Chapter Text
He was going to be late.
That morning, his alarm hadn’t worked. It wasn’t the phone’s fault, though: the truth was that the night before, he’d fallen asleep with the phone still in his hand, so he hadn’t plugged it in, and the battery had completely died, causing it to shut down.
It wasn’t even his fault, to be honest. For weeks, he’d been sleeping a maximum of five hours a night, staying up until the wee hours in the lab to run impossible computational simulations.
He sat alone, staring at that open Linux terminal, at that N-body simulation at 73%, but giving up had never been an option for him. He was searching for a minuscule gravitational instability that appeared in the simulation once every million interactions and only under certain conditions. There was a stubborn force driving him to keep going. A promise.
So he wanted to solve that simulation and get that damn PhD in astrophysics, at all costs.
Now he found himself getting dressed at the speed of light, eager to get out of the apartment as soon as possible. That morning he had to tutor university students, and arriving on time would be a race against the clock. Luckily, he wasn’t a fashion fiend, and 99% of his wardrobe consisted of basic black and gray pieces that were easy to mix and match.
He slipped on a black sweatshirt and a pair of cargo pants and didn’t waste a single second trying to tame his hair, which he had long since resigned himself to wearing sticking out in all directions—so much so that as a child his schoolmates had nicknamed him “Sea Urchin Head.”
He took only a quick glance in the bathroom mirror to check that there were no traces of toothpaste left on his face and almost didn’t recognize himself. His green eyes were surrounded by a frightening gray halo.
He put on his boots and coat and went out. He figured that if he pedaled at an average of 20 km per hour, he might make it in time for the start of class. As he ran down the stairs, he tried calling his professor to let him know he might be late.
Of course, there was no answer.
“Ah, damn it.”
He dashed out the front door of the building, under Tokyo’s gray sky, unlocked his bike, and jumped on as he ran.
He pedaled as fast as he could. Halfway there, glancing at his watch, he realized with relief that he would definitely arrive on time if he kept up that pace.
He was on a street lined with shops when a raindrop fell on his hand and another nearly hit his eye.
It started to rain. Within seconds, it turned into a downpour, and lightning split the sky, followed immediately by thunder.
“Ah, damn it!”
This time he shouted it out in frustration. He stopped his bike and leaned it against the curb, then ran to take shelter in a shop across the street, a small bakery.
Huddling under his coat, he caught a glimpse of the display case full of pastries before going inside, startled by the sound of the bell above the door.
He was already so wet that he left a small puddle at his feet.
“I’ll be right there!”
A cheerful voice came from the back bakery, while the counter was empty. Another clap of thunder rumbled outside, but in the silence of the shop, the other sounds of the city seemed muffled.
He looked around; the wooden walls reminded him of a European-style shop. It smelled wonderful in there, so delicious that his stomach growled. He hadn’t even had breakfast in his rush to get out. He craned his neck to get a better look at the pastries on display at the counter; he didn’t want to make a mess on the shop floor by walking around, since he’d only come in to shelter from the rain.
“Good morning, how can I help you?”
The clerk had come from the back to greet him.
“I’m sorry, I…”
He looked up and stopped mid-sentence.
The collision between neutron stars is one of the most extreme events that can occur in the universe. Nuclear matter is crushed, magnetic fields explode, and some of the matter is ejected at nearly the speed of light. This happens after the two stars have spiraled around each other faster and faster, in an ever-tighter orbit, causing spacetime to vibrate.
He didn’t know why he was comparing a phenomenon of that magnitude to that precise moment.
The clerk was a gentle-looking young man, probably around his age. He adjusted his flat cap on his pink hair, continuing to smile and looking at him with his large hazel eyes.
He saw his expression change, however, as if he’d just realized something. His smile faded slowly, and they both fell silent.
The more that boy stared at him, the more his heart raced wildly. He cleared his throat, finding his voice again. “Forgive me, I only came in to shelter from the rain and ended up getting the floor dirty. I’m truly sorry.”
He gave a slight bow, and the boy seemed to snap out of it as well. “No, no need to apologize! In fact, it’s pouring out there right now. I’ll wipe the floor later—no problem!”
