Omfg Mitsuyas Has Me I Reread It Like 5 Times

omfg mitsuyas has me 🥹🥹 i reread it like 5 times

☆ INVISIBLE STRING.

Chifuyu Matsuno, Takashi Mitsuya, and Ken "Draken" Ryuguji as lyrics from Taylor Swift's "Invisible String." Chifuyu owns a pet store and Draken owns a repair shop.

"ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME"

Perhaps the stack of romance novels he had on his bedroom had finally gotten to him, but CHIFUYU MATSUNO was a firm believer of soulmates. He saw them everywhere: in his manga, in the streets, even in the canaries, puppies, and kittens from his pet store. Chifuyu was certain that, just like in literature, he was to get a soulmate of his own. He was the star of his own novel: The Red String of Fate. He was so engrossed in it, in fact, that he swore he had seen a faint, red string carefully wrapped around his pinky. Chifuyu Matsuno yearned for the day in which he would meet 'the one'. Thus, he was blown away one afternoon as you stepped foot into his pet store, with a red string tied onto your pinky, and a naughty Peke J in your arms, bringing what seemed like a 'lost cat' back where it belonged.

"ONE SINGLE THREAD OF GOLD TIED ME TO YOU"

Because TAKASHI MITSUYA believed that, if he could describe the love of a soulmate with a color, he would say golden. All day, non-stop, his little sisters would gush about soulmates, giddily exclaiming how they are one hundred percent real. He would usually chuckle at his sisters' excitement, usually brushing it off as naiveness. He did not believe much in soulmates until he found himself arriving early to school to use the sewing machine to fix his uniform's lettering, only to find you, using his golden thread to sew letters onto what seemed like a uniform. A thread of gold, tying together two delinquents from opposite gangs. You became his muse, his reason to pursue design. It was no surprise that Takashi Mitsuya created a collection based on this secret love, filled with delicate, golden accents, as well as rough, shredded fabric, to symbolize the double lives of him and his soulmate. He titled the collection "The Thread of Gold."

"A STRING THAT PULLED ME OUT OF ALL THE WRONG ARMS RIGHT INTO THAT DIVE BAR"

A hazy, dreamlike encounter. It seemed to have been fate that tied you and DRAKEN together in a place where time slows down. A dive bar, located near Draken's repair shop, was the place in which you ended up, tired from your friends' constant set ups and blind dates as they 'helped' you find a partner. It was time for fate to step in, tugging on your string and pulling you from any dates and making you sit next to a handsome, blond man with a dragon tattoo on his temple at some random, unknown bar in the middle of Tokyo. Ordering the same drinks led to small talk, which led to him confessing that he was there to avoid his friends, as they tried setting him up with women after a breakup with his best friend's sister. Being stuck in the same situation, Draken had a thought pop up on his mind, and even though he was desperately trying to push it away, the sweet liquor had already gotten to him. "Do you think we're soulmates? 'Cause I think so". The dive bar ended up as the place where many dates took place, as it held the memories of being pulled together by the string of fate.

An Insomniac's Guide to Dreams

konoha akinori x reader words; 4580 synopsis; Maybe he could be her guide to accomplishing her dreams. The kind of dreams where a person falls in love and then magically, as if almost impossibly, stays in love. Konoha could be that for her. She just needed him to give her that opportunity.

Konoha looked at the clock, another 2 am shift that had kicked him from this universe into an entirely different one. Nothing was normal after two in the morning.

Especially not that hooded figure.

Definitely not the hooded figure that was lurking straight to the medicine aisle.

Konoha had been working at the pharmacy as a part-time job, hoping that he could use his experience working at the pharmacy to level up and finally apply to a pharmaceutical company after he had graduated college. He was 20 years old, and his older coworker had shifted his graveyard shift onto Konoha at the last minute.

The grey hoodie floated around until they found what they were looking for. Konoha was trying not to spy on them, but it was all he could do during the lateness of the hour.

She pulled her hoodie down when she slammed a bottle of melatonin gummies near the cash register.

Konoha recognized her from somewhere, he thought.

He scanned the bottle, then remembered he had to ask some questions before selling a drug like this to people.

Yawning, Konoha began the miniature spiel, “You need an ID to buy melatonin, can I see a driver’s license or other valid form of identification.”

She rubbed her dark eye bags and gave him a bored look.

“I don’t have my ID on me.”

Konoha responded, “I can’t sell you the melatonin then.” He grabbed the bottle and shoved it under the top of the table and she hit her forehead against the counter, slapping her hand repeatedly on the counter to draw attention to herself.

“You’re like what, 18 years old? Look me in the eye and tell me that I don’t look 18 years old as well.” She put her chin on the table and gave a huge pout, looking up at Konoha. He felt his mouth go dry.

