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Within a day of Satoru promising to take care of everything, the power was turned back on in the Fushiguros’ apartment, the rent and utility bills were transferred to Jujutsu Tech, and Megumi was granted a monthly stipend. And when Satoru had arrived to deliver it, Megumi had opened the door, then shut it quickly in his face. Tsumiki was the one to let him in, and Satoru tried not to grimace as he stepped inside.
The apartment was truly baren.
To scrape by on their own, they’d had to sell almost all of the furniture in the apartment, aside from a singular futon they must’ve shared. They’d even sold the fridge; they’d had no power after all, why the hell would they need a fridge?
Satoru took care of that too. He’d hauled their old futon out to the trash and dragged them to the mall seeing that two new futons, a fridge, a couch, and a TV were all delivered the same day. He’d stocked the fridge as well—with nothing kids should be eating of course, but it was better than they’d eaten in months anyways.
And then he’d left.
Megumi clearly didn’t care for him, and Tsumiki seemed wary of him; and besides, they’d made it this far on their own without money, they certainly didn’t need him now that they had it.
That’s what he told himself, at least.
In a way, he was naively jealous of them. As the bearer of the Six Eyes and Limitless, he’d been raised with every privilege imaginable, but he was suffocated. His entire life was mapped out for him the moment his techniques became apparent, and from that point, his childhood was trainings after lessons after trainings. He was involved in clan meetings before he was Megumi’s age, and barely Tsumiki’s before he was expected to weigh in on major decisions. He never wanted for anything material, he never skipped a meal—always chef prepared and perfectly balanced. But he would’ve loved getting to eat sweets and junk food when he wanted to; he would’ve loved to walk himself to school and be among other kids his age, rather than the ‘homeschooling’ (indoctrination) he’d received until he had the chance to leave for JJ Tech.
So he stepped back. He let them have the freedom he wasn’t ever offered.
He was still their benefactor; he still checked in, now and then. He brought them sugar and toys and books, took them out to eat, signed their permission slips for school. And slowly they began warming up to him.
Well, Tsumiki warmed up to him. Megumi had just thawed out a bit, but that was still something worth celebrating.
“Sooo,” Satoru asked as they walked through the zoo giftshop and towards the exit after the two hours they spent there. “What was your favorite part?”
Megumi didn’t answer, but glanced to Tsumiki when she said, “I liked all of it!” with a smile. But Satoru knew if he was to ask her anything—what her favorite restaurant they’d gone to was, what her favorite dessert they’d gotten was, that would always be the answer. It wasn’t that she lacked opinions—she was one of the most intelligent children he’d ever interacted with, and Satoru would guess she had more thoughts and opinions than most adults in the Gojo clan. Maybe she thought expressing she liked one thing over another would make her seem ungrateful, or she wasn’t used to being asked about her opinions, Satoru didn’t know.
But he knew from the glee on her face that she liked the bullet train sushi restaurant the most, that fried ice cream was her favorite dessert. And he knew from the way her eyes lingered on the stuffed zebra they’d just passed by that she thought that was the cutest toy in the store.
“Hmm, really? All of it?” Satoru asked teasingly. “You didn’t like one single animal more than the others? Cauuuse I thought the zebras were pretty cool.” He placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her in front of the shelves housing the stuffed animals. “Want to take one home?”
Her eyes lit up and she looked up at him with a smile. “Really, can I?”
“Of course! Megumi, you pick something too.”
Megumi watched as Tsumiki petted several of the identical stuffed zebra until she found the one that she liked the most, before he answered, “I don’t need anything.”
Megumi’s deadpanned responses and muted reactions made him quite a bit harder to read than Tsumiki, but not impossible. He wasn’t concerned about appearing ungrateful or pleasing others. He just wasn’t interested in becoming even more indebted to Satoru than he already felt he was. But that wasn’t how Satoru saw things in the slightest.
“Then Tsumiki will just have to pick something out for you. ‘Miki, what do you think? Something pink for Megumi, right?”
Megumi gave him an unamused look as he held up a pink koala for Tsumiki to inspect.
She giggled and shook her head. “How about the panda, Megumi?” she asked grabbing one off the shelf and holding it out to her brother.
“Whatever,” Megumi yielded, knowing a losing battle when he saw one.
So Satoru shoved the panda into his hands and Megumi reluctantly carried it home. At least, he carried it halfway home.
The sun was setting as they made their way back to the Fushiguros’ apartment; Tsumiki still had a lot of pep in her step as she snuggled the zebra under her arm, but Megumi had started dragging his feet.
It was summer, the days were still long, so it was probably close to their bedtime, and they’d spent quite a while walking around the zoo. Concerned that Megumi was going to stumble, Satoru debated grabbing his hand, but he highly doubted that could go well, so he just kept a bit closer attention on the boy. It wasn’t until Megumi nearly rolled his ankle off the sidewalk that Satoru stepped in. “Alright, come here,” he said and placed his hands under Megumi’s arms and lifted him straight up.