“Thank you. I’ll be on my way as soon as…”
The boy shook his head. “No problem! Why don’t you take a seat? You look like you’re having a rough day, so it’s on the house!”
Suddenly, the idea of having stumbled into that shop by chance and being stuck inside because of the storm—all while running a disastrous late for class—didn’t seem so bad.
“I could never take advantage of that. I’ll get something, but I’m going to pay.”
The guy smiled. “Then I’ll give you a friend’s price! What do you want to get?”
He wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, but everything on that counter looked so delicious that he wouldn’t have known what to choose. “Hmm. Could you recommend something?”
The young man cupped his chin in his hand, looking up as he thought. “Maybe…”
He seemed to have a brainwave. He took a slice of freshly baked pastry from the counter and handed it to him on a small plate. “Pain d’épices!”
The aroma was very inviting. The boy showed him to one of the few tables in the shop. “I’ll make you some tea, too.”
“That would be perfect, thank you.”
The slice of cake smelled very inviting. He took a bite and his eyes widened in surprise. The flavor of the spices filled his mouth; it was the best sweet he had ever tasted. “It’s really delicious. Is there ginger in the ingredients?”
The boy nodded.
He loved ginger. He watched him at work as he prepared the tea; by the time he brought it to the table, he had already finished the sweet.
The scent of peppermint steeping in the cup washed over him. It was his favorite tea.
How had he managed to get it right twice in a row? He looked up at the guy.
“Why don’t you sit down too? There aren’t any other customers anyway.”
What on earth was he thinking?
It wasn’t like him to enjoy the company of others, especially people he didn’t know well. He spent hours on end without speaking to anyone in the lab, completely absorbed in his research.
The question took the other by surprise, but he accepted without any embarrassment. “I’d love to! I’ll take this opportunity to take a break!”
He grabbed a cup for himself and sat down across from him, smiling.
He felt something in his stomach do a strange somersault.
“So! Where were you headed before the rain drove you in here?” the boy asked him.
He sighed, replying dejectedly. “I was on my way to the university. I thought I’d finally caught up on time on the road, since my alarm didn’t go off this morning. That is, until it started raining, and here I am.”
The boy looked sorry for him. “Oh, what a bummer! Did you have some important class to attend?”
“Not exactly. I was supposed to help my professor’s students in exactly…” he checked his watch. “Twenty minutes. I’ll never make it on time.”
The boy took off his cap and set it on the table. His pink hair, which faded into a darker undercut at the nape of his neck, looked incredibly soft. A strand fell across his eye, curling into a soft curve. He wondered if, running his fingers through it, it would feel as soft as...
What on earth was getting into him?
“So you’re some kind of teaching assistant?”
The question snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’m just a PhD student. I don’t always work with undergraduates, though; mostly I do research in the lab.”
The boy smiled. “I would’ve bet you were a smart person! But you do seem too young to be teaching at the university. I guess you’re about my age.”
His professor often told him how smart he was, too, but that didn’t make him blush the same way; rather, it annoyed him. He hid his embarrassment behind his teacup, taking a sip.
“Ph.D. in what field?” the boy asked.
“Astrophysics.”
The boy looked impressed. “Oh, wow! That’s super complex stuff, then! That sounds really cool! I’ve always been terrible at math,” he said, blushing and rubbing his neck.
He hadn’t meant to try to sound impressive; besides, he didn’t think there was anything special about his abilities. “Actually, I spend most of my time in front of a computer; it’s much less exciting than it might seem.”
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of the rain pounding outside. The boy broke it.
“By the way, we haven’t introduced ourselves! My name is Itadori Yuji,” he said, holding out his hand.
He shook it after a brief hesitation. “Fushiguro Megumi, nice to meet you.”
Itadori’s hand was warm, his grip firm. When he let go, Megumi felt his skin burning from that contact. He felt strangely on edge, while Itadori continued to look at him kindly. He wanted to ask him more, to know more about him.
“Is this your shop?”
He saw it—a sadness hidden behind his eyes, which he lowered before answering. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
Megumi realized he’d hit a sore spot and tried to change the subject.
“You know, I’m sorry I don’t see any other customers in here. The sweet I ate is, I think, the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he admitted sincerely.
