Cosmos

“So, you’ve got a TV dad in season two,” the interviewer ventured. He crossed his legs. “How does that work for you? I mean, considering your legal dad is in the same show…”

“Have you seen season one?” Megumi enquired. “Like, did you follow the plot at all?”

“Um, are you referring to anything in particular?” The interviewer uncrossed his legs.

“Yeah, I am.”

“And what would that be…?” Crossed legs again.

“How about the scene where kid-me says ‘I don’t care about my dad, he’s an asshole’?”

Gojo hid a snicker behind his hand, trying (and failing) to pass it off as a cough. He cleared his throat. “Alright, Megs, let’s not get snappy-“

“No, no, it’s alright,” the interviewer hurried to assure him. “I quite understand why it would be a sensitive subject… I do apologise.”

Megumi nodded. “Alright, then. The character of my biological dad in the show is completely irrelevant to my character, as you would know if you’d seen JJK.”

Gojo nodded in agreement. “He literally abandons him, man. And then my character swoops in! So, in a way, I’m his TV dad after all.”

“Definitely more than the biological guy,” Megumi agreed. Gojo beamed at him.

The interviewer was nodding along. “Oh, totally, I do remember that episode. I just meant, how is it to have a real dad on TV, when in real life-“

Gojo slapped him.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment,” Gojo laughed. He was sprawled across the couch, taking up as much space as possible. His arm was around Megumi, who was sat in the remaining corner, legs curled around himself like a cat. “I stand by it though.”

“What’s worse was that Satoru was trying so hard to be nice to the guy,” Megumi sighed. “He was trying to stop me from being mean to him, but the questions just kept going…”

“Pretty much. Megumi tends to get very heated very fast with interviewers who mention the dad character, because he thinks they’re always leading him down Trauma Lane. He was getting better at staying calm, and then that interview came along. We blacklisted the question after that.” Gojo pushed his sunglasses up his nose, and stretched his legs out in front of him. Megumi rolled his eyes.

“Stop stretching out like that, Toru. You’re kicking the table, look.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Gojo grinned at the camera. “See, he’s always keeping me in line. Imagine how bad things have to be before he starts being rude!”

“Haters will say it’s an overreaction,” Shoko commented, taking a sip of her coffee. “But I’m not a hater.”

“And that’s saying something, because she hates everything else Satoru does,” Geto observed. “But I agree with her. To suggest that Megumi doesn’t have a ‘real’ dad, right in front of his dad’s face … there are so many things wrong with that, on so many levels.”

“See, he’s ever the voice of reason,” Shoko shrugged, jabbing her thumb towards Geto. “I literally don’t care. I’ve known that kid since he was three. I think Satoru should’ve just killed the interviewer.”

“I don’t know Megumi very well,” Geto clarified, “but I’m all for murdering the interviewer.”

Shoko stared at him. “Like, just on principle?”

“Just on principle.”

Silence.

“Well, I never expected that from Suguru, he always seemed so nice, but I did say it first, so-“

“Not that there’s anything wrong with not having a dad,” Yuji clarified. “I don’t. I live with my grandpa. But there’s a lot wrong with telling someone sat right next to their dad that they don’t have one.”

“Like, the moment he said ‘legal dad’, I thought, someone should slap him,” Nobara confessed. “You could tell right from the start that he was going somewhere he shouldn’t, and Megumi knew it too.”

“And the thing is, Megumi and Mr. Gojo have always been so obviously family. We’ve known since day one, even though they didn’t tell us until… day three?”

“Mr. Gojo totally just blurted it out,” Nobara giggled. “Megumi would’ve kept it a secret forever, but Mr Gojo was so proud…”

Itadori smiled at the memory. “Have you guys ever heard the story of how Megumi started acting?”

“What? No! Why haven’t I heard this before?” Nobara turned towards Yuji, giving the story her full attention. Yuji laughed.

“Don’t know, but I’m sure he won’t mind me telling you. Alright, so, before Mr. Gojo adopted him, he was his babysitter, right? Like, this was before Megumi’s dad- well, anyway. Mr. Gojo took him on set with him, because he had to be there and couldn’t leave Megumi by himself… Megumi was probably, uh, two or three. Mr. Gojo would be fifteen or something. And basically, Megumi thought Mr Gojo was so cool that he insisted on becoming an actor too. Mr. Gojo thought, why not, because he could give a helping hand if Megumi needed it. So, Megumi got signed up for an agency, and he got cast in his first show when he was four. And the rest is history.”

“Wait, so, Megumi’s an actor because he wanted to be like Mr. Gojo???”

“Yeah.”

“And he was just … naturally talented? No stage school or anything?”

“Yeah. The same as Mr. Gojo.”

“Shut up, is that true??? Oh my god-“ Nobara turned to the camera. “You heard it here first, guys. Megumi’s whole life trajectory was decided because he idolised his dad-to-be as a toddler- are you crying, Yuji?”

Yuji sniffed. “No. Only a little.”

“It was your story!"

“It’s just so beautiful!! They were meant to be!! Destined family! Doesn’t that make you want to cry too?!”

