Chapter Text
One might think that finding a birthday present for a wealthy man like Gojo Satoru would be challenging, considering how he appears to have everything he needs, and how easily he can get anything he sets his eyes on. He’s rich enough that buying a luxury apartment wouldn’t even put a dent in his wallet, so what could anyone possibly give him that would be valuable to him?
Perhaps that’s a valid concern when it comes to an average billionaire, but with Satoru, Megumi knows that simplicity is the key. All he needs to do is pretend like he’s searching for a gift for a child, and his dad will be easily pleased. Satoru’s eccentric nature, playful demeanor, and whimsical cravings makes shopping for him surprisingly easy. Over the past couple years, his list of presents included a massive box of his favorite sweets, Sailor Moon’s first volume, and a vintage Tamagochi.
But despite knowing exactly the type of gift he wants to purchase for his dad, Megumi quickly realizes that finding the perfect item is proving more difficult than he first thought it would be. Every store he visits seems to lack that one thing he’s looking for—something that would catch his eyes, something that wouldn’t end up gathering dust in some hidden corner of the house.
With an exhausted sigh, Megumi puts a box of Pokemon cards back on the shelf, glancing at Tsumiki.
“What did you get him?”
“The Lego tuxedo cat.”
“Dammit,” Megumi mutters under his breath, feeling frustrated for not thinking about it sooner. It’s the perfect choice for Satoru. With no doubt, he would likely give the toy a ridiculous name, and put it on a display somewhere where he could admire it every time he walks by.
“Why are you being so worked up about this?” Tsumiki asks with a confused, but concerned frown. “You know that he’s going to be happy no matter what you get him.”
“I don’t care,” Megumi huffs. “I just don’t want to give him something useless.”
Tsumiki hums in disbelief. “Uh-huh. You sure sound like you don’t care,” she says, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Are you feeling guilty for forgetting about his birthday?”
“I didn’t completely forget about it,” Megumi clarifies, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “It just slipped my mind for a moment. I’ve had a lot on my plate.”
Slowly, Tsumiki’s lips curl up into a sly smile, seizing the opportunity she’s been clearly waiting for ever since last night.
“I bet your roommate keeps you very occupied.”
Megumi averts his gaze, eyes drifting towards the rows of Funko figures on the shelves. He knew this was coming. Honestly, he's surprised his sister didn’t bring it up earlier.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Megumi replies, feigning ignorance.
“Don’t play dumb,” Tsumiki says, stepping closer to him in the bustling store. “You seriously think I don’t know there’s something going on between you two? Please. The tension was so thick yesterday that I seriously considered heading back out into the icy streets rather than spending another second in that awkwardness.”
Megumi feels his cheeks warming up, but he stands his ground. “My apologies for forcing you to endure such a hostile atmosphere. I hope you survive the trauma.”
Tsumiki rolls her eyes, but her amused smile still lingers. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise I won’t need therapy after witnessing just how much you can humiliate yourself in front of your crush.”
Megumi’s face flush brighter with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. “I did not humiliate myself. And I don’t have a crush.”
“Is that why you’re acting like a blushing teenager?”
“I’m not blushing,” Megumi protests, huffing out a breath. “Look, I don’t know what kind of delusions you have, but there’s nothing between me and Yuji.”
“Then why did you spend the night in his room?”
Megumi’s heart skips a beat at his sister’s question. It feels as if a bucket of ice-cold water had suddenly been dumped on him, and his mind races for a response, a believable excuse. “I…”
“Save it,” Tsumiki interrupts, pinning Megumi down with her knowing gaze. “I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and unless you can shapeshift into a very hissy orange cat, it wasn’t you sleeping on the couch.”
Megumi opens his mouth, words failing him for a moment, before he finally manages to let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, fine, I slept in his room. But it doesn’t mean anything, okay? That couch is too small.”
Tsumiki hums, pressing her lips together as she struggles to stifle a smile. “Ah, yes, I see. Poor you, who used to throw a tantrum whenever I even dared to glance at your room’s doorway, forced to spend the night in your cute roommate’s bed because the couch was just so tiny. Makes sense. Definitely no other reason.”
Megumi scowls. “Shut up. It’s not like that. We were just talking, and then we went to sleep.”
“Oh, really? Then I suppose those hickeys on your neck just materialized out of nothing. You might want to consult a medical professional about that. I don’t know, you’re the med student.”
Unconsciously, Megumi tugs at his black scarf, pulling it up higher to cover the incriminating evidence. He scoffs and looks away, feeling flustered and angry by Tsumiki’s relentless teasing.
“Besides,” she goes on, and Megumi braces himself for another punch in the gut. “The walls in your apartment are very thin. I’ve heard a lot more than I wanted to last night… and this morning.”
As Megumi processes Tsumiki’s words, the realization sinking in, his face turns an even deeper shade of red. He tries to respond, but all that comes out is an embarrassed stutter. Eventually, he manages a simple,
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Oh, come on.” Tsumiki steps closer, shaking him by his shoulders. “I’m your sister. Who else are you going to discuss this with, if not me?”
“No one, preferably.”
Tsumiki sighs. “Don’t be so shy. You’re going to be a doctor, so you should learn how to talk about these things.”
And there it is—the perfect opportunity to change the subject. Megumi latches onto it so fast he almost trips over his own words as they spill out of him in a rush.