“I can’t sell you the drugs.” Konoha wishes he could’ve, just the way her eyes glimmered a little in the dull light of the pharmacy had his heart experiencing minor afflictions.

“Really, not even for me?” She stood up to her full height, and leaned over the counter, propped up with her hands on the counter.

How much could an acquaintance from high school grow up in two years? Konoha was now realizing the reality of puberty, and maybe the reality of seeing people for more than their high school self.

He laughed when he realized it was her, the same 1st year from Nekoma who had followed him around during his last summer training camp in the volleyball club. Konoha laughed a little more, slightly delirious from a combination of seeing an old friend and from having stayed up for longer than 24 hours at this point.

He bought the melatonin gummies for her with his own money. He closed the store early, and locked it up as she cradled the bottle in her arms.

“Why are you still awake, isn’t school still in session for you? It's Wednesday?” He remembered that she must be in her final year of high school. Konoha tried to remember how many more days until she was going to graduate, it couldn’t have been more than a month or so.

She shook the jar, before pressing a quick kiss to the lid. “Insomnia is a clinical issue that happens to occur in around 6% of the adult population, it’s an actual disorder Akinori.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you really shouldn’t be out and about at this time. All the creeps come out at night.” Konoha shudders, he had been exposed to too many issues and body parts late at night.

“I ran out of my sweet, sweet, medicine.” She shrugged, and her hoodie slid off her shoulder a little, exposing skin to the cold air. She could feel the goosebumps crawl over her, so she gently rubbed the junction of her neck to her collarbone trying to generate warmth.

He started to toy with his fingers, wringing them out, avoiding looking at her exposed shoulder. And also definitely trying to ignore the way he saw a lack of a bra strap on her shoulder.

Konoha wants to ask how she’s been the last few years. He wonders if that’s something he should even ask. How close were they really?

He asked where she needed to go, and she said she needed to take a train with a few transfers to get back home.

“I’ll take you home, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. ‘Master of None’.” He throws her old nickname out into the wind, and she cringes, shutting her eyes tightly.

“Please don’t ever call me that again. What a horrible stain on my reputation.” She rubs the top of her head in discomfort, remembering her younger years teenage follies.

Konoha chuckles into his turtleneck, letting his tan-blond hair cover his eyes as he shakes his head a little.

“I only got called that because none of those Nekoma players would never ever listen to me. It’s like I wasn’t even a manager.”

“But, oh my saints, did you love that nickname when you realized my teammates called me ‘Jack of All Trades’- you tried to climb me and begged me to listen to you explain how our nicknames meant we were meant for each other.”

She coughed a little, feeling blood coursing to her cheeks, she just cuddled her container of chewables tighter.

Konoha realized he may have teased her a little too much, so he softened the blow of his words.

“You were a cute kid. Very passionate. You could talk for hours on end if there was someone listening.”

There was something about calling her a kid, when in reality that had only been just over two years ago. Konoha knew something was shifting in his mind, something that made him realize that he had missed her.

Longing felt like a bitter pill to swallow. Initially being separated from someone who he’d grown close to was painful, and it matted on his conscience. Then as time went on, that irritation of being away from her faded. Her coming in and shopping where he worked had been a catalyst for a reaction where he grasped just how much he had yearned for her. How much he still felt for her.

“Well, you got stuck with me because you were the only one nice enough to let me talk for hours on end.” She pointed out.

He doesn’t quite remember it like that.

She was an overzealous 16 year old, but he hadn’t known that. He was a lax 18 year old. She was a manager for the volleyball team at Nekoma because her grandpa was friends with Coach Nekomata. Her debate season had ended, but volleyball was still barrelling along.

It was a sense of pride, or perhaps intrigue that drove her to put all her focus on understanding volleyball so she could be the best manager possible.

The first day of camp, she was running around greeting all the other managers, bowing and telling them that she was ready and willing to learn from them. He thought she behaved a little bit like a raging storm, nothing able to stop her in her tracks. She was a whirlwind of excitement, and he couldn’t help but want to know who she was exactly.

“Akaashi, you’re smart, who’s that?” Konoha bent forward to touch his toes, stretching before the first practice round against Nekoma.

Akaashi blinked slowly, trying to solve a puzzle in his mind, “Well, guessing by the way she’s wearing a very red jacket, and the way that Kenma keeps avoiding her while she trails him with a water bottle- I’d have to deduce that she’s Nekoma’s manager.”

Konoha lifted his head, pulling his arms from side to side to embrace the tug of muscles in his body.

“They didn’t have a manager at the last practice match we played with them a month ago.”

