A Perfectly Good, Thoroughly Ruined, Morning

Hey y'all. Currently mourning the fact that I've caught all the way up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga and now have to wait for each new chapter to come out. I know, poor me. Suppose we'll just have fill the void with my favorite genre of fluff in the meantime. It's not canon, but I like the foster relationship that Gojo and Megumi could have had so I've decided to pretend it exists with a quick hurt/comfort fic. Hope y'all enjoy!

...

The day wasn't unlike any other. Wake up, get to school, ponder the cruelty of reality, eat, go home, rinse, and repeat. Maybe he'd spice it up and fight a senior high school student for being a leech on society, for failing to contribute to the greater good. It'd piss his stepsister off, but he wasn't too averse to her scolding. If he was being honest with himself, he liked the idea that someone on this hell-hole earth was so invested in him and his wellbeing that his actions frustrated them. He could count those souls on one hand: Tsumiki, Gojo… actually that was the whole list. There were only two people who he cared about and who cared about him.

He pondered the size of his diminutive inner circle over some microwaved tofu and easy-to-make miso soup. Usually, Tsumiki got up earlier than this to make breakfast for the two of them, but she was running late this morning, so Megumi didn't mind picking up the slack here and there. Although, he hoped she didn't want anything more than soup for breakfast as he was a pretty miserable cook.

With his poor excuse for sustenance depleted, Megumi returned to the ever-important task of introspection, staring out the window of their high-rise apartment. He was always good company to himself, having been more or less on his own since childhood, and he always had the best conversations with himself. He had no clue why his stepsister was always trying to force him to make friends, his time with others was rarely as pleasant as his time alone with his thoughts.

Turning his attention to the digital clock above the stove, Megumi turned his pondering towards the only blood family member he had left. Well, now that he thought about it, not even Tsumiki was related by blood, just by the whims of two stupid adults with better things to do than raise their kids. Megumi wasn't offended, he'd imagine that if his father was anything like him, he would hate to be tied down too. That's why Megumi didn't want kids, but he was only 14 and that should probably be a future version of himself's decision.

The youngest in the house finally sighed and moved from his post to take care of the empty dishes. Tsumiki's portion sat untouched across the table. If she isn't finished getting ready soon, she won't have time to eat, he thought to himself. The ticking clock was starting to pressure him. Their mornings were always calm and regimented with plenty of time to spare; he'd hate to start his day by running for the train. Similarly, he'd hate to rush Tsumiki getting ready, he was sure she was already pressured by their time constraint since she hadn't woken up in time to make their standard morning meal.

Megumi Fushiguro was at a crossroads. He really didn't want to pressure his sister any further, but maybe he ought to ask if she wanted him to get something that was better to eat on the go. However, he'd have to intrude on her space and he didn't want to catch her in an awkward state of undress. She'd never needed prodding in the mornings before, maybe he should just wait a few more minutes. The young man found himself looking back at her bedroom door with ever-increasing frequency as he expounded upon his indecision.

He sighed. They were going to be late if this kept up, he should at least check on her.

Megumi tried to ignore the sense of unease that surrounded his walk across the studio to the white door on the far wall. His gut had been telling him all morning that something was wrong, but that wasn't unusual for the somewhat nervous kid. However, now, as the time ticked away and the morning drew further and further away from their normal timeline, that unease seemed to grow.

"Tsumiki?" her younger brother tried, knocking on the door as he called her name.

When there was no response, a whirlwind of inane thoughts crept their way into Megumi's head. What if she wasn't there? Had she been home last night? Was there something on the calendar today that he had forgotten about? Was it the weekend? Did they not even have class today?

The questions reeled around in his skull and Megumi stood to wonder if he was actually good company to himself after all, his internal dialogue only fraying his nerves. He would have to intrude, there was no way around it. God, he really hoped she wasn't standing there in a bra. Or even worse, standing there without one.

Averting his eyes due to the possibility, the young man opened the door slightly and poked his head inside. Her lights were still off, curtains still drawn, dimming the room considerably. The hair on the back of Megumi's neck bristled with discomfort. This was very, very out of the ordinary. He moved further into the space and quickly had his nerves calmed by a visible lump under the covers of a twin-sized mattress in the corner of the room.

Relaxing tense shoulders and releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, Megumi strode over to wake his sister. He supposed she was allowed to oversleep once in her high school career. The sense of dread wasn't warranted, but he would soon have to contend with her spastic energy as they might be riding the timeline a little too closely to get to school on time. He found himself leaning over her and abruptly noted that she definitely didn't wear a bra under her sleep shirt.

