Chapter Text
Megumi was having a fine day. He woke up to his alarm without a headache, his shared bathroom was open when he needed it, and none of his classes had been overly boring or painful. It was his fourth class of the day, and as long as his day was, it wasn't too bad overall. His evenings on Tuesdays and Thursdays were filled by his mandatory "creatives" class, since the school apparently required them to graduate.
Megumi had considered his options carefully. Theatre could be interesting, but his cousin, Naoya, unfortunately tended to end up on the cast almost every show, and Megumi wanted to avoid interacting with him as much as possible. Always rambling on about 'traditional roles', family values, and whatever random shit he thought about.
Traditional art and pottery were also options, but he found himself rather intimidated by most of the art professors. They seemed nice enough, but rumor had it one of them could see your soul through your art. Literally. Megumi didn't really believe in those kinds of things, but he'd still rather not run the risk of being picked apart on a random Tuesday because the lines he drew revealed his inner psyche.
The third option was dance, and while Megumi wasn't entirely opposed to the idea since some of the techniques didn't seem too different from certain martial arts basics, he found he'd rather not be involved with their yearly flash performances. He cringed at the thought of having to wear some of the costumes he had seen the dancers in in previous years. Far too much going on for his taste.
That left only two options: choir or orchestra, and there was no way Megumi wanted other people to hear him singing. Orchestra it was then.
Gojo and Geto made him take piano lessons when he was younger. He wouldn't say he loved his stuffy old teacher who never seemed happy, regardless of how much or little he practiced, but he did enjoy hearing how the rhythms and notes slowly came together to create a beautiful piece.
Megumi had also discovered that when he was focused on his music, all the other sounds in his mind would slowly fade into the background. Frustrations in his life muted as they mixed into a tricky sixteenth note run, the stresses of his life slowly dulling, his emotions pouring into the keys rather than flooding his mind. Gojo said he could always tell how Megumi was feeling based on how he played, and while young Megumi had thought there was no way and that Gojo was just saying things because that's what he did, older Megumi realized he was right. Music was a performance after all, a reflection of himself.
When he had gotten to middle school music class, he found himself naturally gravitating towards the keyboards at the back of the room. Unfortunately, his teacher had the students rotate instruments for the first couple weeks so they could "try things out and see what they had a passion for!". Megumi had very quickly realized that he would never play a wind instrument. It wasn't that he couldn't, he just found that he'd rather not have to put his mouth on anything. The smell of metal so close to his mouth, the awareness of the water vapor suspended in his exhales, it wasn't for Megumi. He supposed floutists placed their instrument under their mouth, not on it, but he didn't really find anything that appealing about flutes.
In the end, he had gone with the familiar: keyboards. Unfortunately, Megumi had underestimated just how much that director wanted them to try out different things, and was mostly placed on some form of drum or various auxillary instrument for his first two years. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't what Megumi most enjoyed. Still, he did have to admit that the timpani had grown on him, awkward as they sometimes were.
Now, eight years later, he stood like a shadow behind the rest of the orchestra, focused intensely on tuning the embarrassingly out of tune timpani before rehearsal started. Their director, Professor Yaga, was always nice enough to give Megumi some time, but he'd rather not have the rest of the band awkwardly wait for him. Too many eyes. Too many whispers.
The tuner in his hand flashed yellow, ever so slightly flat. With the utmost care, Megumi eased his weight onto the front of his foot, eliciting a slight creaking noise from the pedal as the timpani head was pulled ever so slightly tighter.
Megumi jumped as a splash of pink appeared suddenly in his field of view, causing him to shift his weight and completely untune the timpani he had almost fully tuned, pedal clunking dully against the linoleum floor.
"Fushiguro! How are you doing today?" Itadori said with a smile so bright it could turn sunflowers.
Megumi sighed quietly to himself, taking a second to lament the now untuned timpani, before turning his attention to Itadori. "I'm fine."