“I think she just joined. Kuroo was talking to Bokuto about her earlier. Apparently, she can talk for ages.” Akaashi laughed a little, going over to the rest of the Fukurodani team.

Konoha dropped his arms to the side of his body, and when she finally turned around- successful in getting Kenma to drink some water- they locked eyes. He waved politely, and she grinned with all her teeth, almost jumping up a little.

He thought she was definitely cute. A little ball of energy sure, but she radiated something beyond just excitement, she carried a sense of eternal optimism. And that was something Konoha would’ve killed to have as a high school student. It wasn’t that he had an extreme form of depression, or that his anxiety was serious enough to warrant a prescription. But he did experience the ruins of chemical imbalances more so than the next person.

She was inclined to watch Konoha, because he seemed naturally good at all the elements of volleyball. He could do everything at a level that was higher than most, from solid foundational receives to a slightly more technical serve.

To say she was infatuated would be an overstatement, because she really was just a girl with a huge crush on a boy.

Instead of sitting with her own team at the lunch break she had made her way to Konoha, asking if she could sit with him. He looked around, and saw that Komi was using his hands to make an insistent gesture of ‘no’ by slicing his hands back and forth in front of his face.

He had ignored Komi and patted the spot next to him on the concrete stairs into the gym.

Akaashi had been right, she could talk about anything and everything, her mouth moving faster than Konoha’s own brain. He only got to make small remarks when she took a bite of her lunch, chewing on the rice quickly but thoroughly so she could keep going on about a movie she had seen last week.

“What do you think?” She looked at him with expectant eyes.

Konoha swallowed his chicken, “Of Better Days?”

She nodded rapidly, Konoha’s head almost hurt a little at the motion.

“I haven’t seen it, I’m not a big fan of international films.” He shrugged, eating another piece of chicken from his plate, looking out to see groups of boys mingling.

Not once during his time with her at that camp did he wish he had spent it with anyone else. He was completely content just listening to her talk, with her occasional periods of interview-like questions for him to answer. A few times during the camp he would sit at one of the regular tables with an agglomeration of fellow players, and she wouldn’t go over to him.

When he looked around though, she was sitting alone in the same spot they had sat at during the first day. Using her water bottle to draw shapes on the grey pavement steps. He tried to wave her over, but she knew how other people looked at her. They would get this sheen in their eyes that told her that they did not want to listen to her, but that only made her talk more, trying to prove her worth.

Konoha had finished his food quickly, grabbing his own water bottle and sitting next to her.

“Let’s work together to make a drawing of Kuroo as a cat.”

The way her mood shifted, from feeling the sting of loneliness to the thrill of getting to spend time with the person she deemed as the best looking boy at the camp, was extremely beneficial for her happiness.

He didn’t mind filling the role of her friend during camp. He did feel a slight scorn for all the other boys and girls at the camp though. It was rude to be so blatant about their dislike and irritation at her.

On the second to last day, Konoha woke up in the middle of the night, needing to go get water from the vending machine in the gymnasium.

He scratched at his stomach while putting in his coins. Then he saw her, in a thin strapped black tank top and short shorts. She was playing with a hacky sack, kicking it with her knee then when it would land on her foot, she shot it up so she could alternate feet.

She was talking to herself as well. He listened to her chatter about music, about art, about that annoying thorn she’d found in her shoes that made her foot bleed a little. He could listen to her talk forever and never get bored.

Konoha put another few coins in the machine, getting a second can of orange flavored water. She was in the main area of the gym, but she had been facing away from the entrance to the gym, so when Konoha cleared his throat, she dropped the fabric bag full of rice on her head.

“You shouldn’t wear a tank top, it's dangerous.” Konoha handed her the drink when she bounded up to him.

She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, “Why would it be dangerous?”

“Someone might think you’re trying to seduce me.” He joked, cracking open his can and taking a deep drink of the nectarine tinged fluid.

Her eyes went wide as she reached down to a bench where she had put her jacket, she slid her arms into the sleeves.

Konoha chewed the inside of his mouth a little. Maybe over the course of a week he’d gotten in over his own head, developing a slight attachment to her. He pushed the thought away, remembering that she looked slightly uncomfortable. He had created a mentality for himself, one where he was supposed to view her like a younger sister. Hell, he had a younger sister her same age.

His stomach twisted a little.

“Sorry. Sometimes my jokes don’t exactly land how I intend them to.” He brought the can up to his mouth again, needing something to lubricate his increasingly drying throat.

She zips her jacket all the way up, the collar comes up to her chin. “It’s alright.”

Konoha looks down to avoid eye contact, trying to find a way to diffuse the slight stagnation in the air, but his eyes only land on the plush of her bare thighs. He could feel his ears turning red when he saw how her shorts dug into her thighs a little, creating a divot, and then the rest of her thigh seemed even more thick.

