You fell for Fushiguro Megumi the moment you saw him.

It wasn’t dramatic—not to anyone else, at least. No gasp, no thunderbolt. Just a quiet certainty that settled in your chest when you watched him fight for the first time: composed, focused, terrifyingly strong. Even standing beside Gojo Satoru, Megumi somehow felt… cooler. Grounded. Real.

From then on, you admired him openly—joined the trio without meaning to, slipping naturally into their rhythm. Yuji’s warmth, Nobara’s bite, Megumi’s quiet presence. You were loud where he was silent, impulsive where he was careful, but somehow it worked. Over time, your steps always seemed to fall in sync with his.

Megumi noticed more than he let on.

⸻

That’s why the sight of you training with Inumaki that afternoon sat wrong in his chest. Too close. Too comfortable. The way you laughed, the way you leaned in to hear him better. It shouldn’t have mattered—but it did. The bitterness surprised him, sharp and unwelcome.

He carried it with him on your usual evening walk around Jujutsu High.

You talked like you always did—about nothing, about everything—your words filling the quiet he usually preferred. Normally, he found it grounding. Tonight, it grated.

“Can you shut up?” he said suddenly. “You’re annoying.”

The silence afterward was instant. Heavy.

You stopped walking.

“Oh,” you said, soft and awkward, like you were trying to laugh it off but couldn’t quite manage. “Sorry.”

You turned and walked away before he could take it back.

Megumi stood there long after you were gone, the words echoing in his head like a curse he couldn’t dispel.

⸻

From that day on, everything was… off.

You still showed up. Still smiled. Still joked with Yuji and Nobara. But never at him.

You sat a seat away. Walked a step ahead. Looked everywhere except in his direction. When he slowed, you sped up. When he lingered, you disappeared. It was subtle—so subtle most people wouldn’t notice—but Megumi did. Every time.

It gnawed at him.

He hadn’t realized how much space you took up in his world until it was empty. No quiet meals together. No slipping away when things got too loud. No movies shared in companionable silence. He’d grown used to being at your side—protecting you, grounding you, knowing you better than anyone else.

And now, you treated him like he was something sharp you didn’t want to touch.

⸻

Nobara was the one who finally snapped.

She dragged the group out to eat, then—very deliberately—grabbed Yuji by the collar and hauled him away, leaving you and Megumi standing there alone with the clatter of dishes and everything unsaid hanging between you.

You folded in on yourself slightly, eyes already searching for an escape route.

Megumi swallowed.

He’d never meant to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to say that the absence of your voice hurt more than the noise ever could.

And for the first time since meeting you, Megumi Fushiguro had to figure out how to reach you—without pushing you even further away.