He blushed furiously and shook himself off. In his defense, he was a 14-year-old boy and was doing his level best to be courteous about this. He didn't have many interactions with other girls.

"Tsumiki?" He managed to blurt out.

She didn't move.

"Tsumiki?" He tried again, shaking her shoulder gently.

Still nothing.

"Tsumiki!" He tried harder. Practically shaking her out of bed this time.

Something was indeed wrong.

Megumi started grabbing her shoulders, rolling her head back and forth, trying desperately to wake her up. That sense of dread was clearly warranted and back with newfound intensity. With every failed action, the younger boy's heart rate quickened. His hands began to shake as he ran out of tasks to busy them with. The room was starting to spin and there was a slight ringing in his ears.

Deciding that trying to push his sister around wasn't getting him anywhere, Megumi grabbed his phone out of his school blazer pocket. He took a few breaths to calm himself down whilst scrolling through the contact list. He would not panic, not in front of others. His thumb landed on the calling card for a one "Gojo, Satoru."

Holding it to his ear, Megumi began to pace the still darkened room. He circled around in the shape of the rug on the floor while Gojo took his dear sweet time to pick up. But he finally did.

"Yo, Meg, what's up?" The speaker sounded. It also sounded like the voice on the other end was still working through some food in his mouth. The casual nature of the start of the call giving Megumi whiplash. Enough to where he didn't even comment on the bastardization of his first name.

"Something's wrong with Tsumiki," Megumi interrupted, cutting to the point. He tried not to sound so panicked, but the words rolled off his tongue faster than he could control them.

Gojo himself took note and slowed his words and lowered his tone to keep his young charge grounded. He didn't have the hormonal senses and wherewithal of a parent but damnit he was a brilliant educator. He'd keep the situation under control, whatever it ended up being.

"Are you with her?" He questioned soft but firmly.

"Yes."

"Where are you?"

"At our apartment."

"Stay there, I'm on my way."

The line went dead after the quick conversation. Knowing that his technical guardian would manifest himself somewhere any minute, Megumi took a moment to straighten himself out. He wasn't sure why, but he even in this moment he felt the need to look put together and mature for the man.

Sure enough, he felt another presence pop itself into the tiny apartment and listened as footsteps moved through the open door behind him. Megumi looked back to see his older mentor in dark-tinted glasses and his business casuals. He looked so much older in a button-down, but then again maybe it was the way his presence commanded the room as he walked over to Tsumiki's limp form.

Megumi moved behind him and watched with apprehension as the taller man leaned down with two fingers over the side of her neck. They both sat frozen for a few seconds before the silver-haired teacher moved his head over her chest and put an ear to her sternum. Megumi watched, mind empty, while Gojo finished his quick assessment, laying a hand over her forehead and lifting her eyelids to see the pupils underneath. It was far more in-depth and planned than anything Megumi could have thought to do, he was glad he called.

Gojo stood back straight and beckoned for Megumi to come closer and give him one of his hands. Megumi obliged and was increasingly frustrated by how he couldn't control the slight tremor he felt through his fingertips. Ever the teacher, Gojo maneuvered Megumi's index and pointer finger onto a strong pulse below Tsumiki's right jaw.

"Feel that?" He asked, "She's very much alive. And from what I can tell, she's stable, her consciousness is just altered."

Megumi remained silent, not quite knowing how to take the information.

"Her heart is still beating. But we do need to get her to a hospital, medicine isn't my specialty."

The other young man in the room remained wordless but nodded his consent.

Gojo pulled his own phone out and started to contact the emergency services lines. Megumi remained still at Tsumiki's bedside while the eldest in the room did all the coordination. This was not at all how he liked to spend his mornings.

Still on the line, Gojo decided to pull his pupil out of his musings with tasks.

"Hey, let's get the lights turned on and some space cleared."

Megumi took care of it, ensuring plenty of space for the first responders.

"Perfect," Gojo praised. "Next let's do the living room, to make way for the gurney."

Obedient as always, the younger excused himself and got to work on his latest assignment. Gojo had finished the emergency call and was now on the line with Ijichi, his personal handler. This wasn't entirely a medical situation, he wanted Shoko on the case.

Poking his head out, he noted that Megumi had finished this latest task as well.

"Okay, now make sure all the entryways are unlocked and meet the ambulance down at the street."

