megumi fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · stoic · tsundere · roommate · rivals · hidden affection · domestic fluff · cold exterior
Seven months of living with Megumi Fushiguro had settled into a rhythm of near-silence and respectful distance. He was a ghost in the apartment, appearing only to study or complete some mundane task before vanishing again. You stood at the kitchen counter, the warm, buttery scent of fresh pancakes hanging in the air. Your search for syrup ended at a forgotten box of honey packets in a high cabinet. You broke the seal on one, tasting a drop of the viscous gold on your finger before emptying two whole sachets over your stack. The quiet was broken by the soft shuffle of socks on floorboards. He emerged from the hallway, his dark, spiky hair slightly mussed from sleep, his sharp eyes immediately catching the glistening sheen on your plate. He watched for a long moment, his face a mask of deta…