“I’m not going to be a doctor. I’m quitting med school.”
Tsumiki’s eyes go almost comically wide. She looks as if she just got slapped right in the face, and Megumi would laugh if he wasn’t still so damn embarrassed.
“Woah, wait. Are you really quitting med school, or is this just a desperate attempt to dodge the conversation about your… situationship?”
Megumi bites his tongue against the urge to insist that what’s going on between him and Yuji is not a situationship (or… is it?). He doesn’t really want to talk about his education either, but he’d take discussing that any day over the tangled mess of his love life.
“I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
That, at least, is not a lie. Megumi has had second thoughts about med school ever since the first semester, and while there were days when he managed to push his doubts aside, most of the time it caused nothing mystery. When Megumi clawed his way out of the abyss that was his high school days, he promised himself that he would never sink so deep again—only to teeter on the edge years later, inches from falling right back into the same pit. It’s even worse that this time, he had practically walked right into that hole himself, willingly tumbling back into the dark depths he had once struggled to escape.
Yuji was right, after all—the solution to Megumi’s struggles is right there, easy to grasp. All he needs to do is to find the courage to reach for it and pull himself back onto solid ground.
You’re the only one who can actually put an end to this.
Just quit.
It’s not worth it.
Tsumiki nods slowly, wide-eyed. “Okay…” she says, her voice now gentler. “Why?”
“Because I hate it,” Megumi answers flatly, too exhausted to sugarcoat it. “I feel like it consumes me, it sucks all the joy out of my days, and I’m sure as hell that I don’t want to devote the rest of my life to it. I just… I don’t think I want the kind of commitment that comes with being a doctor.”
Tsumiki’s gaze softens with understanding. “Yeah. That makes sense,” she says quietly. It’s more than a little weird talking about something like this in the middle of a toy store, but Megumi knows he would feel trapped if they were alone in a quiet room instead. Better to rip the band-aid off now. “The older I get, the more thankful I am for finding a job that I actually enjoy doing. And I have less and less patience for dealing with people or situations that only make my life harder, so… I get it.”
A small smile tugs in the corner of Megumi’s lips. If his sister had any flaws, then it was that she often let people walk all over her. She used to seek validation and love from places she would only get the opposite, and Megumi is glad she’s learning to stand up for herself.
“Did you tell our parents?” Tsumiki asks, making Megumi’s smile falter, which answers her question. “Megumi… you have to tell them.”
“I know, I just…” Megumi pauses, heaving a sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint them. Do you remember how happy they were when I passed the entry exams?”
Tsumiki shakes her head. “They were happy because they thought you wanted this. But do you really think that they would want you to keep going if they knew how miserable it makes you?”
“No,” Megumi answers quietly, leaning his temple against the shelf stacked with Pokemon plushies. “I don’t think they would. That doesn’t mean I can stop feeling guilty about it.”
“Well, one more reason to talk to them. It’ll help.”
Megumi nods. “I will. Just not today—it’s Satoru’s birthday.”
“And then next week you’ll say it’s almost your birthday, then it’s Christmas, then it’s New Year’s Eve, and then you’ll say you need to finish your exams, and while you’re at it, you’ll sign up for the next semester…” Tsumiki says, offering a sympathetic smile. “I understand that it’s not going to be an easy conversation, but we both know that if you don’t do it now, you’ll just keep avoiding it.”
Megumi scoffs. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” Tsumiki laughs, ruffling up his hair. They’re both quiet for a bit, before she adds, “But… seriously. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Megumi replies after a moment of hesitation. Everything seems to be happening so fast all of sudden, and normally it would freak him out, but talking things out with Yuji made his shoulders feel much, much lighter. He’s been carrying this struggle for years, and seeing a way out for the first time feels like letting go of an ache he didn’t even realize he had. “I’m okay. Now let’s get back trying to find something for dad.”
Megumi does his best trying to hold a conversation with Tsumiki. He asks her about her job as a tour guide, places she visited during the past couple months, foods she tried—anything so she wouldn’t go back interrogating him about Yuji. It seems to be working well, because she doesn’t bring the topic up again, but Megumi still feels constantly on the edge. The relief that washes over him once they’re at home is short-lived, because as soon as the two step into the apartment, Megumi is confronted with the other source of his headache.
If Megumi didn’t know his roommate better, he would think last night didn’t affect him at all. Yuji laughs and talks as if nothing happened, joining the siblings in the living room while they pack everything out of their bags. He rambles about the Digimon figure Megumi chose for his dad and grins as he picks up the fluffy socks Tsumiki got for herself, giving them a little squeeze and threatening to steal them while she sleeps. He’s chatty during lunch and listens attentively to Tsumiki’s stories about her trips, but there are subtle signs that give him away.
Like how his smile melts off the moment it’s quiet, left alone with his own thoughts. His laugh rings strange, like an instrument slightly out of tune. Yuji picks at his food instead of devouring the entire bowl like he usually does, keeps fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie when there’s nothing in his hands to keep them busy, and doesn’t hum whatever annoying song currently stuck in his head while he washes the dishes.