He didn't like leaving his stepsister's side but knew it had to be done. He was nothing if not logical. Descending to the street level, Megumi waited until he saw the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle. They seemed to take forever to round the corner, making him more and more annoyed with each passing minute. Here he was, his perfectly good morning, now thoroughly ruined.

The transport happened in a blur. The crew made their way up the elevator with an empty pram and back down with his sister's limp body locked in. Gojo had given them a quick synopsis before they took off. He wasn't sure how, but he ended up in the back seat of a cab. Then a lobby. A waiting room. And finally, inside her cubicle in the ER. They were at her bedside in two thin chairs, him and Gojo.

Megumi focused on his hands, clasped in front of him, while they waited. Various staff would take her gurney back and forth for testing. Gojo would interact with them, answer questions, and carry on in his good-natured way. His counterpart would sit and let the time fade by. Sometimes he would steal a glance at the patient's sleeping face, the recognizable way in which her bangs framed her cheeks bringing comforting familiarity for fleeing moments. Then his gaze would drift to the hospital gown she now donned and he was abruptly reminded of the seriousness for which they were here.

The umpteenth staff member in a white coat walked in and Gojo stood to greet him. Megumi's ears suddenly returned to focus when he realized what they were discussing.

"Of course," Gojo agreed, "I'll let you guys get her settled upstairs. We'll take a break and come check in on her before visiting hours are over. What was her room assignment again?"

Megumi looked up at his guardian with confusion, they weren't seriously about to leave her, were they? She'd never met these people who were poking and prodding her, the beeping on the machines was intensely egregious, and this staff didn't know her like he did. He began to protest.

"What if she wakes up and we're not there?" He tried, pleading with Gojo.

"Hey, kiddo," Gojo began. He squatted down, hands on his knees as he leveled his eyes with Megumi's. "She's not waking up."

It seemed like his whole world was imploding. The ringing in his ears, which had never quite gone away, returned with a vengeance and the room began to spin again. He barely noticed Gojo stand back up as his heartbeat was suddenly very apparent in his ears. His breathing was quicker than he would have liked as the reality of this statement hit him. His inner circle was too small to take a hit like this.

A hand on his back drew him back to reality.

"C'mon. Let's get some fresh air and give the professionals some space to work."

He nodded numbly, not that he was in much of a state to refuse. As much as he hated leaving her alone, he could see the logic in it and he was a logical individual. They'd take good care of her, and it was only for a little bit.

He was led to a hallway in a more private area of the hospital. Megumi had no idea if they were allowed to be here given that the only traffic he saw involved people in scrubs and suits. There was no seating, so Gojo opted for leaning against the wall near one of the corners by a window. Megumi settled for standing across from him as he looked out the aforementioned glass.

She wouldn't be waking up. This reality was becoming more and more real. He wouldn't have her to yell at him after he got in another fight, she wouldn't be there to have breakfast and dinner with, she wouldn't be home to nag him and provide some life in their empty apartment. It was just him now. Him and his miserable cooking skills.

Megumi clenched his jaw as he felt his bottom lip quiver. He wasn't going to do this, not in front of other people.

Gojo took a moment to inspect the young man he was responsible for. He'd only spoken once since leaving the apartment. His breathing was deep but far too fast, like he was trying in vain to control it. Shaky hands were shoved into pants pockets below shoulders that were far too stiff. His unfocused eyes were glassy, as he kept blinking away the extra moisture that was accumulating. Yup, he was absolutely panicking.

"Hey, Meg," Gojo started, finally getting the younger boy to look at him. "Are you ok?"

He tried to respond, but a lump in his throat stopped him dead in his tracks as his voice hitched in the back of his throat. No, trying to speak up would only make it worse. Rather, he nodded his head in affirmation, hoping Gojo wouldn't probe any further.

His hope turned into a double edge sword as Gojo just let the question hang between them, the silence worsening Megumi's predicament. His thoughts were getting darker and darker. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and regain control of his emotions. The corners of his mouth were starting to defy is will and pull down of their own accord. This was mortifying.

Instinctively, he put a hand up to cover his eyes and as much of his face as he could. He just needed a few moments to regain his composure and they would be fine.

Gojo sighed, his expression softening. This was not his first rodeo, nor would it be his last.

"Hey now, come here." He snaked a hand behind the boy's head and leaned him up against his chest.

For his part, Megumi didn't resist, all efforts being used on another front. His hand was still covering his face when it landed on the top of his guardian's shoulder. The difference in height meant that his eyes were flush with Gojo's collar bone. Gojo moved his hand from behind Megumi's head to end up down between his shoulder blades, thumb stroking the jacket absent-mindedly. Gojo's other hand was still resting casually in his pocket, still leaned up lazily against the wall, like the boy pressed into him was an afterthought.