"Ah, better than yesterday then." It was almost unnerving how well Itadori could tell how Megumi's day had really gone by a single, 'I'm fine.' Meanwhile, Megumi felt like he could barely read Itadori unless Itadori actually outright said how he was feeling. He was almost always smiling brightly or at least ready to crack a joke, even in the most painful situations. Megumi could still remember his shock the time Itadori had told him about absolutely flunking his calculus exam, laughing over accidentally writing that the square root of sixteen was eight.
The two were in the same organic chemistry lecture that was scheduled Monday and Wednesday, and the two had a lab together on Friday, so there was rarely a weekday the two didn't see each other. Megumi guessed that was how Itadori got so good at reading his mood from day to day, but it still made him feel oddly exposed.
"I'm excited that we get to actually focus on the fun songs today. I get so bored when Yaga just has us play the ballad. Even the keys barely play, and they normally have music for everything." Itadori pouted. Megumi couldn't help but find the expression cute.
Megumi glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had plenty of time to finish tuning, he could spend a couple of minutes chatting with Itadori. "The winds need time to work on challenging sections, so it makes sense. That said, a good vibraphone part could compliment the winds and strings pretty well."
"That's what I think!" Itadori said, with more enthusiasm than was necessary for the topic. "They never think about writing percussion into the piece until the last minute, I swear."
Megumi let out a quiet scoff. "No, I just think they don't know how to write percussion."
Itadori glanced around furtively, a playful gleam in his eye as he leaned closer towards Megumi. "Don't let Yaga hear you say that. He really likes some of those old guys."
"He can let them know I'd prefer if they actually gave us notes in a piece."
Megumi turned back to arrange the sheet music on his stand, looking at a sheet of paper with eighty two measures of rest, followed by a four measure roll, thirty-two measures of rest, and a final roll that faded into silence. Megumi did have to admit he liked the ending of the piece, but counting that many measures of rest was a pain and a half, at sixty-three BPM no less. With a sigh, he tucked that sheet music into the back of his folder, taking out the far more challenging piece they were going to start with today.
"Ooo," The voice came from so close behind him that Megumi startled, glancing back as Itadori leaned over his shoulder, close enough to rest his chin on it if he wanted to, "they really gave you some fun stuff. Hold on, is that a fivelet? How do you even count that coming out of a triplet? I thought my stuff was complicated, but this is something else."
Megumi let him ramble on for the moment, stepping awkwardly to the side in the cramped semi-circle of timpani to let Itadori take a better look at the sheet music. "It's in the weird part that Kugisaki calls the 'anarchy phrase', the one that's supposed to be dissonant and chaotic."
"Huh, I'll have to pay more attention to it." Itadori frowned, finger skimming along to the nearest numbered measure, before returning back to the more complicated section. "I've just been trying to make sure I don't miss anything myself!" Itadori gave Megumi another bright smile, eyes widening in alarm as he noticed the clock. "Shoot, Yaga'll kill me if I don't have my stuff ready when we start. Good luck on your fivelet, Fushiguro!"
Itadori gave him a parting wave as he made his way towards the back of the room with the instrument cabinet. Megumi hadn't paid much attention to Itadori's part over the past few sessions spent learning the piece, but based on the sheer number of instruments, mallets, and sticks Itadori always seemed to have to collect, Megumi assumed it must've been filled with some quick changes. He looked like he was trying to build a nest out of instruments alone by the time he had everything together. Maybe Megumi would ask to take a glance at his music sometime.
With a quiet sigh, Megumi returned to tuning the timpani. He was just finishing up double-checking everything when Yaga started class. No more time to consider anyone else's music when he had his own to actively worry about.
After a quick warm-up, they played through the entire piece (which was marginally better than the wreck it had been two weeks ago, but still left a lot to be desired). Yaga was quiet for a moment after they finished as he scribbled down a few notes, before directing them to a specific section. They drilled various parts from that piece for a while, before Yaga decided to switch pieces, deciding that a break from the chaos would be more beneficial for them than repeating the same four-bar passage until the end of rehearsal. They also didn't have the time to spend entire rehearsals on a single piece.
As always, the percussion section became a slight jumble as people switched out instruments. Megumi picked up his music folder and moved over to his personal favorite, their nice marimba. The keys were a rich brown with red undertones, the resonators a warm gold that reflected stage lights beautifully. It both looked and sounded beautiful. The school also had a second marimba, but it somehow had a few broken keys and the stand was rusting, so it was only used when absolutely necessary.
