Chapter 1
The late afternoon wind whipped through Megumi's hair, tousling the dark strands across his forehead as he walked down the busy street. A deep exhaustion pulled at his bones - the kind that came from too many hours under harsh studio lights and the constant command to "turn this way" or "chin up." At least the modeling shoot had wrapped early today. The thought of pulling another all-nighter made his shoulders tense with phantom stress.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, the sensation almost making him jump. The name "Gojo" flashed across the screen, accompanied by an incoming message that made him sigh even before reading it.
Gojo: Megumiiiiiii
Megumi could practically hear his guardian's voice in his head, that irritatingly playful tone stretching out each syllable of his name like taffy. His thumbs moved across the screen with practiced annoyance.
You: what
Gojo: can you get me and geto a coffee at the place I like ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
A headache threatened to form behind Megumi's eyes as he read the message. Of course Gojo would find a way to interrupt his precious free time. He pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to massage away the irritation.
You: fine, whatever
Gojo: thank you ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
Megumi shoved his phone back into his pocket with perhaps more force than necessary, his jaw clenching slightly. Leave it to Gojo to always know exactly when to saddle him with some meaningless errand. The man had an uncanny talent for disrupting any moment of peace Megumi managed to find.
The street ahead was busy with late afternoon traffic, the sun casting long shadows between the buildings. Megumi's eyes darted back and forth before he stepped off the curb, hyperaware of his surroundings. His heart rate picked up slightly - not from the traffic, but from the constant anxiety of being recognized. The last thing he needed was to be surrounded by fans or paparazzi, their cameras flashing and voices calling his name.
His reflection caught his eye in a nearby storefront window, making him wince internally. The disguise he wore was amateur at best - a plain black surgical mask, a worn baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and an oversized jacket that did little to hide his model's physique. The only thing that retained any sense of his usual style were the small silver hoops in his ears, glinting in the fading sunlight. He hadn't bothered to remove them - they were one of the few accessories he genuinely liked, a small rebellion against the constant costume changes of his profession.
The thought of being caught in public looking like this made him cringe. The fashion magazines would have a field day - "Top Model Megumi Fushiguro Spotted in Convenience Store Chic!" He could already imagine the headlines, could already hear Gojo's delighted laughter at his expense.
Sleep. The word floated through his mind like a siren's call. His bed was waiting at home, promising the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. Just get the coffee, he told himself. Get the coffee and you can go home and pass out for the next twelve hours.
A car horn blared suddenly, jerking him from his thoughts. Before he could fully process what was happening, a sports car swerved past him, missing him by mere inches. The wind from its passing ruffled his clothes as it sped through the red light, leaving behind the acrid smell of burnt rubber and Megumi's racing heart.
"Impatient ass," he muttered, running a trembling hand through his hair. The adrenaline made his fingers tingle as he tried to steady his breathing. Just another reminder of why he hated running errands in this part of the city.
His eyes found the café sign ahead - "6 Eyes Cafe" spelled out in stylized neon. The name was pretentious, just like everything else Gojo liked, but Megumi had learned long ago not to question his guardian's eccentric tastes.
The bell above the door chimed softly as he entered, the air conditioning hitting him with a blast of cold air that made him suppress a shiver. The barista's head snapped up at his entrance, their eyes widening slightly in what might have been recognition.
"Two regular coffees, please," he said quickly, keeping his voice low as he approached the counter. The barista nodded and turned away, leaving Megumi to drum his fingers anxiously against his thigh as he waited.
For a brief, mischievous moment, he considered ordering Gojo's coffee decaf - a petty revenge for the errand. But the thought of dealing with a caffeine-deprived Gojo was enough to make him abandon the idea. Living with the man was already like residing in a constant tornado of chaos and bad jokes. Megumi still hadn't forgiven him for the phone incident last month, when he'd discovered both his lock screen and home screen replaced with selfies of Gojo's grinning face. It had taken him hours to delete all the copied photos from his camera roll.
"YOO Megumi!! I knew you looked familiar!"
The voice cut through the café's peaceful atmosphere like a knife, making Megumi's entire body go rigid. A cold weight settled in his stomach as he turned, already knowing who he'd see.
