Chapter Text
Megumi has a meticulous routine. He wakes up at 4:30, takes a quick hot shower, does his morning skin routine before getting dressed. He fixes his brief, preparing every document he anticipates Sukuna will need for the day, sometimes even before Sukuna realizes he’ll need them.
By 5:20, he’s in his kitchen with a light snack. Sometimes it’s a couple of cookies or some fruit with green tea, an actual proper breakfast makes his stomach heavy and he oddly feels more sluggish on a full stomach.
In 30 minutes, he’s out the door and on his way to Sukuna’s home. How he managed to drive the entire hour to man’s house every single morning (except Sundays) should have been the first sign that something in his life had drifted far from normal. Yet after fourteen years, the routine has sunk into his bones so deeply that it feels as natural as breathing.
He picks up Sukuna’s dry cleaning, a cup of hot chocolate that the older man pretends is coffee and parks in the same spot on the driveway. He steps out, and straightens his waistcoat out of habit. He doesn’t need to knock. Sukuna gave him the passcode years ago.
From upstairs, he can hear Sukuna’s own quiet morning routine. They’ve both always been Plan A people. Rather, Sukuna accepted nothing but Plan A.
If a project failed, they rebuilt it.
If a meeting went sideways, they forced it back in line.
If life offered alternative routes, Sukuna refused them outright, paved paths of his own.
Megumi had come to reciprocate the same mindset. Working for Sukuna meant having to adapt or get left in the dust. A company is never built from the ground up on second chances, hopeful wishing or the luxury of luck.
Megumi had molded himself into what Sukuna expects and more. A secretary so seamless, utterly perfect that others in the company would joke that Megumi was made from Sukuna’s rib much like Eve.
When Megumi hears the shower running, that’s his cue to enter the man’s room. Much like the man himself, his bedroom was always kept neat. Bedsheets are always fixed after a toss-less night, pillows aligned. The only sign that someone actually sleeps here is the faint scent of Sukuna’s cologne lingering in the air. He makes his way over to the man’s walk-in closet and picks out a deep red wine tie and a black-faced Patek for the day.
He lays the items out on a leather tray, laying it near the suit Megumi brought for him. He soon hears the blow dryer being whirred on, the sound of gels and other products being clasped and closed shut. The bathroom door clicks open, Megumi can smell Sukuna before he sees him.
“Good morning, Megumi.” Sukuna says softly as he opens the closet door, clad in a fluffy white robe.
“Good morning, sir.” Megumi makes way to let the taller man into the rather spacious closet before making his own exit and lets Sukuna dress in private.
“I don’t know why you insist on waiting for me in the closet like a childhood monster.”
“Would you rather I wait for you on the bed, sir?” Megumi jokes.
There’s a pause, Megumi doesn’t expect one but,
“I’m not opposed to it.”
“Starting the day out humoring me already, Sukuna?”
Megumi had learned to drop the ‘sir’ from time to time. Sukuna always expressed how honorifics would annoy him.
More than Sukuna would ever admit out loud, he considered Megumi something closer to a friend, his closest, even—rather than merely a secretary.
Not too long, the closet door clicks open, Sukuna buttoning up his dress shirt, his tie draped over his shoulder, the task had always been reserved for Megumi to complete despite Sukuna being fully capable.
Megumi purses his lip and like every morning, Sukuna watches him as he steadily wraps the tie around his neck. Nimble fingers folding and tucking like he does everyday. The way Megumi stands close enough that Sukuna can feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint trace of his soap, hear the soft, controlled rhythm of his breathing.
After pulling slightly at the tie, Megumi flattens his work out, palms gliding across the top of Sukuna’s chest then brushing at his shoulders. He remembers Suiuna young. Maybe not young, but younger. He was probably around the age Megumi is not when the younger man started working for him.
Back then, Sukuna hadn’t always been so sure of himself. His suits never sat quite right, too tight around the shoulders, too short for his torso, but the man never had the time to care. His hair had been a darker shade of pink back then, body more tapered and sharp, eyes likewise. Now that he’s older, his temples lined with salted streaks of hair, he was still incredibly fit but smoother around the edges. He stood taller in suits tailor made for his physique and in a presence that is built on years of experience and determination.
