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He was staring at the display of flowers and honestly, he was glad Megumi was trying to taking them off. Watching them bloom again killed the want to pick them off his son.
"If I am, I haven't noticed a difference."
The benefit of being a deadpan and surprisingly honest person. Being a piece of shit also helped so he never had to answer the polite questions either.
Still, he reaches over to rub a petal between his fingers, wondering if they could be felt like an extension of Megumi, like a phantom limb.
"So... what? You've been telling little white lies?"
He wants to pull back on reflex, still not used to the other being in such close proximity even if they had agreed to be civil. Logically, he recognizes Toji as his biological father, its unmistakable in their similarities, but his mind was still catching up.
Habits had to be broken, an avoidance of touch.
So he stills himself, watching that hand play with the petal of the forget-me-nots that blossomed from his hair and skin.
"Nothing harmful, I wasn't aware these things would start sprouting if I was fibbing about plans cause I didn't wanna go."
His moody demeanor wasn't anything unusual, but it seemed that a new annoyance had sprouted from him in the last few days. Notably in the form of small blue flowers along his temple and neck.
It made his skin itch, learning that plucking them did little to rid his skin of the foreign flora, just giving a mild twinge of pain before being replaced the next moment.
He's not expecting the silence to be broken with that, to be fair. He's midway through slurping noodles out of his bowl when Megumi says he's already run into Toji and it makes Gojo choke for half a moment, coughing as he pulls his hand up to cover his mouth.
"Oh. Okay. Uh - yeah." He clears his throat, ignoring the burn of oil at the back. Ugh.
"And how did that go?" Part of him wants to sidestep the whole conversation, except there's the pesky problem of a little note he left before he went out to fight Sukuna that Megumi definitely got and read.
There's no real defense he can make for himself. Even if Megumi hadn't wanted to talk about it when he was literally seven years old, he still should have probably said something once he became a teen. Maybe once he'd gotten to the school.
"We should probably talk about all that. Did you two talk about why he disappeared?"
"Yeah, a little bit. The conversation wasn't very long."
It went about as well as anyone could expect, not to mention the week or so that Megumi spent sulking about the whole ordeal. Toji gave him extra context to that vague letter, and it was enough to stir up those emotions from so long ago. Nights spent waiting at the door.
It was such an empty feeling.
"I mean...I didn't even recognize him as my dad at first-he was just the guy who attacked me Shibuya and then...took his own life."
He could recall it a little better were it not for the frequent head injuries having their own repercussions on the teen's memory quality. Even for the healing he would receive on the regular, lasting damages were par for the course of being a sorcerer.
"Then again, I know a lot happened that night, and it only got worse." He glances to Gojo from across the table, "Regardless, I want your perspective on what happened between you two."
" All of this is so pointless-- there is no reason for me to be wandering a place like this if there isn't a hierarchy of power for me to challenge, " Kashimo huffs through his nostrils, static crackling on the surface of his skin from the sheer irritation he was feeling.
" Days now, and not a single person has stepped up for a fight. I would had stayed in the grave if I knew I was going to be pulled into such a mundane place, " the sneer of irritation remains on his face as he notices the boy looking in his direction.
" -- So are you here to clash in combat, or are you going to waste my time too? "
There's a sense of familiarity that wasn't his own, perhaps something lingering in those nerves from a past battle when his body was not his own. Those aches that still thrummed along muscle fibers in the early mornings or on rainy days.
He wasn't going to be much of a challenge, not with how limited his shadows were right now. At best he would play the defense, but if this person was brand new to the city, they were likely to be stripped down as much as anyone else in terms of abilities.
"I'll spare you the breath, I didn't come lookin' for a fight. Just heard you grumbling to yourself."
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Last night was rough, the morning even more so. Megumi fought to drag himself out of that bed for hours, his usual early rise to meet Okkotsu for a morning walk ignored. Instead he spent most of the hours that ticked by going back over what had transpired, all those words said still felt raw and abrasive to his skin.
Even for the weight and ache in his bones, Megumi showered to clear his head, brushed his teeth, and dressed himself. Small things, one at a time.