The sight of Yuji, quietly struggling, makes guilt gnaw at Megumi’s stomach. He could say that it’s both of their fault, but it was Megumi who initiated things between them, and as much as he wants to blame it on the heat of the moment, there was nothing rushed or impulsive in what happened last night… and this morning, as Tsumiki so kindly pointed it out. Even now, hours later, Megumi’s stomach flutters remembering the tender, slow way in which Yuji’s curious hands mapped out every inch of him, his own lips exploring Yuji’s warm skin with the same gentleness. Each touch and each kiss was deliberate, careful, giving instead of demanding, savoring every moment as if they both wanted to engrave it into their memories.
Megumi couldn’t pinpoint when he’s fallen so hard for his roommate—not because he never noticed the signs of his growing feelings, but rather because he simply can’t remember a time when Yuji didn’t take up such a great space in his heart. Was there even anything in those bleak, deserted ventricles, back when they didn’t know each other? Yuji eased his way into that vacant spot effortlessly, growing stronger and filling up every corner, until Megumi’s heart nearly burst with just how much love and joy Yuji brought to his life.
And Megumi simply cannot bear the thought of losing someone so gentle, so genuine.
“Are you coming with us?”
Megumi is yanked out of his thoughts when he hears his sister’s voice. The three of them stand in the kitchen while Yuji washes the dishes, Tsumiki puts away the clean plates and cutlery, and Megumi busies himself with making coffee. The girl’s chatter filled the room, but Megumi zoned long minutes ago.
“Oh, no,” Yuji replies with a small laugh, seemingly surprised by the question. He shrugs and rinses the last glass off, keeping his eyes on the task. “It’s a family thing, so I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t,” Tsumiki reassures him, subtly elbowing Megumi in the ribs. He sends his sister a chilly glance, which she doesn’t even notice, likely long immune to it.
Megumi doesn’t intend to join the conversation. He knows Yuji would like to come, and a part of Megumi wants him there too, but he knows things are going to get even more awkward once his overbearing dads start being nosy. Megumi would hate himself for outright telling Yuji to stay at home when he already has that kicked puppy look on his face, so he stays quiet, and hopes for the best.
Until Yuji glances up and catches his eyes with a silent question.
“Our parents would be happy if you were there.”
“And would you?”
The words sound almost sharp, but Yuji’s gaze is soft. Megumi didn’t expect such a direct question. The kitchen seems awfully quiet, the warm cup heavy in his hands, and Megumi wishes his sister would help him out of this impossible situation. Tsumiki, however, just hides behind her own coffee, sipping the drink slowly while kicking Megumi’s feet, urging him to answer.
“Yes,” he replies, gentle but firm, because how could he ever say no to Yuji? “I’d be happy too.”
A slow but bright smile stretches across Yuji’s face, but it’s Tsumiki who speaks up,
“Great! I think we can leave soon,” she says, taking another sip of her drink. “I’ll just pack my things.”
“You’re sleeping at home tonight?”
Tsumiki nods. “Yes. I wouldn’t want you to spend another night on that small, uncomfortable couch.”
Well, Megumi thinks, doing his best to avoid glancing at Yuji, I walked right into that one.
Megumi tries to appear calm and composed, but he feels like he could throw up at any given second. He’s been quiet on the way to his parents’ house, speaking only when someone asked him a question and even then, he said very little. It’s just too much—more than he thought he could deal with, apparently. Why does everything have to happen all at once? He can’t even resolve one issue before another comes crashing down.
“Damn. This is where you grew up?” Yuji asks as the three of them walk through the front gates, looking at the house in awe. Megumi’s dads couldn’t seem to agree on whether they should live in a modern or more traditional home, eventually ending up building the perfect mix of the two.
Megumi doesn’t say anything, feeling a constant lump in his throat. He lets Tsumiki answer, getting lost in his own thoughts while they walk up to the door. Once they’re close enough, Megumi can hear his dogs barking with excitement inside, and he can hardly make one step into the house before he’s nearly knocked off his feet. As they relentlessly pounce on him, Megumi eventually gives in and sits down on the floor, allowing them to shower him with their overjoyed affection.
Tsumiki gets pretty much the same treatment, and while Shiro and Kuro sniff at Yuji curiously first, they’re eager to play with him, too. Which is weird, considering they’re usually more wary of strangers.
“Someone’s very happy to see you.”
It’s Suguru, leaning against the wall with a small smile on his lips. Without hesitation, Tsumiki jumps to her feet and promptly dashes into his arms, enveloping him in a tight embrace.
“Satoru?”
“At the studio,” Suguru replies from above Tsumiki’s head. “Probably still torturing his students. He should be home soon.”
The lively excitement of the entrance hall doesn’t fade much once they move into the living room. Yuji takes his time apologizing multiple times for interrupting the small family reunion, while Suguru keeps reassuring him that he’s more than welcomed. As they slowly settle down, an overwhelming sense of nervousness creeps its way back up Megumi’s throat. He stands idly, jaw clenched, sweating under this damned turtleneck he has to wear so his dads wouldn’t interrogate him the same way his sister did.
“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, stepping closer to Megumi. Tsumiki disappears in her bedroom to drop off her luggage and to fish out Satoru’s present, while Yuji crouches on the ground to shower the dogs with bellyrubs and praises. “You seem tense.”
Megumi hesitates, avoiding direct eye contact, gaze focusing on Yuji instead. He’s tempted to brush the question off, to reassure Suguru that everything is fine, but the intense emotions swirling within him prove to be too much to suppress for much longer.