“How are you, Megumi?”
Megumi looks up with a slant in his lips and a question in his brow.
“I’m great, sir. Why do you ask?”
Sukuna’s eyes narrow with displeasure of being given the practiced, polished answer Megumi gives to strangers and board members and nosy executives.
“You should take a vacation. You barely use your sick days.”
“I have a strong immune system.”
Megumi watches as Sukuna makes his way to his bedside table, picking his phone up.
“You know what I mean.”
Megumi bites his lip. Sukuna might be eating his words soon.
“Uraume is waiting for us downstairs. Come when you’re ready.” Megumi ignores the way Sukuna looks at him as he exits his bedroom.
The ride to the company building is quiet. Usually, Sukuna will request for a debriefing for the day as soon as they get on the highway but the older man remains silent, as does Megumi.
Only when they walk heel to toe to Sukuna’s office does Megumi start their normal day.
“I have a few things here for you that you need to look over,” Megumi says softly as Sukuna sits down in his office chair.
“Is this the file from KN Co.? We asked for this three days ago.” Sukuna asks gruffly, sliding his reading glasses on as he does.
“Yes. They were confirming their final terms for the partnership agreement.” He places the folders in front of his boss before taking a step back, hands clasped behind him.
“They’ll need your signature by noon tomorrow.”
Sukuna sighs, “Of course they do, but I’m not going to give it to them. What else do you have for me?”
“An offer from Gojo Holdings.” Sukuna shuffles between the folders Megumi handed over to him.
“They sent it in just this morning.”
Sukuna raises a brow. “Satoru? Again?”
“Yes,” Megumi continues. “They want to buy off a minor stake in the Shibuya project. They’re pushing for a meeting, preferably in-person.”
Sukuna snorts. “I just have all the time in the world, huh?”
Sukuna finally makes it to the last folder, this time smaller, thinner.
“And this?” He holds it up for a second to get Megumi’s attention and opens it without looking up at his secretary.
“What’s this? Another merger a.k.a. ghost project?” Sukuna supplies humorlessly.
“It’s… my resignation letter.”
Megumi can pinpoint the exact moment Sukuna’s expression falls. How Sukuna’s eyes trail from the top of the page down to the bottom, back to the top and down again, like he wasn’t sure of what he was reading.
“Your…” In bold, center aligned—
LETTER OF RESIGNATION
Megumi keeps his posture straight, hands still clasped behind him even though his palms have gone cold. “My resignation letter,” he repeats quietly. “I dated it for the end of next month. I—I thought it would give you enough time to adjust.”
“Adjust? For what?”
Sukuna asks almost dumbly, like he didn’t know what a resignation entails.
“My leaving,” Megumi patiently answers. “I’ll look into finding a replacement for you myself, I’ll train them, make sure all the documents are handed over smoothly. I promise, it’ll be as if I never left.”
Sukuna’s face is stone cold. Megumi likens it to how he looks when a meeting displeases him, when Plan A isn’t going his way.
“As if you never left.” Sukuna repeats.
Sukuna says it so quietly Megumi almost misses it.
But then the folder snaps shut.
Clean, sharp, final.
Megumi flinches at the sound.
“Right. You’re resigning. Of course,— uh,” Sukuna’s eyes meet his.
“May I ask why, at least?”
“Personal reasons.”
Sukuna stares before laughing dryly.
“I see. Very well.” He stands abruptly from his chair, Megumi steps back a little.
“Sir?”
“How about we start the day, Megumi? I don’t know. Don’t we have a meeting, when was it? What did you say in the car earlier? Or was it at the house. It was about the— the,”
“Tsukumo Group, sir.”
“Right… Tsukumo Group. Let’s get a move on.” Sukuna’s already rounded the table, headed towards the double doors.
“The meeting doesn’t start until another two hours, sir.”
“Oh. I’ll just… get us some coffee then.” With that, Sukuna pushes his way through his office doors.
Megumi is left staring at the space Sukuna had occupied moments ago, the faint sway of the double doors the only proof he had actually walked out.
Megumi patiently waits for Sukuna to return, sitting quietly on his leather sofa.