The scent of coffee filled the space within the kitchen, cradling the mug close to his body to feel some of the warmth coming off of the ceramic before bringing it to his lips.
The bitter taste never bothered him, in fact it usually woke him up a little more alongside the caffeine. He pauses, hearing a soft knock from the door and shuffling over before opening it.
In the last legs of his exhaustion, there is comfort seeing Nanami once more today. The weariness in his body and soul matched the way that the older seemed, hinting to them both being in a similar state.
He spoke too much, asked too much of people today.
But in a poetic way, he didn't have much to say to Nanami. Everything that could have been said before was already shared in the same sentiments from the other prior.
"I think of you as family too."
It's gentle the way it falls from his mouth, giving a slow exhale through his nose that follows, shoulders slumping.
"Gojo was the guide to the rocky start of my life, and you helped me stand to keep going, despite my shortcomings. Even for us both becoming cogs, becoming complacent with the fate that was handed to us, we can stand here and look one another in the eye."
He does just that, meeting Nanami's hazel with his own soft teals. He could recall their last words to one another, the promise to keep him safe to the best of his ability before the ghost of his father separated them.
"I'm happy to see you, Nanami-san. When you come and visit, I will always welcome you home."
So many things he wanted to say to the man who abandoned him and Tsumiki, even if he was only recently found it it was due to his death. Even for as many words wanted to spill out of him, he was so tired. So very exhausted from spilling his guts to people who mattered to him, to those who made him feel wanted and loved.
Now he was faced with the man he thought left him behind.
Megumi wanted to be angry, to shout and scream what kept him up at night when he was so small. The evenings he would wait by the door for Toji to come home, only to fall asleep and then wake in bed. Hints of care, slivers of affection.
He felt it, but there was a barrier between them.
Megumi thought back to what the other said to him prior, about how similar he was to his mother. The notion gave light to the behavior, but there was little excuse when he was just a child, he never asked to be born.
"You piss me off."
His chest was tight again, just like with Gojo, of course it was.
"All you needed to do was love me and nurture me, and you couldn't even do that. Shitty upbringing or not, you could have broken the cycle. You could have been different, you could have—"
Those words are cut off by his breath hitching, not even realizing tears were finally falling down his face. He broke, something within him snapped the final cord that had been strung tight this entire time. Megumi never complained about the poor hand that fate dealt him, even for how long he wanted to escape, he learned to live for people.
He never saw himself as something worth living for. But the people around him?
Sure.
He folds like a house of cards under the weight of an anvil, leaning forward and sinking his face into his hands. So fucking embarrassing. He felt violently ill being this vulnerable.
"Even for that, when I learned who you were, I was happy!"
"I was happy to get a second chance, I was happy to have something remaining of my past now that Tsumiki is gone!!"
Megumi felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest, those legs shaking beneath him and struggling to keep his balance, but he forced it. He needed to say this, no matter how much it ached so deep the pain blossomed across the back of his rib cage.
His rage fizzled in that beat of silence between them, hanging his head for a moment before in the smallest voice, a plea was whispered.
"Please. Please come to love me like you should have. Not the distant way you did before."
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There had been moments where he glimpsed Choso in the shadows and the other looked too much like a curse than a human. Times where he's emerged from the darkness and couldn't even be sensed.
But in the end, Choso was a kind person. He aided them in many ways up until the final fight.
Megumi had been the younger brother himself, and of course Tsumiki was there to protect him from the worst, to keep him from making the same mistakes the eldest could. The ache in his very soul was palpable, thinking of how troublesome he had been to her as a child, always picking fights and making problems for his dear sister.
Maybe Choso would have had to deal with the same instance had he and Itadori grown up together as a normal family.
Unfortunately, he was another life that had been taken, and he couldn't help the impulse to apologize. His throat was a bit raw, a side effect of going into panic fits since this curse took effect. But he swallows, and lets the words flow.
"Even for that, you're a good brother. You performed your duty as the eldest to the very end, and I apologize for taking you from him in Shinjuku. You don't have to forgive me, I know you will say it wasn't my fault. So at least give me this."
