile.
"i'm nobara," said the dark haired girl.
the pleasantries and small conversations did not last long, for kat had to run off after a short while, hurriedly explaining to you and nobara that her next lesson was in the complete opposite side of the building. the two of you waved off her apology as she scrambled to secure her bag over her shoulder and run off mid-conversation, reassuring her that she was fine and she had nothing to worry about.
when it was just you and nobara left, and she didn't make a move to leave, you knew she was in the same theatre class.
"i don't swear often," she told you, as the both of you made your way into the theatre hall.
immediately, your vision blanked, unable to see through the complete darkness and lack of light. at first, you almost believed that you made it to the wrong room, but after hearing whispers from your other supposed classmates wondering the same (only aloud) you knew you couldn't have gotten it wrong.
nobara seemed unfazed as she continued her incomplete sentence:
"— but guys really irritate me."
you nodded, and then mentally slapped yourself when you remembered that she couldn't see you — unless she had some weird type of supernatural night vision. you almost laughed at that: if megumi were here, he'd complain about abilities as such being 'not real'.
the lights switched on suddenly, blinding you and the rest of your classmates momentarily. you shut your eyes immediately, face scrunched in distaste at the foolish decision made by whoever had turned the lights on without a simple warning.
by the time you opened your eyes, you found who the culprit was — your (apparently dramatic) and first ever theatre teacher: mr white. he was a lanky old man with a bent posture and thin, rectangle glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose.
"don't let him hear you say that," you muttered with a unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile as he introduced himself with a voice way too loud for this late in the day. "he looks like a scientist."
"he's a theatre teacher," nobara pointed out with a raised brow.
"but he looks like a mad scientist," you continued stubbornly.
nobara regarded you with a look of oddity and for a moment, you were afraid that it'd be a whole new situation where she'd snitch on you for saying such a thing (it had happened back at elementary before; that was a story for another time), but she proved you wrong when her face broke out in a grin, not tight to show that it was forced, and not too expressive to show that it was fake.
"i see it," she agreed with a laugh. "good eye!"
and without even realising it, as the two of you sat together by the cinema-like seats and compared your timetables with one another (you shared six out of eight classes with her!), you had made your first new friend other than megumi.
bonus point: she's a girl!
maybe middle school wasn't so bad. especially not when you and nobara had become mr white's favourite to use as demonstrations for the lesson ("...see? for example, let's say... you, what's your name? y/n? lovely! let's say y/n here had to do a performance. she wouldn't be able to say no even if she hated it because that's professio— huh? you would say no? oh... that's bold. oh, did you day something? what's your name? nobara — okay, well the thing is, you can't just refuse to work with men all the time — no you can't hit them if they tell you that you have to, girls").
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you let out a gasp of shock when megumi and another pink-haired boy approached you and nobara by the lockers. the final lesson on both of your timetables was physical education, which nobara had audibly expressed that she absolutely detested. you weren't bad at sports at all — in fact, you were rather good at things like gymnastics, basketball and dodgeball if you really tried, but physical education as a lesson?
you never took it seriously.
you were sure that during elementary school, you'd cost your team a game because you completely stood still and examined your nails when one of your teammates wanted to pass the ball to you.
but while nobara's concerns were about the next lesson she was dreading, yours were about the two boys approaching you, particularly the bright-eyed, tall, pink-haired one.
pink hair? you thought to yourself with a grimace. what a weirdo.
you could not find it in yourself to believe that megumi fushiguro, ever the stoic and heartless one, made friends with a (you assumed was friendly) pink-haired guy. your mind had to put extra emphasis on the pink-haired part of his description. surely he hadn't actually wanted to dye his hair pink? surely it must've been an accident that just so happened to have occurred just before the first day of middle school — quite like how you and uncle ogi accidentally dyed one half of mai's hair blue while the other remained pink at some point during fourth grade...
but with the way the boy carried himself, his hands casually resting in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with megumi, an unwavering smile plastered over his gentle face, you were under the assumption that the result of his hair was no accident.
weird.
megumi acknowledged you with raised brows the moment he came within hearing distance of you. he barely acknowledged nobara, whose brows had furrowed in a skeptical manner when it became clear that yes, megumi and his friend were indeed approaching you.
"what's your next class?" said megumi, sounding gloomier than usual. perhaps he'd been having the same thoughts about starting a new school as you had — everyone knew that megumi hated change.
the boy next to him raised a hand and waved. you turned back to your childhood friend with narrowed eyes.
"first of all, it's p.e," you said hurriedly, the sound of nobara closing her locker echoing around the halls. people were starting to come out of their classes, heading to their next one. "secondly, did you just replace me?"
megumi released a small exhale through his nose to show his disbelief at your question. through half-lidded eyes, he averted his gaze from you to nobara, scowling. it was clear what he was indicating, and you weren't very impressed with his silent words.
"this is nobara and she's actually better than you, so..." you introduced her without even looking at her.
megumi's pink-haired companion spoke up just after you.
"i'm yuji," he said helpfully, the smile still present on his face despite your very loud claim of megumi having betrayed you by apparently 'replacing' you with this yuji.
yuji... the name fit, somehow.
"megumi," the messy-haired boy replied, barely smiling or making an attempt to seem welcoming at all.
nobara leaned in towards you, uncaring of whether the two boys noticed or not.
"he looks like he used to pick his boogers and eat them," she whispered, her chin lifting to gesture at yuji. before you could put your input on that, her gaze shifted back to megumi. "and he looks entitled — didn't even start with 'i'm' or 'my name is'. you're seriously friends with this guy?"
"oh that's just what megumi does. he's just angry at life for no reason, you'll get used to it!" you clarified brightly.
megumi did not like that. he raised his pale hand to flick your forehead, and you were so invested in making fun of him, you hadn't realised that he was aiming to do it until you felt the harsh sting of the attack just after he'd dropped his hand back to his side.
"ouch!" you hissed, rubbing your forehead and glaring at him. "why did you do that porcupine? i was gonna introduce myself to yuji!"
"don't bother," he responded, teeth gritted as your loose tongue slipped out the embarrassing nickname you'd made for him. "already told him your name —"
"porcupine?" repeated yuji, only further agitating megumi, who had a clenched jaw now. he faced up at your mutual friend — yuji was about the same height as you, and megumi had grown slightly over the summer so it grew a little more difficult to be able to see the the entire surface area of his messy hair as easily as you once used to. but yuji had decided that he'd seen enough when he let out a boisterous laugh. "hey, i see it! you look like a porcupine!"
as you and nobara laughed at the expression on megumi's face, yuji continued to explain what he'd meant, even as megumi glared at him with enough intensity to potentially kill.
"'cause... 'cause your hair —"
"i get it," he snapped, effectively ending the open-day-on-megumi-fushiguro.
"i like you y/n," said yuji, shortly after.
you beamed. "i like me too!"
megumi watched the interaction before him, his mind immediately figuring out a way to piss you off the same way you managed to piss him off. after knowing you for so long, and going through thick and thin with each other, it wasn't hard for megumi to plunge his hand into the pit in his mind where his witty responses remained, and pull something out to at least render you the slightest bit speechless (his record timing of keeping you silent with embarrassment had been five seconds).
"so do we all have p.e then?" nobara questioned, seemingly accepting the fact that megumi and yuji were going to be with you for the rest of your time here at middle school. it didn't mean that she was necessarily pleased, however, but she did like you and would remain friends with you even if it meant having to be around the two boys.
"yeah, but we're not in the same classes," you said, defeated. "nobara and i are though!"
"are we in their class?" yuji cluelessly asked megumi.
the aloof boy shrugged. "i don't know, ask the mermaid."
time stopped for you.
"the mermaid?" both yuji and nobara repeated with confusion.
there was ringing in both your ears, forcing you to grow less and less attentive of the bewilderment surrounding your two new friends. something in your stomach was wiggling, encouraging you to bend over and release the contents of that morning's breakfast down, eyes narrowing to prevent it all. your jaw had become less tense, slowly dropping to allow your soft lips to form an 'o', your expression softening all the while. your vision grew blurry, not through tears, no, but through the growing heat beneath your skin all over your body. you unknowingly clenched your fists, nails digging into the ends of your palms to form half-moon crescents into your smooth skin.
you had never felt such rage course through your body — your soul, even — in the eleven years of life that you'd been living. it didn't come as a surprise to you that megumi would be the reason, but you'd hoped that out of everything he could have said to anyone in the future, it would be anything but that.
his voice echoed in your mind even though you could clearly see his lips remained unmoving.
'i don't know, ask the mermaid...'
'(...) know, ask the mermaid...'
'ask the mermaid...'
'(...) the mermaid...'
'(...) mermaid...'
mermaid.
the scene before you had flashed before your eyes, the embarrassment you'd felt at the end of the day when you'd later failed to convince everyone that you just so happened to be a mermaid.
the shame brought upon you during the family dinner that week, and how easily it was for everyone to make fun of you when usually, it was always you that managed to poke fun at someone.
"megumi fushiguro," you started slowly, cutting through yuji's random theory about what 'mermaid' could have possibly meant. the traitor you were addressing raised a brow at you expectantly. "how dare you."
before he could open his mouth and retort, (nobara began talking: "what are you— oh!") you stepped forward and pulled his hair, your ultimate move as he gripped your wrist tightly, one eye shut and one eye open in pain. you didn't stop there, raising your leg to kick him in the knee. you shoved him away, dusting yourself off as if you'd touched the dirtiest thing the world had to offer.
he regained his composure easily, glaring at you throughout it all.
"ouch," he said, face straight and firm.
nobara gave him a look of disgust, everyone collectively ignoring yuji's difficulty in standing up straight to stop himself from laughing (megumi slapped his hand off of his shoulder when he attempted to use it as a grip).
you threw your chin in the air with a look of something between victory and annoyance.
"don't embarrass me in front of nobara ever again."
nobara would have laughed at that, but she was too occupied with her absolute discontent towards megumi and his reaction to your attack.
"why are you acting like that didn't hurt?" she demanded fiercely.
megumi shrugged, his hands still planted casually in the pockets of his school pants.
"seriously, how are you friends with this guy?" she then asked you, regarding your moody friend with a look of contempt.
"after this? we're not friends," you declared. but your decision hadn't lasted even five seconds before you stared up at him with disbelief. "megumi, where's your friendship bracelet?"
he looked down at his empty wrist. "i took it off."
"oh — oh, i see how it is," you snapped, taking nobara's hand and stomping away.
the boys watched you walk off, megumi looking exhausted and yuji sporting a wide smile. you were glad nobara did not put up any resistance in being dragged away. in fact, she seemed to be pushing further so she could take the lead instead.
"you'll never — see this face — again!" you called out over your shoulder.
for the brief moment you caught each other's gazes, you were submerged in a moment of betrayal when he did not seem the slightest bit upset. megumi merely stared back at you, deadpanned, the further you walked.
"we're going the same way," he brutally commented.
you hated that he was always right. would it kill him to be wrong just for a bit? if only to save yourself from the embarrassment once again?
"i know."
you hadn't. you'd forgotten.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
physical education felt like you'd joined the military here in middle school — why hadn't maki warned you of that? though arguably, when you and mai had spoken about starting the school, she'd mentioned how difficult it would be, and how maki was such a loser that she took this course incredibly serious.
you weren't bad at sports at all. in fact, you enjoyed it. the annual family football game meant that you had to enjoy it because it was a necessity — you remembered how mai found it super difficult to keep up with everyone else just because her interests lied elsewhere. winning was very important to you, so you always opted to choose mai last whenever you ended up being captain of your team.
that being said, all of that wouldn't be believable if anyone saw the stance you were taking now at the dodgeball game coach yaga (a broad, angry man with flattened hair and sunglasses who seemed to dislike you the most) had organised for you all.
though your timetables had made it extremely crystal clear that you and nobara were not in the same class as megumi and yuji were for p.e, coach yaga had all the classes merge for the first lesson ever to play one massive round of dodgeball. you were pleased to find that the four of you were all on the same team, though the coach began to slowly regret his choice, particularly when the first round had started and he'd finally, properly met you, y/n l/n.
the second his whistle went off, every single person in your team (and the one across you) dashed forward to grab at the balls lined in the centre of the field. everyone except from you.
see, you had stayed back and admired the grass beneath your sneakers, fond at how vibrant the green was. the coach was shouting at someone, and perhaps you should have paid attention to who, especially when you saw him glaring in your direction. you looked back, as if trying to see if he was shouting at someone behind you, only to be met with the empty air of space. you turned, raising your brows as you placed your pointer finger on your chest and mouthed a startled 'me?'.