To his left was Maki on auxiliary, sorting out some of the mess that Itadori had left behind. She had initially joined the section just to spite her family, who insisted that she take choir to improve her singing for a suitor or at the very least play something more feminine. But Maki never backed down, and having found she already loved hitting things through the school's judo club, decided to join percussion. Arguably, they were very different versions of hitting things, but Megumi wasn't about to argue with his extremely buff (and intimidating) cousin. Megumi had to admit he admired her a bit, never one to waver even when her family (his extended family, he remembered with a grimace) made her life difficult.
Itadori stood on his right, quietly tapping his mallets along the deadened keys of the vibraphone in front of him. Rather, he was making an attempt at being quiet. For some strange reason, Megumi couldn't bring himself to be bothered by the sad plinking noises, even when he usually found himself casting a sharp glance at anyone else who did it. Itadori just looked like he was genuinely enjoying the action, doing it for the sake of playing rather than just doing it out of boredom. Or perhaps that was just Megumi's attempt at a justification for letting things slide when it was Itadori, rather than someone else.
Yaga spoke up again, sending them all plunging head first into their second piece, which was much simpler musically, but demanded a very specific kind of rigid structure due to its traditional roots. Just like the previous piece, Yaga had them play the whole thing, then drilled a few of the sections.
Megumi thoroughly enjoyed his part, movements flowing smoothly up and down the keyboard, feeling the rebound through his arms and relishing when he hit an especially resonant low note. It wasn't the most difficult thing he played, but it made him happy.
All too soon, Yaga wrapped class up, and instructed them on what they needed to practice, before quickly burying himself in music for his other classes, only bothering to look up at a concerningly loud clatter here or there as the students packed up. The non-music major campus band was the least of his priorities.
Itadori turned to Megumi with a grin. "Wanna go get dinner?"
Megumi frowned, considering his options for a moment. He did have some homework he needed to do tonight, but the rest he could put off for later. He also couldn't lie and say that he didn't need food. Itadori had (unfortunately) heard his stomach growling during the announcements at the end of class and also knew that Megumi didn't eat very much in the morning or between his classes due to an unfortunate moment of honestly during their third week. Most of all, Megumi honestly didn't mind hanging out with Itadori. He was certainly loud, impulsive, and sometimes gave Megumi almost unbearable second-hand embarrassment, but he was also genuine, kind, and someone who, for whatever strange reason, Megumi found himself liking.
Itadori let out a laugh, startling Megumi from his thoughts. "I'm not sure whether or not I should be concerned about how long this decision is taking."
Maki patted Itadori on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it, he just has to overthink everything first." She grabbed the vibraphone mallets from Itadori's grasp, and shoved him away from the keyboard with her shoulder (it was meant to be gentle, but Itadori stumbled a little bit in surprise). "Go clean up your mess of instruments while you're waiting for your answer."
"Alright, alright, no need to steal my mallets though."
Maki scanned Itadori up and down with a judgmental gaze. "You've gotten weaker since last semester. Your grip isn't as good."
Itadori pouted, playful hurt coloring his expression. "Hey, vibraphone mallets and bass mallets are two very different mallets, of course I'm not going to have the same grip on them. Especially when I'm not even playing!"
"Go clean up your area."
Still looking slightly hurt, Itadori went to begin putting away his instruments and Megumi quickly followed suit, putting away his own mallets and covering his board. He double-checked the timpani for good measure since Itadori took a little longer to rearrange everything he had thrown into disarray at the beginning of class. Thankfully, the person who took over after him also took great care of them, and he found them all with the pedals fully down and covers on neatly.
By the time he returned, Megumi found Itadori chatting with Kugasaki, who was leaning over the back of a chair, foot propped up on the seat as she rested her chin in her palm.
"Nah, just dinner and homework." Was the first part of the conversation Megumi was able to hear over the chatter of other students leaving the room.