15 minutes before the meeting starts, Sukuna walks back into his office. Megumi pops up from his seat startling the older man.
“You’re still here?”
Megumi does his best not to quirk a brow his way.
“The resignation doesn’t take effect immediately, Sukuna.”
Megumi tries to joke but Sukuna flinches, like Megumi had sprinkled salt— no, as if Megumi had squirted a wedge of lemon onto the wound. Megumi is trying to look for a better word than frazzled but he can’t.
He has seen Sukuna in dire situations, especially when the company had just kickstarted. He remembers like it was just yesterday, 14 years ago when both of them were still new at their jobs, Sukuna hadn’t always been so perfect.
He remembers Sukuna furious during a power outage, exhausted during the months they worked in and out of the country. Both of them going days without sleep.
He has witnessed Sukuna angry, sad, sleep-deprived. He’s seen what Sukuna looks like overworking, cursing and triumphant.
But, never like this—
His tie slightly askewed, his hair that is usually gelled perfectly was now slicked back as if a hand ran through it two times too many, his shirt sleeves pushed back haphazardly, leaving it wrinkled.
He’s holding two cups of coffee.
“These. These are… I don’t even like coffee.”
“Trust me, Sukuna. I know.”
“And you like yours black.”
“That I do.”
Sukuna hands one of the cups to Megumi, Megumi accepts it carefully.
“Thank you. I’ve prepared everything for the meeting, sir. Let me just,—“ Megumi reaches over to fix the man’s tie but Sukuna takes a step back, the younger man hesitates.
“I’m sorry. Would you like to fix it yourself?”
Sukuna stares before he looks down at the state of himself.
“Oh, go ahead.” He straightens up but this time, it seems like his eyes dart around the entire room just to avoid looking at Megumi. Megumi takes none of it to heart before, patting his shoulders as always after fixing his tie.
“Ready?”
Sukuna nods once, leading the way. The elevator ride down is quiet, as is the meeting. It’s been years since Sukuna had to whisper to Megumi over the what’s and when’s of a meeting. Megumi just provides and jots as Sukuna would, so he didn’t expect the man to speak to him. But, still, Sukuna was spaced out.
Megumi answering for him at times, lucky that he knows how intricately the older man’s mind works to answer on behalf of him.
The rest of the day passes in a haze of tension.
Sukuna spends it staring at the wall, expression blank, only half-listening to anyone who speaks to him.
That man hates change.
He adapts well to it when he must, certainly.
But if it were up to him, every aspect of his life needs to be the exact same. Impeccably predictable.
His morning tea needs to be just the right amount of sweet, his Plan A’s need to follow through, and Megumi guesses that included Megumi needing to be in his bedroom by 7:00 in the morning as his secretary. And Megumi just ruined all of that.
Megumi doesn’t budge. He submitted his letter promptly and politely, even giving the man enough time to prepare for his departure. And as much as the guilt pangs at him, it’s time to move on.
So, by 6:00pm, the day ends and Megumi stands by Sukuna’s desk in the same state he left him an hour ago.
“Sir, would you like me to do anything before I leave?”
Sukuna remains quiet, staring.
Megumi clears his throat. “Can you look at me when I talk to you?” An edge in his tone that only Megumi is allowed when speaking to the C.O.O.
Sukuna finally shifts out of his stupor and turns to Megumi.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Megumi. You may leave… For the day,” He adds quickly. “You may leave for today.”
“You won’t be going home yet?”
“No,” He replies short. “Have Uraume take you back.”
Megumi purses his lip. “Good night, sir.” He bends over just the slightest before he turns on his heel and walks out.
The ride with Uraume is quiet.
Megumi and Uraume in one room would lead to nothing much that pleasantries but Uraume breaks the silence first.
“You told him, huh?”
“Wow. Word spreads fast.”
Uraume shakes his head, eyes flickering to Megumi in the rearview mirror.
“I just figured. You know, from the way he was acting today.”
Megumi shrugs. “Sukuna is a grown and capable man. I’d be so lucky to leave a dent when I leave.”
“He’s already on the brink of.. you know, while you’re still here. How much worse do you think he’ll be when you’re actually gone?”
