I Don't Like Him! (SUKUNA X MEGUMI)

12

Guess who's back from the dead!

No spicy fanarts for you today, have some wholesome chibi sukufushi instead. Hehe

Sukuna

Megumi sure was a hell of an interesting kid.

I knew it the moment I set eyes on him. First day of seventh grade, when I moved into the school we now share. He was the class monitor- a lean, gangly sort of kid with very messy black hair and the darkest blue eyes I'd ever seen. And the most perfect set of eyelashes. They never failed to amaze me, those eyelashes. They were pretty- more than pretty. They were beautiful.

Megumi was beautiful.

He had been beautiful then- and he was even more beautiful now. Five years later, it was the first day of school once more, and we bumped into each other. I knew him at once, caught up to him, desperate for some sort of conversation (alright, alright, I admit I did not have the best way of going about it). But he held back, looking at me with that snooty, disgusted expression one would bestow on a mutton-head. He was always a snooty one, was Megumi. But the snootiness never hurt, no. What hurt was the lack of recognition in his eyes.

All he remembered me as was the knuckle-headed idiot he was supposed to chaperone around the school on the first day of class, instead of doing his lessons and listening to his teachers like the good little boy he was. We never really got the chance to talk after that. I was wide-eyed, lost in admiration of his beauty (howsoever nerdy he was) and his extraordinary intelligence, while all he had to offer were bombastic side eyes and peevish remarks.

We barely talked all those years. We barely even had a class together- when we did, I would be continually outside of it and he inside. All he had to offer me most times was a brief, formal nod of his dark head as we locked eyes in the hallways, before passing on and leaving me looking after him with a longing that I had never felt so strongly before.

I never really stopped liking him, you know. As the years passed, I got more and more involved in sports- I barely even attended classes anymore. Then there was the whole thing with Mom- and I briefly dropped school altogether. The day I was finally talked into getting my ass to school by Dad- Megumi showed up at my desk, a mountain of notes bundled in his arms, a mountain so big it made him look small in comparison. I looked up at him, and for the first time in days and weeks and months- my eyes sparkled.

'I was told to give you these,' he said gruffly, and dropped the notes on my desk. 'They're my own personal notes, so you better not mess them up, understand? Give them back to me when you're done.'

And then he was gone- but for a moment, he stopped, looked back, lingered. Then his voice dropped into a low whisper, and he said, quite unexpectedly- 'I'm sorry about your mom. I- I know what it feels like. I...I'm sorry.'

And then he was gone.

The next time we spoke to each other was on the first day of school, twelfth grade- when the pesky little brat smacked me in the ribs and made off without looking back, his long skimpy legs carrying him faster than I had thought he could ever run. I know I deserved the smack- but boy, it had hurt. He might look petite, but Megumi packs a punch stronger than most guys I know.

And then, by a sheer stroke of luck, Megumi miraculously ended up in my class, and of course I wasted no time in positioning myself directly behind him. To whisper dirty words into his ear and watch him squirm became my favourite pastime- I would have stopped if he asked me to, but he never did. He almost seemed to enjoy it, as much as he tried to mask it with that snooty expression and that condescending look of his. Except that instead of turning me off, it made me want to grab his tiny little waist, shove him up against his beloved desk and fuck his pretty little brains out.