“I heard that there’s supposed to be really bright stars tonight.” He offered, turning on his heels to exit the gym. She followed him closely.

When he stopped in the center of the field next to the gym, she rammed into his back, getting bounced backwards a little. He caught her by the arm, tugging her upright.

“Woah there, I don’t want you falling for me quite yet, I haven’t even shown you my best qualities.” He snorted slightly.

She buried her face in her jacket, he could see her furrowing her eyebrows in an abashed way. The butterflies in his stomach would not stop fluttering. The little sister comparison stopped right in that moment, as she gave him a shy downturned smile.

It couldn’t have been later than midnight at most, but the way that he kept dozing slightly and opening his mouth to fix the air pressure around his head let him know that he was staying up much longer than he should’ve.

But how could he not, when she was looking up at the sky with admiration.

He pointed to the stars that represented Orihime and Hikoboshi. Everyone knew the story of the two star crossed lovers, a princess and her cow-herder. They had been so in love that they failed to tend to their duties, so her father had separated the couple. They could only reunite every year on July 7th, when the magpies created a bridge for the couple over the milky way.

That night, that they sat together under the stars, had been July 7th.

“I can’t see them.” He could hear the way she was making a frowning face, upset at not being able to see what he could see.

“Here, let me help.” He scooted closer to her, the length of their sides against one another, as he lifted her hand and tried to point out the star Vega, for Orihime. When he was satisfied that she was pointing right at the star he checked in with her, “Do you see her?”

Her soft no comes from much too close to his face. In Konoha’s excitement, he had brought his head closer to hers, trying to replicate what she would be seeing as best as possible. They were almost cheek to cheek.

He pulled away slightly, just enough for some space to exist between them.

“I only see you.” She breathed out.

Konoha choked.

He immediately stood up.

“We have matches tomorrow, I have to get back to bed.”

She got up to her feet, nodding to Konoha’s words.

The last of camp, after all the games were played, and the barbeque devoured by rowdy teenagers.

She was helping to put away bags and other miscellaneous supplies into Nekoma’s bus. And Konoha was leaning against the bus that would take Fukurodani back to their school. Akaashi had shoved his duffel bag into the compartment under the bus and walked to Konoha.

“Kuroo told me that she’ll be their manager for the rest of the season, so she’ll be at Nationals, if Nekoma makes it.”

“Nekoma will make it.” Konoha stated it with finality. Akaashi could see how Konoha was staring at the way she was struggling to lift a heavier bag.

“You know you can go and help her right?” Akaashi inspected his fingernails, suppressing a grin.

Konoha reached into his backpack, ripping a piece of paper from his notebook and scrawling out his phone number. He passed his bag to Akaashi and tucked the slip of paper into his pocket.

She was trying to hoist the bag with her arms, leaning really far backwards. Konoha grabbed the handles of the bag from her and tossed the bag into the bus. She smiled and thanked him.

“Fukurodani’s bus leaves in another hour or so, when are you supposed to head out?” Konoha leant on his shoulder against Nekoma’s bus.

“In around thirty minutes.”

So he asked her what she was going to do over the next few days, and she talked.

She had gotten through around fifteen minutes of talking and was in her zone, completely engrossed in following the rabbit hole of her own mind. Konoha’s hand was sweaty, as he tried to think of just the right pocket in her black backpack to slip his number into.

Eventually, Coach Nekomata told the team to gather around and she bowed to Konoha, saying her goodbye to him.

He just grabbed her by the loop at the top of the bag, rushing to put the paper into the main section of the backpack. She tried to walk forward but was tugged into staying in place with Konoha’s grip.

“Uh, yes?”

“Get home safely.” Konoha beamed, “Alright?”

“Alrighty.” She tilted her head back and forth, twisting her shoulders in a content giddiness.

He moved his head up to the sky and tightened his face, “So cute.”

She wiggled a little, and he released her bag. She asked, “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Okie dokie.” She held onto the straps of her backpack, shifting it around to be comfortable on her back.

She walked over to her team, letting Coach Nekomata pat her head a little bit.

Konoha rubbed his face, climbing into his bus and slumping into his seat. Bokuto got into the seat in front of him, but turned around and put his chin on the top of the chair to face Konoha.

“What’s with the sour attitude, Mr. Jack of All Trades?” Bokuto made a face of intense focus, intent on Konoha’s potential answer.

Akaashi put a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, giving the answer Konoha couldn’t articulate, “He’s fallen for Nekoma’s first year manager.”

Konoha stood up, not realizing he had put his seatbelt on, so he got rope burn around his neck as the seatbelt prevented him from actually going anywhere, “She’s a first year student!?”