“Wh—hey, let go!” Megumi fussed, kicking his feet out, but Satoru lifted him straight up and sat him down on top of his shoulders. He then grabbed onto Megumi ankles to hold him up while Megumi scrambled to grab onto Satoru’s neck. “What are you doing, put me down.”
Tsumiki looked back at him and giggled. Satoru winked at her before jostling Megumi, who gave a startled yelp, holding on tighter.
“Pipe down. You’re not getting a concussion on my watch. Don’t choke me, though.”
Megumi loosened his grip on Satoru’s neck, leaning forward to find his balance. “What’s a concussion?”
“It’s what happens when you fall and hit your head. Now let’s get you kids home, huh? How ‘bout I make you guys some dinner while you get cleaned up? You smell like a zoo.”
Megumi hand twitched against Satoru’s shoulder, and Tsumiki stopped walking to look up at him. “You’ll make dinner?”
Satoru feigned a scowl and in an overdramatic affronted tone said, “What’s that look for? I know how to cook!”
But he sobered immediately as he recalled running his fingers through silky, long black hair—twirling it into a bun and clipping it back at Suguru’s request, so it wouldn’t get in the way as they cooked together. When Satoru admitted he had never cooked before coming to school, Suguru had taught him how in the dorm kitchen. He was a good teacher, and Satoru had taken to like it was his second nature, quickly surpassing Suguru in terms of instinct and skill—and he knew he was good, because not even Nanami had a bad thing to say. But he still asked Suguru for help each and every time, just as an excuse to be close to him, hear his laugh, smell his conditioner… God, how did it still hurt just as bad now as it did the day Suguru left? Why did his second button still weigh just as heavy around Satoru’s neck?
He was shaken from his thoughts as Tsumiki immediately started skipping again with a pleased, singsong “Nothing!”
Satoru hadn’t meant to spend the night.
After dinner, he’d stayed in the kitchen to wash dishes while Megumi and Tsumiki put themselves to bed, and he’d had every intention of seeing himself out when he was done. But as he turned out the kitchen light he was hit with a wave of exhaustion. It had been mission after mission recently, and he didn’t realize just how long he’d been running on empty until he was alone in a dark room and his body began screaming that it was time to rest. He let himself recline on the couch, telling himself it was only for a moment before he would go home to his comfortable king-sized bed. Joke was on him though. He fell asleep within a few minutes of laying down, his long limbs hanging off at precarious angles, and woke up in the morning with one hell of a crick in his neck.
He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he looked around for his sunglasses which had fallen off at some point during the night. Daylight was already shining through the window, and his cell phone (which, having foregone charging it the previous night, was down below ten percent) let him know it was just past seven.
The kids were still asleep, so he debated just leaving, but he’d seen the assorted mix of cereals in the cabinet as he was making dinner. He knew that they had a boring bran breakfast ahead of them unless Satoru intervened, and it’s not like he had anywhere else to be.
Knees cracking as he stood, he made his way to his feet and walked into the kitchen to start making breakfast.
He wasn’t sure what time the kids would need to wake up, so he decided that he would give them until breakfast was ready before he went to check on them. Though he didn’t even need to wait that long. They were light sleepers, it turns out. Only a couple of minutes after he’d made a racket pulling the skillet out of the cupboard, his Six Eyes sensed movement from the bedroom. He felt two small energies begin to move towards him, but they stopped right outside the kitchen. He glanced to the doorway, where Tsumiki had just peeked around the corner, and gave her a smile. “Morning.”
“Satoru-san?” Tsumiki asked, her voice coming out in a sigh of relief. She finished coming around the corner. Megumi was holding onto her hand tightly. “You stayed?”
At the quiver in her voice, he grimaced, realizing he probably scared them by staying without letting them know first. Hell, it was their apartment, maybe he should’ve asked if he was even allowed to stay. “Yeah, thought you kids could use a warm breakfast today.”
Tsumiki’s face broke into a smile and she giggled.
The sound made Satoru smile too. “It’ll be a few more minutes before it’s ready. Go get dressed.”
“Thank you, Satoru-san!” Tsumiki said, her grin still huge. Megumi was just staring up at him with furrowed brows, but after Tsumiki tugged on his hand he repeated, “Thank you, Satoru.” Then they were off; though Satoru suspected they’d spend less time getting dressed than Tsumiki would spend trying to tame Megumi’s wild hair.
Satoru had finished making breakfast and set down two plates on the table just as his phone began to ring. He suppressed a sigh, knowing who that ringtone belonged to. “Food’s on the table, I gotta take this,” he called down to the hall and stepped outside.
“Bye-bye!” Tsumiki called after him, poking her head back around the corner, but he was already out the front door and walking down the rickety stairs.
