As humans, we long for familiarity. Routine. We seek it out, cling to it once we've found it, too often butting heads with the ever changing habits of the natural order of the world. We feel security in that which never changes. Things that repeat without fail. Whether it is good or bad, once we are used to something, it becomes a part of us, and losing it can cause us to lose a part of ourselves in the process.
But then, there are those of us who aren't so human. Those of us who are a part of something... bigger.
"What does routine have to do with my cursed technique?" Gojo rolls his eyes, clearly disappointed that I still haven't picked up on his intentions. "You know, Y/N, maybe you're not as smart as I thought you were. I'm disappointed in you. Maybe I should just send you in there blind?" He catches my hand before I can land a flick in the center of his forehead, and tells me to relax. "You'll see when we go in."
He puts his hands on each of my shoulders guiding me into the classroom, towering behind me. I could see the shadow he cast and wondered how the poor teacher was feeling about the whole thing.
"Ah! Y/N!" My head snaps up from the ground and would've hit Gojo smack in the throat if he hadn't whipped back with his stupid fast reflexes. "Hi?" I search for anything familiar in the teachers face, but I've never seen her before, and by the looks of it, she hasn't seen me either.
"Wait," I hear from the rows of students. "Y/N? As in Y/L/N, Y/N?" I freeze. I know that voice.
I'm all for justice, you know.
The words knock around in my brain like loose marbles in a rolling jar.
Unless you're just hassling some innocent second year because daddy drank too much last night and decided he didn't love you anymore,
Saito.
Oh my god.
It was almost two months ago now, but it feels like I haven't seen him in years.
That was the first time I met Fushiguro.
That was the first time I won.
The way I'd spoken to Fushiguro after the incident, the way I'd thrown myself into the situation like it was no big deal, the way I would have done that same thing a thousand times over...
It wasn't real.
I feel my palm lightly rest between my elbow and the soft pliant flesh of my inner forearm, where Saito's kick had landed that day I lunged between him and Suzuki without thinking.
Just because I had run in the way I did, didn't mean I wasn't afraid. Saito had hurt me before, too.
It wasn't in any way something I couldn't handle, shoves into the cold brick walls of the outside of the school, a leg appearing in front of me, and mysteriously vanishing the second I hit the ground chin first. It was nothing compared to what he did to Suzuki, and anyone else who stepped into his path, but in the countless amounts of times I've stepped between him and a victim, I haven't had the time, nor the desire to process the fear I felt towards him.
He could kill me if he wanted to.
Could have. Y/n. He could have. Before, but not now. You're strong now.
Gojo squeezes my shoulder lightly, and I don't have to look back to see the petrifying blue threat he's glaring and Saito. I can practically hear his smile. "Ah, no, actually. This is Y/N Inumaki, you must be mistaken." The finality in his voice shuts even Saito's loud mouth, and he sits back, mumbling lowly. Receiving another reassuring pat on both of my shoulders, I release the tension I hadn't noticed had formed, which was probably why Gojo had entered guard dog mode in the first place.
"Do you need a uniform, Y/N?" "No need!" Gojo says, there's a big chance I get recognized if I change out of my Jujutsu tech uniform, and that is the last thing either me or Gojo need. "She's just here for a trial day, we have permission, there's a note in here somewhere..." He stuffs his hands into his pockets fishing around for something he won't find as he did not, in fact, get permission from anybody but himself. "Oh, shoot, looks like I lost it," he says, a hand rubbing and the back of his neck as he looks at the teacher through his white lashes.
"Oh, it's no problem, have a seat right over there, Y/N." I walk over to the seat and plop down, staring blankly at the board. Gojo's phone begins to chime loudly and with a quick glance tells me, "Oh, Y/N, it's Megumi, I've got to step outside and take this." I glare at his sweet smile, knowing full well he isn't returning until either the day ends or somebody dies. At this rate, there's a good chance it's the latter.
He backs out of the classroom with a bow, winking in reply when I force out a quiet, "I hate you," through gritted teeth. Then he's gone, and I'm alone, back in my own personal hell.
The day goes smoothly enough, I'm not forced to introduce myself in front of the class at any point, though a part of me knows its because of the menacing glares the poor teachers receive from me if I get an inkling that they're even thinking about it. I'm doing pretty well, considering how much I would rather be literally anywhere else. When you get into a life like the one I've been rushed into, and are forced to go back, you realize how boring it is being a normal person. I peek down at the schedule Gojo had stuffed into my hand, one more class and this is over, and I can go home.
I run my thumb down the like of class numbers to the very bottom. C203.
That bastard. I'll kill him.
I look up at the C building stairs looming in front of me.
I can practically see myself two months ago, shivering, fingers white on the railing, eyes clenched shut and a thin sheen of sweat over my terrified face, but from the angle I stand at I can also see the curse. It looks so real, just as it did the first time. A sickly blue color, with skin swollen in places it shouldn't be, covered in welts and ugly wisps of hair. It's disproportionate eyes glaring into my soul, teeth bared, ready to tear my throat out.
But behind it.
I feel a shoulder slam into mine, making me stumble a few steps back. "Sorry." I hear someone mutter, I look around, but the hallway that had just been empty save for me, and the curse was now so full of students I wonder how I'd zoned out in the first place.
I reach to push my hair out of my eyes and feel an unfamiliar sensation in my fingertips, a tingling feeling, like they're on fire, but at the same time it's cold. My hands begin to ache after a couple of seconds and I hold them out in front of me, eyes wide, shaking them aggressively. A natural part forms in the flow of students as I flail my hands around like an addict who took one too many tabs.
As the feeling begins to recede I feel a palm wrap around my wrist. My instinct notices before my brain does and I grab the hand that's taken mine, spinning to throw them off of me, but their feet stay firmly on the ground against my efforts. My brain catches up to my body a moment later and I blink a few times.
What the hell?
"Are you done here? We have somewhere to be."
A/N
1323 Words
Ooooooh besties who do you think it is?
I wonder who it is?
The suspense is killing me.
Okay but actually I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, I'd really appreciate a vote and suggest following so you get notified whenever I update bc I don't have a consistent uploading schedule lol :)
Also this is entirely unrelated but I want musubi but its midnight and I am so close to walking like five and a half miles to 7/11 to buy one ;-;
Send help
Or butter noodles
OKAY HAVE A GOOD DAY BESTIES I LOVE YOU ALL HOPE YOU ENJOYED MWAH
-Chaos <3
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Human Adjacent - Megumi Fushiguro x READER
Fanfiction"'Are you even human, Fushiguro?" He smiled softly, a hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. "Human... adjacent. I guess.'" Their worlds weren't meant to collide. It was his job to protect people like her from a distance, but after a terrif...