Akaashi laughed, grabbing onto his stomach. Bokuto’s jaw dropped.

“You’ve been hanging around her all week and you neglected to ask what year she was in Konoha-san?” Akaashi wiped tears of humor from his eyes.

Konoha groaned, pulling his legs onto the seat as he hugged them.

Bokuto looked at Akaashi, “Well he’s positively forlorn. Did I use that word right?”

Akaashi nodded.

Konoha helped her get onto the train, making sure she didn’t trip from the platform to the main portion of the train. The train was mostly empty, with a few people standing or sitting a fair distance apart.

They sat side by side and she opened the container of her melatonin, lifting the lid to her nose so she could smell the berry flavored medicine.

Konoha folded his arms, bringing one leg to rest over the other.

“You know, I was surprised when, after the camp, you didn’t contact me at all.” Konoha felt a little strange, asking about something from what he deemed as a long time ago.

“How would I have contacted you? Believe me I did want to keep in touch, but we never exchanged numbers.” Just smelling the melatonin had her a little bit sleepier.

“I, uh, I put my number into your bag. When everyone was getting ready to leave, I put a piece of paper into your black bag.” Konoha rubbed his arm, getting ready to accept that maybe he had been the only one to have developed a crush that week.

“Oh, I didn’t bring a backpack to the camp. It must have been someone else’s that I was wearing.”

Konoha slumped into the seat further.

She had finally made the connections in her brain.

“You liked me!”

“It was kind of hard not to.”

“And here I was, living my entire high school life thinking that I had been head over heels for someone who had never liked me back.” She said simply.

“Had been? As in, no longer?”

She pursed her lips a little, tapping her chin.

“There’s something about the phrase ‘had been’. It carries a sense of loss, it carries with it a feeling of belonging. Like what had been was extremely personal.”

“You make no sense sometimes.” Konoha chuckles into his words.

“Maybe something better to say is, here I am. Living life wondering when we’d meet again.”

The train came to a halt, and he checked that this was the stop they would get off on. She tucked her bottle of drugs into her hoodie pocket. The street was entirely empty, and the street lights flickered a little from time to time.

“So, you want to go into pharmaceuticals?”

“Yeah, it’s a decently lucrative business, comfortable enough to live life with some extra money for this and that.”

They stood under the flickering street lamp, Konoha digging the toe of his foot into the concrete ground.

She felt a little bit like the world had frozen in time. Here he was, after two years, drawn to her yet again. She hummed for a moment. Then make a request for Konoha.

“Wait for me.”

Konoha lifted his head to make eye contact with her. Tilting his head a little, he made a look that could only be defined as inquisitive.

She really did love him. Call it instantaneous love, her crush that she had held onto for much longer than necessary, but she felt something for this sandy-haired drug dealer of hers. The way his light brown eyes almost seemed like a rushing sand dune in the right lack of light. Or the way that he had subconsciously reduced their distance from their walk, train ride, to now standing inches apart.

What kind of a person was he to show kindness to an annoying first year, taking her under his wing for an entire week. Solving emotional worries, relieving anxieties of where to sit or who to talk to, making her feel at home in a place that had decidedly rejected her before it even got to know her.

Maybe he could be her guide to accomplishing her dreams. The kind of dreams where a person falls in love and then magically, as if almost impossibly, stays in love. Konoha could be that for her. She just needed him to give her that opportunity.

“Wait for me, one more year, once I graduate. Let’s date.” She grabs his hand, and he lets her. She clears her throat a little, “Let’s give love a shot?”

“I think I’d like that a lot. It’s a deal.”

Dreams aren’t reality. Because sometimes reality is better than a dream.

She was chewing away at a piece of literature, trying to dissect Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams novel for her Sleep Science class. Becoming a Sleep Scientist wouldn’t do much for her own horrible sleep schedule if she wanted to make it through her Doctorate successfully. Despite Konoha telling her that sleeping was important for her well-being, she had the tendency to ignore what he said sometimes- it would only be one more all-nighter anyway.

He’s asleep in their bed, nuzzled into her pillow and not his own. He’s wearing one of her hoodies to bed, her favorite one from high school that had been two sizes too big.

The beige highlighter reminds her of Konoha, and she has to rip her eyes away from him to get back to her book.

Work at the pharmaceutical company had been long, especially with the rolling out of their new drug the past few weeks. Konoha was the head of the project and needed to be at work almost twice as much, even though he felt bad leaving her alone in their apartment for long intervals of time. He always brought home bagels and an apology disc, of a movie she had been wanting to watch, for her to add to her collection of physical copies of movie CDs.

Their shared shelving system was an agglomeration, her DVDs and books on one side of the shelf, and then his photos, astrology novels and miniature telescopes on the other side.