"YES, YOU!" he'd bellowed, arms outstretched in disbelief. "WHO ELSE?"
you looked around, indeed trying to find who else and only growing distracted with how impressed you were at yuji's speed since he'd been the first out of both teams to reach the line of balls and take them.
"go yuji!" you cheered joyfully. "i've got your back —" you announced proudly, and when you tried moving forward to help, a ball missed you by two inches. you stepped back again. "... from right here!"
"what the hell are you, a cheerleader?" coach yaga demanded. "GET ON THE FIELD!"
"i am!" you argued back, gesturing to where you were standing which, indeed, was on the field.
you were growing very frustrated with whoever this damn coach was. the first time he'd yelled at you, you let it slide. now, however, you were starting to get annoyed.
"GET ON THE —" he started, turning away and sighing when two of your teammates had been hit below the waist. "YOU — WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
oh this is bad, you thought to yourself in fear. the very last thing you needed was a phone call home to your mom on your literal first day of a whole new school. you did not want a repeat of elementary school, but you could see the way coach yaga was glaring at you. it was almost similar to the way mrs davis — your fifth grade teacher — would stare at you: a menacing expression, made to intimidate you, no doubt.
you looked around, trying to formulate a plan in your head. the smartest idea was most likely to simply participate, but with how serious everyone seemed (some blonde dude from the other team literally screamed at another guy for not catching the ball) you had no desire to be apart of it all.
you turned back to coach yaga when he continued to demand your name.
"it's — it's megumi," you lied, mindful of the fact that megumi was at the front of the field, participating with such ease — the importance of that was to make sure that he hadn't heard you: he'd definitely tell the coach the truth instead (especially because your lie was at his expense).
the coach seemed skeptical, raising a brow at you and pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. you noticed how his hands were slightly more tanned than his face.
"you don't look like a megumi," he said, as he pointed at another student to silently tell them that they were out.
you did not know what to do then. how else were you supposed to convince him that your name was megumi? perhaps you could grow defensive... make him feel guilty for criticising your fake-name? no, you thought wisely, that would attract attention from megumi.
but it seemed that for the first time ever, luck was on your side — for coach yaga had grumbled under his breath, and through the loud yells of your fellow classmates, you heard each and every word he uttered.
"but i remember a megumi from the register..." he looked up at you again. "right. go and help your team!"
your head slowly turned to your fellow teammates, all of whom were working diligently to secure themselves a win. you drew back — dodgeball is never that serious. they were acting like their lives were on the line.
"um — i'm fine over here, actually," you giggled, muttering out a small 'ooh' whilst also flinching at the sight of nobara purposely aiming for that same tall, angry dude on the other team; she managed to hit him successfully.
"that wasn't an option," he spoke, his voice growing in volume with each word, until finally... "GO HELP YOUR TEAM, MEGUMI!"
megumi, who had quite literally just done exactly that by managing to take out the most competitive player of the other team, turned his head at the scolding he'd apparently received.
you had to hold back a laugh, puffing out your cheeks with the breath of air you'd held in to help with that. you were somewhat grateful for yaga's glasses as they made it difficult to see who he was looking at.
megumi, confused at the random scolding he received (one he firmly believed he did not deserve when that blonde girl on his left could barely throw at a proper distance), straightened up and turned his attention back to the game, catching a ball that had been thrown at him and ultimately leaving said-thrower out of the game.
meanwhile, you actually took several tentative steps forward, noticing a ball rolling at your feet. bending down, you picked it up and examined it for a moment. you raised it high, ready to throw it...
— to your teammate because you had no actual intention of participating in this inhumane sport ever.
coach yaga clearly did not like that:
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MEGUMI?"
the actual megumi turned his head to glare at the coach, who looked extremely irate. megumi did not understand — what was he doing wrong? why on earth was this man distracting him from playing for his team? was he purposely being biased, distracting him for no reason to allow the other team to secure a win?
he was growing angrier for every second yaga continued to scold him for doing the exact thing he kept saying megumi wasn't doing: catching the ball? he'd done it thrice. throwing the ball? he just did. participating? what the hell was he doing the entire game then, if not participating?
all the while, you had to turn away and place a hand over your mouth, your chest heaving every time coach yaga yelled at you and referred to you as megumi. it only grew more difficult to hold back a laugh, particularly when megumi would stand up and glare at the coach.
you somehow ended up in the middle of your team's side of the field, which was not what you wanted at all. but before you could turn and walk back to what you claimed as your designated spot at the very back of the field, you noticed your shoelace untied.
"oh!" you said, hearing coach yaga yell 'your' name as you bent down to tie your laces together again.
unbeknownst to you, when you'd ducked to do your laces, a ball had been thrown, and while it was meant for you, your action had allowed it to fly over you and hit another player who just so happened to have been standing behind you.
that must've been it for coach yaga, because at that time, he'd yelled at you louder than you'd ever heard him do so in the past fifteen minutes.
"MEGUMI, WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THAT BALL?" he bellowed, his grip on his whistle tightening so much, you could see his veins bulging. "YOU COST YOUR TEAM A PLAYER!"
the look on megumi's face was outrageous: his brows were furrowed so much that some of his forehead (that was usually mostly concealed by his fluffy hair) was slowly starting to show as he swiped a warm hand across his face in both exhaustion and irritation. he was now under the impression that coach yaga either picked on him for the sake of it, or that he was simply blind. it would explain the sunglasses he wore indoors.
megumi then unconsciously came up with the counterargument that satoru did the same, though he easily countered it with the fact that the white-haired male was simply foolish and incompetent.
megumi truly believed that, unlike satoru, yaga wasn't foolish or incompetent. he liked his strict nature. initially.
now, however, megumi was slowly growing to hate the man for spewing up lies about things that megumi had apparently done (when did he run away from an incoming ball?).
so being accused of costing a team a player when he'd indeed caught a ball and gave the team back a player was where he had to put his foot down. enough was enough.
"i didn't!" he snapped, yaga's head tilting and brows furrowing menacingly. megumi could have sworn that he also looked challenged, in a sense.
yaga let out a noise, something between a scoff and a gasp. he seemed almost confused.
"who are you, boy?"
megumi glowered. "megumi."
you watched the conversation playing out before you, watched as someone caught a ball that had been flying towards megumi's distracted figure, watched as yuji apologised to a girl he'd taken out of the game, watched as your plan deteriorated before you.
you had two options:
you could go ahead and distract coach yaga, turn his attention back to you and make him completely forget that a random, angry boy just lied about his name being yours... or, you could stand back and enjoy the show. after all, it was rather amusing, and you didn't actually believe that your lie could be held out for so long (though you were surprised with how much megumi had tolerated).
you chose the latter. it was fun.
"oh so you're the new class clown, are you?" said coach yaga, and you nearly choked on your own laughter when you saw megumi's offended expression. "nice try — megumi's a girl name."
oh, you thought with amusement. he pulled the perfect card; you watched as megumi's expression had softened (still glowering, always) and spoke under his breath.
"not a girl's name..."
"you trying to be funny, boy?" coach yaga continued brutally. he unfolded his arms. "you're not megumi. she is!"
your cover had been blown: megumi's head turned, leisurely, slowly, almost as if he was hoping, praying to the lord above, that 'she' wasn't who he thought it was.
but when his gaze met yours and found the amusement dancing around your features as you crouched to poorly hide your laughter, he knew his prayers had been dismissed.
of course. why did he even care to believe in hope at this point?
megumi might have been having the worst day of his life, but you were experiencing your best. it wasn't even coach yaga's exclamations that had you reeling (though it was a good contributing factor) it was megumi's realisation, the scowl on his face, the deadpanned look he sent as he sighed loudly, so much so that it almost sounded like a drawn out groan. there wasn't even a point in hiding your laughter from both him and coach yaga anymore, it was clear as day that you were enjoying every bit of this.
megumi was angry.
"i'm megumi," he informed coach yaga. "not her."
coach yaga didn't take that lightly.
"you — megumi is not your name, boy, what are you yapping about?" he demanded, almost growing. he reminded you of that one scene from your favourite anime 'attack on titan' where the teacher — keith shadis — yells at his students, face contorted to form an expression that looked rather funny to you.
"megumi is my name," your angry friend responded, side-stepping away from a ball that had been thrown at him. he glared at you. "that was your fault."
you raised a brow. "how? you dodged it."
he ignored you, choosing to glower at coach yaga instead.
"her name is y/n."
"the hell?"
you thought it was the perfect chance to confuse him even further. you called out to the coach from your favourite position at the back.
"no, no, he's right!" you informed him loudly. "he's megumi!"
coach yaga stared at you, positively startled. "what —"
"yeah, he's not lying! his name is megumi!"
coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. you waited patiently for him to look up, and eventually, when he did, he took his sunglasses off to finally address you, bare eyed and all.
you raised your brows in surprised anticipation.
"right — megumi — y/n — whatever the hell your name is — GET OVER HERE!"
you jumped, turning away and skipping forwards.
"erm — no thanks! i'll just start playing now!"
and true to your word, despite his loud protests (and how very verbal they were), you intercepted and caught a ball, saving a distracted girl on your team, and allowing one of your defeated teammates to return back to the field.
you beamed, waving the ball over your head at yaga.
"see? i did it!"
but you frowned at the sight of a particular player returning to the field due to your impeccable catch. you remembered him to be the random voice yelling at you to 'catch the ball!' or 'help us!'. how ironic.
"um — no, i don't want you back in the game," you said, walking up to him and pointing at the line of players that were out. "not after you shouted at me — don't look at me like that — it's my catch! you can be back in the game," you added to another player.
coach yaga screamed at you from in between the two lines of defeated players.
"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT!"
you averted your gaze from your classmate to the coach, slowly regarding him with a look of something in between disbelief and annoyance. you repressed the urge to scoff at him. what ridiculous rules he had made. you didn't remember dodgeball being this strict.
"well i think you should change that dumb rule," you told him, holding the ball beneath your pit and resting your weight on your left leg. "anyway, what are you waiting for?" you asked the other boy you wanted back on your team. "go!"
he was a stammering mess, gesturing from coach yaga to the field, muttering something about 'but i don't think i'm allowed to' or something along those lines. you were growing more impatient with every stutter, with every stammer, with every bit of hesitation.
sighing, you turned to the player that was actually meant to be back in the game, and gestured behind you at the field.
"ugh, you just go because he's taking too long and it's making me tired."
it was funny, because despite coach yaga's fury towards you, that boy had only gone and rightfully joined the game after you demanded so. perhaps p.e lessons weren't so bad, what had nobara been complaining about back when you had a conversation about sports by her locker? p.e was fantastic.
until your ears began to ring again. coach yaga had turned a deep shade of burgundy.
"HEY, THAT'S IT!" he bellowed, and to your complete surprise (and fear), he began stomping forward, making a move for you despite the game continuing.
you squeaked, dropping the ball and running away, unaware of the chaos that had ensued after the referee left his position. you noticed how several players from both teams thought it'd be wise to run back on the field, playing as though they had not quite literally cheated due to the coach's distraction. the thought would have made you laugh had you not been running for your life.
you looked over your shoulder and nearly fell over when someone from the opposing team had recklessly thrown a ball in your team's direction, only for it to hit coach yaga on his thigh.
you stopped, eyes darting over to the culprit who turned out to be a very tall, lanky, brunette kid. his eyes had turned as wide as saucers at the realisation of the gravity of what he'd done. you turned back to coach yaga, shaking your head at him.
"sir you're out," you alerted him helpfully.
you hadn't noticed yuji hovering over your shoulder, megumi standing idly beside him and nobara observing with poorly contained amusement.
"she's right y'know," you heard yuji comment to megumi lowly, but you knew that if you had been able to hear it, coach yaga had definitely heard it too. "he is out —"
you thought you made coach yaga absolutely lose it when he made his move towards you, walking through the ongoing game because he'd just about had it, but you did not know that there was more patience left in him to narrow, not until he stood before you now, fingers half curled inwards and hovering over his own head. you would've assumed that he was going to rip his own hair out, but then you noticed how he didn't really have any to do so.
it was when he started visibly vibrating on the spot, and practically acting feral with untamed indignation, did you fully realise the extent of just how short this man's temper was.
a noise bubbled out of his throat, something akin to a howl. you snorted.
"wait — why's he glitching?" you laughed, watching the odd scene unfold before you.
"oh — he's spazzing out," said yuji, sounding almost concerned despite speaking with a curious air of thoughtfulness.
"men," sighed nobara, eyeing coach yaga critically.
megumi observed his teacher, unbothered. "she broke our teacher."