"Ah, lucky." Kugisaki frowned, disgust twisting her mouth ever so slightly as she leaned back, threatening to pull the chair with her. "I have to go work on a group project for one of my design classes. Can you believe one of these idiots wants to use silk and spandex in the same design? It's the ugliest fucking combination I've had the misfortune of laying my eyes upon."
Neither Megumi nor Itadori had much of a fashion sense (although Megumi would argue he at least had some sense of taste), but based on Itadori's own horrified expression, Megumi guessed they could both at least understand the textural atrocity.
"I hope for your sake that your group mate gives up that idea."
"I hope they give it up for the sake of my ears." Megumi grumbled, hoisting his too-heavy backpack over his shoulder.
Kugisaki turned her attention sharply to Megumi, glaring at him with a raised eyebrow. "You better be glad I have to go to that meeting or else you'd be hearing a lot more about your own lack of fashion sense. You really need to branch out from your perpetual emo look."
Megumi returned her glare silently. Sure, he did own mainly black or dark colored clothing, but it was a look. Sure, it hadn't changed much since middle school, but he was okay with that, even if Kugisaki wasn't. It was at least better than the chaos method Itadori lived by, wearing just about any and every color and print known to man.
Itadori chuckled. "Come on, Kugisaki, he meant it jokingly. Really though, good luck with that project!"
Kugisaki rolled her eyes, slinging her carefully-chosen leather bag over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, you two idiots go enjoy dinner while I enter purgatory. See you later." Even with a discontent expression, Kugisaki still offered them a single wave as she walked out, falling into step with Maki as they disappeared down the hall.
Itadori turned awkwardly towards Megumi. "Uh, so is that a yes or no for dinner?"
"Sure. I need to get food before I start my homework anyway."
Itadori's expression lit up as it always did when Megumi accepted an invitation. "Cool! Any dinning hall you prefer?"
"Just not the one in south." Megumi said quickly, reminded unfortunately of a rather shitty day he had had after eating something that had apparently not been cooked thoroughly enough and paying the price by throwing up everything he had in his stomach and then any water he attempted to drink in the following few hours.
Itadori grimaced. "That bad? How about North then? It's in the opposite direction entirely!"
Megumi felt a smile tug at the edge of his mouth at the stupid statement. Both of them knew direction had nothing to do with the food quality, but there was something about the way Itadori spoke, as if getting Megumi as far away from his troubles was the best option.
"I'm fine with that." Megumi shrugged, readjusting his backpack.
"Alright! Let me grab my bag, then I'll be ready to go!"
********
It was a beautiful evening. As the semester continued on, the days grew warmer, and the sky grew lighter later into the evening. Even Megumi, who wouldn't be the first to admit that he wasn't someone who enjoyed spending time outside, found himself feeling ever so slightly more energized as the cold began to fade. The warm sunlight seemed to melt the perpetual chill from his bones, making him feel more alive again. He had even considered studying outside the other day, but a harsh wind quickly stopped the idea from becoming reality.
As the two walked through the entrance of the old music hall, the sound of their steps echoing off the building's stone exterior, Itadori paused. Megumi stopped as well, one foot on the stairs. "Did you forget something?"
Itadori shook his head and pointed out towards the horizon. "No, it's just the sky looks really pretty."
Megumi followed his gaze away from the buildings, out over the scattered trees and buildings to the hills in the horizon. Itadori often paused to look at things or take pictures of them randomly because he thought they were interesting. Anything from flowers, to insects, to an oddly broken piece of wood, he would stop for almost anything. This time, though, Megumi agreed that the scene deserved to be appreciated.
Rolling clouds hung across the sky like a curtain, turning the sky into a patchwork of hues. The light from the sinking sun cast them in a warm gradient, with a golden center that faded into rosey light that was finally swallowed by the deep blue of night. A gentle wind blew, making the clouds shift lazily. A pair of cranes soared freely through the sky, delicate wings casting a dark shadow across the sun.
Megumi turned his head to look at Itadori, and regretted it almost immediately as he felt his mind slow. The fading light cast him in a warm glow, excentuating the scar that ran underneath his right eye, and making the ends of his light pink hair look almost orange. Even the light reflecting in his warm brown eyes made them appear to glow a faint red, like embers. His usually energetic presence was replaced by a strange calm, like a glimpse of the sun after a storm. He was the very image of warmth, and as Itadori stared into the sunset, Megumi couldn't help but stare at him.
