Chapter Text
The first time both Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto both met Megumi Fushiguro, after their… association with Toji Fushiguro and the responsibilities of his death Megumi was interrupted during his walk home bye those two and proceeded to insult their bloodlines
“If you two idiots want to kidnap me you have to take my sister” and then snarled and scared him off…
Gojo stared down at the six-year-old in surprise.
The six-year-old Megumi, who honestly looked like a pissed off sea urchin, stared right back.
No one blinked.
“Suguru,” Gojo finally said, “your son just assaulted me.”
“He’s not my son, whose god damn baby is this.”
Megumi stood there..
“Correction. Our son assaulted me.”
Megumi glanced up, “Who are you guys?”
This was going to be a long day.
⸻
The mission itself had been simple.
Too simple.
Yaga sending them out to retrieve the Fushiguro kids and prepare to send them to the Zenin’s.
The problem was what they found afterward.
Or rather—
Who.
A small house sat at the edge of town, looking half-abandoned down a street in a run down neighborhood. The windows were dirty, the paint peeling.
And standing outside was a boy.
Dark hair.
Sharp blue eyes.
A stubborn expression that looked far too old for someone his age.
The moment Geto saw him, something felt familiar.
Then the realization hit.
“Fushiguro.”
The boy stiffened.
“How do you know that name?”
Gojo immediately looked between them.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Geto repeated.
“Oh.”
Geto resisted the urge to throw him into a wall.
“Well we are here to send you off to the Zenin’s…”
Megumi blinked, “Can my sister live there with me and live a good life too?”
Satoru and Suguru exchanged a glance at each other’s expressions and smirked; “Absolutely not kid.”
—————————————
weeks earlier, before everything changed, Geto and Gojo had crossed paths with a non- sorcerer, well more like a sorcerer assassin named Toji Fushiguro.
Megumi’s father.
The resemblance was impossible to miss.
The eyes were different.
But the expression?
The stubbornness?
Unmistakable.
⸻
The boy crossed his arms.
“What will you do then, because me and Tsumiki are not going to the Zenin clan.”
His voice was cautious.
Defensive.
Like he expected every adult to want something from him.
Geto crouched to his level.
“What if you two can have a place to live together comfortably with care?”
Megumi clearly didn’t believe him.
“Then why are you here?”
“We sent here by our ‘’boss’.”
“You don’t look like workers.”
Gojo gasped with the ugliness of a rotten lychee sold in a market before gaining a sassy accent and attitude.
“Excuse me. I’ll have you know I’m a highly respected professional.”
Megumi looked him up and down.
At the sunglasses.
At the expensive clothes.
At the bag of candy sticking out of his pocket.
“…No.”
Geto covered his mouth. “You gonna take that?”
Gojo looked personally offended.
⸻
The conversation should have ended there.
Instead, Megumi’s stomach growled.
Loudly.
The boy’s face immediately darkened.
Gojo’s grin disappeared.
Geto noticed it too.
The house behind him looked empty and barren.
Not untidy.
Empty.
A subtle but important difference.
No signs of recent groceries.
No sounds from the insides.
No indication anyone was taking care of him.
Geto exchanged a glance with Gojo.
For once, neither needed to say anything.
“Megumi!!” Tsumikis voice rang out, “who are these people?”
⸻
An hour later, they were sitting in a small restaurant.
Megumi was halfway through his second bowl of food, Tsumiki was devouring her Udon teriyaki noodles.
He hadn’t spoken much. Tsumiki was chattering loud and excitedly
Hadn’t smiled once. He was very different from Tsumiki
But they were both eating like someone who wasn’t sure when their next meal would be.
Geto hated that.
Gojo hated it too.
Though he expressed it differently.
“You know,” Gojo said casually, “you’re kind of tiny.”
Megumi froze.
“I’m four.”
Tsumiki was quick to respond “I’m five!”