When she accidentally dropped the highlighter onto the floor, Konoha’s head shot up. It was a mess of dirty blond hair from sleeping.

“Aki, go back to sleep.” She coaxed.

“No, it’s cold when you’re not here.” He turned around and opened his arms to put emphasis on his point. “I’m basically a snowman right now.”

She closed her book, tucking the bookmark in. Slinking her way from the desk to the bed, only to slump into his arms and hug him tightly.

“Much better.” He slides over to his side so she can lay out on the bed more comfortably, and she brings her legs to lay on the bed. “I’m all warm now, thanks to you.”

Sometimes a dream is just a girl with the boy who made her feel seen.

Other times a dream is a boy who finally finds someone to let him feel a little more happy everyday.

THISBWAS SO CUTE ILYSM FOR THIS 😢😢😢

hey hey!!! I read your social anxiety fic with megumi and just wanted to say first, that it was amazing like actually shit got me tearing up at how sweet it was 😭

And secondly!! Could I maybe request a Megumi x Reader who tends to cling on people she trust's arms alot? But after meeting Megumi she starts to only cling to him. Like full on arm wrapped around his one arm. Sorry if it's too much and have a nice day!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀CLING-CLINK .ᐟ

megumi fushiguro x 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

☆ before meeting you, megumi often sees you around school, always clinging into yuuta's arm, even satoru gojo's arm like when a child learns how to cross the street and have to hold into their parents, until he meets you.

fluff, p.s i'm sorry if i don't make your request good enough, but i hope you like it :)

megumi fushiguro stood in the distance, his gaze fixed on a scene unfolding across the school grounds. the golden hues of the setting sun cast long shadows, creating an almost surreal backdrop. among the students scattered about, one figure caught his attention. you were walking with satoru gojo, clinging tightly to his arm, your face lit up with a radiant smile. gojo, as always, exuded his usual charm, his blindfold hiding his eyes but not the amusement on his face. the two of you seemed completely absorbed in your conversation, oblivious to the world around you.

megumi squinted, trying to place you. you looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite pinpoint where he'd seen you before. the way you clung to gojo's arm so naturally, so effortlessly, stirred something in him. it wasn't jealousy, exactly, but a mix of curiosity. “who is she?” megumi wandered to himself, watching as you laughed at something gojo said. “and why is she always so close to him?”

he had noticed you a few times before, always attached to someone else's arm— mostly your teacher, satoru gojo and the second year student, yuuta okkotsu, always so animated and lively. it wasn't just gojo; you seemed to have a habit of clinging to people. it puzzled him. was it a sign of affection? a need for reassurance? or just a part of your personality?

megumi wasn't one to judge, but he found it difficult to understand. he preferred his own space, his own quiet corner of the world. the idea of being so physically close to someone, especially in such a public setting, was foreign to him.

as he watched, gojo said something that made you throw your head back in laughter, your grip on his arm tightening momentarily. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely. still, the question lingered in his mind. why did you always cling to people like that? was it a habit, a comfort, or something more?

yet he found himself another encounter of you with his senpai, yuuta okkotsu. that day megumi fushiguro stood in the shadow of a tall tree, his eyes scanning the school grounds as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over everything. his gaze settled on a familiar figure in the distance. you were walking with yuuta okkotsu, your arm firmly looped around his as you strolled together.

yuuta, with his kind and calm demeanor, seemed perfectly at ease with you by his side. he wore his usual gentle smile, listening attentively to whatever you were saying. your animated gestures and bright laughter filled the air, making it clear how much you enjoyed his company.

megumi's brow furrowed slightly as he watched. you, always close to someone, always with that same cheerful energy. it was almost like you thrived on the connection, the physical closeness to others. “why is she always like that?” megumi thought to himself, his mind drifting back to the other times he'd seen you, clinging to one, two, max three people around the school. it wasn't just yuuta—he'd noticed you with others too, always the same, always so tactile and open. he couldn't help but feel a bit perplexed.

as you and yuuta continued to walk, yuuta said something that made you laugh, your grip on his arm tightening slightly, just like how you were with gojo. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely and without reservation.

but the same question remained. why did you always cling to people like that? eas it a habit, a comfort, or something deeper?

“maybe she's just really friendly,” he mused, recalling how at ease you seemed with both gojo and yuuta. “or maybe she needs that kind of connection to feel secure,” he thought about the way you laughed with gojo, how your whole face lit up with genuine happiness. then he remembered how relaxed and content yuuta looked with you by his side, as if your presence was a natural part of his day. it wasn't just that you clung to people; it was the way you seemed to bring out something brighter in them, a lightness that megumi couldn't ignore.