Uraume drops him off at Sukuna’s home, Megumi climbs into his car and drives back to his duplex. The streets are almost empty now, city lights flickering in rhythm with his thoughts.
By the time he pulls into his own parking space, Megumi allows himself the briefest exhale of relief. The day is over. Routine resumes, but something has already shifted, and he knows tomorrow—just like today—will be anything but ordinary. Until at least next month.
He climbs the stairs to his unit and finally allows himself to unwind. The weight of the day presses down on him, and for once, he doesn’t fight it.
He orders in, it’s Saturday, so he splurges a bit on his dinner. He shrugs his coat and waistcoat off, pushing the buttons out of the first few of his button up and kicks back on the sofa.
He drapes an arm over his eyes, letting his body melt into the plush of the couch.
There’s a pang in his chest, a quiet ache he tries to push away to make room for relaxation.
He gets up, cleans up the house from the little mess. Just a few books and documents lying around his coffee table, a few dishes in the sink from this morning. He takes a quick shower and hunkers down in his pajamas. He curls up on the couch, clicks the TV on and waits for his food to arrive.
A little over 30 minutes of waiting, he hears a knock at his door, glad that he didn’t have to clarify he was the top unit of the duplex. He slips on his fluffy house slippers, padding over to the door and pulls it open.
“Name your price.”
Sukuna is hunched over his door frame, one arm across the top, the other holding himself upright. He’s only in his dress shirt now, sleeves again bunched up to his elbows, A few strands of hair have escaped his slicked-back style, curling loosely over his eyes handsomely.
“Sukuna, what the hell—“ Megumi peeks past the doorframe, he spots Sukuna’s Audi but no Uraume.
“What are you doing here?”
“Name your price, Fushiguro, and I’ll match it. No, I’ll raise it. Just tell me. I’ll even cash in the first year’s worth tomorrow morning—“
Megumi shakes his head, cutting him off. “I don’t have work tomorrow.”
Sukuna sputters, blinking, caught mid-gesture as if the words themselves have surprised him. Megumi steps aside, motioning him in.
“Just come in before you wake up the old lady downstairs,” he says, voice clipped but calm. Sukuna hesitates before he steps in, politely toeing his dress shoes off even after Megumi insisted he didn’t have to.
They sit awkwardly at Megumi’s dining table. His unit was just right for one person, two would be the limit but with Sukuna in here, it felt entirely small.
Megumi folds his hands neatly on the table, body confused to the foreign feeling of being in work mode while at home.
“Have you… eaten?”
Sukuna shakes his head. “I won’t be long. Just tell me your price.”
“What price, Sukuna?”
“For you to stay.”
Megumi sighs.
“I’ll triple your salary. Or you could go in four times… no, three times a week and I’ll still triple it. More vacation days? I always offered those all-paid for company vacations but you refuse.”
Sukuna leans forward, “Do you want better office space? I can kick out that old man Wasuke out of the corner office. What do I need to do to make you stay? I’ll do anything, offer you anything. “
Megumi shakes his head. “You can’t buy me, Sukuna. It may have worked on… others before.” The last bit leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.
“Then what can I offer?”
“Nothing.” Megumi smiles. “What I want, I can’t get from you.”
I’ll never get from you.
“How about you stay for dinner?” Megumi continues. “I have a tendency to overestimate how much I can eat, out of habit I order for two people.”
“Megumi, please.”
The door bell rings again and now Megumi knows it’s for sure his food. He rises from his seat without another word and brings the food back to the table. He takes out the silverware, Sukuna makes himself useful and pulls the takeout boxes from the paper bag.
They eat quietly for the most part, metal clinking against ceramic every now and then.
“So, you’re really leaving?” Sukuna sits back in his seat as the younger man pauses mid-bite.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think I deserve something better than just ‘personal reasons’? That’s the type of answer you give to your boss.”
Megumi smiles. “Well, you are my boss.”
“Megumi.” Sukuna warns sternly.
“If I at least have an idea… an inkling on what you plan to do after you leave, maybe I can help you with that.” Sukuna tries again.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You didn’t have to do a lot of things you did as my secretary, Megumi. Consider it returning the favor. I wish you the best in your future endeavors, even if that may be leaving the company.”