"i did not break him!" you snapped, but then noticed something that made you clap excitedly. "megumi! he's growling like bear from masha and the bear!" you chortled loudly, slapping away his hand that had extended past yuji to pinch at your arm.
"you couldn't have stopped yourself?" said megumi, eyes half-lidded and seeming slightly bored, not nearly as interested in coach yaga's odd actions as much as everyone else.
you frowned. "huh —"
"it's the first day."
"i know that," you said brightly. "what's your point?"
megumi walked away from you, muttering something under his breath.
it didn't take long before everyone lost interest in the dodgeball game at hand and became more fascinated with the way coach yaga ordered you to get off the playing field and face the other way, apparently in a middle-school version of time out. you scowled. a school for 'big kids', they said. they'll treat you like 'adults', they said.
what lies.
after the twenty minutes of the first round was up, he sent you back on the field with your team, but not before borderline threatening you.
"hey — you," he said, once you'd excitedly waved at nobara. you looked up at him, curious. "you better fix up, or else."
"or else what?"
"or else."
you tilted your head when he left it at that, opting to stare at you in some weird method that was made to, no doubt, intimidate you.
"i don't get it. or else what?"
he groaned loudly. "don't make me shout. get on the field and participate."
you definitely did one of the two things: you stepped out on the field and joined your old friend (and your two new friends) and chatted their ears off with enthusiasm. but as for the latter...
you still faced issues with obeying that particular order.
dodgeball just was not fun when you were so strict about it, so instead of lingering at the back like you had previously done, you joined nobara and stood behind her for moral support.
"i want to get that guy out," she told you, and while it may have looked like you were both conversing about plans for the game to an outsider, you knew all too well that it would only be nobara who formed a game plan.
you side-stepped a lousily thrown ball when you spotted something from the corner of your eye.
"look, nobara! that cloud looks like a bum!"
"what — OW!"
distracted by your observation, nobara had averted her gaze from the opposing team for a single second before she found herself clutching her eye, bulging in pain due to the ball that had made contact with it.
you gasped. her hand hovered over her injury. coach yaga yelled at you furiously.
nobara had to sit out for the rest of the round, a bag of frozen peas pressed against her eye as she lazily slouched on the chair. you scolded the attacker, ignoring the way coach yaga scolded you.
"stop shouting at him when it was your fault!"
"okay okay," you scowled, walking backwards without keeping your eyes off of the coach, your back meeting the side of a warm body.
you turned, startled when yuji's pink hair brushed your cheek.
"oh, careful!" he said, helping you stand properly. he looked over your shoulder, flinching when nobara glared at him simply for meeting her gaze. "damn, nobara seems pissed."
"yeah, it's all that guy's fault," you said, pointing at the boy who had thrown the ball at her.
"wasn't it your fault?" said yuji, frowning at you.
your gaze hardened rapidly. whose side was he on? yours, or that random dude that had the ugliest smirk you had ever seen and was the actual reason nobara was benched for this round? you liked yuji, but you were very disappointed with him now.
"i didn't throw the ball at her."
"yeah but you distracted her —"
you screamed, grabbing yuji by his skinny arms and pulling him in front of you to use him as a human shield. he was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre, moving in the exact direction you had intended with no difficulty whatsoever. half a second later, he had let out a pained groan when the incoming ball met his abdomen just below his waist.
coach yaga blew his whistle.
"you poor kid, you're out," he shouted over the cheers of the other team.
yuji looked at you over his shoulder, incensed and desperate. you let go of his arms and released a long breath.
"heh — erm — thanks for your sacrifice, yuji."
"seriously?" he demanded. "that's what you say after you get me out?"
"sorry, it was every man for himself!" you reasoned with a helpless shrug.
"one of us is a man," he grumbled, making his way towards the line of players that were out.
you waved at him, turning around and then stumbling backwards when megumi's neck had been mere inches from your own face.
"oh — porcupine —"
"don't."
"you scared me!"
he glared at you. "stay away from me."
well that wasn't very nice. megumi never ever expressed his love for you or how you were the greatest friend in the world, which you were used to, that had never been a problem. he definitely insulted you here and there (often) but he gave as good as he got. however, never had he ever said something as rude as that with very little context.
you were not impressed.
"that's rude," you stated with a huff.
"you got those two sent out," he said, quick as a flash. "that's rude."
you rolled your eyes at him. "that's not even true," you said, before pushing his shoulder with yours to walk away from him, only to turn back and add something else. "and i don't even want to stay with you anyway."
"good."
"good!"
"oi, the two megumis!" yelled coach yaga.
the two of you simultaneously looked at the coach. megumi grumbled.
"GET ON WITH IT!"
your ex-friend's head turned to face you once more, and you watched as he scowled at you, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring.
"get away from me," he ordered you coldly.
you raised a brow at him, critical and incredulous.
"no," you said, disbelief hanging onto the single syllable. "it's a free country!"
"i was here first," he responded quickly, with all the passion and excuse of a bratty child.
"yeah well guess what porcupine? i don't care."
"you should. you're gonna get me out somehow."
"whatever," you said, before turning to walk away.
but then you hurriedly turned back, wanting to address something very quickly. megumi had already shaped the rest of his body in a competitive stance, knees bent and arms extended. his brows were furrowed, eyeing the opposing team almost menacingly, though he looked more focused and concentrated than he did angry. he barely moved his head to look at you when you spoke again.
"oh, and by the way," you stated, pointer finger raised to emphasise your statement, "i'm only walking away because i want to. not because you told me to, so..."
"i don't care," he'd said, just as you'd turned your back to him for the nth time within a single minute.
but history showed that the two of you always fought for the last word and you would definitely not lose your two-year-long streak over some stupid dodgeball game.
so you spun on the spot again, ignoring the menacing look he'd sent you.
"i don't want to stand next to you anyways. i'll stand next to someone who actually wears the friendship bracelet i give them —"
you walked off (for real this time) just as megumi stood up straight and yelled after you.
"i had to take a shower!"
"for what?" you demanded, choosing to walk backwards this time so you could continue walking and talking. "you come out looking scruffy anyw— look out!"
he barely budged when the ball hit his leg, seemingly accepting his cruel fate. you froze when he sent you the stink eye, sheepishly shrugging when coach yaga's whistle cut through the tense silence.
"megumi number two, you're out!"
megumi stood completely still, shoulders drooped and eyelids heavy. you thought he looked like uncle ogi when he sat in his special arm chair and simply contemplated his life. it would have been funny if not for the harsh circumstances. megumi only looked up to address the coach.
"it's just megumi —"
"okay just megumi — GET OFF THE FIELD!"
and as he did just that, you did not miss the small 'stupid mermaid' he muttered to himself.
the slightest tinge of guilt that slyly crawled its way into your stomach and sat there comfortably like a turtle in its shell had been fought off by your immune system the second you'd heard him curse you with that stupid nickname. you didn't feel bad about the loss of that dumb porcupine from your team. he barely brought anything to the table to begin with: excitement? he had no humour. personality? he was boring. style? look at his hair.
the next ten minutes of the game had you almost pleasantly surprised: the majority of your team found themselves standing in the line of defeated players, simply observing, watching and waiting for some warrior to come in and catch a ball for them (seeing as you certainly would not). it had become so frequent, so consistent that everyone but you would somehow get hit by the ball, that the rest of the game was barely dodgeball — it was a waiting game.
they were waiting on you.
to either pick up the ball and throw it, or catch the next ball flying at you.
you did neither.
and because you'd done neither, all the balls had ended up on your end of the field, meaning that members of the other team had to wait until you decided to throw a few back.
but really, you spent your time apologising to yuji. you had attempted to do so before, but the other team rudely interrupted you by trying to bombard you with multiple balls. now that all of them were on your court, they wouldn't be able to attack you.
"listen yuji," you said, for (probably about) the fifth time, "i am so sorry for using you as a human shield and then saying that it's every man for themselves —"
when you thought that you would not get distracted by the other team, you had forgotten that the biggest distraction of all could enter both courts: coach yaga.
"OI, PICK UP THE BALL, AND THROW IT —"
"— wait, i'm not done yet!" you snapped, throwing the coach a dirty look before softening your expression to address a bored yuji once again. "where was i? oh yeah! i didn't mean to use you as a human shield, i just don't like to be hit by things. so i'm sorry i got you out, okay? and —"
"— YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT —"
"— and!" you continued over the loud voice that belonged to the bear that just so happened to be your coach, "— i regret it so much. i'm sorry, yuji."
"what about me?" said megumi.
you looked at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.
"only friends get apologies," you told him, gaze darting down to his bare wrist before meeting his dark eyes once more. "and it's not even my fault you got out — i didn't tell you to stare at me, did i? anyways, i'm sorry, yuji."
"IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY, YOU'D CATCH A BALL AND GET THAT PINK KID BACK IN THE GAME!"
yuji, who had been silently listening to your honest and true apology, had turned his head to look at the coach with a confused and hurt expression. he looked like a kicked puppy.
"pink ki—" he barely finished his sentence before the pout invaded the previous frown he'd been sporting.
"well i can't catch a ball if they're not throwing any, can i?" you said matter-of-factly.
"ALL THE BALLS ARE ON YOUR COURT, THROW THEM THEN!"
nearly every member of your team nodded and agreed. you thought they were a bunch of sheep but said nothing about it. you rolled your eyes and picked up the balls, walking towards the line that separated the two courts and then simply dropped the balls there.
"what the hell are you — WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT TO THEM?"
you turned, one ball under your pit and the other on your free palm.
"i thought you said you wanted me to give it to them and then catch it!"
"NO, YOU CONFUSED CHILD — I SAID TO THROW THEM!"
you dropped all the balls remaining in your hold and then sighed. "this is too hard — OH MY GOD!"
you'd barely been given the time to adjust to the new rules of the game (that you'd never once heard of) before the players on the other team were throwing the balls you had given them at you.
you scowled after you ducked at a ball aiming for your head.
"hey, i gave those to you!"
"yeah, that's the point," a boy with shoulder length hair responded.
you got used to the constant attacks eventually, so much so that you ended up skipping around your end of the field, immune to the constant background distractions and noise (your classmates and coach yaga shouting, nobara was the only one that seemed careless as to whatever the hell you chose to do with your free will) that it almost felt like a dream. it felt liberating to have an entire field to yourself. the rest of the game had gone really well for you: you spent your time cart-wheeling away from the balls thrown, and if you were feeling particularly cheeky in that minute, you'd also do a front aerial.
but where the game had been going splendidly for you, it had been going very poorly for your poor teammates:
"sir can i just replace her?" megumi volunteered, deadpanned and serious.
coach yaga let out a long sigh, though it sounded like it could also be a growl. "no, kid. that's cheating."
megumi looked up at the tall, buff man and glowered at him. "do rules even apply now? look at her —"
you were now trying to convince the blonde girl on the other team to let you teach her how to do the splits.
coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to scar his own aged skin. he blew the whistle after he spent a few minutes contemplating: he finished the game early, and since it was the final class of the day, you all got to go home early.
the class half hated and half loved you for it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you had to give it to yuji's gramps, the interior design of his house was wonderful. despite being completely deaf, it seemed that the man's lost sense had contributed to his heightened sight, for you could not find a single thing to critique when you'd stepped inside for the first time. it wasn't massive or big like a typical rich person's mansion, it was decent sized and homey, a cosy place that made your insides feel fuzzy and warm like the vibe you got after drinking hot chocolate in front of your fireplace with megumi and the rest of the family growing up.
you, yuji, megumi and nobara hung around at yuji's often. it was easier to get away with things because of the sole fact that his grandfather simply could not hear and made no effort in trying to either.
on one special occasion, the four of you had cycled over to yuji's place straight after school — though megumi and yuji had to take quick showers as they'd been left sweaty and sticky after participating in p.e. you and nobara never did much during those lessons, so the two of you had been completely fine.
"i told you," said yuji, marching over to where you'd been standing by the kitchen to replace the dead flowers in the beige glass, "grandpa hates roses."
"how would you know?" you said, admiring the fresh roses you'd brought over as nobara and megumi threw your backpacks in the designated corner of the living room. "has he ever communicated that to you?"
yuji raised a brow at you. "he's deaf, not mute."
before you could snap back at your pink-haired friend, who had also shot up in height over your time in the sixth grade, megumi had cut through your conversation with a sharp insult.
"you guys sound like idiots," he commented idly. "and yuji's right: he hates roses."