With what seemed like too much effort, Megumi peeled his gaze away, doing his best to focus again on the colors of the sky. He couldn't let himself slip. Couldn't give in. Couldn't give himself away.
Megumi had long come to terms with the fact that Itadori would never love Megumi back in the way he loved him. They had been friends since highschool, when Itadori moved to the Tokyo area from Sendai to stay with his older brother. Highschool Megumi had found his heart racing whenever he talked to Itadori, and had, at first, assumed it was some weird kind of anxiety triggered by the overly enthusiastic Itadori. But no, he soon realized it was something else, something deeper and far more complicated.
Unfortunately, it hadn't taken much for Megumi to learn what he needed to know. He'd never have the chance to be more than friends with Itadori, and he'd either have to come to terms with that or break off the relationship entirely. Megumi found himself feeling selfish, and didn't have the strength to tear himself away from the sun that was Itadori. In the end, he settled for simply being Itadori's friend.
Itadori loved him as a best friend, and Megumi had to admit his love for his friends certainly wasn't weak or lacking in any way, but they would never share an apartment in that way. He would never have the privilege of getting to watch Itadori wake up every day. Megumi would never get to call Itadori anything other than his friend. They wouldn't get to slowly grow old with each other.
Megumi was a lucky person for being able to stay with Itadori as long as he had, but the longer he stayed, the more he was reminded of how much it hurt. Of how much that inevitable loss would hurt. Would he even be able to bring himself to like the inevitably lucky woman that Itadori would end up with or would jealousy live forever in his heart, clawing at him with every little reminder of what he was missing?
A sudden weight on Megumi's shoulder made him jump, almost sending him tumbling down the stairs unceremoniously. Thankfully, the hand on his shoulder tightened, stabilizing him again. "Sorry, Fushiguro! Didn't mean to startle you like that! You were really out of it for a minute, think of anything interesting?"
Itadori's warm expression, the gentleness of his grip on Megumi's shoulder, the overall long day, it was almost too much for Megumi. Forcing his face into a neutral expression, Megumi looked down the stairs at the dull concrete below. "Just that you were right. It is a very nice sunset."
"I'm glad we got to see it. Have to appreciate it while it's here." Itadori's voice remained light, but his eyes were distant, like he was seeing more than the darkening sky.
Megumi wished they could linger there for longer, just the two of them and the vast sky, existing together in this moment. Life was never so slow though, and Megumi could see more students approaching the entrance to the music building, the sound of their chatter slowly growing louder.
With a twinge of regret, Megumi gently stepped out of Itadori's grasp, leaving the place his hand had just been feeling cold. "Let's get going. It's probably best to get settled before Kugasaki starts updating us on her project."
Itadori quickly shook himself out of his daze, dropping his arm awkwardly. "I almost forgot about that. I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to that or dreading it."
"We're just here for moral support." Megumi said seriously as he and Itadori left the darkening steps of the music building behind.
********
It didn't take them long to get their food. The two decided based on the extensive stream of incoming texts from Kugasaki, their conversation would be better addressed somewhere a bit more private than the dining hall. Since Megumi's roommate, Kamo, had left early for the weekend for a family event, the two decided to crash his room for the inevitable call.
Megumi and Kamo both kept their room pretty neat, with the only evidence that they were frequently there the slightly wrinkled bed sheets and scattered school supplies. Neither really decorated their space, leaving the walls seeming rather sad. Megumi did have two little stuffed animals that Satoru had gotten him that looked like Kuro and Shiro (so he would miss them less while he was at school), but those remained hidden on the far side of his bed.
