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"Thèrése does not belong to you."
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My plan wasn't exactly...smooth sailing to say the least. Even I was beginning to question the legitimacy of my impulsive decision to pull Megumi out of mainstream school for Jujutsu.
What was I thinking?
Of course I'd never admit that, though. Instead I tried to clasp the last straws of logic available to me, trying to convince Yaga to enrol Megumi Fushiguro into Jujutsu High for when he turns 15 next year.
"Look, Y/N. I tend to respect your decision making skills and whatnot, but this...this is probably even more ridiculous than the time you suggested a 'revolution'." Yaga sat ahead of me. We were in his dim, candle lit office, and he sat cross-legged on a traditional cushion.
Yaga grew his hair and found himself a solid pair of shades. Albeit that, not much had changed.
He was working on a puppet, frequently glancing up at me.
"That was 9 years ago..." I deadpanned, but continued nonetheless. "Look, perhaps what Megumi needed all along was a change of scenery. Maybe a constant classroom environment doesn't help him; I know I wasn't a fan." I tried to explain, confidently folding my arms.
At this Yaga sighed, putting the puppet down as he mimicked my gesture, folding his arms as he provided me his full attention.
"Y/N," He started. "Look deep within yourself: do you truly see yourself subjecting Megumi to the world of human hatred? Curses? The kid you've been raising all these years? I understand that you were a unique case- you did what many wouldn't be able to do at the peak of their careers at the age of 7." Yaga's assertion caused my eyes to widen slightly.
"Y/N. You're amongst one of the strongest people to have ever existed. You're exceptional, but what if he isn't, Y/N. What if he's just...normal? What if he isn't like you?" Yaga's voice quietened, and I could tell he was selecting his words very carefully.
My features fell.
When he broke it down like that...
"The solution to the boy's behavioural problems isn't sorcery, Y/N."
I dug my nails into my palm, crescents forming at the action.
"You're...right," A hand found its way up to my h/c tresses and I clenched the amount my fists had gathered.
"What kind of guardian am I?" I chuckled humourlessly.