“Just… a lot on my mind,” Megumi mutters, before he takes a deep breath. “But I’d like to talk to you later.”
There it is. Megumi felt like he had to say something to let Suguru know that there is something going on—this way, he has no choice but to talk to his parents. He feels a tiny bit relieved after making the first, tiny step.
“Sure,” Suguru replies, offering a smile, but his tone betrays a hint of concern. His gaze flickers to Yuji, sensing that Megumi likely doesn’t want to discuss this with others around. “We can talk later. Is it something serious?”
Megumi hesitates again, weighing his words. “Yeah, it’s… something important,” he admits, voice unusually small despite his best efforts. “But I’m fine, I just… I want to talk about this when Satoru’s home, too.”
The worry only seems to grow in Satoru’s eyes, but he gives a nod. Right on cue, Tsumiki returns, still wearing a bright smile on her face and practically bouncing out of her skin.
“Oh, I have so much to tell you,” she says to Satoru, before glancing at her brother. “Megumi, why don’t you show Yuji around?”
Megumi’s irritation flares as he shoots a glare towards Tsumiki. The last thing he needs right now is to be left alone with Yuji, given the situation that’s weighing heavily on his mind. He hoped that at least for a couple hours, he only had to worry about one thing; instead, he’s doomed to spiral back and forth between the two.
Still, he restrains himself from voicing his thoughts, knowing it would only cause more questions, more tension, more awkwardness. He begrudgingly turns to Yuji, gesturing to him to follow him out of the room.
The atmosphere between them is charged as they make their way down the hallway. Megumi’s silence is nothing unusual, but Yuji’s is heavy, deafening, louder than any of his bright laughs. If this little house tour happened a couple weeks ago, he’d have asked so many questions, but now, he says nothing while he slowly walks a step behind Megumi.
He only perks up once they reach Megumi’s bedroom, that well-known curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Yuji steps in and takes a look around, taking in the various personal items and decorations. When Megumi moved out, he took most of his things with him, but the shelves are still stacked with books he used to read in high school, the plants that wouldn’t fit in their apartment left in the windowsill.
“Super organized. Like always,” Yuji says with a small smile, fiddling with a random novel he picked up from the shelf. It’s strange having him here, in his childhood bedroom. Megumi could likely count on one hand how many people have been in here, and that includes his parents and his sister too.
While Yuji snoops around a bit, Megumi sits down on the edge of the bed. This is the first time they’ve been alone all day and the air between them feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and unasked questions. Megumi isn’t proud of himself for leaving the way he did this morning—while Yuji was on the brink of falling back to sleep in his arms, hardly looking at him as he muttered an excuse about having to go to find a present for his dad. The memory of Yuji’s warm body against his, the scent of his hair, and his drowsy, whispered words all seem distant, while they cling to him stubbornly at the same time. It’s almost like a dream, where he’s suddenly hit with a fragment of it that instantly makes his knees go weak, but when he tries to dig deeper to remember more, the less he can actually recall.
Megumi watches Yuji, silently wishing he could just reach out, pull him close and tell him he’s sorry for all the pain he caused. He’s sorry for disappearing this morning, for letting their relationship spiral out of control, for being a constant source of trouble and heartache. For dragging Yuji into his messed up world, down into the pit he can’t seem to escape from.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
Megumi jolts as he is snapped out of his thoughts. He wants to lie and tell that he is fine, but Yuji wouldn’t believe him. Instead, he swallows his apologies, and chooses the easier path.
“Yeah. I just told Suguru I want to talk to them later.”
“About med school?” Yuji asks, sitting down next to him. Megumi thought his closeness would make him even more jittery than he already is, but instead, he feels a strange sort of comfort settle up on him, like a soothing balm on his restless thoughts.
Megumi nods. “I told Tsumiki too.”
“That’s great,” Yuji says with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re doing this.”
Megumi feels a pang of guilt as he hears Yuji’s words. He doesn’t deserve his praise, his kindness; not after all the pain he keeps causing him. He looks down, avoiding Yuji’s gaze, fiddling with a loose thread on his pants. “I just hope it goes well.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Yuji says with an easy chuckle, his hand coming up to rub Megumi’s back. The comforting touch makes his heart stutter in his chest, warming him up. A part of him aches to lean into Yuji, but the weight of his guilt presses heavily down on him, making him want to swat his arm away and maybe even shout at him for getting so close. Instead of doing either, Megumi remains still, his shoulders tense and his body rigid. “You know, anyone who cares about you, even just a little, won’t give a damn about unimportant things like what school you go to. It doesn’t matter. We just want you to be happy.”
Megumi knows Yuji is right, that his dads only want the best for him, but the nagging voices in his head still whisper doubt, taunting him with the fear of disappointing them.
“I know. It’s just… still a big decision.”
Yuji nods in agreement. His hand rests between Megumi’s shoulder blades a moment longer, before he finally pulls back. The absence of this touch makes Megumi feel equally relieved and yearning for more.
“It is. But I’ll be here to help you, okay?” Yuji asks, bumping his shoulder into his. “Whether you want me around or not.”
Megumi shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Who wouldn’t want you around?”
Yuji grins and leans back onto his hands. “You’re so right. I’m a catch, and you better not forget that. You’ve got a tough competition, so you better up your game to keep me.”