"roses are pretty, what reason does he have to hate them?" said nobara, easily coming to your defence.
over the following months, nobara had warmed up to both boys — yuji and megumi — even if she claimed that she still disliked them very much. her cold exterior towards them had been hard to break, as yuji would constantly mention at any chance he got, but you were glad it did: you couldn't argue with the idiot boys all on your own.
"porcupine, stop siding with the dumb pink kid," you said. stepping away from the roses and making your way down the narrow hall to yuji's bedroom.
"jokes on you, i'm okay with that name now!" he called out from somewhere behind you.
you could hear megumi complaining straight after. "shut up, why are you so loud?"
"you're such a grandpa, megumi," said nobara.
you hummed in agreement, reaching yuji's tall black door at the end of the narrow, dark hallway, twisting the knob and then inviting yourself in. somehow, megumi had overtaken yuji in the walk to his bedroom. you could see the outline of his scruffy hair from his shadow plastered over the wall. once you strutted in, you made an attempt to slam the door in megumi's face, forcing it shut behind you.
he grunted, kicking the door open and then following in straight after you. you had assumed that that would be the end of it, but proven wrong when you felt the heel of megumi's shoe dig into the dip of your knees from behind.
you stacked as a result.
it was embarrassing, but you stood back up just as quickly as you had stacked, spinning around to glare at your stoic friend who simply shrugged and walked off, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking as uncaring as ever.
yuji's bedroom was rather spacious. his walls were a dark shade of blue with a large-screen television attached to the left. he had a single massive window presenting the back garden (which was also not nearly as big as yours or megumi's, though you thought uncle ogi would like the look of it). his bed was rather unique and not out of the ordinary — for someone as spontaneous as yuji, that is.
because he just couldn't have a normal bed like everyone else, yuji had a ceiling bed, something that megumi and nobara had felt was excessive. you did too, for sure (which explained why you spent most of your time up there the first few times you'd come over to his place).
beneath his ceiling bed was his gaming console and a bunch of other cool technological things you played around with from time to time.
the couch at the centre of the room was where the four of you would lounge whenever you'd watch a movie together. it was also routine for you and yuji to argue over the single bean bag that sat just in front of the couch on the floor.
"let's watch a horror movie!" yuji announced as you and nobara flopped onto the couch with all of your limbs spread out.
megumi scowled at the two of you, harshly grabbing nobara's leg and pulling so he could make space. she yelled at him in response, using your hands (which you willingly offered) to pull herself back up and use it as a grip so she could effectively kick at him with her free leg without the risk of falling.
megumi did not like that at all.
"that's cheating."
"i wasn't aware that there were any rules —" she made an attempt to kick him again, "— to this."
"there are when you have the mermaid helping you —"
you threw the spider-man pillow you'd been leaning on at his face and glared at him even when you successfully hit your target.
"yeah, so when you don't look like a porcupine anymore, you stupid sea urchin —" you started, but were rudely interrupted by the enthusiastic voice that was yuji.
throughout all the arguing and chaos, he had been switching through different types of horror movies to watch. you hadn't noticed with the raging hot anger you felt towards megumi.
"insidious chapter three," he read out, comfortably slacking against the squishy bean bag. "yeah, let's watch that!"
nobara, now forcefully pushed to the side as megumi took the odd and foolish initiative to sit on you in order to make you move, loudly verbalised her agreement.
"heard it's super scary though," she said. "let's do it!"
"i —" you began, finding it difficult to speak with megumi's back pressed against your face. you shuffled and pushed at his stubborn body. "i a-agree!"
megumi pushed his weight further into you. you coughed dramatically.
"megumi-you-stupid-cow-i-can't-breathe!"
"good."
"what —" you gasped, harshly breathing in as much air as possible, "what did you eat today — an elephant?"
he only pushed down harder at that.
yuji joyfully clicked on the movie, quickly scrolling down the description and the short list of actors that would be present. you spent the time forcing megumi off of you, only successful after more than twenty tries (you were oddly certain about it) and then claimed your seat by the arm of the long couch. corner seats were your absolute favourite; there was no particular reason why, just that it felt a lot more comfortable than being sandwiched in between two warm bodies — megumi was also very stiff, you and nobara collectively agreed, so if you were to be stuck in between two people, you wished megumi wouldn't be one out of two of them.
with the space you'd been selfishly raiding now free, curtesy of your movement to the very right of the couch, nobara easily slid next to you, linking your arms and shifting in her seat so she could get more comfortable to the new adjustment. megumi, however, stood before the two of you, glancing at the only other corner seat that had been meant for him.
"move," he told nobara, demanding and with the manners of a seagull.
her nose scrunched up with disgust at his tone. "what? no."
"i don't wanna sit in the corner," megumi complained while you played with yuji's hair: his seat on his beanbag was right against your knees.
"yeah well tough," said nobara, lifting your interlinked arms just enough so megumi could see them. "y/n's my friend."
his brows furrowed as if that had been the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, though you knew all too well that couldn't be true, not when megumi had strongly proven his disagreement with hilary smith from the fifth grade when she claimed that the government had everyone put in schools to become robots in the future. that was a core memory you wouldn't forget.
"she was my friend first," he countered, looking as though nobara's point had been extremely pointless.
you laughed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and attempting to look humble.
"guys, guys," you intervened smoothly, "there's enough of me to go around for everyone —"
"yeah guys," yuji added ungraciously, "there's enough of me to go around —"
"nobody's arguing over you," megumi snapped, silencing him momentarily. he opened his mouth to, no doubt, berate him further when you had cut across him, gazing down at yuji with a scowl.
"what are you yapping about?" you asked your pink-haired friend, relishing in the hiss he'd let out when you pulled at his hair, a look of confusion and disbelief on your face. "just do what you do best and find us a movie. you're embarrassing me."
megumi seemed to have given up on the topic entirely, sitting in the only free space and frowning as he did so.
"i did!" yuji argued back, slapping your hand away from his hair and rubbing his scalp with a frown you could not see.
"no you didn't," said megumi, eyeing the tv screen critically. "why are we watching insidious chapter three before we've even watched chapters one and two?"
"because we can, porcupine, stop complaining," you answered swiftly.
"it's dumb," he said impatiently.
nobara sighed irritably. "yuji, just ignore him and put it on."
"already on it!"
but megumi hadn't quite finished his speech:
"that's like watching the fifth harry potter movie without the first," he said, afraid that if he rolled his eyes once more at your stupidity, they'd be stuck to the back of his head for good. "who does that?"
"um — like — everyone?" you replied, encouraging nobara to hit megumi for you. it was difficult to reach him when the two of you were on two different ends of the couch.
he stared at you, dumbfounded with your stubborn response. "what planet are you living on?"
you grinned. "actually, megumi, the only live-able planet that humans can live on is earth so it's not real if i said mars or something," you told him matter-of-factly, and then looked at both nobara and yuji for certainty, your voice low. "...right, guys? i'm right aren't i?"
both of them nodded:
"yeah i think so..."
"yeah..."
"live-able's not a word."
the three of you stared at him wordlessly.
"that's what you got out of that?" you said, voicing all three of your thoughts and cutting through the tense silence.
megumi ignored you, looking back at the tv screen with disdain.
"you guys are stupid, we won't understand anything happening if we skip the first two movies."
"we'll be fine," said yuji, standing up and stretching as he walked over to his mini-fridge beside his console. he looked over his shoulder as he called out to the three of you. "sprite or dr pepper?"
"sprite!"
"dr pepper!"
"water."
...
"you're so boring, porcupine!"
"yeah, who chugs a water during a horror movie?"
"i mean i have a bottle here but i didn't think anyone would actually want it —"
"shut up. all of you. yeah you too, mermaid."
you barely took the time to actually acknowledge what he was saying, barely took the time to realise that he had called you a mermaid, but it didn't matter anyway. whatever his response would be, polite or not, there was no other response you'd give than one that would insult your grumpy friend.
"i'm half convinced that you're really yuji's gramps."
yuji had come around and handed you your requested drinks with a laugh. he flopped down on his beanbag and lifted the remote with his spare hand to click on the triangle to finally play the movie.
"why am i friends with you guys?" megumi sighed, a tick in his jaw as he glared at the tv screen.
"don't be rude," said nobara, and the hiss that megumi had let out during her loud exclamation told you that she must have pinched him too.
"no nobara, this is development!" you clapped excitedly, the intro of the movie playing before the four of you. "it took him years to admit we were friends!"
megumi extended his arm over the back of the couch to tug at your hair. "i never said —"
"— he said it by accident too."
"i don't like this conversation."
nobara nudged your side and used her foot to do the same to yuji.
"he doesn't like the movie, he doesn't like the conversation. what do you like, huh?"
yuji, who had been blissfully unaware of the verbal battle going on behind him, looked over his shoulder and grinned at you. even in the dim lighting, and the flashes of light in curtesy of the film playing before you all, you could see the mischief underlining his toothy grin.
the both of you answered nobara's question at the same time:
"hana."
three out of four of you burst out laughing, struggling to breathe as megumi rested his chin on his left palm and glared intensely at the poor football plushie on the floor of yuji's room. he angrily shoved off nobara's fingers that had curled around his bicep, grumbling to himself as he did so.
"his fated one," you continued, chortling as yuji threw his head back against your knees.
hana was a girl that the four of you had met during your first few social studies classes at the beginning of the academic year. she had been lurking around the four of you for a little while, it seemed odd how she'd also sit on the table in the cafeteria right besides yours and simply stare. she clearly did not seem to mind that she had been caught (except the first three times it happened, and then after that, she'd had no shame).
after a lengthy discussion, one of which came to all sorts of theories, the most meaningful one being that hana was an undercover serial killer out for you all because of the fact that you had literally accused her of it when you'd had enough of being jump-scared by her mere existence, you found out that she was not a serial killer, she did not want to kill you, and she liked megumi fushiguro romantically.
it took a while for it to sink in:
she liked megumi fushiguro.
romantically.
and she was not shy about it at all, announcing that megumi was her 'fated' one in front of the entire class, being the first to offer herself up as a partner to him in paired work, and so much more. your favourite was when she'd introduced herself as 'hana fushiguro'.
but while megumi had disliked this very much, the rest of your little friendship circle revelled in it, wringing it out like orange in juicer.
there had been one golden opportunity that you used to push megumi and hana together. the task had been to create a poster of knowledge about the certain subtopic the class had been studying for the semester. in pairs.
yuji demanded that you be partnered up with him and you nearly obliged, but when you caught sight of a blonde haired, ditzy girl making her way towards an oblivious megumi, you stopped short of yourself and pushed yuji away from you.
"get away from me, pinkie pie," you said, ignoring yuji's 'rude!', waiting and watching as megumi strode towards you with a fierce look in his eyes. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeks as they slowly turned pink with embarrassment.
you shook your head at him, silently communicating that you would not be his partner even if it meant that you got paired up with malakai, the class emo who always claimed that the 'darkness was consuming' him (and also visibly glitches when he does not get called by his short name - kai).
"y/n," said megumi, and you even dared to believe that he was almost at the point of begging. however, after being friends with the poor boy, you were well aware of his pesky stubborn nature.
still, that had not stopped you from being hopeful.
"maybe if you got on your knees and begged," you started cheekily.
megumi gawked at you, in megumi-fashion, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.
"you sadist."
"actually, i'm a masochist."
"..."
"..."
"that's not what it means —"
"anyways, my partner's nobara so..." you told him honestly, and the dark-haired girl had supported you as you leaned against her table she'd been seated at. "don't leave hana waiting."
megumi sighed irritably, then turned around to lock eyes with yuji, but the traitor had spun away with a too-loud laugh and babbled about how the darkness was actually very amusing as he seated himself next to malakai. megumi's eye twitched. nobody ever partnered up with malakai. it said a lot about how determined his foolish friends were.
and as if his day could not have gotten worse, miss haqq, the teacher, had finally spoken.
"megumi, why are we not partnered up, huh?" she asked, though not unkindly. "who's your partner?"
"y/n's my partner —"
you slammed your hand on the table you'd been leaning on, nobara barely flinched, and then stood up properly.
"lies!" you stated, angrily staring at your unsurprised teacher.
she let out a small breath. "y/n we're not in theatre class right now. and megumi?"
megumi shrugged, glancing at you. you bristled.
"miss he's lying," you said honestly, facing him again to stare at him critically. "who taught you to do that?"
"you," said megumi, as though it were a question even a year old baby could answer.
you stared at him, his answer recycling itself in your mind over and over again, making you become well aware of the comical silence the classroom had been left in.
"well..." you began, unsure of where you were planning on going with this, "you just... admitted... to lying... so..."
