Chapter Text
He’d been half asleep when Yuta knocked on his door, and then he’d scrambled to pretend he’d been doomscrolling instead, because 6 PM isn’t an appropriate time to be dozing off, no matter how you look at it.
The door creaked open after an appropriate waiting period, since he wouldn’t have received a response regardless of consciousness.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you up?”
Toge rolled over and held up his phone, which was playing some stupid dance video that would’ve bored him back to sleep if he actually paid attention to it.
“Oh.” Yuta smiled and laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess there’s not much to do around here anymore.”
“T–” He started, but the word caught behind his tongue and reminded him how dry his mouth has been.
Yuta looked like he was going to ask if he was alright, so he quickly cleared his throat and forced out a raspy: “Tuna?”
“Yeah, I, um…” He took a breath. “I wanted to ask if you’d be up for something tomorrow? We’re doing a little memorial for Gojo-sensei, now that Fushiguro’s doing better– Nothing official, like with the faculty or anything, just us.”
He nodded before he thought it through.
So now he’s sliding onto a picnic table bench in the woods behind campus, next to Yuta, who has Maki on his other side. Hakari’s wide enough to be directly across from the two of them, while Kirara’s unpacking a large canvas tote opposite himself.
“You okay?” Itadori asks as he helps Megumi sit in one of the extra lawn chairs.
“Fine,” he replies quietly.
He squeezes his shoulder and takes the one next to him.
“Took you two long enough,” Kugisaki says from her seat at the other end of the picnic table. She called dibs on the one outdoor recliner, luxury sunglasses and all, even though the sun is setting.
“Don’t be rude,” Maki scolds.
“You’re one to talk.” Hakari rolls his eyes.
“Comas aren’t an excuse,” Nobara tells them. “Not to me at least.”
“Well, mine was worse,” Megumi counters, sunken dark circles adding to his point.
“No fighting,” Kirara pipes up as she puts her bag back at her feet. There’s eight red solo cups on the table now, just beside two bottles of vodka and a liter of melon soda.
Toge glances at Yuta, who looks back at him with a face that says he knew this was the plan, but wasn’t sure if he should mention it.
They’ve all drank together before, more than once. It would usually be in one of their dorms on a Saturday night, where someone would end up puking or breaking something, then they’d all fall asleep on the floor slumber-party style.
But they haven’t done that since before Yuta left for Africa, and that was almost a year ago now.
“Woah, we’re drinking?” Itadori exclaims.
Megumi’s confused countenance, and Nobara’s more subtle one both show they weren’t in on it either.
“Gojo kept saying he wanted us to surpass him,” Hakari tells them. “What better way to start than tossing back what he couldn’t handle?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Itadori asks, gaze flicking to Megumi.
“You don’t have to,” Kirara says. “I have more soda, and a few beers if you want something weaker.”
“No, I’ll try,” he quickly replies.
“Alright then.” Kinji grins and twists the cap off one of the Smirnoff’s. “Normally I’d make you take it straight your first time, but since this is a celebration of life, I’ll be kind.”
“It’s not really my first time,” Yuji says with too much innocence in his voice.
“Whatever you thought you were doing in middle school doesn’t count.” He waves him off as he pours in one continuous line, and definitely more than a shot into each cup.
“Give them enough mixer, babe.” Kirara reaches over and opens the soda before passing it to him. “They’re technically still first years.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he acquiesces, but he only dispenses what’s at most equal to the amount of liquor.
He sets the bottle back down hard enough to shake the table, then picks up the glass nearest, holding it up for a toast.
Toge grabs his, as does everyone else, save Yuji, who takes two, while Megumi stays seated.
“To Gojo,” Kinji declares.
“To Gojo,” everyone but Toge echoes.
He lowers his surgical mask and takes his like a shot, wrinkling his nose as straight ethanol glides over his tongue.
He does his best to stifle a cough without an extra hand as he puts the cup back down, quickly gulping and pulling his mask back up as quickly as he can.