“What’s up?” he asked after flipping open his phone.
“You aren’t going to like it.”
“I don’t like much of what you have to say.”
The newly-inducted principal huffed slightly. “Listen, Satoru. There’s a semi-special grade curse causing trouble up north in Hachinohe. It’s… from what our windows have to say, it appears to be one that Suguru absorbed on one of his missions last year before the defection.”
Satoru bristled, but Yaga continued cautiously.
“It… manifested” (was released) “at a temple last night” (during the full moon, a night civilian foot-traffic in the area would be heavy). “There are already several non-sorcerers missing whose disappearances are attributed to the curse…” Yaga was dancing around the point (that Suguru had always been the smartest of them, and he was using that to the fullest for his new agenda), and it was pissing Satoru off.
“Alright, and?” he snapped. “I’ll exorcise it, I don’t need all the background.”
Yaga sighed. “Look… I know this is hard for you—”
“Hard? What would be hard about this,” he said through gritted teeth.
“But we need you to search for residuals after you’ve exorcised the curse. We need to locate where he’s camped out. We need to stop him before he does something… drastic.”
“And why do you want me to go? Aren’t the higher-ups concerned with my loyalty? That I’d cover for him?”
Yaga sighed. He’d seen Satoru and Suguru together. He knew what they had—how deep Satoru’s affections ran. He understood the hurt and grief Satoru felt, but he also knew Satoru would never choose Suguru over the rest of the world, regardless of how tempted he was. “Because you know his cursed energy better than anyone. And I know better than to doubt your loyalty.”
Satoru looked up, taking a shuddering breath.
Taking that silence for the acceptance that it was, Yaga carried on with the plan to convene, and he was still talking when Satoru heard the door opening. He looked up to see Tsumiki locking the door with the key that hung around her neck on a pink lanyard. As the kids started making their way down the stairwell, Satoru began tapping his foot impatiently. “I got it,” he said, cutting off Yaga. “I’ll head there soon, but I have a stop to make first.”
“What stop do you have to make? This is important.”
Satoru rolled his eyes. “I’ll get there when I get there, Yaga, I gotta go.” He snapped his phone shut, ending the call just as the kids reached the ground. “Sorry ‘bout that. You guys ready?”
“For what?” Megumi asked skeptically.
“To walk to school?” Satoru answered, thinking it should have been obvious.
Megumi just stared at him for a long minute before replying in his deadpanned voice, “You don’t have to come with us. We’ve been getting there by ourselves just fine.”
Satoru’s smile faltered. He really was overstepping, wasn’t he? Hadn’t he wanted to give them space?
But Tsumiki put her hand over her brother’s mouth before he could say anything else. “We’re ready!”
Satoru met her bright eyes and smiled, then grabbed onto the top strap of both of their backpacks and lifted them off of the kids’ shoulders. They both looked confused, but let him take their backpacks and throw one over each of his shoulders, carrying them as they walked.
Exorcising the curse hadn’t even required a veil. It had been semi-special when Suguru had absorbed it, but Suguru’s technique tamed his curses, even if only a little. Exorcising the curse was easy, but afterwards he spent hours upon hours scouring every inch of land between the area where he found the curse and the temple where it had been released. When he found nothing there, he combed the area in an outward spiral from the temple as well, but Suguru knew how to hide his residuals well, and Satoru couldn’t pick up on a thing.
He wished Yaga hadn’t sent him. Even if Yaga trusted his loyalty, the higher-ups would see that he’d failed to turn up any insight into Suguru’s whereabouts and assume he was hiding information. They’d interfere and try to keep him from these assignments in the future, even though Yaga was right—Satoru was the best suited to track Suguru down.
He was the best suited to face him, if it came to it.
And maybe he just wanted to see him again, okay? Was that really so bad? He’d still turn his location over—he’d still aid in the capture. But he just wanted to see him first.
So he tried harder. He stayed in Hachinohe and spent the next two days in the city, searching for any sign of him with no success. Somehow the possibility that he could have seen Suguru—spoken to him if he’d found him, made the failure of defeat all the worse. As did the skeptical silence upon his report to the higher-ups when he returned to Tokyo.
He stormed out of their council room at the first implication that he hadn’t tried hard enough.
He had tried, he really had. But when it came to Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the millennia, no one believed he might fail an assignment, no matter how impossible the task. Suguru, as a special grade himself, had nearly understood the incredible expectations weighing him down, but no one else had even come close. He feared no one ever would. And he really didn’t want to think about that.
He drank that night.
Satoru didn’t drink often. His tolerance was unfairly low, and he only needed to be two drinks in before the room would start to spin—which is far more disorienting when your perception ranged 360o with a 500-meter-wide radius. But he didn’t have plans to be anywhere besides in his bed staring at the ceiling.
He shut off his phone—he’d be useless anyways, and if he was needed that badly, Yaga could come drag him out of bed himself—and just let himself mope until he fell asleep.
