You leaned against the doorframe of Megumi’s dorm room, your vision blurry and your steps unsteady. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, but the alcohol in your system did a better job of numbing it. You had learned the hard way how the Jujutsu society worked, how they used people like Gojo and would gladly do the same with you. So, in your reckless defiance, you had drowned your worries in drink. Too much drink.

Now, here you were, standing in front of Megumi’s door, and he was staring at you like he always did—calm and unreadable—but there was something else there today. Something like concern, despite the way he kept it hidden behind his usual stoic facade.

He was silent for a beat, but his eyes softened just a little. He was trying to figure you out, but that was nothing new. You never made it easy for anyone to see through you.

“Are you drunk?” His voice was quiet, laced with the same irritation he always had when things were messy, but underneath it, there was something else—something that made his gaze linger on you longer than it should have.

You blinked at him, lips curling into a half-smile, but you could tell he wasn’t amused.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in silence, but eventually, Megumi spoke again, his voice softer this time.

“You’re not invincible,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, but it hit you harder than it should have. It was the truth. You were just a person, and even if you had dangerous abilities, you were still someone they could discard when they were done with you.

“Come inside.”