Maki and Kinji seem to be in a standoff for who was less phased, both stone-faced and glaring at each other, while Yuta shakes his head in disgust, and Kirara reaches for the chaser.
Nobara manages with nothing more than a twisted expression, but Megumi coughs halfway through his and shoves his cup at Yuji, who’s still drinking.
“Oh, shit,” he realizes as he finishes. “You good?”
“That’s so bad.” He grimaces, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Sorry,” Yuji says, patting him on the back as he takes the drink from him.
“Was it too strong?” Kirara asks.
“Kinda,” he rasps. “I just hate melon.”
“Oh.” She nods. “I have Coke too, if that would be better.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “That’d be fine.”
“Sorry,” Yuta chimes in. “I’m not a big fan of it either, but I thought we should do Gojo’s favorite.”
“Take a guess why I hate it.” He rolls his eyes. “He’s the only person who’d think giving melon soda to a sick kid instead of ginger ale was a good idea.”
“Yeah, that checks out,” Maki mutters. “He snuck me candy once when I was like seven, but it was the kind with that sour syrup that hurt your teeth to eat.”
“Oh, you knew him a long time too?” Yuji says as Kirara takes Megumi’s cup back.
“Yeah, I’d been putting up with him since he started meddling in jujutsu politics,” she explains. “He was at the compound a lot for a while, negotiating with Naobito, and he brought Megumi to visit sometimes.”
“One more for the lifers then.” Hakari holds up fresh drinks for the two of them, now with cola instead.
Toge doesn’t mention that he had also known Gojo since he was a child, being born into a highly precarious clan situation and winding up on the receiving end of his benevolent whims, nor does he bring up the time he gave him a sprinkle-filled rice ball.
He can’t anyway.
“So you really drank with Gojo-sensei?” Yuji asks as he picks up the cup for Megumi.
“We did.” Kinji starts pouring more drinks for everyone else too.
“Yup,” Kirara chirps.
“How’d that go?” Nobara snorts, her eyes already a bit unfocused.
“About as well as you’d think,” she replies. “I had to hold his hair back.”
“Really?” Yuji tilts his head. “He was a pretty big guy.”
“Eh.” Kinji shrugs. “He was tall, but he was really lean.”
“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Maki says. “It was an open secret that Satoru was a lightweight. All the adults would talk about it.”
“We’re kinda adults now though,” Yuta murmurs into his cup, already petering into his own world.
She glances at him and scoffs: “you know what I mean.”
“It had something to do with his eyes,” Kirara adds. “I have to be careful with mine too.”
“That makes sense, I guess,” Yuji considers. “I just can’t imagine him out of it like that.”
“You never knew him as a teenager,” Megumi tells him, before taking the rest of his drink like a shot. He swallows and shakes his head slowly as he brings his cup back down.
“I watched him spill his guts all over the floor hungover once,” he divulges. “He knew it was a bad idea, but he went out anyway, and made it Nanami’s job to get him home.”
“Nanami?” Yuji’s eyes go wide. “Now I really can’t see it.”
“They were friends,” Nobara says, shifting to sit half horizontally in her seat with her legs hanging over the arm rest. “I guess them hanging out makes sense, even if it is weird to think about.”
“He told me about that,” he replies. “It’s just that I can’t imagine them ever being irresponsible.”
“Let me set the scene for you then.” Kinji chuckles, suddenly elated as he morphs into a proud raconteur.
“We’re in his office, sitting face to face, right?” He recounts, gestures and all. “He takes a shot with me, and he doesn’t make a face, which I was betting on.”
“I still think the sunglasses were cheating,” Kirara supplies. “It hid the pain in his eyes.”
“Yeah, yeah, but I can deal with that,” he continues. “I called for another round, which he wasn’t keen on, so I had to double the pool, and agree to stay out of law enforcement’s path for a while.”