He slept like shit and woke up with a killer migraine. He stumbled his way out of bed to his fridge and chugged milk straight from the container as he waited for his phone to reboot. And to say his heart dropped into his stomach would be a severe understatement. He had two missed calls from the phone he’d given to Tsumiki.
“Shit.” He dropped the carton straight to the floor as he fumbled with the call back button. It rang and rang until it hit voicemail. “Fuck!”
Satoru quickly threw on a sweatshirt and jeans, stepped out of his penthouse, and warped to the Fushiguros’ apartment. Then promptly threw up on the asphalt outside. He still wasn’t used to warping, and didn’t do it unless he had to, so trying it hungover wasn’t his best idea, but he didn’t see any other option.
He’d given them both phones, but neither of them had ever called him before. He’d checked the phone statements once out of curiosity, and they’d never made any calls at all, not even to each other. For Tsumiki to call once, let alone twice, it had to be an emergency.
He ran up the stairs and knocked loudly on the door before just barging in, snapping the door chain lock without any resistance. “‘Miki, Megumi?” he called, glancing around the apartment. Nothing appeared to be out of place, but at his arrival, his Six Eyes picked up Tsumiki beginning to move in the bedroom, and Megumi staying very still.
He ran to the bedroom and opened the door.
Tsumiki was beside Megumi on his futon, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Satoru-san?”
“Hey, there you are—what’s wrong, what happened? Is Megumi okay?” Satoru asked as he looked at the spiky head of hair lying behind Tsumiki. Megumi was curled up on his side, facing the wall, and shuddering slightly in his sleep.
Tsumiki nodded, fighting back a yawn. “He’s okay, but he got sick last night, and the drugstores were all closed.” She looked up at him sheepishly, shoulders hunched forward. “I was just hoping you might’ve had some medicine, but I’m sorry for calling while you were asleep.”
Satoru’s chest ached and he shook his head. “No, I want you to call when something is wrong; I should’ve answered, I was—” was what? Wallowing in self-pity?
He didn’t get to be that irresponsible anymore; it didn’t matter that he was a teenager—he was a teenager in charge of two children now. Two kids that anything could happen to at any point in time. And he’d turned his phone off?
His cheeks flushed in shame, but he approached the bed and sat down beside Tsumiki, placing his hand on Megumi’s sweaty forehead. “Sick how? Was he throwing up?”
Tsumiki nodded. “I thought soup would make him feel better, but he couldn’t keep it down. The store should be open now though. Satoru-san, can you please stay with him while I get medicine? I promise I won’t take too long.”
That was the first thing Tsumiki had ever asked of him, and her voice was so soft and hesitant, afraid she was asking too much, afraid he would refuse. Satoru took her hand. “I’ll go. You stay with him, okay?”
“Are you sure?” she asked with wide eyes.
“I’m sure. I’ll be right back, okay?” He was already standing up and heading for the door, his head still spinning. He felt his stomach lurch with the aftereffects of the warp, but made his way back down the stairs and started jogging to the nearest drugstore. Making quick routes through the aisles, he managed to return not ten minutes later. The door was unlocked this time (he’d have to replace the lock today; this wasn’t the safest area) so he walked back inside and straight into the kitchen.
He poured the stomach medicine and fever reducer into the little measuring cups for Megumi, then grabbed a plastic cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and dropping in a Vitamin C tablet for Tsumiki. She’d spent the whole night beside her brother (since Satoru, the jackass he was, had failed to be there to tell her not to), so there was little chance she wouldn’t be getting sick next, but he’d prevent it however he could. “‘Miki, can you come here?” he called, and soon soft feet were padding towards the kitchen. He knelt down in front of her and handed her the cup.
“This is for you. It’s yucky, but it’ll help keep you from catching your brother’s bug. And you’ll need to wear a mask around him until he’s feeling better.”
She blinked at him, as if confused.
“Just some precautions, okay? I don’t want you getting sick too.”
After a pause she finally accepted the cup and drank it without the argument he knew he would have put up as a kid. But he’d been a brat, and Tsumiki was an angel. She did make a face though, her nose scrunched up in displeasure.
“I know, it’s no fun,” he sympathized. “But it beats getting sick. This one next? It’s chewable.” He handed her a zinc tablet, which she took a bit more reluctantly after having to drink the Vitamin C. “Alright, you go take a shower and wash off your brother’s germs. I’ll take care of him from here.”
Her confused expression just grew, and Satoru’s heart broke, thinking about how many times she’d had to be the caretaker for her brother without anyone to turn to. No one to tell her what to do to keep from getting sick herself.
He gave her a smile and patted her head, then grabbed the medicines he’d portioned out for Megumi and walked to the bedroom.
Megumi didn’t stir when Satoru sat down beside him, which was a bit concerning, but Satoru gave his shoulder a gentle shake until he let out a pitiful groan and tried to bury his face deeper into the pillow. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to need you to sit up for a second.”