A slight blush appeared on Itadori’s cheeks. “Thank you! Actually, I think it’s all my fault. I can’t open the shop every morning, and I guess it really annoys people to make the trip for nothing only to find the shop closed!”
Megumi grew suspicious. Itadori didn’t seem like a lazy person, so the fact that he couldn’t open every day must have some reason behind it. “Why is that, if I may ask?”
Itadori hid his sadness behind a smile once again. “It’s because of my grandfather. He’s in the hospital, so I go visit him often, even though he’s always grumbling that I should just think about myself. Hahaha, he’s so stubborn! But here’s the thing… I just can’t do it. He raised me after my parents left us. I could never bring myself to leave him alone in that hospital room after everything he’s done for me.”
Something tightened in Megumi’s chest. He didn’t like talking about himself, but that pain united them, and Itadori’s vulnerability prompted him to open up.
“I’m so sorry about your grandfather. I grew up without my parents, too. My sister and I were taken in by a wealthy family in Tokyo, but the person who really took care of us was Professor Gojo. He’s the one who encouraged me to study astrophysics, along with my sister Tsumiki, whom I promised I’d make it, before she…”
It was still painful to talk about it, even after nine years. “...Passed away.”
Itadori seemed genuinely sorry. Megumi sighed. “Sorry, I don’t know why I told you all this. You have your grandfather to worry about, and we’re strangers—I shouldn’t have…”
Itadori interrupted him. “Oh no, it doesn’t matter! I’m glad you told me! Sometimes it’s easier to open up to strangers, don’t you think?”
Megumi looked down. In reality, he never talked about these things with anyone, but somehow doing so with Itadori had seemed so easy.
Outside, the rain had let up. Megumi’s heart, however, continued to race in a way he couldn’t understand.
There was no logic to it. He met Itadori’s gaze and felt lost. He was a stranger, with a life totally different from his own, but his instinct told him that the person in front of him was one of those absurdly good and selfless people, just like his sister Tsumiki had been.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t ask you this sooner! You’re all wet—I can lend you my sweatshirt! I have two spares in the back storage room.”
Megumi was surprised once again by his kindness. “No need, thank you. I’ve already taken advantage of your kindness too much.”
Itadori smiled. “Oh, come on, what are you saying? I enjoyed this chat. And besides…”
Itadori hesitated, blushing slightly. “If I lend you the sweatshirt, at least you’ll have a reason to come back to my shop!”
Megumi’s heart skipped a beat. “I... Alright. I’m infinitely grateful to you; I’ll come back to return it as soon as possible.”
He bowed his head, but Itadori chuckled. “Don’t worry! You can keep it as long as you want. Wait here, I’ll go get it.”
He stood up and disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a bright red hoodie.
Not exactly a color Megumi would ever wear by choice, but of course he thanked him.
He took off his coat and the black sweatshirt he was wearing, leaving him in the long-sleeved T-shirt he had on underneath. Itadori’s smile faded; he saw him look away awkwardly, staring at a specific spot on the floor. Megumi felt the air between them grow thick, even though nothing was really happening. He was grateful that Itadori had turned away; it was all strangely intimate. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and finally Itadori looked back at him.
“Thanks again, Itadori.”
“You’re welcome! Oh look, it’s stopped raining!”
Megumi turned toward the window. A sliver of sunlight filtered through the blanket of gray clouds. Then he looked back at Itadori.
It seemed to him that, of the two, Itadori’s smile was the brightest thing in that moment.
He didn’t want to leave, but duty called. Reluctantly, he stood up from his chair.
“I’ll be going, then. I’ll come back to return your sweatshirt, I promise.”
“I’m counting on it! It was nice meeting you, Fushiguro!”
Megumi gave a half-smile. “Same here, Itadori. See you soon.”
He left the bakery and it was like stepping into another world. The smell of wet asphalt hit him; he reached his bike and dried the seat with his black sweatshirt, then took one last look at the shop.
On the plaque near the door, he read “Itadori's.” How many times had he cycled down that street without ever noticing that little shop?
Something inside him tightened when he saw that Itadori was no longer at the counter. Perhaps he’d gone back to the back to work.
In that shop, time had seemed suspended, slowed down, as it does near a black hole.
He was disastrously late, much later than before, but he didn’t care. He got on his bike and a smile came to his face.