“You were really running up his expenses back then, weren’t you?” She giggles, dropping her chin on his shoulder. “There was a list of all the fines he paid for you somewhere.”
“Don’t give me more of a reason to miss him,” he tsks and wraps his arm around her.
“He tried to keep a straight face, and he managed until he almost had it down, but no dice,” he narrates. “He had a coughing fit and turned bright red. It was surreal.”
“No way.” Yuji gasps, just slightly too excited. He leans forward, eager for whatever Kinji could say next.
“Kirara had to give him water,” he details. “It took him a few minutes to recover.”
“I didn’t know he couldn’t handle the taste too,” Maki comments.
“Well, it is terrible,” Megumi concedes. “I’ll give him that.”
“It’s not that bad,” Nobara interjects. “It’s pretty good when it’s diluted.”
Maki gives her a look. “Don’t be a contrarian. The taste isn’t why you drink it–”
“That’s why the real story is what happened after,” Kirara interrupts. “If you thought him acting serious was a terrifying rarity, you should try seeing him knocked on his ass.”
“We got him to try Strong Zero with us, and played cards, which he got worse and worse at,” Kinji relays. “I didn’t expect it, but he got more reserved. Stopped talking so much.”
“And, that’s the craziest part,” Megumi says, raising his cup in a solo toast to no one.
Yuji pats him on the back.
“I tried getting him to chat and he could not come up with a coherent answer,” Kirara tells them. “He tried to start a few life lessons, but we never made it to the lesson part.”
“Then he went silent and got all sweaty, and you know what that means,” Kinji warns.
“I saw him start to, you know…” She gestures with thought, then feigns a hitch and a gag. “So I got up and was like ‘go to the bathroom.’”
“But no, he just vomited straight in his lap,” he reveals.
“Ew.” Nobara wrinkles her nose.
“Seriously?” Yuji asks.
“Yeah, he had his hand over his face, trying to hide.” Kirara mimics it, the base of her wrist on her cheek and her fingertips closer to her forehead, loosely covering her eyes.
“I remember this…” Yuta says suddenly, his intonation wonkier than usual. “I have some of Gojo’s mem’ries still…”
“Oh.” She nods in semi-disbelief, as everyone else stops to question that. “Freaky.”
“How would he have any memory of that in the first place?” Maki kicks him under the table hard enough for Toge to feel it.
“I don’t know…” Yuta mumbles, dropping his head on her shoulder.
“He makes shit up,” she says plainly. “Continue.”
“We were trying to get him up, but he was so gone,” Kinji does. “He almost passed out as soon as he stood, so I pushed him back onto the couch–”
“And he’s still throwing up this whole time, by the way,” Kirara reminds them. “So I’m like shaking him and trying to get him to sit up.”
“When she got his attention, he could barely tell us to get Ieiri,” he explains. “So I left–”
“And I’m not gonna lie, I totally ripped my pen before this,” she admits. “So I was kind of greening on my own.”
“You had a pen?” Yuji suddenly leans forward in surprise. “Like for real?”
“Huh?” Nobara asks. “What about a pen?”
“A pen?” Kirara repeats.
“What pen?” She sits up straighter, even more confused.
“A weed pen?” Maki clarifies.
“Huh?” It’s still not clicking.
“Country folk,” Megumi says distantly.
“Hey–” She growls.
“You know cannabis? Marijuana?” Maki tries. “Weed?”
“Oh.” She nods. “Like in American movies.”
“Speaking of.” Kirara turns and pinches her fingers at Kinji. “Kin-chan, my cart.”
“Is that real?” Yuji gapes as he passes her a disposable.
“Would I have it if it wasn’t?” She takes a hit, then blows the vapor in Toge’s direction, passing it to him next.
“You look bored,” she tells him.
He shrugs sarcastically and accepts the offer. It’s something like cherry covered in dirt, but he couldn’t have expected any better since these are always so earthy.