At the sound of a man’s voice, he became significantly more lucid and muttered out, “Dad?”
Satoru grimaced. “Sorry, no,” he said gently, combing through Megumi’s damp hair. “Just me.”
Megumi flopped over in bed and looked up at him. “Satoru?” he asked, his eyes unfocused. “Where’s ‘Miki?”
“She’s just showering, she’ll be back soon. Can you sit up? I need you to take some medicine.”
“Can’t. I don’t feel good,” Megumi grumbled, curling back in on himself.
Satoru had joked before that he wasn’t sure Megumi was really a first grader—he was sharper than any six-year-old ought to be, and he made sure Satoru knew it. But right now, his age was clear. Right now, he was just a kid that needed taken care of. “I know you don’t, but this will help, I promise.”
As Megumi looked at the medicine with unfocused eyes, Satoru could see the wheels turning in his head, slowed drastically by the fever clouding his head. Eventually he decided he would trust Satoru on what was best and began struggling his way up. Once he had himself propped up slightly on his elbows, Satoru placed a hand on his back to help him sit up the rest of the way. He slouched forward in the bed, but accepted the medicine cups, drinking them down without a fuss. He must really feel terrible.
Satoru handed him a glass of water next which he held onto with both hands, sipping slowly. “Why are you here?” he asked after a while.
“Tsumiki called me last night. I didn’t see until this morning,” he swallowed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
Megumi just hummed in response, then flopped back onto his back.
Satoru brought the blanket back up around his shoulders. “Do you think you could eat rice if I made some? I know your stomach is upset, but you need to eat something today.”
After a moment of deliberation, Megumi nodded, so Satoru nodded and stood up.
“Just call for me if you need anything, I’ll be right out in the kitchen.”
Megumi was in and out of sleep all day. His fever lifted with the medicine, but hit him just as hard in the afternoon when the effectiveness ran out. It was a school day, but Satoru wasn’t going to insist that Tsumiki went to school with her brother sick at home, so the three of them camped out in front of the TV, both kids wearing masks, as Megumi shivered his way through the worst of it. He threw up again after dinner, but he seemed to feel better after that, and he was a lot more coherent by the evening.
Satoru moved Megumi’s futon out to the living room before bedtime, setting it up close to the couch so he could keep a close eye and ear on the kid overnight. (He’d also left the bedroom window open all day to air out the room so Tsumiki could sleep in there without concern of getting more exposure than she already had.) While Satoru cleaned up the dishes from the udon he’d made for dinner, Tsumiki tucked Megumi into bed out in the living room then scampered off to brush her teeth. He was just finishing up when Tsumiki came out to announce she’d finished brushing their teeth. He smiled when he saw that she was holding her stuffed zebra.
“Alright, good. I’ll keep a good eye on Megumi tonight, so you head on to bed, alright?”
Tsumiki nodded, but didn’t head immediately to the bedroom, instead she gave a small tug on Satoru’s shirt and motioned him to lean down. He wiped his hands off on the dish towel then dropped down into a crouch, “What’s up? Need me to get you water, or some—”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for all of your help today, Satoru-san,” she said, her shy smile showing off her most recent missing tooth.
He stared at her in shock for a moment, and she was gone before he’d recovered, shutting the bedroom door behind herself. Satoru just shook his head with a small laugh, then made his way back to the living room. He set a clean bucket down beside Megumi’s bed, but was optimistic that the worst of it had passed.
Of course optimism had never gotten him far.
He woke up to the sound of vomiting, and sat up immediately, clambering off the couch and down to Megumi’s side, rubbing at his back as he threw up into the bucket. He hadn’t eaten anything since the last time he’d been sick, so there was nothing but water and medicine in his stomach, and his shoulders shook as his little body heaved.
“You’re alright, let it out, but make sure you’re breathing,” Satoru instructed, and when Megumi was done, he slumped against Satoru’s side.
Then he started crying.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Satoru consoled, wrapping his arms around Megumi. “I know you’re miserable now, but you’re going to be alright. Just take a deep breath, okay?”
“I feel awful,” he sobbed into Satoru’s shirt.
“Shh, I know, I know,” Satoru shushed gently, rocking back and forth just slightly. This was what you were supposed to do for crying kids, right? While he’d been coddled in every material way, he’d also been labeled the strongest from a young age. That meant when he was sick, he had to get through it on his own—expected to stay out of sight until he could maintain the invulnerable image that he’d already garnered himself.
While he had wanted these kids to have the freedom from adult’s ruling every aspect of their life, he realized that more than that, he wanted them to have someone to turn to. Tsumiki had only called him because they hadn’t had medicine on hand. If one had been open, the eight-year-old girl would’ve chosen to walk to a drugstore in the middle of the night before calling Satoru, their benefactor. That was as clear a sign as he was going to get that he was doing something wrong when it came to these kids.