Megumi rolls his eyes and tries to brush the remark off, but his expression turns more serious fast. The words just hit too close to home, even though that was surely not Yuji’s intention. He tries to mask his discomfort, not wanting Yuji to see how much the thought of losing him really bothers him, how scared he is of being replaced—but Yuji, like always, sees right through him.
“Hey,” he says gently, sitting up straight. “You know I was just joking, right? When it comes between you and anyone else in the world… there’s really no competition.”
The weight of Yuji’s words hangs heavily in the air between them. His voice is sincere, each syllable ringing with the truth that he means what he says; and yet, knowing that Yuji would choose him over anyone else, both comforts and cuts him. Megumi never dared to admit to himself how much he longed for this kind of love, and now that he has it, the weight of it feels almost too much to bear.
“You really shouldn’t say things like that,” Megumi says then, his voice small.
Yuji frowns. “Why not?”
“Because,” Megumi starts, trying to get the words out through the lump in his throat. He tries to remember when was the last time he cried in front of someone else, but the memory seems too distant. “Because you shouldn’t make promises like that. You don’t know what’s going to happen in the future.”
“Yeah, I don’t, but I know what I want now. I know how I feel,” Yuji says as gently as possible, but there’s an unfamiliar edge in his tone. “Megumi, do you really think I’m going to just wake up one day and decide I don’t want you anymore?”
Megumi winces at the sharpness in Yuji’s voice. The thought has crossed his mind more than once, but he doesn’t want to admit it. Instead, he shrugs, still refusing to look Yuji in the eye. “People change.”
“They do, but not that easily,” Yuji replies, heaving a sigh. “Megumi, I’m tired of pretending I don’t have feelings for you, and I’m tired of you pretending you don’t know that I do. You know me. Do you really think that I’d be capable of throwing you away like trash, or do you just think that what’s between us is so insignificant that I could just change my mind by tomorrow?”
Megumi finally looks up at Yuji, his expression conflicted. He can see the hurt in his warm brown eyes, and it stings.
“I know you wouldn’t. I’m just being realistic.”
“Realistic,” Yuji echoes, the frustration clear in his voice. “I’m trying to say this as gently as I can. You’re a control freak.”
Megumi scoffs at him. “I’m not.”
Yuji can’t help a bitter smile at Megumi’s protest. “Yes, you are. You always need everything to be neat and organized, you plan everything ahead,” he starts, and Megumi wants to interrupt him, but Yuji quickly continues, “That’s why you went to med school too, right? Even though you never wanted to be a doctor in the first place, you just needed something safe, something you knew you’d have control over. You have to have everything under control all the time, and if things are not going your way, you get all riled up.” Yuji pauses, shaking his head. “You’re trying to push me away because that’s easy, something you know how to handle, and something that you decide to do. But letting me in, letting someone take care of you… that scares you.”
Yuji’s words knock the air out of Megumi’s lungs. He’s hit the nail too precisely, exposing Megumi’s fears in a way that leaves him feeling naked. He wants to argue, to lash back, but he can’t find the words.
After a long silence, he manages to ask,
“And why would you want to be with such a control freak?”
All the frustration seems to vanish from Yuji’s face at the question. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer. “Maybe because the said control freak is the person I’m in love with, and I don’t mind his ridiculous need to always be in charge of everything… as long as I can watch over him when he finally decides to let me in.”
Megumi’s breath hitches and his heart swells as he absorbs Yuji’s confession. The steady rhythm of his heart speeds up, a wild thumping that resonates through his entire body. For a moment, all the walls he’s carefully built up around himself seem to crumble. Yuji’s words are so simple, so plain and so sincere—as if loving Megumi was the easiest thing in the world. As if he’s always done it and always will do it, without a thought, without hesitation.
Distantly, Megumi hears fast footsteps padding down the hallway. He barely has time to glance up at the door when he sees Tsumiki poking her head in,
“He’s here!”
With that, she disappears, bursting the little bubble Megumi was hiding in with Yuji only moments ago. He can feel the blood rushing in his ears as he stands up hastily, his heart still racing. Megumi gives Yuji an apologetic look, who only waves and shakes his head.
“It’s fine. We can talk later.”
Megumi nods, fighting down the urge to pull Yuji into a bone crushing hug. He takes a deep breath instead, steeling himself as he heads towards the door and walks out, hoping he doesn’t look as much of a mess as he feels. There’s already loud cheering echoing through the house as they walk down the hallway, and as the two of them enter the living room, they find Tsumiki there, squeezing Satoru in a tight embrace. His blue eyes light up as he sees Megumi approaching, his voice trembling.
“Aww, all my babies are here!” he exclaims, immediately moving in for a hug, but stopping short when he sees Megumi’s flushed cheeks. Satoru touches his face, his concern growing. “Why are you so red? Are you feeling sick?”
Megumi avoids eye contact, his mind still foggy. “I’m fine. Just a little hot.”
“Why don’t you change out of this turtleneck, then?” Satoru asks, reaching out to tug at the neck of Megumi’s black sweater. He quickly ducks away before his dad could pull on it, silently swearing while he smoothes the garment out.
“Satoru, stop bothering him,” Suguru chides him, stepping closer. “They came home to celebrate you.”
“Ah, you’re so right. Where are my presents?”