The only decorative thing on Megumi's desk was a little framed photo of his family. It was one of the few occasions Suguru had managed to wrangle Satoru into decent family-photo attire. Satoru and Suguru were smiling in the back, Satoru's ever-present dark glasses perched on his nose accompanied by a sly grin. Mimiko and Nanako were standing in front of Suguru with matching smiles, Mimiko refusing to part with her favorite creepy doll, even for the photo. Megumi and Tsumiki stood in front of Satoru, with Tsumiki smiling kindly while Megumi wore a small smile just short of a grimace (he had received a rather harsh poke in the back from his sister to force that much out of him). Kuro and Shiro sat in front of the whole family, happy to just be there. He would never admit it to their faces, but he missed being around them everyday, coming home to the noise of the house and the smell of food. He even missed Satoru's horrible sense of humor and Tsumiki's and the twin's constant teasing. As much as Megumi hated photos of himself, he couldn't bring himself to put it away.
Itadori carefully took his shoes off as they entered the room and set them to the side by the door, then proceeded to plop down on the rug, back against the wall next to Megumi's desk. They didn't hang out here a lot, but he had been enough to confirm their designated study spots.
Megumi set his backpack down next to his bed, and pulled out his laptop and chemistry notebook. Unfortunately, Megumi didn't think he'd be able to get an assignment extension for being a witness to Kugasaki's situation. Organic chemistry waited for no one.
With a sigh, Itadori pulled his own laptop out of his bag, settling it on the ground in front of him. "It seems like Kugasaki is fighting to keep the project from self-destructing, so we probably have a few minutes."
Megumi hummed in response, glancing over the edge of his desk at Itadori, who was now very concernedly staring at his laptop screen. "Hey, Fushiguro?"
He already suspected he knew where this was going. "What is it?"
"Have you started the orgo homework that's due tomorrow morning?"
With a sigh, Megumi turned his laptop for Itadori to see. The god damned site that their chemistry homework was on shone bright, as if it was proud of itself for simply existing. The little progress bar in the corner depressingly read, "6 out of 54 questions answered".
Itadori let out a nervous chuckle. "I don't know whether or not to feel comforted by that."
"If it makes it any worse, I've already been working on it for over half an hour." Megumi said grimly, having started it earlier in the day, and immediately regretting his decision to procrastinate it as long as he had. His music class had made him forget exactly how dire his homework situation was.
Itadori groaned. "I'm so screwed." He hung his head dramatically, strands of pink hair brushing the keyboard. "Hey, wait a minute," Megumi looked up at the excitement in his voice, "the homework's the same for everyone, so what if we each did half of the problems, then just shared them."
Megumi was not someone who was ever particularly inclined to cheat. He might not enjoy busy work, but he did find value in the homework, which was crucial to maintaining the grades he probably cared too much about. That said, the "6 out of 54 questions answered" did not fill Megumi with any kind of positive emotions. Besides, he could go back and redo the questions before the exam, so it wasn't like he would be missing out on the practice…They were just being efficient.
"Fine. I'll keep working forwards if you start working backwards. When one of us reaches thirty, we can let the other person know to reduce the chance of overlapping questions."
"Sounds good to me!" Itadori said with a grin, pulling out his notebook, then staring blankly between his laptop screen and a page filled notes that looked like scribbles to the untrained eye and might begin to resemble a reaction mechanism to someone familiar with it. "Uh, Fushiguro?"
Megumi breathed a quiet sigh, praying it wasn't a bad decision to split the homework. "Yes?"
"How opposed would you be to finding somewhere with a whiteboard? My notebook feels too small for some of these problems." As if to make a point, he turned his laptop to show the problem on his screen, which, from what Megumi could see, had at least nine parts. Yeah, they were screwed.
Megumi shut his laptop with a soft click, then shoved both it and his notebook back in his bag. "The study lounge at the end of the hall has a decent size one. I don't think many people use it, so it should be open."
"Really? That should work great!" Itadori grinned at Megumi in a manner that seemed far too cheerful for the situation, but that wasn't unusual.
Just as quickly as they had settled in the dorm, the two left it again. The study lounge was at the far end of the hallway, and the short walk was enclosed by the walls painted with agressively bright colors for no reason, that somehow simultaneously matched and clashed at the same time. Why was one wall a light blue while the other was a deep red? There was no rhyme or reason to anything in the dorms.
Just as Megumi predicted, the study lounge was dark. He flipped on the slightly too bright lights that hummed to life as they walked in and gestured to one end of the room. "There's your whiteboard."