Someone so strong and capable even after a short time of being awakened. Megumi knew so little about him as it was Itadori who had the initial encounter, but if he was willing to fight alongside the rest of them, there was something there in that cold and vacant exterior.
He's seen the other fight, he felt every single hit while his body was not his own. Some of them still ached to this day when he moved a little too fast or twisted out of place.
A price for his lack of control.
Sometimes he wondered if he could be judged like Itadori must have been in their fight. Not the King of Curses who was inhabiting his body, himself-Megumi Fushiguro. He wondered what he would say when placed upon a stand, would he consider himself innocent or guilty with the lives he took.
Was it him, or Sukuna that was guilty at the end of the day?
Everyone seemed to think it wasn't his fault, but it was something that gave him nightmares to this very day. He didn't need to bother others with it, he should be grateful that some of these people are even alive again, speaking to him, even if floating day to day felt like a dream too good to be true.
"I'm glad you survived. I get the feeling you're like me in a way, wanting to leave this world in a valiant way so your final memories are fond. Maybe I'm wrong, and you just want an escape."
"Either way, please continue to live, Mr. Higuruma."
He could never bring himself to ask something like this were it not for the curse, something so selfish.
Gojo was never one to talk about Geto when he was young, even for the events of the Night Parade, he had to shake down Okkotsu of all people to try and figure out what might be transpiring with his benefactor at the time.
But he found the reports, the photos, everything that might have been when the two were second years in Jujutsu Tech. Megumi wasn't blind to how much Suguru meant to his mentor.
"I don't know you that well, and no one has anything good to say about you unless it's forced out. I think what you did from the reports and word of mouth was shitty, but I'm sure you've heard that plenty of times. You tried to hurt people I care about, that's usually a fine line for me to wanna put you in the ground."
He sighs, meeting the other with a tired gaze.
"I don't even know why Gojo wants to give you a second chance. Maybe it's the same way with me not wanting to give up on people I care deeply for, I can't claim to understand him completely, despite growing up with him as my guardian."
"You're not good, but you're not as bad as you could have been. You're trying."
Maki has always been strong, she was in fact, his definition of someone who broke the system norms. She was never one to be a cog, but rather made her own path.
She was someone he could trust.
"When we were younger, I found myself jealous of you. But, I could never bring myself to hate you—after all, you and Mai were people I grew up with. I was just a kid, with stupid confusing feelings I didn't understand, now all I feel is...admiration."
"You already told me after everything I had nothing to apologize for, so I won't. We both lost a sister in this mess, so if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I'm here. Know I would do anything to keep you safe and sound at my side."
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The words slip without him even thinking, a twisting feeling of embarrassment running hot along the back of his neck, smoldering to the point of a cold sweat coming to his brow.
Yet it doesn't stop, he had to have been cursed to be this honest for the first time since the two met.
"Even for everything, how I treated you as a child and avoided your methods of affection as my guardian, I cherished every single one when you weren't by my side. When I lost you that night you were sealed, I lost my constant, my sense of security. That was the first time I had to really learn to stand on my own to save you."
"You were the first caretaker aside from my sister than refused to leave my side, you wanted to see me succeed, wanted to show my potential. You never gave up on me." Megumi's throat was tight, his breaths coming out shaking as the corners of his eyes stung.
It was a mixture of truth he could never bring himself to say and pure, raw, humiliation that these weak spots were being rubbed raw with every word. He felt sick from how his stomach was wrapped in knots.
"I haven't forgiven myself for Shinjuku. I don't think I ever will, no matter what's told to me I still feel the very raw sensation of watching the light leave people, and it makes my body so cold. I'm sorry, I'm sorry you had to fight me."
"I'm sorry I couldn't resist his influence like Itadori. Maybe if I did, things wouldn't have had to go so far with Okkotsu taking control of your body. I never wanted you to be the weapon society saw you as."
A slow breath, tilting his head back to maybe prevent the tears from falling.
"You'll always be my dad. I won't mess up this time, I promise."