Tsumiki laughs and rolls her eyes, grabbing the wrapped box from the coffee table. Feeling relieved that the attention shifted away from him, Megumi takes a step back, while Yuji’s reassuring hand rests on the small of his back. It’s brief, but it’s more than enough to settle his nerves. He gives Yuji a thankful smile, before returning to watch as his dad tears the box open like a child.
“The Tuxedo Cat?!” Satoru’s face lights up even more as he frees the box, holding it up. “The Tuxedo Cat. Tsumiki, this is perfect,” he says, hugging the girl close one more time. “Thank you so much. You really know me the best.”
Tsumiki chuckles, unable to resist the infectious excitement that radiates off of him. She smiles, clearly satisfied with her choice of gift. “You’re welcome, dad. I knew you’d love it.”
“This is from me and Yuji,” Megumi says as Tsumiki pulls back, grabbing his present. “Happy birthday.”
Satoru’s eyebrow quirks up as he takes the box, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes. “A joint gift from the two of you? I wasn’t aware you two had gotten so close.”
Megumi feels his cheeks heat up. He’s been really digging his own grave all day. “It’s just a gift.”
“Just a gift. How sweet—” Satoru starts, but he cuts himself off with a loud gasp when he tears the wrappings off, revealing the large Digimon figure underneath. “Suguru. Suguru. Are you seeing this?”
“Yeah, I am.” Suguru shakes his head, but smiles anyway, that loving sparkle in his gaze never faltering.
“I can’t believe you got me something so cool,” he says, holding the present close like it was some kind of treasure, before pulling both Megumi and Yuji into a hug. “Best birthday ever. You almost make me forget how old I’m getting.”
His excitement might appear exaggerated to some, but Megumi understands the depth behind his overdramatic joy. It’s not just about a few silly gifts; it’s about the presence of his loved ones, gathered together to celebrate his special day. There are parts of his dad’s past that Megumi doesn’t fully understand, but he has gathered enough to know that Satoru’s childhood wasn’t easy. And that’s why moments like these are so precious to him.
Megumi feels something inside him crack, a warm feeling seeping through his heart. There’s a strange, almost aching sensation welling up inside of him as he realizes that he’s a part of this moment—a part of this family, this celebration, this unconditional love he never thought he could ever experience. Too many times when Megumi was younger, he felt like an outsider watching his dads and Tsumiki interact, never really feeling like he belonged there. It took him fifteen years and a grown man crying with a lego cat tucked under his arm to realize he’s also an important piece of the puzzle.
“Cake!” Satoru yells as he pulls back, seemingly unaware the storm that rushes through inside Megumi. “I hope you got me something disgustingly sweet.”
Tsumiki chuckles and steps into the kitchen. “Don’t worry. We got your favorite.”
Megumi can only force down three small bites of the white chocolate and strawberry flavored cake, passing the rest to Yuji. His roommate has already devoured two slices, but he eagerly accepts Megumi’s plate—his stomach a bottomless pit. As Megumi watches him, the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. Despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him, he can’t help but find Yuji’s appetite somehow endearing, the way he talks animatedly with his mouth full equally gross and too damn cute.
Strangely, Megumi’s nervousness from earlier seems to quiet down. He doesn’t say much throughout the afternoon, but he no longer feels like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, either. Maybe it’s Yuji’s calming presence, who stepped into his life unexpectedly, and nestled his way into Megumi’s heart without realizing. Maybe it’s Tsumiki, who’s been an anchor to him for as long as he can remember. Maybe it’s his dads, who show him nothing but unwavering love over and over again, despite Megumi’s best efforts to reject it.
As he observes the people around him, engaged in a lighthearted conversation and laughter, a strange sense of comfort washes over Megumi. It’s an unusual feeling, a sort of inner peace he hasn’t experienced in a long time… perhaps never. Despite his usual reservations, he finds himself at ease—and for once, not wanting to escape.
Later, while Megumi’s dads settle down in the living room to build the new lego set, he joins Tsumiki and Yuji in the garden. Megumi and his sister sits on the porch while Yuji plays fetch with the dogs, his laughter almost infectious. It’s already dark and the temperature keeps dropping, but the sweet sound warms his soul up like nothing else.
“Go and talk to them.”
Megumi’s gaze shifts from his sister to the floor-to-ceiling windows and his parents inside the living room. They’re sitting close, and Megumi just catches Suguru pressing a kiss on Satoru’s temple, right before he throws a lego piece at him.
“But—”
“No excuses,” Tsumiki cuts him off. “You think I’m freezing my ass off here for fun? We just wanted to give you some privacy.”
Megumi looks at her without saying anything else, realizing there’s no use protesting. With a defeated sigh, he stands up, his movements slow while he walks back into the house. Megumi takes his time while he discards his shoes and his coat, ears ringing, a fragment of his earlier anxiety creeps back to the surface.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Suguru’s calm, but exhausted voice filters out from the living room. “This is upside down, you need to flip the whole thing over.”
Satoru groans. “I’m going to flip you over and show this piece up your—”
“Can you do that when I’m not here?”
As Megumi walks in, both his dads look up. “You want to help us?” Satoru asks. “Maybe you could tell your dad that I’m actually doing it right.”
“I give up,” Suguru says, leaning back into his armchair.
Megumi chuckles, but it sounds awfully strained. He takes a few tentative steps inside, before he sits down as far from them as he can.