"That'll work great!" Itadori swung his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor with a heavy thunk. He glanced over his shoulder at Megumi with a grin. "Time to get to work."
********
Kugasaki had called them briefly around 10:30 to tell them the drama, but decided to wait until the weekend to spill all the details once she caught sight of the monstrosity that was the whiteboard (almost more covered by ink than blank space) and Itadori's dishevled appearance, hair ruffled more than usual, whiteboard marker staining his hands and jacket sleeves as neither he nor Megumi had anything else to erase it with.
By time they both had fully submitted their homework, all Megumi could think was, "Thank god Itadori brought up the idea of splitting it."
Itadori had clicked submit on his final problem at one thirty-two, sighing loudly as he collapsed onto his notebook and scattered worksheets in front of him. "I don't want to have to think about nucleophiles for a week."
Megumi leaned back in his chair, hair falling away from his face for the first time since they started. "We still have lab tomorrow."
Itadori just let out a noise of complaint, slumping further into his notes.
A crack of thunder brought the two of them back to the world.
"When did it start raining?" Itadori asked, jumping up to look out the window at what was quickly becoming a storm.
"I'm not sure. I don't think I noticed that it had."
"I hope it blows over soon. I still need to get back to my dorm."
Megumi cringed as he checked the weather on his phone. "It's not great. The radar's basically a solid chunk of rain. I think we're catching the remnants of that tropical storm."
"Really? How's the lighting then?" As if on cue, a bolt of lightning split the sky with a deafening rumble, rattling the window panes.
"We're on an alert until tomorrow morning."
"Shit. I guess I'll just sprint then." Itadori grimaced as he watched the branches of the trees below whip around in the wind that had picked up. "Really sucks that our dorms aren't closer."
Megumi glanced from what was quickly becoming a violent mess of nature outside to Itadori's pained grin. If it had been almost anyone else, Megumi probably would've simply offered an umbrella and his condolences, but, unfortunately for Megumi, it was not 'anyone else'. Indecision was causing a uproar in his mind stronger than the storm outside, but Itadori's slight flinch as another bolt of lightning split the sky, and the quickly following thunder that shook the very foundation of the building was all it took for one side to win out.
"You could always just spend the night here. Since Kamo's gone, we don't have to worry about bothering him." Megumi kept his tone carefully flat.
"Really?" Itadori's eyes lit up. "Thank you so much, Fushiguro!"
The two of them glanced outside at the storm again. "I'd rather not make you walk through that. Knowing you, you'd barely escape being struck by lightning."
"My luck's not that bad." Itadori complained, "I just get into a lot of weird situations."
Megumi snorted, thinking about all the stories he's heard from Itadori, ranging from typical student to borderline supernatural. Megumi's still not entirely certain his uncle isn't a demon from what Itadori's told him, but that was a problem for another time. "I'm aware. That's why I said 'barely escape'."
"Hey, it's Kugisaki's job to bully me, not yours." Itadori pouted, closing his notebook with a soft thump.
Megumi just closed his eyes. They were both tired, fried from several frantic hours of chemistry homework, and still had a morning lab tomorrow. He couldn't let himself watch Itadori too closely, or he'd end up staring, leading to a likely incredibly embarrassing conversation.
"Come on, we should start getting ready for bed. I know for a fact we both have an eight a.m. tomorrow."
Itadori groaned, banging his head gently against the table. "No more molecules."
********
Unfortunately for the two of them, the room took a lot longer to set up than anticipated. They took turns showering, with Itadori practically shoving Megumi in to use it first, insisting that he didn't want to intrude as a guest. Megumi found no logic in his insistence, but didn't bother putting up a fight. It didn't matter who showered first. As long as no one smelled, Megumi didn't particularly care.
While Itadori was in the shower, Megumi made a little bed on the floor out of a thin sheet and blanket, pulling on a hoodie for extra warmth against the cold linoleum floor that lay just below the thin sheet and rug. It certainly wouldn't be the most comfortable situation, but it was far better than the bare floor and infinitely less embarrassing than trying to squeeze both of them onto a single twin bed. Based on the few times Itadori had fallen asleep with Megumi around, he wasn't exactly a still sleeper, and Megumi would rather not wake up to being smacked in the face.