"right, megumi, find someone who's freeeee," miss haqq interrupted swiftly, extending the final letter of her sentence in an almost sing-song voice as her eyes darted left and right around the classroom before they stopped short of someone behind him. megumi wanted to die. "ah, hana's not got a partner. there you go, i knew my counting wasn't wrong."
but it hadn't ended there. megumi had, with extremely low spirits, seated himself next to the blonde girl and tried his hardest on discussing merely work-related things, all while praying that her insistent staring and odd statements would cease to exist sooner rather than later. but the universe didn't seem to be on his side. not when she first confessed to him, and certainly not now.
"y'know," hana began, in that low voice of hers she always used when talking to him specifically, "you have really nice eyes."
megumi continued to write on their large a4 sheet. "thanks," he'd said, uncomfortable. "my dad gave them."
you and nobara had been sitting in front of him, respectively working on your own poster when you overheard the awkward conversation taking place behind you. after exchanging a look of amusement with nobara, you turned in your seat to speak to hana seriously.
"i usually fight the toji... he's your father-in-law by the way."
you turned back around before megumi could spew out any nonsense about you. nobara had been gripping onto your lower arm the entire time, trying not to giggle.
you hadn't seen it, but hana beamed at the distraught boy sitting next to her, eyes radiant and bright.
"i know your dad's name now," said hana thoughtfully, and you couldn't help but think that toji would not be happy about that, but she didn't have to know that, did she? she continued to speak as though she was sitting on cloud nine itself. "it's good, i'll be more familiar with him. this must be a sign, your own friend knows... we're fated to be together."
you pinched nobara's thigh, though not had enough to bruise or hurt her. she took your signal with a small nod and leaned over the head of her chair to address the dazed girl behind her. megumi continued to glare.
"y'know it's funny," said nobara, a weird tone to her voice that megumi did not like very much, "'cause just the other day, megumi told me that fate brought you guys together."
hurriedly, nobara returned back to your a4 sheet and began working as though she hadn't just crafted megumi's doom. the two of you quietly laughed together, though it wasn't very discreet. megumi's head ached with every simultaneous shake of your shoulders.
hana was very pleased at nobara's comment, perhaps even more pleased than what you had told her prior to that. she glanced at megumi expectantly. he sighed, his grip on his pencil tightening, showcasing his blue veins.
"look —" he began, but hana had moved her chair closer to his, the loud screech of the legs of her chair against the floor momentarily leaving him deaf.
"i mean... i said the same thing before, but i never said it to you, so you couldn't have known —"
"actually you said it very loudly," interrupted megumi, trying not to sound unkind, though it wasn't very easy when everyone around him told him that he was naturally rude. "and also i never said that."
hana did not break eye contact with him as she sighed, her cheek resting against her palm lazily. megumi felt something weird simmer in his stomach. was that guilt?
it couldn't be: he had kindly rejected hana's advances countless times. it was starting to irk him now. he was only twelve, what did he know about crushes and romance? and it certainly didn't help that the three idiots that were his friends always pushed the notion that he also felt something for hana. he could not express the thought enough: he did not like hana.
"i'm sorry," he said, when it became clear that she would simply sit in silence and watch him carefully. "i don't feel the same way."
but hana merely hummed in what seemed like content. megumi was used to it. she had this thing where any rejection to her advances would go in through one ear and out through the other. so why did he still feel the slightest bit of guilt circling around his tummy?
"well," she began slowly, palm raised up as she gestured over to the two girls sitting in front of her (you and nobara), "that's two out of three of your friends that think we're good together. i just need one more for confirmation —"
"yeah i wouldn't count on it," megumi interrupted swiftly, his eyes slowly travelling over to the darkest corner of the room where yuji had been forced to sit in in order to accommodate malakai's needs. the emo didn't like sitting in the light, apparently.
but he instantly regretted his choice of movement, for yuji had caught his eye, and megumi did not like the way it gleamed with mischief. he regrettably watched as yuji stood up, addressing malakai before doing whatever the hell he planned on doing, no doubt something to do with megumi and hana.
"all right mal— i mean kai," stammered yuji, wary of uttering his full name by accident. the whole point of his speech was to make the emo feel at ease with yuji's disappearance, not to draw more attention to it. "i got something to do, so i'll be back, all right?" he explained with a grin. "the darkness around here isn't really vibing with me anyway —"
"no."
yuji's wrist had been caught by a hand colder than his mini-fridge when he'd attempted to leave. he flinched, looking down at malakai who was gripping onto him for dear life, snarling. if discomfort was an image, it'd be this very sight for yuji.
"you must not leave," said malakai, creating the very scene yuji had been desperate to avoid.
"dude, let go of me," he started, pulling at his arm to free himself of malakai's grip, but it was iron tight, cold, and incredibly strong. "dude —"
"yuji itadori," stated malakai, and yuji felt an icy shiver run down his spine. no one had ever uttered his name with such spleen. it scared him.
but before yuji could do anything else, malakai had bared his teeth at him and hissed. yuji stumbled back, visibly and audibly frightened, making a harsher attempt at getting away from his partner, an attempt that included knocking the entire table down and pushing his chair back to run.
everyone's heads had turned to the back of the classroom.
yuji scowled as malakai made an attempt to hide under the fallen table. the emo did not like attention. how ironic when he behaved like that.
"well now there's no point in moving," the pink-haired boy sighed, grimacing at the emo's weird actions. "i can just say it from here: hey hana!"
she perked up. megumi did not miss the wink she sent him. now looking at malakai's need to isolate himself from everyone, megumi thought a deep part of him understood it. not that he'd ever communicate that to anyone, and certainly not you.
"megumi told me in the locker rooms that your — er — your light basically — er — con— contradicts! — yeah that's the word — his darkness!"
"you mean 'contrasts'," said megumi, scowling.
as all eyes turned to him, particularly the pressing ones belonging to hana, megumi recoiled, ignoring your praise to yuji at catching him out.
"i never said that by the way," he quickly assured hana, but she seemed to be in her own world.
"really?" you added cheekily, "because you knew exactly what yuji meant."
"shut up, mermaid."
"now that's out of line!" you snapped, standing up and pointing a particularly sharp pencil at megumi.
"stop, y/n," said nobara, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts as you averted your gaze over to her and slowly dropped your arm back to your side. she was right. perhaps a physical argument wasn't exactly wise. but nobara wasn't finished; she held up her scissors. "use this instead!"
you threw the pencil over your shoulder, uncaring of where it landed and joyfully took the sharp pair of scissors nobara had offered you.
megumi shook his head, snapping himself out of his own thoughts and angrily pointing at the movie playing in front of you all, his other hand fiddling with his water bottle just to have something to do with it, feeling hot and bothered.
"can we watch the movie?" he voiced, visibly annoyed.
the three of you decided that your joint discussion about megumi and hana would be put to an end seeing as you made your poor friend go through enough torment for a day. but while megumi assumed that distracting everyone from the topic at hand would be beneficial for himself, to give himself some peace and quiet and free of any and all annoyances, he found that this simply amplified the chatter out of you.
megumi had been correct, which wasn't a surprise at all.
watching the third movie before watching the first two created a lot of confusion, that of which couldn't have been kept inside you. annoyingly enough, you just had to voice it encouraging yuji and nobara to engage with you too:
"hey, who's that guy?" you thought aloud.
"that's her dad, i think," answered nobara thoughtfully. "i think his name is alex."
"no, alex is her brother," said yuji, pointing at the screen. "her dad's name is quinn."
"no it's not!"
"yes it is! isn't it, y/n?"
"no, the dad's name is elise," you said, matter-of-factly.
megumi inwardly groaned. "elise is a girl name. that's not her dad."
"okay, so explain why your name is megumi then?" you shot back at him, accusatory.
he grumbled something under his breath. you took that as a win. but it didn't end there.
not only were the characters confusing to the three of you, the story was too:
"what the hell is the man who can't breathe?" you voiced, curious and also simultaneously angry. "why won't they tell us what happened to him? how the hell are we supposed to know?"
"right?" agreed yuji loudly. "and why's he wearing an oxygen mask?"
"clearly he doesn't know style," tutted nobara, before leaning further more into your side. "why is the demon after them specifically?"
"yeah, what the hell is that about?"
"i have no idea what's going on here."
you perked up brightly. "actually, i do."
yuji turned around and beamed, though you could see the slightly frightened look in his eyes.
"you do?" he asked, hopeful.
you nodded and went off on a tangent explaining the story:
"yeah, so, basically that girl that was on the screen like a few seconds ago — i forgot her name —"
"oh you mean elise?" said nobara.
"no, not her —"
"quinn?" said yuji.
you clicked your fingers at him and nodded. "yeah! yeah, her — so she's looking to find out why the demon killed her in another life, but like, the guy — her dad, right — he's trying to stop her because he knows it'll break her. and you know dave?"
you waited expectantly. yuji and nobara shrugged.
"i don't remember a dave," your pink-haired friend commented, scratching his head while he spoke.
nobara voiced her agreement:
"yeah, i must've missed him."
"well anyways! dave is secretly the demon, so..."
yuji stared at you before looking away and nodding slowly as if he were piecing the entire plot in his head together. nobara pulled out her phone, unlocking it and muttering.
"i think we should fact-check it —"
"no don't fact-check it," you said quickly.
"idiots," grumbled megumi.
the movie progressed, just as your confusion did too.
"why did that guy beg for elise's help again?" said yuji, but only after chugging a large amount of his dr pepper, burping ungracefully after.
"ew, have some shame," snapped nobara, kicking yuji's side and relishing in the yelp he let out. "but yeah, why did that guy beg for elise's help again?"
you shrugged. "i don't know guys, let's ask megumi."
"yeah that's a good idea —"
"oh yeah, megumi —"
"don't ask megumi."
the three of you stared at him. megumi frowned.
"i don't know who said that."
"cut the crap, porcupine," you said, rolling your eyes. he looked away, guilty. "we all know it was the red-faced demon —"
he stared at you once again, deadpanned. "sure."
you ignored him. "anyways, why's the demon after their family, megumi?"
before megumi could answer, yuji cut in:
"it's getting a little scary, y'know... hey megumi, how did elise become a ghost?"
"i —"
nobara poked megumi's side. "hey, did elise kill josh or something? i don't get it."
"that's not —"
"porcupine why's quinn trying to contact her mom? why can't she just call her instead of doing rituals? ... porcupine? porcupine!"
megumi had left the couch to stand by the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to the movie.
"mom, can you pick me up?"
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2015-2016 seventh grade
megumi had been off. distant. unavailable, in a way.
it didn't seem like an issue to everyone else, but you could see it in the way he zoned out off conversations, found interest in next-to-nothing, and not even malakai's advances to nobara made him flinch. to an outsider, it would've seemed like megumi on a bad day (when he was acting grumpier than usual). to you, it seemed like something different and foreign was on his mind.
you didn't press him for information, not when he'd given you a short goodbye just before home-time, acting as though the two of you couldn't have walked together like normal seeing as you lived opposite one another, and not even when he'd seemed extra quiet during the last friday night dinner at satoru's.
he was always a quiet kid, sure, but something was missing, and though you couldn't quite put a finger on it, you knew you weren't overreacting.
in fact, even yuji and nobara agreed with you. apparently, during the training for the school's next football game, megumi had been completely out of it that he had to be benched for the rest of the game — according to yuji.
at the moment, the two of you were sitting together for homeroom. the day had just about started, and though you had been forced to sit at the very front, right across the teacher's desk (apparently you couldn't be trusted to sit elsewhere) you disobediently sat right next to megumi at the back of the classroom, ignoring his look of confusion, the most emotion he'd shown within the past week.
"what're you doing?"
"shut up, porcupine," you hissed, slumping in your seat so you wouldn't get caught. "you'll draw attention!"
"you'll get in trouble," he said blankly.
you grinned lazily. "that's what you said about... eight or nine years ago when i sat next to you in kindergarten, remember?"
megumi seemed almost dazed, as though he were in a dream. he'd been displaying odd emotions for the last week, but you'd never seen him so pliable like now, eyes focused yet unfocused, drawn to you and only you as if everybody else didn't exist. was it something you said? was it something you'd done?
you didn't know how to go about it, so you merely laughed, just as megumi answered your question.
"yeah," he said, frowning slightly.
"and then you weren't just wrong," you continued carelessly. "you were so, so wrong, that we even ended up becoming best friends! you didn't see that coming, did you?"
megumi stared at you. you were too busy wondering why nobara had allowed malakai into the seat next to her, though perhaps she hadn't actually allowed him. it explained why she was voicing to him an array of all types of colourful threats.
you glanced back at megumi, noticing his dark pupils following every movement of yours. you laughed.