"I can still call you Megumi, right?" Ryomen Sukuna asked, his lips curved in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The man looked exactly as Megumi remembered - covered in intricate tattoos that disappeared beneath his shirt collar, multiple piercings catching the light, and that ever-present air of casual arrogance that made Megumi's blood boil.
"For you, Fushiguro," he replied through clenched teeth. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he fought to maintain his composure. Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him?
"Aww, come on, I haven't seen you in yearsssss," Sukuna drawled, drawing out the word in a way that made Megumi's skin crawl. "Why don't we catch up, Fushiguro?" The way he said Megumi's surname felt like a caress, and it took everything in Megumi's power not to physically recoil.
"I was kind of hoping you'd died in some tragic way," Megumi shot back, acid dripping from every word. His heart was pounding now, but not from fear - from rage, from memories he'd spent years trying to suppress.
Sukuna shrugged, as if Megumi's hostility was nothing more than mild inconvenience. "Nah, some stuff just happened. Had to lay low for a while." He spoke casually, as if they were old friends catching up over coffee, rather than... rather than what they actually were.
The casual tone made something snap inside Megumi. "Listen, Sukuna," he hissed, taking a step forward. "We aren't friends. We haven't been in years. So why not cut the crap and leave me alone?" His voice trembled slightly, but not from weakness - from the effort of containing years of bottled anger.
"Seriously? Still mad about that?" Sukuna's expression shifted to one of bored incredulity. "Thought you would have changed by now."
Megumi's vision blurred at the edges, rage making his whole body feel hot. "Still mad?!" The words came out as a sharp hiss. "You're starting to sound like you don't comprehend what you did to me!"
"That's dust under the rug," Sukuna waved his hand dismissively. "Those things don't mean anything. Besides, I'm not a teenager anymore."
The casual dismissal of everything - all the pain, all the betrayal, all the nights Megumi had spent trying to piece himself back together - it was too much. "You say that, but you still don't look the tiniest bit sorry," he spat, his voice raw with emotion.
Sukuna's eyes lingered on him, something dark and familiar flickering in their depths. "You liked it, didn't yo-"
The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the café as Megumi's hand connected with Sukuna's cheek. The slap seemed to surprise them both - Megumi couldn't remember deciding to move.
For the first time, Sukuna's cool facade cracked. "Who the hell do you think you are?!" he snarled, one hand pressed against his reddening cheek, his face contorted with anger.
"Who do you think YOU are?!" Megumi shouted back, past caring about who might hear or recognize him. "Just coming back into my life like this?? Acting like the things you did to me were nonexistent!!" His whole body was shaking now, years of suppressed emotions finally breaking free like a dam bursting.
The silence in the café hung thick and heavy, broken only by the gentle hum of the espresso machine and Megumi's ragged breathing. His palm still stung from the slap, a physical reminder of his lost composure. Sukuna's expression had transformed from his usual arrogant smirk into something darker, more dangerous – a look Megumi remembered all too well
Before either of them could speak the barista spoke “your coffees ready sir”she said, her voice nervous and unsure
Megumi clutched his head, grabbing down onto his hair. He had to remain calm.
“Thanks” he mumbled taking the coffee off the counter
As he turned back toward the door, Sukuna stepped into his path.
"Running away again?" The taunt was clear in his voice.
"No," Megumi replied calmly, meeting his gaze steadily. "I'm choosing to walk away. There's a difference." He moved to step around Sukuna, but the older man caught his arm, fingers digging into his bicep through the jacket.
The nerve this guy had
In one fluid motion, Megumi jerked his arm free and stepped back. "Touch me again," he said, his voice deadly quiet, "and I'll do more than slap you."
God, he didn’t think his day could get this worse
As he exited the cafe he casted one last glance behind him. Sukuna still standing in the same place he left him
He put a scowl on his face, the actual nerve he had, showing up and acting like they could be friends again
A vibration sounded from his pocket
Gojo: Megumiiiii where are youuuu? (｡•́︿•̀｡)
Gojo: Did you get lost? Should I send a search party? ⊂((・▽・))⊃
Gojo: MEGUMI ARE YOU IGNORING ME （＞﹏＜）
Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
You: On my way back. Something came up.
Gojo: ∑(O_O;) Something?? What something??
You: nothing, don’t worry about it