This significantly more intimate position was not helping Megumi's plight, nor his pride. The feeling of a hand on his back, the warmth of his captor's chest, were getting to be a little bit much. Megumi steeled his resolve. He wasn't some kid, he was 14 years old now. He was convinced of his maturity and knew he could get through this with his ego intact if he would just focus on breathing.

In… Out… In… Out… He repeated like a mantra, letting his mind go blank. It was working, he was regaining control.

*Buzz* *Buzz*

They both jumped a little at the unexpected vibration from Gojo's back pocket. Keeping a solid grip on the Jr. High student, the older of the two nestled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he answered.

"This is Satoru Gojo speaking… yes ma'am I am the legal guardian of those students."

Oh yeah, Megumi thought to himself, the school would have marked them as a delinquent absence right now since no guardian had called it in. He was more than a little surprised that they had Gojo's number as their point of contact, but for what reason it was surprising he did not know. Tsumiki and he were his wards, he'd just never imagined the roles Gojo took on when he legally took them in. It's not like he lived with them, though he did visit and check in frequently.

"…Yes, I'm sorry about that. Something of a family emergency has come up…"

The sound of the phone call pulled Megumi out of his musings. Yeah, he supposed it was best described as a family emergency.

"…I'm not sure when Megumi will return to school. Probably not today…"

He was amused by the relief he felt at not having to go to school today, though he dreaded the work he would have to make up.

"…As for Tsumiki… It's going to be quite some time. I don't know if she'll be back…"

For reasons unknown, this was Megumi's breaking point, the nail in the coffin for him. The finality of pulling her off the school roster. The tears sprung to his eyes relentlessly while his chest simultaneously heaved. He could feel the moisture transfer onto the hand still pressed against his face and had to admit that he'd now lost the battle. Each breath was now shaky and labored, complete with an audible hitch at the top of the inhale. God, this was embarrassing.

"Shhh… I gotcha," Gojo mused, having finished the phone call with the attendance office sometime during the breakdown. Having returned his phone to it's rightful pocket, Gojo moved his free hand through Megumi's dark hair. Considering that he'd just lost one of the two consistent people in his life, Gojo figured he'd earned this lapse in composure.

Still trying to force down shaky breaths, he was doing his level best to keep the sobs at a low volume and the tears at a minimum. It was a losing battle, but there was some attempt. He finally relented and pulled his hand away from swollen eyes to wrap itself around Gojo's waist, more for stability than anything else and they were still leaned against a corner wall. He felt Gojo extricate his fingers from Megumi's hair and set something down on the windowsill. There was even more confusion as Megumi felt a new hand briefly squeeze his shoulder.

"It gets better," whispered an unfamiliar, distinctly female, voice.

Had he been in a different position, Megumi would have seen the nurse that had walked by a couple of times and returned with a box of tissues for the pair. Gojo mouthed "thank you" while he accepted the offered box. After a squeeze and a word of reassurance, she was gone.

The distraction had been enough of a break for Megumi to start recollecting himself. He sniffed and blinked a few unwelcome tears away. Pulling his arm away from Gojo's waist, Megumi began to wipe at his eyes, still keeping his head down, forehead against the other's shoulder. He had no doubt the redness around the rims of his cheeks would give him away, even if he could keep his face dry.

Gojo had released his grip on him, letting Megumi adjust as he needed to. He took the opportunity to open the tissue box and proffered one to the student in front of him. Megumi took it, nodded his thanks, and turned around to straighten himself out. It occurred to Gojo just how private a person his young charge was.

Gojo grabbed another tissue and dabbed at the damp blot on the side of his chest. He was sure it wouldn't be too noticeable in a few minutes once it dried up some. It would be far less noticeable than the swelling and blotchy redness on the younger's face. Tissues could only take care of so much.

Megumi shoved the used material into his school uniform pocket and readjusted the part in his hair. Gojo noted that the kid still looked a mess but wouldn't comment on it. He doubted anyone else would either.

"We can go see her, if you'd like," the teacher ventured, since their interaction had come to a lull.

Megumi took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yeah, I just need a moment real quick."

Gojo gave him a hint of a sad smile.

"Take all the time you need. We've got all morning."

...

Ugh, poor kid. I always forget that the protagonists are like 16 in the story. I was such a mess at that age, I could not even imagine. Anywho, hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!

Stay healthy, happy and motivated,

-DRD