"megumi stop staring at me," you chortled, covering your face and finding it difficult to speak and laugh at the same time. your stomach hurt as a result. "stop why do you look possessed! ... okay megumi it's not funny anymore, you're scaring me."
you frowned when he rolled his eyes at you. at least some part of him was still alive. you had an idea to bring back every part of him, even more so when his gaze landed on you once more, his poker-face falling slowly. he almost looked upset.
"so i came to a revelation yesterday," you told him, smiling. "i think the earth's flat."
you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, expecting a major reaction, expecting a number of colourful insults, expecting him, megumi.
all you got was the silence that had been radiating off of him for the entire week. at least you knew for sure that you weren't imagining things: your friend was dealing with something so big, it distracted him from your outrageous declaration.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
the walk home wasn't exactly pleasant either. you did most of the talking, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but before all of this unknown drama circulating with megumi, he had the decency to give his input here and there. now, however, it was simply as though you were talking to a brick wall, barely any response to your comments. if you were lucky enough, you'd receive a small grunt or a nod of acknowledgement. but it was fruitless, essentially.
it was almost boring.
you were never bored with megumi. ever.
you had no idea what had him so occupied, but your attempts at conversation had become so dry, you opted to remain silent the rest of the way, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you gazed at the houses you passed by, internally questioning and critiquing the exterior design, knowing that mentioning it aloud to megumi would be less exciting than in your head.
the two of you had made it past the traffic lights by this point, now entering the calm scenery that was your neighbourhood. the roads were empty, only occasionally did a few cars make their way through. the sun had only just started to set, still high in the sky, but vibrant enough to blind you with its soft, orange glow. as the two of you reached the end of the road and turned left to where your houses would be after another few minutes of walking, you spotted one of the houses that had been newly sold to a family of four. it seemed that their moving in process was still ongoing, for the van that carried all their boxes was still parked in front of the house.
you had half a mind to go over and introduce yourselves, find some excitement in forcing megumi to do some socialising with you and relishing in the little scowl he'd sport that nobody but you would be able to notice, but megumi had turned and walked the opposite way before you could say anything.
"let's go this way," was all he'd said, knowing you'd follow him questioningly.
and follow him questioningly you did, turning around and demanding answers for why he insisted on taking the long way home instead of the time-efficient way. it was unlike him. but you'd noticed, within this entire week, megumi hadn't really been himself, had he?
the very last thing you wanted to do was pressure him into telling you what parasite he had become victim to. yet, you had no idea how to approach such a serious topic. the two of you had never tested such waters before. everything you'd been through together had been comical, humorous, never once drowning in the sea of weighty situations.
you just weren't made for it (even if megumi looked the part).
"at least carry me if you're gonna make me walk the long way home," you complained loudly.
megumi didn't respond. you watched him with furrowed brows before giving up the amusing act altogether and sighed loudly.
"what's going on?" you asked him, extending an arm to grab at his and half his movements.
the streets were void of any pressing ears. he had no excuse hiding whatever it was for longer.
megumi didn't shrug you off like you expected him to. instead, he stared at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed.
"you're being weird," you added, when it became quite clear that he wouldn't respond. your hand fell limp at your side again. "i don't like it."
to your surprise, instead of walking off without a second thought, he shrugged. "don't know what you're talking about."
"don't play dumb with me," you said firmly. "yuji told me you got benched."
megumi's brow twitched. he didn't look too pleased about you knowing, it seemed. you felt like you were walking on eggshells. you hated it.
"fine," you said gently, though your expression remained fierce. "don't tell me. but i —"
you let out a small breath, finding difficulty in searching for the right words to use. you were angry at yourself, but also at the education system. schools should focus on training kids on how to approach situations like these, for you'd never felt so clueless in your life.
"i'm — i'm always here," you struggled to spit out, "if you want to talk."
megumi stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. of course, it was the usual monotonous look, the standard half-lidded eyes and small scowl, jaw tense which would have made an outsider assume he was angry. but you knew better. even with that odd mask, there was always something lingering behind it: that was his happy face as well as his sad, angry, confused, shocked face.
with that list came a new addition, the one displayed shamelessly before you, though you couldn't quite place what it was. though as much as you wanted to discover this nameless emotion, time was cruel, and megumi had already cut it short by choosing to walk the long way home.
you took a small step back.
"okay now laugh," you said hurriedly.
megumi recoiled. "huh?"
"laugh," you repeated, unrelenting. "this is so weird so i need you to laugh."
he raised a sharp brow at you. "look who you're talking to."
you slapped your hand against your forehead in shock. "you're right!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began the long trek back to your houses. "if you laugh, the earth would turn upside down!"
"that's not possible."
the walk home had been a lot more pleasant than the ones you'd experienced with him the last four days.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
the sky resembled a painting you'd seen a few years back when you took a trip to the art museum with uncle ogi and your mom: it was dark, very dark, but the sparkles dotted around each cloud illuminated the night sky, brightening it enough for you to examine it better than one who stared at a sky with no stars whatsoever. you'd heard that apparently in some countries, the pollution was so bad to the point where the stars weren't even the slightest bit visible; you couldn't imagine that. what was a sky with no stars? what was a day with no sun? what was a night with no moon?
what were you without megumi?
no, really, where the hell was he? he said he'd meet you up on his rooftop in a few, but you'd been idly watching the clouds move above your head for a good ten minutes. as beautiful as it was, it wasn't much of an experience without your grump of a friend himself.
content with watching the stars alone, megumi had finally decided to show himself, climbing up from the ladder attached to the roof of the house and pulling himself up through the ceiling window to meet you. he crawled his way over, explaining his absence.
"dad needed me to hide the broken vase from mom."
your brows knitted themselves together. "the china one?"
"yeah," he nodded, sitting next to you and hanging his elbows off of his bent knees. "i didn't help him."
"i didn't think you would," you admitted with a laugh. "wasn't it the fonthill dragon jar? the one sold for twelve milli—"
"— million dollars?" he finished off bitterly. "yeah, that's why i didn't help him."
you hummed, leaning towards him slightly to speak in hushed tones for fear of any eavesdroppers that might run off to megumi's mother and snitch.
"it wasn't a very pretty vase, though —"
"just say it's ugly —"
"— yeah it's ugly."
it was quiet then, quiet enough that if one paid close attention to the scene, the sounds of crickets may be heard. it wasn't a chilly night, hence the lack of thick sweaters on both you and megumi, but you didn't feel as warm as one would have expected. you'd been feeling this way for the past week. whatever megumi had been actively hiding from you had caused a small rift, one you weren't very fond of.
you watched him carefully out of your peripheral vision. he seemed less tense, less angry. his shoulders had drooped, as if a bunch of weights that had been accumulating on them had dropped significantly. megumi's jaw had remained tight the entire week, yet as you stared at the line leading up to his chin and mouth, you noticed how relaxed it seemed. in turn, your jaw loosened, the distance between you and him closing. perhaps whatever your friend was going through was now long forgotten, long over.
"i'm gonna tell mom about the vase," he said, breaking the tense silence as the two of you gazed up at the stars blinking down at you. the moon was full tonight.
"i expected nothing less," you replied, chuckling.
"and the earth isn't flat, dummy."
you could feel his eyes burning holes on your right cheek. you repressed the urge to burst out laughing.
at least you knew for certain, now, that megumi was okay. his consistent need to be right finally returning after its long hiatus, and though it had been extremely annoying over the last eight years, you found it rather endearing too (you'd take a bullet before admitting it to him). megumi wasn't megumi without his unshakeable personality.
"so you were listening to me after all," you stated, averting you gaze from the captivating the stars to the moon sitting next to you.
he blinked at you, bemused.
"i always listen."
and for the rest of that night, you couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever megumi had been hiding, it had something to do with you.
you were glad it was in the past now.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2016-2017 eighth grade
mr andersen's homework had been left untouched on your desk for about two weeks (despite being given an extension because he was well aware just how bad at math you were). you were tired, exhausted, and drained: middle school was no joke. it was times like these — where some random dude decided that adding letters to the already-difficult math equations — that you felt like taking a knife and driving it clean through your heart.
you got up, a lightbulb hovering just above your head as you beamed, scrambling to take your phone out of charge and scrolling through your contact list.
— go-go-go-joe! (27 missed calls)
— nobara <3
— yuji :) (1 missed call)
— mother
— porcupine 👺
there he was — porcupine — you clicked his number and pressed the phone to your ear, lying flat on your bed once again. it dialled for all of five seconds before you heard his grumpy voice on the other end of the line:
"what do you want?"
you sighed, putting on your theatre skills to show.
"megumi..." you groaned weakly, following that with a fake cough.
"..."
you coughed again. "megumi — ahem — i'm sick."
"sucks to be you."
you repressed the desire to start yelling at him, cursing him out due to his lack of empathy. it doesn't matter whether you were faking an illness or not — as a friend, megumi was supposed to offer help, advice, ask whether you were doing well or not. you remembered a time where his mom had to take him to therapy, concerned about his lack of feeling. it was a funny day, that was.
you tried again, coughing twice more this time.
"i think i have a — *cough* — a fever," you said, trying your best to sound as physically weak as possible. you got up, gently swiping your hair away from your face as you slowly made your way to the window. " *cough* — i can't do a-any homework today..."
"that so?" said megumi.
you nodded, almost forgetting that he couldn't see you. you draped one of your arms over your waist, the other hand still pressing your phone to your ear.
it had rained a little while ago, puddles forming by the sidewalk. the grass looked damp yet very shiny and silky beneath the weak light protruding from the sun, its very presence hiding behind the prominent clouds, thick as cotton candy.
"i just — i can't get out of bed right now — *cough* — megumi."
"yeah, must be difficult."
your lip curled. "yes! — i mean — *cough* — yes... i'm so glad you understand."
megumi responded almost immediately. such a good friend, you thought. you almost felt bad for deceiving him, but it just had to be done. perhaps if you had megumi's brains for math, none of this would be happening. so in a way, it was all his fault.
yeah, that made sense. he brought this upon himself.
"you probably can't stand up straight either," he said, and you almost let out a chuckle.
"mhm — it's so — *cough* — ugh, i hate this." you decided it was time to cage the dog. "i was thinking... erm... *cough, cough* ... maybe you could do my homework — *cough* — like last time? i'm really, really sick."
"yeah, sick to the point where you can't get out of bed —"
"yes, megumi! see — *cough* — see i knew you'd understand... you're such a great friend!"
absentmindedly, you fiddled with the fabric of your beige curtains.
"maybe you should look outside to help you feel better," he suggested.
you grinned, looking up without realising it.
"that's a good ide—"
you stopped short of yourself, met with the sight of megumi staring right through your soul from his own bedroom window. lo and behold, one of the disadvantages of living right across from your best friend.
you froze.
"you should probably use your mermaid powers and heal yourself —"
"that's not how it works!" you snapped, furious.
you stumbled, your hands immediately grabbing the curtains and circling yourself with it, hiding yourself from view. and before he could embarrass you any further (because he absolutely would, that was megumi fushiguro), you hung up, heart returning to its usual pace and eyes wide with shock.
you hurriedly unravelled yourself from the curtains and shut them closed, walking off in annoyance.
"creep," you muttered under your breath.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
fear choked you as you gasped for breath, your lungs constricting in on itself, the back of your knees burning with each stride. with every step, the voice in the back of your head encouraged you to continue, reminding you that you had to keep it up; you only countered back with the question of whether it was all worth it or not. it certainly hadn't seemed like it, with the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your warm skin and your palms growing increasingly sweaty.
running had never been an issue for you. you quite liked it when you were a kid, enjoying such activities like playing tag or red-light-green-light or chasing megumi (that one was, perhaps, your most favourite of them all, despite megumi's disdain).
now, however, as you ran for your life, you hated every bit of it. you hated the way the air slapped at your face in your hasty strides, you hated the way the adrenaline ran beneath your skin with excitement you couldn't quite understand, and you hated the way you could barely breathe, as if a block of wood had been lodged into your throat. you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way. coach yaga had made you run laps before, but none of them were as painful as this.
and it was all satoru's fault, which no one had let him forget the entire marathon towards the airport.
"why on earth did you suggest taking a shortcut here if you were already on time?" demanded uncle ogi, the lines on his forehead becoming more and more prominent as everyone dragged their bags and belongings with them.
you'd finally entered the building after what felt like ten long and dawdling years. the summer heat had already made you feel faint and uncomfortable, and the marathon everyone had been collectively (forcefully) participating in had only made it a hundred times worse. the sticky feeling beneath your pits and arms felt like you'd just emerged from out of a pool of your own seat. your shirt stuck to your skin like glue.
megumi's dad spoke up angrily.