Nobara paused. “Yeah, actually. It kinda does.”

“A long time ago, when I’d just been adopted, Satoru sat me down at the table and said, ‘You don’t need to call me Dad. You don’t need to see me as your father. I just want to look after you.’ And, yeah, I still don’t call him Dad. But that’s who he is. He’s my dad. He has been for … as long as I can remember.” Megumi looked across at Gojo. “I owe him everything.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” said Gojo, fiercely. “You owe me nothing. You could spend all my money and kill my cousins and you’d still not owe me anything."

Megumi smiled. “You want me to kill your cousins, though.”

“True. Please kill my cousins, Gumi, I literally can’t stand another family reunion-“

“My character’s leopard print tie is inspired by Megumi,” Nanami informed the camera, a nostalgic smile on his face. “When he was younger – maybe ten? – he was obsessed with animals. I was transitioning out of a ridiculous phase at the time, and came to visit him wearing leopard print … he demanded to know if it was made of real leopard. He was absolutely incandescent. I’ll never forget it. He wouldn’t speak to me for weeks, even when I showed him the label to prove it was nylon.”

“You’ve known him for a long time, then?” someone behind the camera asked.

“A while, yeah. Since he was seven. Satoru used to say I was the only one he trusted to make sure the kid was fed while Satoru went to work. What he meant was, he didn’t want Shoko and her twenty cigarettes a day to go near a small child. She ended up quitting just so she could keep hanging out with her nephew. Megumi’s absolutely changed lives – and he’s such a talented man now. You have to give Satoru some major credit, he raised a good kid.”

“My favourite story about Megumi as a kid is about when we were painting his bedroom,” Satoru began, laughing a little at his memory. “We were going with a dinosaur theme, so the walls were gonna be light green. Megumi takes one look at the colour he picked, yells ‘it looks like puke!’, throws up on the floor, and storms out. He got a pink bedroom the next week, and loved it.”

“You always tell that story,” Megumi complained. “It makes me sound like a spoiled brat.”

Gojo looked at him pointedly. “What happened when I tried to get you to bake cookies with me?”

“…..”

“You threw flour all over the kitchen, didn’t you?”

“I was five!”

“What about when I accidentally played Justin Bieber at your eighth birthday party?”

“I think crawling under the table to cry was justified. It was a horrible song.”

“And when Toge borrowed your wooden toy car?”

“…Yeah, alright, I guess I didn’t need to hit him over the head with it. Still, even if I was spoiled, isn’t that your fault?”

“Eh, I think you turned out alright in the end.”

“It was a total take-a-guess-and-hope-it’s-right situation,” Shoko reminisced.

“For fifteen years?”

“Well, more like thirteen, but yeah. No-one tells you how to raise a kid, especially when you’re fifteen yourself. At first, we’d be giving Megumi back to his dad at the end of the day – but then again, all he did at home was go to bed, you know? Everything he learnt, he learnt from us or school. Completely insane.”

“I do have a very vivid memory of the first day of filming,” Geto said, mentally connecting a few dots. “Satoru and Megumi walked in together. Satoru was in a feather boa and pineapple shaped sunglasses, chattering away, and Megumi looked like a glitter factory had exploded in his face. He looked like he was having the worst day of his life, and he had noise-cancelling headphones on. The moment he spotted Yuji, he made a beeline for him – but then Satoru made a super offended noise, and Megumi literally froze in place. He immediately did a complete 180, and went and hugged Satoru, who patted his head and whispered something to him. That’s when I thought, these guys are the real thing. These are the people you want to model your family on.”

“They just understand each other on a different level,” Shoko agreed. “Megumi could be completely overstimulated and about to kill Satoru, but he’ll still hug him goodbye. I don’t know how he does it. If Satoru ever tried to hug me after talking my ear off for an entire car ride, I’d flip him off and go hang out with Yuji instead.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, he went straight back to Yuji,” Geto nodded. “I just thought their connection was so lovely.”

“Once, I was idly complaining about something- oh, yeah, it was that Nobara was getting a modelling gig,” Megumi began. “It wasn’t serious, it was just along the lines of ‘I’m not earning anything out of this except my actual pay, what the heck, this is unfair’, yada yada. But then this idiot goes, ‘Do you want a modelling contract? I’ll get you a modelling contract-‘”

“Listen, you were complaining about not having one, I could get you one,” Gojo said defensively. “What do you want me to say? ‘Sucks for you, shut up’?”

“No, but you knew I wasn’t serious! He literally picked up the phone and starts calling his agent-“

“Shoutout to Agatha, you’re a star-“

“He’s just so intent on me getting everything I want-“

“What am I for, otherwise??”

“And then he has the audacity to call me spoiled-“

“I think you’d make a good model, though!”

“I did actually end up getting a contract. Not through Toru, though. Through my own hard work-“

“And your pretty eyelashes.”

“-And my pretty eyelashes.”

“Oh, man, my favourite Gojo and Megumi memory? Probably when we went out for boba,” Yuji mused.

“Oh, yeah.” Nobara started scrolling through her phone. “I have pictures, hang on.”

