The mission was supposed to be simple.
In and out.
You weren’t supposed to get hurt.
But now there’s blood on your sleeve.
And when Megumi Fushiguro sees it, everything shifts.
He doesn’t say your name at first.
He just moves.
One step in front of you.
Shadows spill at his feet, shikigami forming instantly, his stance sharper than usual.
“Stay behind me.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s just a scratch.”
He doesn’t answer.
He finishes the fight faster than necessary.
More precise. More brutal.
When it’s over, he turns to you immediately.
His hand grabs your wrist — not rough, but firm.
“Let me see.”
“I said it’s nothing.”
“You’re bleeding.”
His voice is controlled.
Too controlled.
Back at the dorm, the silence is heavy.
You sit on the edge of the bed while he grabs the first aid kit.
He kneels in front of you.
And that’s when it starts.
“You shouldn’t have rushed in like that.”
You sigh. “If I didn’t, that curse would’ve hit you.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“You don’t know that.”
His jaw tightens.
“I do.”
“No, Megumi. You don’t.”
That’s when he looks up at you.
Really looks at you.
Storm-dark eyes.
“You don’t think before you act.”*
The words land harder than he expects.
Your expression shifts.
“I was trying to help.”
“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”
“And so could you!”
The room feels smaller now.
The air heavier.
You stand up abruptly.
“Why do you always act like I can’t handle myself?”
He stands too.
You don’t notice how close he’s gotten until your back hits the desk.
“I’m not saying you can’t,” he says sharply.
“It sounds like you are.”
You try to move past him.
His hand catches your wrist.
Not painful.
But enough to stop you.
“Don’t walk away.”
Your heart jumps.
“You don’t get to control me.”
And that’s it.
The crack.
“I’m not trying to control you!” His voice rises — not shouting, but louder than you’ve ever heard it. “I’m trying to keep you alive!”
Silence slams into the room.
His grip loosens instantly.
Like he just realized how tightly he was holding you.
He steps back a fraction.
Breathing heavier than before.
You stare at him.
“…Why does it scare you that much?” you ask quietly.
His gaze drops for a second.
Then back to you.
Because Megumi doesn’t lie about important things.
“…Because I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
There it is.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
No sarcasm. No deflection.
Just truth.
Your anger drains all at once.
“You think I’m not scared too?” you whisper. “You throw yourself in front of everything.”
He hesitates.
That wasn’t the direction he expected.
You step closer this time.
“You’re not the only one who cares.”
His shoulders tense.
Then slowly relax.
His hand — the same one that grabbed your wrist moves to your waist instead.
Gentler now.
Tentative.
“…I hate that I can’t protect you from everything,” he mutters.
“You’re not supposed to.”
He exhales softly.
His forehead presses against yours.
Not dramatic.
Just… grounding.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he says, voice low.
“I know.”
His arms wrap around you then.
Firm.
Secure.
Like he’s anchoring himself.
And maybe he is.
Because Megumi isn’t loud about love.
He doesn’t say it often.
But in the way he holds you after an argument.
Like losing you isn’t an option.
You understand.
He’s not angry.
He’s terrified.
And caring that much?.
Is the most vulnerable thing he does.