"he's an idiot, that's why."
you couldn't help but think that he barely looked fazed by the constant running. he only seemed to care about the lack of time everyone had to get to the airport on time.
but uncle ogi did not seem to find that a valid reason, abruptly turning to look at him with visible frustration.
"and why the hell did you fools follow him?"
maki, who was running silently in front of both you and megumi, had reached up and pulled at her father's ponytail. his head had practically snapped backwards to glare down at her.
surprised (and pleasantly amused), you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to not only breathe, but use that breather to let out a loud laugh. megumi was not pleased by this at all; his hand that had been clasping yours for the entirety of the adventure had tightened harshly, pulling at you to snap you out of your reverie.
"stop," he said, looking dishevelled as the two of you fell straight back into your routine and sped past several strangers behind the rest of your family.
"i did," you responded cheekily, complying with each pull and tug of megumi's hand.
despite all the noise ringing in your ears, the chatter of the public the and cries of several babies, you could still hear maki's harsh voice cut through the air.
"stop fussing," she snapped. "you don't have to be here, y'know."
the lines on uncle ogi's forehead disappeared to accentuate the crease newly-formed between his brows as he glared down at her. oddly enough, you thought he seemed to be faring well with all the running, despite his old age.
"i'm the driver, smart ass!" he shot back, silencing maki as she rolled her eyes at him.
he wasn't lying: all of you had travelled in two separate cars to arrive at the airport. in your mom's car, your mom, satoru, toji, megumi's mom, tsumiki (toji's goddaughter), you and megumi had been in. in uncle ogi's car, uncle ogi, maki, mai, suguru, and mimiko and nanako (suguru's adopted daughters).
satoru had messed around with the gps in the passenger seat at some point, insisting that he knew a shortcut with such confidence, your mom had been too lazy to care about the way he'd toggled with it, brows furrowed with the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his smooth lips. uncle ogi had been following your mom's car, so collectively, everyone ended up being late.
uncle ogi wasn't done there though, his gaze hardening even further before he added his final comment. "and what did i say about pulling my hair?"
maki turned to you and scowled when you kept the smile plastered over your face.
"you wait till we get home —"
"ogi stop threatening maki!" megumi's mom called out from ahead, her voice faint yet every bit demanding.
your legs had long since given up on their own. each movement they made only felt like someone had sent multiple bullets to drive themselves into you, tiring you out and evoking so much pain from you. you couldn't go on any longer, not with the feeling of your shirt practically suffocating you amongst the heat of the crowded airport. you ached to feel some cool air brush against your warm skin, however, the longer you continued to run, the less likely that would ever happen.
you raised your head slightly, chest heaving as you eyed the muscled back belonging to none other than toji himself. your left hand, feeling too warm in megumi's, had been released from its gentle shackles when megumi immediately stepped away from you, almost as if he practically sensed the exact thought you had in mind. you didn't complain, bending your knees (ignoring the momentary burning sensation it brought you) and jumping up, arms gripping onto toji's broad shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunting and struggling as you adjusted your hold on him.
"that's better," you sighed, grip iron-like as he shook himself in a failed attempt to throw you off. to someone watching from afar, they probably thought he looked like a dog.
"get off me, gremlin —"
"it wouldn't kill you to hold her for a bit," said megumi's mom, and that in itself was enough to silence toji. he begrudgingly jogged with you on his back, making no attempt to hold onto your legs as he dragged his — and his wife's — suitcases along.
your mom looked back, no longer running and now confused at the statement before seeing your face hidden in the tall man's shoulders. she sighed.
"y/n, get off of—" she began, before turning away and catching up to suguru, who was running beside his best friend whilst carrying nanako and mimiko, each girl under each arm. "ugh, i tried to care."
jumping onto toji's hard back was probably the best idea you came up with all day. looking down at everyone made you feel superior. the fact that you no longer needed to run along with everyone made you feel superior. the burning at the back of your knees had started to dim, and simultaneously, your heart beat had slowly started to return back down to its normal pace. however, now there was a slight strain in your arms, curtesy of toji being completely unhelpful in keeping you propped up on him, forcing you to hold onto him with all your might. though you'd still argue that this was far better than all that dreadful and tiring running.
you surveyed everything else around you, watching it all pass by in a blur: you could barely tell that the blue waiting seats were, indeed, blue waiting seats with how fast toji seemed to be sprinting. once at the back of the group, now you were nearly at the front, and through it all, megumi still seemed to be at your side, considerably shorter than you were used to.
you laughed, kicking his side with your foot.
"i'm taller than you now, porcupine!"
you couldn't tell whether he was scowling or not, but you'd bet your life that he was.
"normalcy has been restored," you sighed dreamily.
"hey, which gate?" asked megumi's mom, her hands bare and empty since her husband silently offered to carry her things. that was before this entire predicament. you imagined that he definitely regretted that now.
you couldn't see satoru's face, only met with the sight of the back of his head, but you heard him well nonetheless.
"terminal four," he'd answered, and even suguru stared at him in bewilderment.
"yeah, we know that," said toji, already frustrated as it was. "what gate?"
silence only followed after that. satoru's dark haired companion turned back once more with a scowl, gently lowering his two girls back to their feet despite their obvious discontent.
"for fu— he doesn't know what gate," he stated, annoyed. he then shoved the white-haired male. "give me back our tickets —"
"what?" satoru riposted, shocked and angry though he had no right to be. "why?"
suguru looked like he wanted to throttle him. "'cause you can't be trusted, idiot!"
everyone had stopped running by this point, meaning that there was no use for you to be held up by toji's useful back. he seemed to acknowledge this as the adults began to argue, shaking you off with more force than prior. you got the message, hopping down from your personal vehicle and stumbling into megumi's side. the boy held onto your arms to stop you from falling, and you pushed him away in thanks.
"the hell?" he questioned lowly.
you shrugged, observing the adults with a look of mild curiosity.
"does that mean you'll miss your flight?" you commented briefly.
"this is so embarrassing," mai added lowly, turning away from the unhinged people that were your family. "why did we even have to come along if we're not the ones leaving?"
"to say goodbye," you responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.
there were a lot of things you liked about mai, but equally, a lot of things you also disliked about her too. how entitled she acted, how rude she could sometimes be, how maki was just all around the better twin, though you never admitted this out loud. though your silence did speak volumes, even if you didn't know it.
"we'll see them again in a few weeks," she said airily. "how long are you staying there, megumi?"
he shrugged. you didn't think he was too fond her either. although, megumi didn't really like anyone, so that wasn't a fair argument. when this entire trip had been planned, the main issue he had was the fact that the only people that would be going that are his age are mimiko and nanako, and over the years, there was this unspoken competition between satoru's kids (you and megumi) and suguru's kids (mimiko and nanako). as amusing as it was to the adults, megumi took it quite seriously. he didn't think he could deal with them on his own.
you weren't accompanying him on this trip: it would be just him, satoru, his mom and dad, tsumiki, suguru, and mimiko and nanako.
he wouldn't communicate it to you, he wouldn't even text it to you, but he didn't think it'd be very enjoyable without you.
for one, he would have to deal with satoru's constant teasing all on his own (on the very rare occasion that you'd argue against satoru, you were quite helpful). he would be forced to interact with the twins on his own by his mother (usually his mom made the both of you do that, together). there were multiple other things he'd have to do alone on this trip. none of them would be as... dare he think... exciting as hanging out with you.
even throughout all of that, he was beyond grateful that he at least had tsumiki tagging along with him.
it still wouldn't be the same without you since you and tsumiki were not alike. though you were both kind hearted and held very highly in megumi's good graces, tsumiki was an entire grade older than the two of you and held this motherly nature around her despite it. she was, in better terms, like the sister he never had.
"maybe you won't be separated from us after all, porcupine," you said, gesturing to the adults that were still arguing (suguru had satoru in a headlock somehow, when did that happen?).
"yeah, you'll just miss your flight," added maki, nudging your side. that was probably her biggest way of showing affection. you'll take it.
you watched the scene unfold before you: toji and satoru were absolutely ripping each other apart with insults thrown back and forth. megumi's mom seemed to be the one trying to calm things down with the aid of suguru who usually never sided with toji on anything, but seemed to have no choice but to. all the while, uncle ogi was taking up his anger with your mom, who seemed to only care about leaving this place sooner rather than later.
"i'll sit on you," toji had threatened, fist raised at the blue-eyed male.
satoru stood up straight, head to head with him in response.
"yeah?" he challenged, smug. "so what, you're saying you're fat then? is that it?"
toji recoiled. if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you would probably spot the smoke flying out of his ears.
"what?" he demanded, voice carrying around the area.
"hey y/n!" satoru had randomly yelled, addressing you but his eyes refusing to leave toji's.
you froze, unsure of whether you liked where this was going. you had half a mind to step behind megumi and use his tall frame to conceal yourself. knowing your friend, you knew he'd probably be a traitor and step away from you instead.
"y/n! he said he's fat! did you hear that?"
you wanted to jump into a hole and just lay there as time went on and as the world moved on. nothing was more embarrassing to you than that horrific time where you truly believed that toji fushiguro was a 'fat man'. praying daily for everyone to forget that ever happened was deemed useless now that the issue arose again.
"i will sit on you, gojo," toji threatened again, eyes narrowed. "i will do it—"
"okay fatty!" sang satoru, speaking over toji's threats. "fatty, fatty, fatty, fatty—"
"— i'll sit on you —"
"— fatty, fatty, fatty —"
"satoru stop it, you're causing a scene!" megumi's mom ordered, voice harsh and authoritative.
he went as far as placing his hands over his ears to block everyone else out while he continued to sing the words 'fatty' repetitively. your mom stepped away from the scene, looking very much sheepish and uncomfortable.
toji glared at suguru, raising a pointer finger at him as satoru continued to sing. "you better tell him to stop it right now or i'll squash him like a bug!"
suguru's eyes widened, both shocked and angry. "the hell am i supposed to do about it?"
"oi!" interrupted uncle ogi, gripping satoru by the ear and twisting.
the singing had stopped, though the commotion hadn't.
"ow, ow, ow!" whined satoru, his head being pulled down to uncle ogi's height with each twist of his ear.
the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of passersby, and several of them at that. a lot of the lines were empty due to the late arrival of the family, however, for the strangers that had stayed behind for whatever reasons, each of them seemed very invested in the drama unfolding before you.
maki and mai had both stepped forward to calm the arguing, though it only proved useless when it started intensifying at their involvement. you and megumi approached tsumiki, still glancing at the rest of your chaotic family with critical expressions.
"i'll miss you guys," you said thoughtfully, and you meant it even if you didn't mention it much. you would never say that to one person alone, tsumiki's mere presence brought you the comfort needed to express your thoughts with a little more freedom.
"we'll miss you too," tsumiki quickly added, briefly glancing at megumi. "won't we?"
"no."
tsumiki smiled nonetheless. "he's lying."
you smiled. "i know. megumi's the biggest liar ever —"
"look who's talking," he scoffed sourly.
you and tsumiki both ignored him as though he hadn't said anything insulting at all.
"i don't think you'll be missing this though," she continued, amusement clear in her soft voice as she regarded the loud argument.
with toji threatening to kill satoru, satoru came up with a very unique rebuttal:
"see this?" he said loudly, lifting up his phone, the latest model. he turned it over so the back of his phone was presented to the angry man. he jammed a pointer finger at the flawed apple. "i'll turn you into that, yeah? i'll turn you into an apple —"
"why you little —"
to make matter's worse, a security guard had stalked over, smaller in height yet bulky enough to make up for it.
"hey! what's going on here?"
"oh — no — they're family," said your mom, finally walking back to the group to ease tensions.
satoru turned away with a scoff.
"i'm not related to that pumbaa look-alike," he'd snapped, jamming his sunglasses further up his nose.
toji stood up straighter. "yeah i'm not too crazy about being related to skinny santa over there either."
satoru's jaw dropped, his hand enclosed around the bottom of his hoodie. he lifted it up despite the protests from around him.
"you wish you had these abs —"
uncle ogi slapped the back of his head. "put it back down you damn harlot —"
tsumiki laughed behind her hands, only forcing megumi to somewhat scold her for her amusement.
"it's not funny," he said, frowning. "they're being dumb."