But at least in this moment, he was probably doing something right. With Satoru cradling him gently, it didn’t take long for Megumi’s sobs to turn into sniffles and for his exhausted body to drop back into unconsciousness.
As he tucked Megumi back into his bed and moved to the bathroom to empty the bucket, he resolved that he would do better—be better. They deserved more than he could give them, but at the very least, deserved his best.
He still was away on missions frequently, but if he was in town, he checked in on them. If he didn’t come to cook dinner, he was there to walk them home from school, or take them to the arcade. While it was still summer, they went to the waterpark on the weekends; as the season slipped away into fall, they started going to movies instead. And though Tsumiki hadn’t caught Megumi’s flu, when she got sick the next month, Satoru was right there as he had been for Megumi.
They still never called him for help, but they were no longer surprised when he gave it to them nonetheless. And the first time (excluding the day Megumi had been sick) that Tsumiki asked him for anything, his grin was huge—a simple: “Will you read to us?”
He’d sat down on her futon with his back against the wall, and she had quickly climbed into the spot just to his right, her chin perched on his shoulder as she read along with him. Megumi watched them from his bed across the room for the first few pages that Satoru read aloud, looking away and pretending he wasn’t paying attention each time Satoru glanced up at him. But after a while, he got out from under his covers and slinked across the room, like if he moved quietly enough, he wouldn’t draw attention to himself. Though even if that had worked, he surely would’ve gotten Satoru’s attention when he climbed into Tsumiki’s bed, and under Satoru’s left arm.
Satoru ruffled his hair, but otherwise didn’t draw any attention to his participation in their newest nighttime ritual.
That was the best way to bond with Megumi, he’d found. Not to push it, always let Megumi take the first step and never comment on it. He’d withdraw immediately if teased, but if Satoru played his cards right, Megumi would come just a little bit closer the next time. He still didn’t show any sort of liking towards Satoru like Tsumiki did, but Satoru was confident he didn’t hate him at least.
That’s why it was humorous rather than disheartening when he was met with Megumi’s dry: “What are you doing here?” when he was spotted by the school gate after class had been let out.
“Hello to you too,” Satoru said, snapping his phone closed at the familiar intonation and looking down to see Megumi standing beside him. “I finished my mission, so I came to check on you guys. I’ll cook dinner tonight too. Where’s Tsumiki?” he asked, looking around the schoolyard as he grabbed the handle on Megumi’s backpack to take it from him and throw it over his own shoulder.
“Tsumiki is staying to work on her science fair project,” Megumi answered simply, already beginning to walk back towards the apartment.
Satoru fell into stride beside him. “How are you on groceries—should we stop on the way back?”
“We have enough.”
“Stuff for me to make curry tonight?”
“Yes.”
Satoru shook his head, suppressing a smile at how curt Megumi was with him. He enjoyed the challenge of pulling conversation out of him though. “So, how was school today?”
“Fine.”
“Learn anything new?”
“Yes.”
“What did you learn?”
Megumi suddenly stopped walking. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, looking up at Satoru with a gaze that wasn’t exactly suspicious—just… confused.
“What do you mean?”
Megumi huffed slightly in frustration. “You know. Walking us to school, cooking us breakfast and dinner. Any of it. Why do you keep coming back?”
Satoru furrowed his brow, surprised. He’d thought he’d gotten past Megumi doubting his motives. “Megumi, you’re children. I’m meant to look after you.”
“But you don’t have to. We got along just fine without you. Don’t you have anywhere better to be?”
That question felt like a punch, and had enough force behind it to knock the wind out of him. Satoru swallowed.
Was that all this was? It was true, he had nowhere better to be. Shoko was busy cheating her way through a pre-med degree. Nanami had transferred from JJ Tech to a business school in Kyoto, Haibara was six feet under, Suguru—he couldn’t even bear to think about Suguru. Was he so alone—so bored he’d turned to two abandoned children to keep him company? And not just any child, but the six-year-old carbon-copy of the man who’d gutted him like a fish and left him for dead when he was a high schooler?
As terrible as it sounded… maybe. Maybe that’s how it started, at least. An obligation as well as a way to pass the time. But now? Now his back felt too light without the combined weight of two backpacks. Now nights spent in his apartment felt too dark without the shine of a nightlight spilling out from underneath the door of the children’s bedroom. Now when he cooked for just himself, he had to bite his tongue when he felt the urge to call, ‘Dinner’s ready!’
He slowly lowered himself into a crouch, making himself eye level with Megumi. “Do you not want me around?” he asked cautiously, afraid of what the answer might be.
“I didn’t say that,” Megumi snapped back.
“Okay.” Satoru nodded, and thought on his words for a moment. “Megumi, I know I don’t have to look out for you. I know you and your sister are capable of making it on your own. But I want to. I care about you, and I want to make your lives easier.”