“is she like that with everyone?” he wondered. “or is there something special about gojo and yuuta?” the thought nagged at him. he couldn't quite place why it bothered him so much. was it jealousy? curiosity? or simply a desire to understand something so different from his own nature?

megumi fushiguro sat in the shadows, watching you from afar, his mind swirling with a thousand 'what ifs.' he couldn't understand why such a simple thing—someone clinging to another—bothered him so much. it was common enough, something he saw every day, yet whenever it involved you, it gnawed at him. he wonder and wonder why, how, where, and when about you. it's just a simple thing, everyone clinging to everyone, but why does it bother him that much?

“why does it affect me like this?” he thought, frustration bubbling inside him. “why do i care so much?” it wasn't just about you clinging to others. it was how people reacted around you, how comfortable they became in your presence. they acted as if having you wrapped around them was as natural as breathing, as easy as walking, even though it should have been a hindrance. it baffled him how seamlessly you fit into their lives.

how he feel if he's the one you clinging to?

at one point, the one 'what if' crossing his mind, the thought slipped, unbidden, and since that day, megumi couldn't shake it. the curiosity melted inside him, merging with his blood, becoming a part of him. every time he saw you, the question lingered, refusing to let go.

days turned into weeks, and the thought only grew stronger, until one day, fate gave megumi a chance to get to know you. he approached cautiously, his usual stoic expression hiding the turmoil inside. he found you to be warm, bright, full of life. your energy was infectious, your smile lighting up even the darkest corners of his mind.

he worried that he might extinguish your light if he got too close, afraid that his touch might dim your radiance. but then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, you wrapped your delicate arms around his. megumi's heart raced, pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. he'd never felt anything like this before. it was as if a bell rang inside his mind, each beat of his heart echoing with the sound. your touch was gentle, yet it set his nerves alight, a single act of affection that shook him to his core.

in that instant, megumi realized why it had bothered him so much. it wasn't just about the act of clinging; it was about the person. It was about you. the thought of you being close to others had ignited a jealousy he hadn't recognized, a longing he hadn't understood.

and now, as you clung to his arm, megumi swore he could feel his world shift. in that moment, he knew that your warmth, your light, was something he wanted to protect, to cherish. and for the first time, he welcomed the feeling, embracing the connection you offered with open arms.

“fushigurooo,” your honey voice, echoes through the wooden wall of your school. a bright smile reached your eyes, shaping them into crescents as you skipped your way over to him. you were always full of life, a burst of sunshine on even the dullest days.

yuuta was there, but you don't even spare the boy a glance, your arms finds their own home naturally— megumi's arm. the second year and the first year decided to go on break after the training that day, strolling around tokyo for treat with gojo's money.

“fushiguro, how's your day?” you ask him, smiling as you look up at the taller boy. megumi looks down at you, watching how you comfortably clung around his arm, refusing to let go.

smiling, the blue-irised boy answered, “it was good, y/n, how's yours?” he pulled his arm closer to his body, and with his expectation you followed along until there was no void, a distance megumi refused to stand. the tumultuous roads of tokyo, but all he could ever listen to was your sweet voice, telling him about how's your day going. the chaos of the city faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, walking

the streets of tokyo were alive with energy, filled with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional honk of a car horn. despite the chaos, megumi's focus remained on you. you animatedly recounted your day, your voice a soothing melody amid the city's cacophony.

yuuta walked a few steps behind, giving the two of you space. he couldn't help but smile at the sight, understanding that something special was unfolding. gojo, always the observer, watched with a knowing grin from the back, making a mental note to tease megumi about it later.

as you continued to talk, your hand lightly squeezed megumi's arm. “and then, we tried this new dessert place. you have to come with me next time, fushiguro. the matcha parfaits are to die for.” megumi chuckled softly, his usual stoic expression softened by your enthusiasm. “i’ll keep that in mind. it sounds good.” you beamed up at him, your eyes twinkling. “it really is! oh, and guess what? i found this adorable bookstore tucked away in a side street. they have the cutest stationery.”

megumi nodded, listening intently, savoring each detail you shared. he found himself looking forward to these moments more and more, where he could just listen to you, forgetting about everything else.

the group eventually reached a cozy café, its exterior adorned with fairy lights and flowering plants. gojo, ever the generous mentor, insisted on treating everyone. you pulled megumi inside, your excitement contagious as you marveled at the menu. “what are you getting, fushiguro?” you asked, glancing up at him with those bright, expectant eyes. megumi scanned the menu briefly before deciding. “maybe just a coffee and a pastry. what about you?”

you giggled, nudging him playfully. “you’re so predictable. i think i'll go for the strawberry shortcake and a matcha latte.” as you made your decision, megumi chuckled lightly at your predictable choice. megumi rolled his eyes at your comment, a light smile playing on his lips. “and you’re too extravagant with your tastes,” e teased, his eyes flickering over the menu, scanning the options before settling for a black coffee and a small blueberry tart.

