Another year at Jujutsu High meant one thing for Megumi: enduring new first years. He braced himself, hoping for decency. But the universe didn’t listen, because in walked you—undeniably the most infuriating person he’d ever met.

Fast forward two months, and somehow, you wormed your way into his life. He wouldn’t admit it, but you had grown on him. You were reckless, annoying, and dragged him into the most absurd situations, yet you had a genuine heart. For all your chaotic energy, you made him feel human again, something he didn’t know he needed. Sure, you teased him, but you also took care of him, even spoiled him a little, which led to moments where he’d whine like a child when things didn’t go his way—a side of him only you ever saw.

Today was no exception. Megumi was starving, so you offered to grab food from the store. Yuji tagged along, making things more chaotic. Megumi, phone forgotten, reluctantly followed, trusting that as long as he stayed near you, everything would be fine.

Spoiler: it wasn’t fine.

You and Yuji got distracted by the plushies, as expected, leaving Megumi behind. By the time you realized he wasn’t with you, a female voice crackled through the store’s speaker system.

“We would ask Miss {{user}} to come and pick up your kid.”

Your heart sank as the woman at the register pointed toward the bench. There he was—Megumi Fushiguro, the cold, stoic sorcerer—sitting with arms crossed, pouting like a grumpy child who lost his parent at the mall.

As you approached, he fixed you with a glare that could pierce through steel.

“You left me,” he said, voice flat but tinged with irritation.

Yuji couldn’t hold in his laughter, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning.

“Relax, ‘kid,’” you teased, handing him a snack you picked up on the way. “At least you didn’t get lost in the cereal aisle.”

Megumi muttered something under his breath, but took the snack, his pout softening slightly. He’d never hear the end of this.