“But you won’t! You’ll end up making it worse.”
“Why do you think that?” Satoru asked gently, sensing he had to tread carefully here. And he was right. Megumi stomped his foot on the ground in a sudden tantrum.
“Because! Because you won’t stay! No one ever stays—and Tsumiki likes you now so when you leave she’ll be sad, and all I care about is her being happy and you’re going to ruin it when you decide we aren’t worth your time! Just like Dad did!” he blurted out, his eyes growing glassy in the first real show of non-fever-induced emotion Satoru had seen from him, and on instinct, Satoru dropped from his crouch and onto his knees, and reached forwards to pull Megumi into a hug.
He expected Megumi to pull away, but he just froze, and after a long moment asked: “What are you doing?”
“Megumi, I’m not going to leave. I can’t promise I’ll always be around; I have to travel for my missions, and I have a lot of Jujutsu responsibilities. But I promise I’ll always come back.”
“You can’t promise that. Even if,” he said that word with skepticism, “you want to keep coming back, you can’t promise you will.” Even at his age, he understood the dangers of the Jujutsu world, so when Satoru laughed, he pulled back from the hug with a glare.
“Kiddo, I’m just about the only person who can promise that. I’m the strongest, remember?”
Megumi was looking at his face, trying to see if he was being serious, so Satoru took off his sunglasses so Megumi could look him in the eye.
“I promise, okay?” he reiterated, and he held out his pinky finger.
Megumi maintained his glare, but his bottom lip trembled slightly when he leaned forward and hooked his pinky around Satoru’s.
“Good,” Satoru said with a smile. “Now let’s get you home, huh?” He rocked back onto his heels then stood up, leaning down to brush the dirt off of his knees. He’d only made it a few steps before he felt a small hand grab onto his. His heart rose into his throat but he didn’t look down. He just gripped Megumi’s hand back, and dragged him into the first convenience store they passed by to buy him a popsicle, and a non-meltable snack for Tsumiki.
Tsumiki didn’t win the science fair, but she did get a perfect grade on her project. Satoru took them out for a celebratory meal; and after appetizers, dinner, and dessert, the kids could hardly keep their eyes open, even though there had been enough sugar in their lemonades to kill a horse.
“Alright, hop on,” Satoru said, crouching down with his back to Megumi so the kid could climb on his back, which he did without the moment’s hesitation Satoru had been expecting. He wrapped his legs around Satoru’s waist and looped his arms around his neck. “Don’t choke me,” he told Megumi, then looked to Tsumiki, “Your turn, Tsumiki-hime,” he said with a grin, and held his arms out to carry her princess-style. She giggled in delight and let him pick her up as well.
Satoru stood up with a grunt. It wasn’t exactly effortless with upwards of 100 pounds of deadweight—but he was also pleased that they’d both managed to put on weight since finances were no longer their concern. They’d been far too thin when he’d first found them.
It wasn’t too far of a walk to their apartment, and all the way Satoru kept up mindless chatter with the both of them, trying to keep Megumi from falling asleep and letting go of his neck.
He made a big show of struggling to carry them both up the stairs, but didn’t set them down until they reached the door, and Tsumiki unlocked the door with her key.
As the two of them stepped inside, they looked back at Satoru.
“Are you going to stay the night?” Tsumiki asked. Her voice was even, but the look in her intelligent eyes was hopeful.
“Yeah, I can stay,” he answered, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
Megumi looked up at him. There was something like trust in his expression. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore,” Megumi said, and Tsumiki nodded enthusiastically before running to the hall closet and opening it. There was a new futon folded neatly and tucked into the shelves. Satoru felt a knot forming in his throat.
“When did you get that?” he asked, quieter than he had meant to.
“Last week. We saved up our allowance,” she said proudly.
Satoru’s heart sank into his stomach. Futons weren’t cheap. If they were still buying enough groceries to feed themselves properly—and so help him, they better have—they must’ve been saving up for months. Likely since the first time Satoru had stayed the night.
Megumi was still next to Satoru, so as Satoru walked forward, he placed his hand on Megumi’s back to lead him over to his sister, where Satoru then knelt in front of the both of them. He pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head and placed a hand on each of their cheeks.
“Tsumiki, Megumi, I never want you to do that again,” he said, his voice firm as he looked between the two of them. Tsumiki’s face fell instantly, and Megumi’s had returned to his usual blank stare. “That allowance is for you. For food and school supplies and toys or games. And if it’s ever not enough, just tell me. Anything you want, I’ll make sure you have. But do not spend that money on me. Not ever, okay?”