“I… hoped we could talk.”
His parents straighten up—even Satoru’s usual carefree demeanour shifts into a more serious expression. It’s not everyday that Megumi initiates a conversation like this, after all.
The silence that follows his statement is heavy, filled with nervous anticipation. Megumi looks down, avoiding their gazes, before he turns his head to peek through the window instead. The sight of his sister and Yuji playing with his dogs eases him, a tiny smile twitching in the corner of his lips. It disappears fast as he looks back at his dads, who still watch him without a word, waiting for him patiently to gather his thoughts.
Megumi feels like there’s something bubbling in his queasy stomach. He can’t swallow through the lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of nausea washing over him so fast he’s sure he’s about to throw up. He definitely feels something coming, crawling its way up—
“I want to drop out of med school.”
The words hang in air, and Megumi can hardly believe he actually said them out loud. He wants to look away, but at the same time he can’t, wanting, needing to see the reaction he gets.
His dads’ expression, however, hardly change. There’s a little surprise, some realization, before they exchange a small, meaningful glance. Megumi wishes he knew the thoughts behind that one, tiny look.
It’s Satoru who speaks up first.
“Okay.”
Megumi frowns at the nonchalance in Satoru’s tone. He’d expected something more - shock, disbelief, disappointment - but the simple, straightforward “okay” catches him off guard. He searches his parents’ eyes for any sign of disapproval, but he finds none.
“What… that’s it? You’re not going to… talk me out of it?”
Satoru arches an eyebrow. “You want us to talk you out of it?”
Megumi is so thrown by his dad’s casual response that for a while all he can do is gape like a fish. “I… no. I don’t want that. I just thought you’d be upset.”
There’s a pause while Satoru and Suguru exchange another look, a silent communication passing between them. And once again, it’s Satoru who breaks the stillness of the room.
“You are a very smart kid, Megumi. Always have been. I’m assuming this isn’t something you just came up with overnight, and knowing you, you’ve probably mulled it over a hundred times before coming here.”
Suguru chimes in then, his voice soft but firm. “We trust you, Megumi. You’ve never been one to act on a whim. If you say you want to drop out, we believe that you’ve given it serious consideration.”
Megumi is still taken aback. He anticipated disappointment, disapproval. He definitely expected an argument, and lectures on responsibility and wasted potential. The fact that both of them seem nonchalantly accepting his decision feels… weird. In a good way, but still weird. They’re not shocked, they’re not angry, and the trust they put in him makes Megumi feel like he can breathe again.
“But… I don’t have any other plans,” he says quietly, guilt still lingering. “I don’t know what to do instead.”
Suguru hums. “And that’s okay. You have plenty of time to find out what you want to do.”
Satoru nods in agreement, a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, and you’ve got the luxury of having a super rich dad to support you while you figure things out.”
Despite the situation, Megumi’ lips twitch at his dad’s words. He knows Satoru is joking, but there’s a truth to it too, and Megumi knows that he’s very lucky in that matter.
Suguru smacks Satoru on the shoulder, before turning back to Megumi. “The point is, you don’t need to worry about finding a replacement right away. Take some time for yourself. We’ll be here to support you.”
For the sixtieth time that day, Megumi feels that knot in his throat again. He can’t swallow it, he can hardly even breathe, and he feels dizzy with the effort of trying to hold his tears back. Just as he thinks he regained control over the situation, Satoru stands up and walks over to him, squeezing him into a tight hug.
“Aww, don’t cry,” Satoru murmurs, rubbing Megumi’s back in soothing circles. “It’s okay.”
“I’m not—” Megumi tries to protest, but his voice catches in his throat, and the words come out as a strangled sob as tears stream down his face. He buries his face in Satoru’s shoulder, his body heaving with silent sobs. “I’m… I’m so tired.”
Megumi feels the couch dip on his left as Suguru sits down next to him, rubbing his back. “Of course you are. You’ve been carrying this around for a long time, haven’t you?”
The comforting touch of his dad grounds him, bringing him back a little from the flood of emotions. He sniffles, his head still resting against Satoru’s shoulder as he nods.
“Yeah,” he managed to get out, his voice thick with tears. “I just wanted this to work out. And I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You’ll never disappoint us,” Suguru tells him firmly. “You don’t have to force yourself to do something just to please us or live up to some expectations, okay? Your happiness is the only thing that matters to us.”
The room falls quiet for a while, only broken by Megumi’s occasional sniffles. It’s Satoru who breaks the silence; a hint of playfulness in his voice as he tries to ease the tension.
“I am a bit disappointed, though. Because you’re still not calling that cute roommate your boyfriend.”
Megumi lifts his head, swollen eyes narrowing at his dad’s remark. “Oh my God. Shut up.”
Satoru lets out a hearty laugh. “Ah, there’s my boy,” he says, pulling Megumi right back into a hug, while Suguru reaches over him to smack Satoru’s head.
“You’re insufferable,” Megumi says, while he shifts out of his dad’s embrace, drying his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. “I just told you that I’m dropping out of university, and all you care about is my love life.”
“That’s not the only thing I care about. I can multitask,” Satoru says defensively. “But the boyfriend situation is definitely more interesting.”
“There’s no boyfriend situation.”
“Yet,” Satoru adds with a cheeky grin.
“You’re annoying,” Megumi replies with an irritated sigh.