“seriously, always with the sweets.”

as light as a feather, teasing lingering in his voice the moment his soft smile reached you. after placing your orders, you found a cozy corner to sit in. he followed you to the booth, leaning against it casually as they waited to order. megumi noticed how you made sure to stay close, your arm brushing against his side as you continued to cling to his arm. it was a small gesture, but it made his heart race.

“honestly, your sweet tooth knows no bounds,” he teased, eyeing the array of pastries behind the glass display case. “i’m amazed you don’t turn into a sugar cube after all the sweets you consume.”

“oh come on,” you retorted with a small giggle, smacking his arm playfully. “i don't consume that much sugar. it's called enjoying life, you should try it sometime.” megumi chuckled lightly at your retort, his gaze lazily drifting towards the pastries on display. “enjoying life is one thing. drowning it in excessive sweetness is another.” he shot you a teasing smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement.

you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance, giving his arm another light smack. “you’re just being a party pooper. i bet you're secretly jealous because I know how to savor the little things.” megumi chuckled again, enjoying the lighthearted banter. he found himself getting more comfortable as the conversation continued, the ease of your presence making it feel natural. but even with the casual teasing, a hint of affection snuck into his voice.

“jealous? if your sugar addiction? hardly.”

“shut up, just let me be,” you murmur, your voice tender and suffused with warmth. your arms, once wrapped around him, slowly release their hold and slide down to gently grasp his large hand. the warmth of your touch lingers through the fabric of his uniform, yet it ignites a searing sensation within him.

his gaze descends to where your hand clasps his thumb, noting the delicate strength in your touch. the crimson flush on your cheeks deepens as you avert your gaze, trying to hide the tumult of emotions roiling within. his heart quickens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the connection between you both deepening with each intertwining motion.

in that quiet, intimate moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. the warmth of your hands melds with his, bridging the space between your hearts, creating a sanctuary of understanding and unspoken promises.

as the minutes passed, the conversation flowed naturally. you talked about everything and nothing, your laughter a soothing balm to megumi's usually serious demeanor. the bustling café seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

when the food arrived, you eagerly shared your dessert with megumi, insisting he try a bite. he obliged, savoring the sweet taste and the way your eyes lit up when he complimented it. “this is good,” he admitted, causing you to grin triumphantly. “i told you so,” you replied, your voice filled with delight. as the day turned into evening, the group eventually decided it was time to head back. you clung to megumi's arm once more, your presence a comforting constant. megumi's mind was filled with a thousand thoughts, each one circling back to you.

and in that moment, he realized that having you by his side wasn't just something he tolerated. it was something he cherished. you were the warmth in his life, the light that made even the busiest streets of tokyo feel like home.

the touch of your hand intertwined with his began to stir something deep within him. the vibrant cityscape of tokyo seemed to blur into the background as he focused on the warmth that lingered between your fingers. it was in this quiet, intimate moment that a profound realization dawned upon him.

he recalled the countless times he had seen you with others—always reaching out, always seeking a connection. it wasn’t merely the physical closeness you sought; it was something far more significant. your gestures were not just idle habits; they were expressions of trust and comfort, woven into the fabric of your interactions.

but now, as he looked down at your hand nestled in his, the truth became unmistakable. since the first time he had encountered you, your warmth and openness had been evident, but with him, there was a different layer of you, how each layer you handed to him with an open heart. you had always clung to him with a special kind of trust, a quiet confidence that set him apart from everyone else.

a sudden wave of humility washed over megumi. the way you rested your hand in his, the way you leaned into his presence, spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings. it was clear now that you saw him as someone steadfast and reliable, someone worthy of your most genuine trust. this simple, yet profound connection was a testament to how much you valued him.

as he felt the gentle pressure of your fingers against his, megumi's heart swelled with a newfound understanding. the touch was more than a mere physical contact; it was an embodiment of the bond that had grown between you. he was the only person you had allowed to be this close, to hold your trust in such a profound way.

he squeezed your hand softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had woven itself so seamlessly into their lives. It was a silent vow—a promise to cherish and honor the trust you had bestowed upon him. in that fleeting moment, as the city’s din faded into insignificance, megumi felt the weight of the trust you had given him and knew it was a precious gift he would hold close to his heart.

I CRY 😢😢😢

❝Despite everything, it's still you.❞

a quote from undertale that made me really think of yuta :) so i really wanted to draw this out

im feral.

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A WHAT???? 📢

ac: takk1m on twt

based on this: