I was helping observe and tidy some biotopes in Shibuya yesterday and found this tiny fish. Even the tiniest little living things can be so strikingly beautiful, i was very moved by it.
(Sorry for the lack of art, i have been working very hard on client work and sadly haven't had much energy for my own work. <3 )
summary : you got hurt during the chaos of Shibuya and have been sidelined for weeks with lingering pain and recovery, and Megumi’s been pushing himself harder than ever because he’s terrified of losing you. Poor baby :( argh CW : angst with comfort, hurt description, injury & recovery, emotional
a/n : lowkey need to make a chronic pain fic i feel under represented. Reqs open as hello
The days blended into weeks after the Shibuya incident, in a haze of sterile hospital lights and the constant ache in your side.
The curse had caught you off guard during the evacuation. A vicious special grade that lashed out with barbed tentacles of cursed energy. It tore through your ribs and left deep gashes that even reverse cursed technique struggled to fully heal. Weeks later you were finally out of the hospita, but ‘recovered’ was a strong word. Walking still hurt if you moved too fast. Missions were off the table. Even simple training left you winded and frustrated.
You hated it. Hated feeling useless while everyone else threw themselves into the aftermath. Hated the way Megumi watched you like you might break if he blinked wrong.
Megumi had been difficult since that night. Quieter than usual, which was saying something for someone who already spoke in short sentences and meaningful silences. He visited every day, brining bentos from the cafeteria, helping you adjust pillows when the pain flared, sitting beside your bed with his divide dogs curled protectively at your feet. But the worry lines between his brows never smoother out. He trained longer, took more solo assignments, pushed himself and his abilities harder than anyone advised. You could see the exhaustion in the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders stayed tense even when he was with you.
Tonight was one of those nights.
You were in the common room of the dorms, curled up on the couch with a blanket over your lap. The TV played some mindless show neither of you were really watching. Megumi sat beside you, one arm draped carefully over the back of the couch like he wanted to pull you closer but he was afraid to jostle your still-healing ribs. His other hand rested on your thigh, a grounding touch that had become more frequent recently.
You shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, and winced when the movement pulled at the scar tissue. Megumi’s hand tightened instantly.
“Careful,” he said, voice low and edged with that familiar tension. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am resting,” you replied, keeping your tone light even as frustration simmered. “It’s just a twinge. I’m not made of glass, Megumi.”
He didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, shadows flickering faintly at his feet before he reined them in. The divine dogs whined softly and pressed closer to your legs like they could sense the shift in mood.
The silence stretched. You hated how heavy it felt lately. Before Shibuya, you two had been… perfect. Quiet dates in the city when missions allowed, late night talks where he’d let you see the softer parts of him, tentative kisses that made your heart race. Now everything felt wrapped in worry. You missed the version of him that let himself relax around you.
You tried again, gentler. “Hey. You’ve been taking every mission and assignment they’ll give you. You look exhausted. Maybe take a day off? We could just-“
“I can’t,” he cut in, sharper than you expected. His hand lifted from your thigh as he sat up straighter, shadows writhing once before he forced them still. “Some of us don’t get the luxury of sitting on the couch while the world falls apart. I have to keep going. I have to be useful.”
The words landed like a slap. You stared at him, chest tightening. Useful. Like you weren’t. Like the weeks you’d spent recovering - the pain, the nightmares, the frustration of being benched - made you a burden instead of someone who needed him.
“That’s not fair,” you said quietly, voice cracking despite your best effort. “I didn’t ask to get hurt. I didn’t ask to be stuck here while you run yourself into the ground. I’m trying, Megumi. Every day I’m trying to get better so i can stand beside you again. But if me being here is just another thing you have to worry about..”
You trailed off, swallowing hard as tears pricked at your eyes. You hated crying in front of him. Hated feeling this fragile when you used to be the one who could match his quiet strength.
Megumi froze. The sharpness drained from his face in an instant, replaced by raw panic and immediate regret. His shadows settled completely, the divine dogs nudging closer to both of you like they were trying to fix what he’d broken.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, voice cracking despite “i didn’t mean it like that.”
He moved carefully but quickly, turning toward you on the couch and gently cupping your face with both hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had escaped before you could stop them, touch feather light over your skin. Those dark eyes, usually so guarded, were wide and devastated now, filled with king of vulnerability he only ever showed you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, forehead pressing gently against yours. “I’m so sorry. I’m not.. I’m not mad at you. I’m terrified. Every time i close my eyes i see you bleeding out in Shibuya. Every mission i take, I’m thinking about coming back to you. And when i see you hurting, still recovering, it feels like my fault for not being faster that night. Like, if i push harder, train more, maybe I can make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”
His voice dropped even lower, rough with exhaustion and emotion. “You’re not a burden. You’re the only reason I still come back here instead of just… sleeping in the training grounds. You make the shadows feel less heavy. I’ve been an idiot - taking it out on you because i don’t know how to handle being this scared of losing you.”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. The ache in your ribs was still there, but it felt distant compared to the warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “I’m scared too,” you admitted softly. “Scared i might not ever be strong enough again. Scared I’ll hold you back.”
Megumi shook his head, one hand sliding to the back of your neck while the other stayed on your cheek. “You don’t hold me back. You’re the only thing keeping me from breaking. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.”
He pulled you closer, careful, always so careful of your injuries, until you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you gently, one hand stroking slow circles on your back while the other cradled your head. The divine dogs settled at your feet, warm and protective, their presence a quiet comfort.
“You’re healing,” he murmured into your hair, voice soft in a way that was rare for him. “And when you’re ready, we’ll go on missions together again. But until then… let me take care of you. Please. I need to do this. For both of us.”
You nodded against his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. The scent of him - clean soap and faint cursed energy - grounded you. “Okay. But you have to rest too. Deal?”
“Deal.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then your temple, then tilted your chin up gently so he could kiss your lips - slow, tender, full of all the apologies he can’t quite put into words. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours again. “I love you. Even when I’m an idiot about it,”
Your heart stuttered at the words. He didn’t say them often, but when he did, they landed with quiet weight. “I love you too. Even when you’re brooding and overprotective.”
A tiny smile tugged at his kudos - rare and soft, and only for you. “Good. Then stay right here. I’ll make tea. Or.. whatever helps your pain. Just don’t move too much.”
He started to shift like he was going to get up, but you tugged him back down, curling closer despite the twinge in your side. “Stay. The tea can wait. I just want you.”
Megumi didn’t argue. He settled back against the couch, adjusting the blanket over both of you and pulling you half into his lap so he could hold you without putting pressure on your injury. His hand resumed its slow strokes along your back, the other threading gently through your hair. The divine dogs hopped up onto the couch, one curling at your feet and the other resting is head on Megumi’s thigh like it was standing guard.
For the first time in weeks the common room felt warm instead of heavy.
Megumi’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again. “When you’re better… we’ll take it slow. Easy missions first. I’ll have your back every second. And if the pain comes back, we stop. No arguments.”
You smiled against his chest. “Bossy.”
“Protective,” he corrected, but there was no edge to it — just quiet affection. He pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering there. “Only for you.”
The TV droned on in the background, forgotten. Megumi held you like you were something precious and fragile, even though you both knew you were stronger than that. His breathing eventually evened out, the exhaustion finally catching up now that the worry wasn’t choking him quite so hard.
You stayed there, tucked safe in his arms, the ache in your body a little easier to bear with his warmth surrounding you. Shibuya had taken a lot from both of you. But moments like this — his rare softness, the way he melted the second he realized he’d hurt you — reminded you why you kept fighting.
Megumi Fushiguro might be overworked, brooding, and terrible at expressing fear.