Suguru pats Megumi on the back. “Don’t get too worked up. It’s just Satoru being his usual self,” he says. Before Satoru gets the chance to interrupt, he goes on, “How are you feeling?”
Megumi takes a deep breath, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil of the night suddenly weighing heavily on him. “Tired. But… relieved, too.”
“That’s good,” Suguru replies with a small smile. “And next time you have any issues, please don’t suffer in silence. We’re always here for you, okay?”
Megumi nods, the tension he’s been holding all day slowly bleeding out of his muscles. For the first time, he truly believes that the next time he faces a challenge, he’ll be able to lean on his loved ones instead of shouldering the burden alone.
The night creeps up on them without realizing, and it’s late by the time Megumi and Yuji say their goodbyes. They had been offered to spend the night, but as tempted as Megumi is to say yes and have the comfort of his family a little longer, he knows he can’t delay his conversation with Yuji any longer.
It’s awfully quiet outside as they walk down the practically deserted street, the only sound being the soft thuds of their footsteps on the pavement. They don’t get too far before Yuji asks,
“How did it go?”
“Better than I expected,” Megumi admits, still surprised by the situation. “They were understanding, supportive. It was a lot less…” he trails off, searching for the right word.
“Chaotic?” Yuji offers with a smile, and Megumi can’t help but chuckle.
“Yeah, that. No yelling, no fighting.”
Yuji nudges him gently with his shoulder while they walk. “See? I’ve told you. Your dads are awesome, and they love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”
Megumi nods silently, giving him a thankful smile. He feels much more relaxed than before, but there’s still an issue that they need to address. His hand brushes against Yuji’s with each step they make, and neither of them make a movement to pull away. It’s cold, and Megumi’s fingers are freezing, but he doesn’t even think of hiding his hands in his pockets.
“What I’ve said about you being a control freak…” Yuji starts, breaking the silence of the night. His voice is a little uncertain, but he takes a deep breath, looking Megumi in the eye. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I know why you’re the way you are, and I understand that you’re just scared. Scared to let me in, scared to trust, scared to get hurt because you’ve been there before.”
Megumi listens to Yuji’s words, letting the weight of them sink in. Yuji never fails to hit the nail right on the head, and that terrifies him. He feels so raw and vulnerable, his stomach clenching with a strange mix of fear and relief. To be seen like this is equally scary and freeing.
“That doesn’t make me less of a control freak, does it?” Megumi asks, only half jokingly.
“No,” Yuji replies, a hint of smile on his lips. “But I want you anyway. Control freak or not.”
Megumi halts and heaves a sigh, shaking his head while he struggles to contain another flood of emotions churning inside him. Damn, he can’t cry again. “You know how messed up I am, right? You know how many issues I have?” he asks, his voice trembling despite his best effort. “And trust me, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet.”
Yuji stops as well, looking at Megumi with a mix of worry and adoration in his eyes. “I know,” he says, reaching out to interview their fingers, numb with cold. “And I’m not here to fix you. Just let me love you.”
Megumi averts his gaze, his heart fluttering wildly at Yuji’s words. He’s never been good at accepting love, or kindness, constantly second-guessing himself, feeling undeserving of such feelings. He wants this so, so bad. But he wants to keep Yuji safe more.
“I know I’m not the best at voicing my feelings, but…” Megumi starts, looking back up into Yuji’s eyes. “But I care about you. A lot. And I just can’t stomach the thought of losing you.”
“You’re not going to—”
“You can’t promise that,” Megumi cuts Yuji off before he could finish.
In answer, Yuji sighs. “Okay. You’re right, I can’t. But I can promise that if it’s up to me, I’ll never give up on you.”
“How can you be so sure?” Megumi’s voice is small, laced with a hint of desperation. “How can you be so certain that you won’t leave me? That I won’t mess up and chase you away?”
“Because I won’t let you,” Yuji says with a chuckle, squeezing Megumi’s hand tighter, before his tone turns more serious once again. “I trust you, Megumi. I know you want me in your life as badly as I do, and I know you’re willing to fight for it. If you need to take a step back and slow down, that’s fine with me. Just don’t give up.”
Yuji’s words are like a lifeline, pulling Megumi out from the shadows of his fears and doubts. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his raging thoughts. Yuji is patient, just standing there, waiting for him to say something. And in that moment, when Megumi opens his eyes again, he realizes that even if he doesn’t deserve Yuji’s love, he is damn sure that he wants it.
Megumi steps closer and lifts Yuji’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on his cold skin. “I don’t want to give up,” he says then, lowering their hands. “I can’t promise you that I won’t make mistakes, but… But I want to try. I really want to try.”
Yuji doesn’t speak for a while, his eyes never leaving Megumi’s face. There’s nothing but deep affection in his eyes, and when he finally smiles, it’s as warm as the sun, cutting through the chilly night.
“That’s all I ask for.”
As they continue their walk back home, Yuji keeps holding Megumi’s hand, their fingers tightly interlaced. The night is never quiet in this city, but everything sounds like a background noise compared to the heavy thuds of Megumi’s heart. He glances at Yuji, his flushed cheeks and his sparkling eyes, and he can’t help but smile. Megumi doesn’t know what the future holds, but he knows that he has Yuji is by his side, and that for now, it’s enough. Things seem a lot less scary with him around.