pomegranate ink | y. okkotsu

xiv

a/n: this chapter is like the typical pomegranate ink stupidity but super bloody edition

Megumi Fushiguro was not at all what you had expected. Actually, you weren't sure what you had been expecting, but whatever that may have been, the boy in front you was certainly contrary to it. He reminded you a little of Yuta, but harsher, sharper, his eyes a stony green compared to Yuta's limpid blue, his brows furrowed with a permanent irritation instead of mournfully upturned the way Yuta's usually were.

"I wish you guys would talk," Gojo muttered after a few minutes.

"I'm Megumi Fushiguro," Megumi said stiffly, like even saying the words pained him. You smiled tentatively, wondering if this could be considered a personal insult or if he was just like this with everyone.

"It's nice to meet you, Megumi. I'm Y/N L/N," you said. You realized belatedly that you should've referred to him as Fushiguro, but Gojo had only ever called him Megumi, so you had begun to think of him as such. He did not get upset about it, however, only shoving his hands in his pockets and training his gaze on the ground.

"Nice to meet you, too, L/N," he said, and now instead of stiff he just sounded extraordinarily shy.

"You can call me Y/N," you said. "Since you're letting me call you Megumi and all."

"Sure," he said. "Y/N."

"Yay, I'm so glad you're getting along!" Gojo squealed, clapping his hands together. The most baleful look you had ever seen a person don flitted over Megumi's face, and you muffled a laugh.

"We're only getting along because you're forcing us to!" he hissed. Gojo shrugged innocently, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

"So, you're my underclassman," you said, peering at him curiously, an examination for which he stood perfectly still, not even daring to breathe. "Do you respect me?"

"You're a grade one sorcerer," he said. "I respect how strong you are."

"I see," you said. "You're clever with that — the whole art of the non-answer, I mean. It's admirable. And you're right, I am a grade one sorcerer! I'd say that'd make me somewhat respectable, even if I weren't your upperclassman."

"Correct," he said.

"Wait, can I be your favorite?" you said.

"What?" he said.

"I want to be your favorite! The one you ask for advice and help with training! The one you go to when you're feeling down in the dumps or when you want to celebrate!" you said, your eyes turning to metaphorical stars at the thought of being something like Megumi's mentor. Now that you were the most established of your classmates, a first grade compared to everyone else's lower ranking, you thought that you deserved to be considered a reliable and trustworthy upperclassman.

"Our techniques aren't really that similar at all," he said. "I think I'd find more merit from training with Maki Zenin or Tullia Ferraro."

You frowned, put out by the blunt answer, feeling your dreams literally crumbling down around you. Gojo patted you on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, there's another first year who'll be here somewhat soon. Maybe you can be her favorite," he said.

"Okay," you said. Megumi looked around the room uncomfortably.

"Can I go yet?" he said.

"Do you not enjoy finally getting to meet your hero?" Gojo said, opening his arms with a dramatic flourish. "I thought you'd be a little more excited about getting to meet the Y/N L/N!"