Megumi puts his spoon down, leaning forward as he looks between the food on the table then back to Sukuna.
“I’ve worked with you…” Megumi bites his lip.
“I’ve worked for you for fourteen years, Sukuna. For fourteen years, every waking moment, every breath I took catered to you. To what tie you would wear that morning, what documents should be placed in order of priority. I don’t exactly have the time to… travel, pick up a hobby or go cafe-hopping. And, if you haven’t noticed…” Megumi bites his lip, glancing down at the table for a moment before looking back up.
“I’m not getting any younger. I haven’t had a proper boyfriend in five years. I’m 35 years old, Sukuna. I know you have no problem being a,” Megumi pauses, laughing softly.
“a modern day casanova.”
“But having a family isn’t entirely out of the question for me yet.” Megumi says timidly.
Sukuna leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing, dark and unreadable. He doesn’t speak immediately, letting Megumi’s confession hang between them.
“You mean that?” Sukuna’s voice is soft.
“Every word.”
Sukuna nods. “That’s completely understandable.”
Megumi smiles, eyes glistening as he straightens up in his seat. “I knew you would understand, Sukuna. I promise, I’ll hire someone capable, more capable than I was starting out. I’ll let them shadow me and I’ll—“
Sukuna raises his hand.
“Your reason… on leaving. It’s understandable,”
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. Megumi freezes slightly, recognizing the position all too well—the posture Sukuna always takes when he’s about to make an offer, or when he’s weighing a decision, when he’s thinking something through with his full attention.
“And doable.”
Megumi’s chest tightens.
“Pardon me?”
Sukuna has this satisfied look on his face, he crosses his arms and lifts his chin. Megumi likens it to when he just sealed a deal ruling in his favor.
“You want a life of your own, you want to go cafe-hopping and have a family. I can make that happen.”
Megumi is stunned for a split second before he laughs.
“Right,” Megumi mumbles sarcastically, he leans his chin on his hand propped up on the table.
“And how exactly do you plan on providing me with the last bit? I’m not exactly talking about a family of cats here, Sukuna.”
“I firmly believe you and I would make beautiful babies.”
Megumi doesn’t even bother to hide the disbelief on his face, nor the blush that rise up from his neck. His hand drops from his cheek, his posture straightening as he stares at Sukuna like the man has finally—finally—lost his mind.
“You’re kidding.”
Sukuna doesn’t blink. Not once.
If anything, he looks… offended.
“What?”
“Don’t you ‘what’ me? Are you out of your mind? You can’t just—“
“Why not?”
“That’s… That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works!” Megumi stands up from his chair, pacing his kitchen as he does. “You can’t just— offer up your sperm like that, Sukuna. How would your wife feel if… I don’t know. If you have a kid out of wedlock.”
Sukuna raises a brow. “Wasn’t it already a given that you and I would get married?”
That stops Megumi in his tracks.
“Gone. You’re completely gone.”
Megumi has a blank look in his eyes as he shakes his head. Sukuna finally gets up, leaning against the table next to Megumi.
“Didn’t you just finish telling me you’re worried about getting older? Not having a boyfriend? Wanting a family?”
“That doesn’t mean with you!” Megumi snaps.
“Ouch. Do you know how many people would be pouncing on the opportunity of having a kid with me? Being my wife?”
“Husband.”
“Being my husband?” Sukuna corrects himself.
Sukuna reaches out, carefully. He places a loose hand around Megumi’s wrist. He looks up to gauge Megumi’s reaction, with no adverse reaction, he tugs lightly at it and Megumi tenses up.
Megumi stiffens immediately, tension coiling in his core. He doesn’t pull away, but every muscle in his body screams caution.
“Come, Megumi.”
Megumi lets himself get pulled, until Sukuna has him against his front, still leaning back on the table but now with Megumi slotted between his legs. He leans his head down, pressing their foreheads together.
“I know this is unorthodox but I still have intentions on doing this right.”
Megumi can smell him, he shies away, turning his head to the side.
“Doing what right?” Megumi whispers softly, he doesn’t recoil away when he feels lips against his jaw.
“Courting you.”