"yeah you're right, megumi," she agreed, too quickly. you caught the knowing look she sent you once he turned his head to look back at the scene. "they're being very dumb."
tsumiki didn't wait for megumi to catch on to her teasing, walking off towards maki and mai to observe the argument from a closer distance. her low pony tail swung itself left and right as she walked, her hair shining under the different lighting.
it didn't take long before the argument had ceased to exist: suguru examined the tickets thoroughly (after quite the argument with satoru to get them off of him to begin with) and even approached a person of higher knowledge to help everyone with finding the correct gate and so on. it only meant one thing for you: the time for you and half of the family to part ways had caught up to you all.
you hadn't expected your goodbye to be so rushed when megumi's mother called the two of you over and nearly broke all the bones in your body after wrapping her arms around you. you didn't get much time to breathe before you found yourself squeezed against satoru's side in a one-armed hug.
"aw, don't cry, y/n —"
you looked up at him, raising a brow. "i'm literally not even —"
"it's fine, i'll be back in a few weeks!"
you shoved him away. "just get away from me."
suguru seemed to be the only normal person, hugging you briefly before rubbing the top of your head affectionately.
his daughters didn't get the same treatment you gave him. instead, you urged them to come closer and gave your request in hushed tones.
"take as many ugly pictures of megumi as you can."
before they could question you, everyone was called over to cross the gate for the flight.
that was it, then, you realised, as the twins hurried over to follow their dad. you wouldn't be with everyone for the next three to four weeks. everything was going too fast — megumi's parents had already crossed the gate, along with tsumiki who was closely followed by suguru and his kids. uncle ogi, your mom, maki and mai had all stepped back to watch them leave.
though they'd be back after the four weeks, it only just hit you like a whiplash how different your summer would be. you spent most of your time with megumi, and if not with him, then with the rest of this family, coming up with crazy adventures that even yuji and nobara would tag along with. the friday night dinners that was a weekly routine for everyone would be abolished temporarily, because they were always held at satoru's place and he'd be gone on this vacation.
tsumiki wouldn't be able to help you with your homework (or rather, do it herself) when megumi would refuse to over the phone. you wouldn't be able to gossip with megumi's mom as often either, nor bother megumi's dad in your free time with satoru.
you could hardly turn around to find megumi before you stumbled back at how close he'd randomly appeared behind you.
"don't miss me too much," you said, to cover up how he practically scared your soul out of your body a second ago.
"don't blow up my phone," he shot back, a small jab at how even the distance between your homes was too far for you, resulting in the spamming of his phone with memes and random texts.
your shoulders dropped with a sigh.
"i'm going to miss you," you said at last, and if it wasn't going to be him, you'd break the ice yourself and cut to the chase.
megumi's lips parted as if to say something back. you didn't wait for his response, stepping forward and doing something you'd never actually done before:
you hugged him.
and it didn't feel forced. it certainly didn't feel awkward. megumi, despite his cold exterior, held this warmth around him that you felt touch your skin when your arms wrapped around his neck and you stood on the tips of your toes to be able to rest your chin on his shoulder. if you'd known this earlier, perhaps there would have been several hugs that would have happened sooner.
relishing in the feeling of his presence felt good just as much as it felt bittersweet. it wasn't as though you'd never see him again, you knew that he'd be back; it was the fact that since you met him several years ago, you unknowingly lost the ability to function without him.
it felt stupid to even think about. you were certain he didn't feel the same way — you didn't really care much if that was true.
your porcupine would probably grow another few inches over the weeks he'd be away from you, and you wouldn't be able to fuss and throw a tantrum about it in his presence.
megumi's hands had remained motionless for the next few seconds, seemingly confused about their position. you felt the gentle touch of his hands just above your waist and nearly laughed at his hesitation. you had half a mind to tease him about it, but felt that time (or lack thereof) was on his side.
"you better bring back lots of candy," you said, smiling into his shoulder. "the kind that we don't have here, okay?"
"you'll get a cavity," you heard him murmur.
you grinned.
"we'll get a cavity," you corrected, pulling away and staring up at him with wide eyes. "you'll be eating them with me, porcupine."
he raised a hand and flicked your forehead. you expected it. you let him do it (and that would be the first and last time you'd ever allow it to happen). when he muttered 'dumb mermaid' under his breath, you didn't step on his foot or pull his hair or even twist his ear. although the voice at the back of your head encouraged you to cause a scene, you thought that your family had already caused enough damage and drama. the security guard's face in the corner of the room told you exactly how exasperating that already was. there was no need to make his job even harder than it already was.
you stepped aside as a silent opening for megumi to finally leave. he made his way towards the gate, carrying his suitcase with him.
"megumi," you called out to him.
he looked over at you without hesitation, cheeks slightly pink. you couldn't blame him, the summer heat was almost unbearable.
you scratched the back of your neck.
"can you just hurry up and go? i'm getting this intrusive thought about going past the gate."
he scowled at you. he didn't know why he expected anything different.
"you can't."
"exactly," you said, as though it were the most clearest thing. "but i absolutely will —"
"m/n —" he said calmly, your mother immediately responding by wrapping her arms around your neck from behind you.
"go on, megumi," she told him.
he joined satoru, who had been waiting for him to finish his goodbye session with you, silent throughout it all. it was odd for his character, really. satoru was the loudest and most disruptive person you knew yet he never once intervened with your conversation with megumi. or maybe he was just distracted with the picture of that pretty woman on his phone, who knows?
"you were taking years," you heard satoru tell his godson. "i think my whites were starting to turn into greys —"
there was a pause as satoru peered down at megumi, his glasses easily sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head.
"hey," he began, with innocent curiosity, "why are you so red?"
"shut up i'm hot," megumi snapped back, awfully defensive.
satoru's brows furrowed. he was used to megumi's bites. he found it all too amusing, enough for him to force it out of him on purpose. he knew he was successful when megumi would resort to barking at the height of his anger... however, this time, he was barely trying to aggravate him. this came as a surprise.
but when satoru thought about it — really thought about it — he found it as satisfying as putting the two final pieces of a puzzle together, as amusing as the click of the charging wire being pushed into his phone, as fascinating as colour co-ordinated books on a library shelf.
and he found it funny as hell.
"oh," he said at first, getting used to the idea before it really hit him, like the soccer he'd accidentally kicked into the face several years ago of a special girl he knows. "OHHH —"
"shut up," growled megumi, glaring at satoru with a sideways glance, not fully staring up at him head on like he usually would because he was embarrassed.
megumi fushiguro was actually embarrassed! what beautiful thing had satoru done in his past life to witness such a thing?
"i see now —"
megumi wanted to snap satoru's neck. "i'll hurt you," he threatened sharply.
but satoru was in his own world, grinning like a maniac and showing off his pearly whites. "megumi has a cr—"
"kfc."
satoru nearly broke down right there and then. megumi thought it served him right, meddling in business that wasn't his. teasing him about something he'd never actually thought off.
it was safe to say that satoru had remained angry at him for the rest of the flight (he even developed an attitude towards suguru, who was left utterly confused with the random change in mood from his best friend).
megumi had never loved the silent treatment more that day.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
bonus scene:
the family returned from their vacation on a friday but were so jet lagged, they spent all of that day and the next sleeping off with no contact. it was on a special sunday that everyone had gathered at megumi's house to reunite, share gifts and experiences, and become one again. even your dad had come back from his travelling spree and brought back a ton of stuff for the rest of the family to go through.
megumi had brought over the candy he'd promised, along with a lot of other stuff he discovered over the course of the four weeks he was gone for. currently, it was being held captive by toji who was refusing to give them to you until you 'behaved' — whatever the hell that meant.
so to take your mind off of that (you planned on retrieving them later anyway) mimiko and nanako had showed you all the pictures they'd taken of megumi as promised. going through them with tsumiki and his mom by the kitchen was the funniest thing. somehow, one of the twins had managed to draw a moustache on him while he was asleep. you had a feeling that the morning after wasn't very pleasant.
but after going through everything and having lots and lots of conversations about what everyone got up to over the summer, you'd grown antsy and restless over the things toji was keeping from you.
enough was enough.
"can i have my gifts now?" you said, eyeing the possessive hand he'd placed over your box of unknown things.
he regarded you with a look of annoyance.
"no," he answered coldly.
"why not?" you whined, desperate.
he was sporting a glass of alcohol. perhaps he was just drunk and taking whatever anger he'd gotten from his testosterone out on you.
"you changed your ways yet, kid?" he questioned vaguely.
you looked around, clueless and in shock. why was no one coming to your aid? couldn't they see how unjust and odd this was? what the hell was he even talking about?
"what does that even mean?" you said loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the family around you.
"you're not getting anything till you start fixing that attitude, brat," he decided, firm. "looks like you never will though, so you'll get it when pigs fly."
you tilted your head at him, mildly confused.
"but you just got off a plane two days ago."
every bit of chatter had died down, silence radiating around the large room. someone could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would simply echo tumultuously. even mimiko and nanako, who were both always engrossed in their phones, had glanced up to pay attention. you could only hear the sound of toji's loud breaths. when you met his gaze, you thought he looked like someone had pissed in his cereal.
there was a snort from somewhere behind you. if you had to guess, it was probably from satoru, though you wouldn't be too surprised if it actually turned out to be suguru or even mai.
stupefied, stunned, and shocked, toji lifted your gift, enclosed in messy wrapping paper, and threw it out of the window, all without ungluing his eyes from yours.
you didn't question the first action that came to your mind. running to the window to throw yourself after it, ignoring the yells of your family and the arms that had held you back once you'd made your jump — your father's, you'd noticed, when he laughed at your foolishness instead of scolding you.
everyone had turned to scolding toji instead:
"seriously, toji?" his wife said, expression grave. "did you have to go that far?"
"you know she'd go and dive after it," your mom added with a pressing look.
toji grimaced. "since when did you care about anything?"
"since my daughter nearly threw herself out of an open window with no protective gear on —"
and all the while, you lingered at the back of the room with your gift unwrapped, grimacing when satoru rubbed your head in praise for coming up with a response as 'sick as that' — his words, not yours.
the joke continued to exist, even after several months. toji never lived down the day that you had made him look a fool in front of several people. some things just never change.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
notes: spam ty in the chat rn bitches
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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)
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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.
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All About You (18+)
♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader
♡ Genre: age gap, royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot
♡ Word Count: 7.5k
♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.
♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), pet names (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie
♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.
In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times– that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically.
You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check– and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option.
He lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason.
And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it.
You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you– he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability.
So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching the princess' description. And as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do.
He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself.
It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?
He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries.
Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe.
But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days.
As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you– there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere.
By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.”
Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power.
“Princess–” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp.
He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage.
Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are.
But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error– one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach.
You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night.
“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour.
He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.”
Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together.
“There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room.
You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised.
He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before?
You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to.
You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now.
“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.”
Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.”
“Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”
Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death.
He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you.
Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel– because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it?
You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter– you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl.
But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.
And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats.
You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on.
Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose– he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe.
You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning.
He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want. But you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.
But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily.
“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him– you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion, no matter what anyone says.
“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand.
You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs.
It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho thinks he would do if he were you, anyways.
“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?”
Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You– what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard; a man who is your fathers age at that. But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest.
“Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation.
“Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now?
And truly, Minho was the ideal man; at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you.
He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance?
Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.
You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help.
In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil; you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame.
You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly. You'd match one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other.
But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.”
You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control.
Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin.
In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this– to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side.
“You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” He looks you over carefully following your question, grip on the armrests tightening.
Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable?
“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.”
“So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated.
You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs before Minho rises from his chair. He's is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need– all for him.
Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin.
He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..”
He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy.
“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips.
He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows.
Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck.
You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle.
“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip.
If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin. He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too.
His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body.
He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing.
You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. “Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something.
You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating.
One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly.
Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your arousal. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect.
You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head.
“Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?”
You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims.
“I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers.
It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women– women who knew what they were doing. But really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand.
Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked– you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you.
He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question.
Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet.
Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes.
He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation.
“You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. “Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss.
His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin.
He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling.
It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all. “M-Minho, I’m– 'm gonna–” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence.
He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.
Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.”
All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips.
You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face and gushing around his fingers.
He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes.
You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers.
“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head. You’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down.
He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit. “Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.
The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.
He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly.
“Feels good, I just– I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel about him even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.
There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.
“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess–” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious.
“Minho, I–” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop.
You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please–” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.
The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.
Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble.
But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you– not that you mind in the slightest. You’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.
He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you.
He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.
You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release.
He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust. A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours.
Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him. His arms wrap around you snuggly, and keep you upright against his chest. You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek.
He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.
“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow.
“Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.
“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks.
In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.
It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably?
He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be. You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least.
“Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it.
There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same.
He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided– so if you make your future husband, your father, or even the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.
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