The hard part came after Itadori came out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet as he didn't want to use Megumi's or Kamo's towel. Megumi even offered him the extra clean one he had since Gojo had insisted on buying Megumi a set when he moved into the dorm, but Itadori still turned the offer down, insisting that he might accidentally get dye on the towel. Megumi still hadn't figured out whether it was the bright pink or dark brown undercut that was dyed — he had never seen either faded.
Megumi was getting his backpack settled for the following day as Itadori plopped down on the edge of the 'bed' he had made for the floor, shaking his head and sending water droplets flying. If Megumi was less tired, he might have cared about the few drops of water that landed on his notebooks, but it was well past two now, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
"I tidied the bed up a bit for you." Megumi jerked his head towards the twin bed. "Took a couple of the blankets, but it should still be comfortable enough."
Itadori's eyes widened as he realized what Megumi was saying. "No, there's no way I could take the bed while you sleep on the floor. You've already let me crash your place."
Megumi closed his eyes with a tired sigh, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "Itadori, I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor as my guest. I offered, so it would be rude of me to make you sleep somewhere uncomfortable."
"So you will admit it would be uncomfortable for you." Itadori was far too loud right now.
"I never said it wouldn't be. I have no problem with—"
"Then we'll both use the bed." Itadori interjected.
Megumi grew quiet for a moment, staring at Itadori's untroubled expression, questioning if it was just the lateness that made him fail to see the logistical issues of it, while confirming his suspicions that Itadori, unfortunately, likely felt nothing for him. Not a flicker of hesitance in his bright expression.
"Itadori," Itadori cocked his head slightly at Megumi's exasperated tone, "I barely fit comfortably on that bed alone. Fitting both of us would be a nightmare, especially with how much—" Megumi couldn't leave the sentence unfinished, it sounded so much worse if he did, "especially with how much more space you seem to take up…" Megumi wanted to slam his head into the wall. That was probably the worst way he could've commented that Itadori was more muscular than himself and had broader shoulders.
Thankfully, Itadori took the statement into careful consideration as he stared at the small bed, rather than as an insult. "You do have a point…"
Megumi wished he would just settle and take the bed, but he knew Itadori was nothing if not determined.
"Well, if you won't take the bed, then I'll just sleep on the floor with you." There it was. Determined to the point of aggravating stubbornness. Courtesy to a fault, preferring to take the more uncomfortable route for the sake of so-called 'fairness'.
Megumi would've continued protesting if he weren't so tired, but the thought of his alarm slowly ticking closer to startling him awake at a time he didn't want to be up at kept him quiet.
"Fine." Itadori's expression brightened slightly as he realized he had, for once, not been entirely shut down. "Move over." Megumi said, yanking the comforter off the bed to readjust the set-up on the floor, "I wasn't planning on having two of us sleep here."
After a bit of rearranging, the two finally settled down into the makeshift bed on the floor, shoulders inches apart in the awkwardly small spacing between the beds.
"What time do you want to wake up tomorrow?" Itadori asked as he plugged his phone in, pulling up his alarms.
"Want to? Like eleven thirty." Megumi grumbled, turning his head to watch Itadori's expression, illuminated now by only his phone and the slivers of light coming through the curtains. "Should? Seven ten if you don't care about getting a real breakfast."
"Seven ten it is then." Itadori echoed, switching on one of his several pre-existing alarms. From what Megumi could see, he had at least six alarms set between seven and seven twelve.
With that, Itadori turned his phone off, plunging them into a comfortable darkness. Megumi felt Itadori let out a long breath as he settled in beside him, the blanket over them shifting. "Goodnight, Fushiguro."
"Goodnight, Itadori." Megumi felt glad he was so tired from the day. The desire to sleep quickly overcame his racing thoughts of Itadori laying right next to him, close enough for him to hear his quiet breaths as he quickly drifted off to sleep. His brain and his heart had different priorities, but tonight his brain won over, playing its trump card: an early lab.