Tsumiki, well-behaved and sweet Tsumiki who’d been taking care of herself and her brother for far too long, hadn’t been scolded in ages—there hadn’t been anyone to scold her in ages. And even as gentle as Satoru had been, she began to tear up. “S—sorry,” she said immediately. “I’m sorry, Satoru-san. You’ve done so much for us, we just… we just…” she sniffled.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he soothed, quickly pulling her into a hug. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, and he began running his hand up and down her back. “You’re not in trouble. It was very thoughtful of you. But I take care of you. Not the other way around. Okay?”
He waited for Tsumiki to nod before he looked back to Megumi and repeated “Okay?”
Megumi looked down at his hands, hiding his eyes from Satoru, but he nodded as well.
“Good,” Satoru said, clearing his throat. “Now go get washed up and brush your teeth. I’ll set up the futon and we’ll read a book together.”
Tsumiki tightened her arms around his neck for a moment, but then stepped out of his hug and began to follow Megumi to the bathroom.
Satoru stood back up and watched them walk away, but before they could turn the corner, he called, “Kids?” When they turned back to look at him, he gave them a gentle smile. “Thank you both.”
That brought back Tsumiki’s smile, even if it was a bit watery, and Megumi’s stony expression cracked as well, his cheeks turning just the slightest bit pink.
It didn’t take long for him to lay out the futon, and he fell back onto it. It was definitely more comfortable than the couch, but he’d already made up his mind: he wouldn’t be using it for long. When the bath began to run, he pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Yaga? I need a favor.”
“Kids! Breakfast!” he called from the kitchen as he set out three bowls of miso soup. They began to stir and ambled their way to the kitchen slowly, probably still feeling the effects of their sugar crash from the night before. Tsumiki gave him a quick hug when she stepped into the kitchen, mumbling a tired, “Good morning,” and Megumi sat straight down and began eating his rice.
Satoru and Tsumiki sat down as well, and Tsumiki began to eat, but Satoru sat with his hands folded together on the table. Megumi noticed after a few minutes. “Why aren’t you eating? Are you sick?” he asked bluntly and Satoru gave him a small laugh and shook his head.
“No, I just wanted to ask you both something first.” He had both of their attention, even if Megumi was still eating, he was glancing up at Satoru between each bite. Satoru cleared his throat. “Your school term will be ending next month,” he began, but hesitated.
“That’s not a question.”
“Megumi, hush,” Tsumiki scolded. Megumi stuck his tongue out at her, and Satoru chuckled despite his nerves.
“Your school term is ending,” he said again. “It would be a good time to transfer schools, if you were open to it.”
Tsumiki and Megumi shared a look of confusion, and Tsumiki asked, “Why would we need to transfer?”
“Well, if you were to move, you’d be in a new school district. For example…” His throat was dry. Why was this so hard? “If you were to come live with me.” He didn’t look at their faces, since he didn’t want to lose courage. “Principal Yaga would be able to set me up in one of the on-campus houses reserved for teachers. It would be within the Jujutsu High barrier, so it would be a safe place for Megumi to learn his technique. And there would be capable sorcerers nearby when I’m away on missions.”
He finally looked up at them and saw them both watching him. Megumi was no longer eating. Satoru couldn’t read either of their expressions.
“Would you be a teacher?” Tsumiki asked and Satoru blinked, not expecting that to be what she took away from the conversation.
“Not exactly. I did agree to leading combat training for the students a few times a week,” he replied, still waiting for their answer.
They looked between each other again, then back to him, and finally Megumi spoke up: “You still haven’t asked a question.”
Satoru laughed at that. “Yeah okay. Megumi, Tsumiki, do you want to come live with me?”
Immediately, Tsumiki was out of her chair and barreling into his chest, her arms tight around his neck. Satoru was even quicker to hold onto her in return. She nodded repeatedly, already beginning to sniffle. Satoru wanted to comfort her, but he hadn’t won this battle yet—Megumi was still seated and staring at him. His eyes were searching Satoru’s for any crack, any hesitation. “Do you really mean it?” he asked.
“I really, really mean it, Megumi,” Satoru said, and surprised even himself with how sincerely he could speak the words.
Megumi hesitated for a moment longer, then got off of his chair and walked over to Satoru as well. He wasn’t about to initiate a hug, but when Satoru held out his non-Tsumiki-occupied arm, Megumi didn’t fight it when he was pulled in.
“I’ll still have to travel frequently for missions,” Satoru told them, pulling back a bit so he could meet their eyes. “I’m still going to be away a lot. But when I come home, it’ll always be to you.” He wiped Tsumiki’s cheek dry with his thumb, then looked at Megumi and held out his pinky, ready to re-up his promise. “Alright?”
Megumi locked their pinkies together once more. Satoru pressed a quick kiss to the top of Megumi’s head before he could be batted away, then placed another on Tsumiki’s before shoving them gently back to their own seats. “Now eat up, okay? You don’t want to be late for school.”
He wished he could give them more than a promise to always come home, but he wouldn’t promise more than he could give. They’d been let down enough in their short lives. He’d just try to make sure that what he could give would be enough.