“I mean, I’m used to parents coming to hangouts with us. They’re useful, because they drive us places and pay for stuff and all that. So I didn’t have a problem with Mr. Gojo coming with us, although I was surprised because I thought Megumi wouldn’t like spending time with his dad."

“Oh, how wrong you were,” Nobara sighed. She held up her phone to the camera. “They get along so well it’s ridiculous. We felt like third wheels to a father-son date, rather than Mr. Gojo being a third wheel to a group hangout.”

The camera zoomed in on the photo; it showed Megumi, Gojo, Yuji, and Nobara in a restaurant. Megumi and Gojo were on one side of the booth, Gojo’s arm over Megumi’s shoulders. Yuji and Nobara were opposite them. All four were smiling at the camera, though Megumi’s small smile stood out in contrast from the others’ beams.

“They’re a lot of fun to hang out with,” Yuji said. “Like, a lot. They’re ridiculous. Megumi would trip Mr. Gojo up in the street, and just keep walking, but if he reached the next bench and Mr. Gojo still hadn’t caught up, he’d turn round and wait for him. Mr. Gojo would stop halfway through a conversation just to make sure Megumi was doing something social, and not just ignoring us-”

“Sometimes he’d purposefully walk ahead with me, to force Megumi to talk to Yuji,” Nobara snickered.

Yuji nodded in agreement, cheeks tinged with pink. “He talks plenty if you can get him started. But anyway, Mr. Gojo bought us boba and let us do our thing, because I think he was super excited that Megumi had friends. It was kinda sweet.”

“That was probably the day we realised that they were father and son,” Nobara observed. “Like, logically, we knew. Like Yuji said, we knew from day one, it’s obvious. But you just don’t get it until you watch Gojo steal Megumi’s boba, or you see Megumi pull a pen out of his pocket because Gojo is always being struck with ideas that he has to write down immediately, or you see them walk in perfect sync, even when they’re not next to each other…”

“You’d genuinely think they shared DNA,” said Yuji, seriously. “And not even halves. You’d think they were clones, sometimes.”

“Uh, I think that’s a bit far,” Nobara disagreed. “They have different personalities.”

“Just wait until you Mr. Gojo do his feral scenes this season. You’ll see what I mean.”

“We make new favourite memories every day,” Gojo said. Megumi rolled his eyes and slapped Gojo’s shoulder. “What? It’s true! Just yesterday, you used a cookie cutter to make my carrots into different shapes because I complained about eating vegetables. I love that memory, just the same as I love remembering me doing that for you ten years ago.”

“He’s a sappy little shit,” Megumi told the camera. “He can’t help it.”

“It’s true, I can’t.”

“His actual answer is that he’s indecisive.”

“It’s true, I am.”

“He also apparently can’t answer for himself.”

“It’s true, I can’t."

“Do you ever STOP BEING ANNOYING-“

“If we’re talking favourite memories of all time, it’s got to be Megumi’s adoption,” Shoko decided. “Satoru cried. Megumi didn’t. Megumi was absolutely overjoyed, you could see it on his little face. I’d never seen such a big smile. I thought his face would split in half. And he’s never done it again; he went right back to being his grumpy self the day after.”

“I genuinely can’t imagine that,” Geto confessed. “Satoru crying or Megumi smiling, I just can’t see it.”

“Neither could I, until I did. You know what people say, about such-and-such having changed their brain chemistry? For me, it wasn’t a song or a book. It was watching my little nephew be able to fling his arms around Satoru, and call him Dad. That’s another thing he never did again, but he did then. It was the best day of all of our lives.”

“I don’t believe in destiny, but I do think it was inevitable,” Nanami pondered. “I mean, if there are infinite alternate universes, like scientists say, I don’t think there’s a universe where they aren’t father and son. Maybe sometimes they swap roles. Maybe there’s a universe where it’s biological, although imagining Satoru with a girl is …. unfathomable…”

“So you think it was written in the stars?”

“In a way. I think Satoru and Megumi are two incredibly stubborn, caring people, and they wouldn’t let something as small as an alternate universe stop them. In this universe, they were born and raised in the same area by people who were friends, and they came together naturally. In the next universe, maybe they find each other through Craigslist. We’ll never know.”

“I’m glad to have met Megumi, yeah,” Gojo said, like it was obvious. “After all, with him around, I get to play with Toast and Maple- ow, Gumi!”

“He actually only looks after me for the dogs,” Megumi told the camera, hand resting on Gojo’s shoulder, where he’d hit him moments before. “It’s a sad truth.”

Gojo sighed. “Alright, I see where we’re going. What do I have to bribe you with this time?”

“Airpods.”

“You already have airpods, you donut.”

“New ones. I want blue ones.”

“What, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“And if I don’t buy them?”

“……….”

“Oh my god, fine.”

Megumi grinned. “Thanks, Toru!” He turned to the camera. “My dad is the best dad ever. He looks after me, feeds me, combs my hair, supports me emotionally, threatens interviewers for me-“

“And buys you Airpods.”

“And buys me Airpods. Everyone needs a Satoru. Thank you, and goodnight.”