Chapter Text
And there they were, surrounded by taped-up boxes and half-assembled furniture, dragging the last of their lives into a shared apartment just off-campus. It was cheaper than a dorm, and quieter too.
Megumi exhaled as he dropped his final box in his room. Across the hall, Yuji was already tearing into his endless stack, a whirlwind of movement as always.
Megumi lingered in the doorway, watching for just a moment before getting lost in the memory of how they even got here.
It started at a year-end party they both shouldn't have been at. He’d been dragged by Nobara, who ditched him the second they stepped through the door. Out of spite (and to prove Gojo wrong), he stayed longer than the predicted 30 minutes. The music was too loud, the air too warm, bodies pressing too close; it made him crave home.
He was halfway to the kitchen when someone slammed into him.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry– I lost my balance, please forgive me.”
A pink-haired boy with wide, earnest eyes, and angles at a slight bow.
Megumi winced. “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” He turned on his heel, escaping through the front door without a word. He wasn’t leaving , just… breathing.
He sat on the curb, letting the night wrap around him. The sky was clear. He should’ve stayed home.
“Hey…”
Megumi looked up. The same boy stood awkwardly nearby, holding a red plastic cup.
“I’m sorry again,” the boy said, easing down beside him. “Peace offering? It’s just soda.”
Megumi took the cup. Strawberry soda. Sweet, a little sharp.
“Thank you.”
The boy smiled, a blinding kind of smile. The kind that made Megumi’s stomach pull in an unfamiliar way.
“I’m Yuji Itadori.”
“I’m Megumi—”
“Fushi!”
Yuji’s voice echoed from across the hall, yanking Megumi back to the present. He blinked, looking towards Yuji’s room.
“You okay? You were staring into the void.”
“I’m fine,” Megumi mumbled, shaking off the haze and returning to his boxes.
Yuji appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. “Something bothering you?”
Even after only a year, they could read each other too well. Secrets didn’t stay secret long between them, even the ones you swore you’d never tell.
“Not really. Just thinking about starting university,” Megumi replied, technically not lying.
Yuji slid down to sit on the floor beside him, knees pulled close. “I’m a little nervous too,” he admitted, “but knowing you’ll be there helps.”
He smiled again, that same smile he knew too well. Megumi felt something shift in his chest.
“We’re in different buildings.”
“Yeah, but I’ll know where to find you.” Yuji’s tone softened. “That’s enough for me.”
“You gonna finish dinner?” Megumi asked, voice lower than before.
Yuji grinned and jumped up. “On it!”
Megumi watched him disappear into the kitchen. For a long time, he didn’t move. He’d never wanted a roommate. But somehow, this didn’t feel like sharing space. It felt like sharing something else.
He bent down to open a new box, but his hands slowed. There was something surreal about all of this. His days used to bleed together, grayscale memories in a loop. Since Tsumiki... no, since his parents... he’d done what was expected. What Gojo told him. Like he lived his whole life, before the first light.
He never believed he’d have a future, let alone imagine one.
Until now.
“Dinner’s ready!”
That voice, that brightness, it pulled him back again.
“I made your favorite! Figured we needed a small celebration.” Yuji beamed, setting a bowl in front of him.
Megumi stared at it for a moment. How did Yuji know he liked extra ginger?
“You don’t want it?” Yuji asked, voice a little unsure now.
Megumi shook his head. “Of course I want it.” He sat down at the bar, only one stool beside him, always one.
Yuji took it without hesitation.
They ate in comfortable silence until, “I’m going to miss you.”
Megumi paused, blinking. “Itadori… we live together.”
“Well yeah, but we won’t be in class together. I can’t bother you as much as I want to.” Yuji pouted, lips curling and eyes soft. Megumi’s gaze dropped, lingered at his lips before flicking away.
“You can still bother me after classes,” he said too quickly. “If that makes you feel better.”
“But you don’t like socializing after being around people.”
You’re not like other people.
“You’ve never cared about that before,” Megumi countered.
Yuji hesitated. “Yeah, but… I don’t want to overwhelm you. With... me.”
Megumi dropped his utensil.
The silence was thick.
They looked at each other, really looked. Like always. Everyone noticed it, commented on it. But it never felt strange to them. It felt like breathing.
“You’re never too much for me,” Megumi said finally.
Yuji’s eyes widened, then melted into something softer, something that bloomed between them in the quiet.
He held out his pinky.
A vow.
Megumi wrapped his around it.
“Thank you, Fushiguro.”
Neither moved to pull away. Neither wanted to.
Eventually, dinner ended.
“I’ll wash,” Megumi said, reaching for their plates.
Yuji beat him to it. “I’ll help.”
Side by side at the sink, hands moving in sync, the moment felt suspended, like the world had paused to give them this one moment.
Then Yuji swiped a handful of bubbles onto Megumi’s nose and made a beard on his own face.
“Seriously?” Megumi deadpanned.
“What? You want a beard too?” Yuji stepped closer, threatening with a huge pile in his hand.
Megumi stepped back.
Yuji stepped closer.
Two laps around the living room, down the hall, and back to the kitchen. Finally, Yuji caught him, grabbing his waist and flipping him down onto the rug they had picked together.
They were breathless, chest to chest, bubbles clinging to their skin.
Megumi didn’t move. Yuji didn’t either.
Instead, he giggled, eyes crinkling. “Look, now you have a goatee.”
Megumi just stared.
“Get off me, idiot. We have class tomorrow.”
Yuji laughed again, softer now. “Yeah. I know.”
He helped him up.
They walked to their rooms, silence taking up the space.
“Goodnight, Fushi.”
“Goodnight, Itadori.”
Their names slipped from each other’s lips like second nature, familiar and intimate.
Neither of them knew what tomorrow would bring. But tonight, their hearts beat a little closer, and neither could sleep quite right.