“Exactly. Megumi be at least twelve feet tall by now, and you Tsumikj should be sixteen feet tall!” Gojo implied it as a light hearted gesture to lighten the mood but it only tensed the table up.
Megumi stared. He exchanged a look with Tsumiki who was oblivious and smiling
Geto stared in horror, Gojo CANNOT be more awkward.
The waitress stared.
“What?”
“That’s not how children work,” Geto said.
“Says who?”
“Literally everyone.”
Tsumiki let out giggles, Megumi snorted.
A tiny sound.
Barely noticeable.
But it was the first hint of amusement they’d seen from him.
Gojo immediately pointed.
“He laughed.”
“I didn’t.”
“He laughed.”
“I didn’t.”
Geto smiled at the interaction.
“Mr. Geto, why is your hair so long? My hair is not as long as that! Ouh can you teach me how to do that bun!”
“Yes dear, lets finish eating first, order as much as you want.”
⸻
They learned pieces of the story over the next few hours.
Not everything.
Megumi wasn’t the type to reveal his feelings to strangers, Tsumiki was sharing details, but they were not completely straight.
But enough.
Both fathers and Mothers were gone, they are step siblings, and they would supply their needs by bare minimum.
Their home situation was unstable.
And despite being far too young, Megumi had already learned not to expect help from adults.
That part bothered Geto most.
The certainty.
The way Megumi spoke as if disappointment was simply a fact of life.
As if he’d accepted it years ago.
Tsumiki had hope, she clung on for the help and support she might get. That part broke both of them.
⸻
By sunset, they were preparing to leave.
The responsible thing would be to contact the appropriate authorities.
To report what they’d found.
To walk away.
Instead, Geto found himself kneeling in front of Megumi and Tsumiki one last time.
“Do you have anywhere safe to stay?”
Megumi hesitated.
Too long.
The answer was obvious.
“Yes..?”
Something twisted painfully in Geto’s chest.
Beside him, Gojo was unusually quiet.
A rare occurrence.
Then Gojo crouched beside him. Yanking his shoulders as Geto shifted by Tsumiki’s side and combing her hair out.
“Hey.”
Megumi looked up.
“Do you two want to come home with us?”
Silence.
The sounds of the street seemed distant.
Megumi blinked, gazed at Tsumiki.
“Why?”
The question was immediate.
Suspicious.
As though kindness itself needed an explanation.
Geto didn’t know what hurt more—that Megumi asked it, or that he clearly expected an answer.
Gojo’s expression softened.
Just slightly.
Because beneath all the jokes and nonsense, Gojo understood things like this better than most people.
“Because,” he said simply, “you two shouldn’t be alone.”
Megumi looked away. He gazed at the house, the one he grew up with, with Tsumiki by his side
The evening wind rustled his hair.
For a moment, he seemed impossibly small.
Just a kid.
Not a future sorcerer.
Not a prodigy.
Not someone carrying burdens he never asked for.
Just a child, looking out for his sister.
⸻
The ride home was quiet.
Megumi sat in the back seat, with his head next to Tsumiki’s, watching the city lights pass by.
Gojo drove.
Poorly. Everyone felt like they were going to die… genuinely
Geto spent most of the trip reminding him that traffic laws existed.
At one point, Megumi spoke as Tsumiki was sleeping against the car door.
“So…”
Geto turned.
“So?”
“You’re both weird.”
Gojo looked delighted.
“He likes us.”
“I didn’t say that.”
But for the first time that day, there was no real hostility in his voice, he was clearly different from Tsumiki.
Only exhaustion.
And maybe
Just maybe
The beginning of trust.
Neither Geto nor Gojo knew it then.
They couldn’t have.
They didn’t know that this quiet boy would become family.
That years later they would call them their parents without thinking.
That the apartment suite would eventually be filled with arguments, laughter, and the kind of happiness neither man had believed they deserved.
All they knew was that a lonely pair of siblings had needed someone.
And for the first time in a long time, they were in a position to help.
So they did.
And everything changed after that.