“Anyway,” she continues. “In the same way Gojo was the strongest sorcerer and the lightest of lightweights, Yu-tan is the second strongest sorcerer and the second lightest of the lightweights.”
“M’not…” He argues. “M’not even tired…”
Toge fumbles to pat him on the back encouragingly, but he hits a little harder than he means to, but Yuta doesn’t react. At the same time, he notices they’re almost halfway through the second bottle of vodka.
“Wait, so how did Gojo even let you guys do this?” Yuji asks.
“Bribery,” Kinji replies.
“More like extortion.” Kirara snickers, then takes another shot.
“How?” Nobara leans in toward them. “Do you know how high he let me run up his card? There’s no way you convinced him with money–”
“S’cuse me–” Megumi stands suddenly, shuffling over in Yuji’s direction, just to plop down half on top of him in his chair.
“Easy, easy–” Is all Yuji reacts with, reaching up to guide him as he drops.
“He got in big trouble with the higher-ups over it,” Kinji discloses. “We heard Gakuganji talking to Utahime about it at the exchange event a year later.”
Kirara cackles at that.
“He called him a ‘gangly, cocksucking barrel of irresponsibility,’” she quotes, patting his thigh and headbutting his shoulder as she laughs. “I’ve never heard an old guy so impassioned.”
“‘Gangly,’” Nobara echoes with a giggle. “He was so gangly.”
“That was the hardest part ‘a being in his body–” Yuta snorts. “Him and his long ass legs…”
The casualness with which he says it catches Toge off guard and he chokes on his next hit, sending himself into a coughing fit he can’t stop smiling through.
“Gimme,” Yuta demands, reaching for the cart.
“I thought you passed out when you vape,” Kirara says.
“He only does that with nicotine,” Maki specifies, but she wraps her arm around him protectively anyway.
“Nicotine?” He repeats. “You got some?”
She ignores him.
“Drunk cigs don’t count…” He announces, raising his fist like he’s about to give a speech, but she tugs it back down gently, capitalizing on the complacent stage.
“You’re so pretty…” He mumbles into her shoulder.
Toge watches them for just a moment too long, slight discomfort blossoming deep in his gut, beneath layers and layers of other, more important concerns that tell him not to worry about it right now. He wouldn’t listen though, if not for an immediate distraction.
“Can I try that?” Yuji asks.
He nods and holds it out for him, almost losing his balance since he doesn’t have an extra arm to steady himself with.
Kirara reaches across the table and grabs his wrist before he can lean too far back.
Yuji shifts beneath Megumi to properly take it, his arm barely long enough.
“So how do I do this?” He examines the thing. It’s a 5 gram with a digital display; the square kind with a mouthpiece on one corner.
“You doin’ drugs?” Megumi lifts his head, dazedly squinting at the thing.
“I’m about to,” he replies. “If that’s okay.”
“Mm…” He leans against him. “Legalize it…”
“Press the button for a stronger hit,” Kirara recommends. “You might need it since you’re so dense.”
“‘Dense.’” Nobara guffaws. “He is so dense.”
“No, I mean like…” She seems to realize how that came out. “Like how he’s built–”
“You’re not wrong either way–” She snorts.
“Thanks.” Yuji rolls his eyes. “I got what you meant.”
He brings the spout to his lips, pushing down on the button. Toge expects him to take a quick puff, like most people do on their first try, but he keeps going.
“Oh, shit–” Kinji comments. “That’s enough, man–”
The light on the side starts to flash just as he coughs, smoke blowing everywhere and coming out his nose.
“Don’t puke–” Kirara jumps up and takes the vape back.
He hacks violently, both hands on Megumi’s sides to keep him stable as he lists sideways, drooling over the ground.
“You good?” Megumi asks slowly.
“Don’t rip a blinker on your first go–” She scolds, taking a puff as she pats him on the back.
“Rip a–” His chest contracts again, flecks of spit spraying everywhere as his eyes go red. “Rip a w-what?”
“You took way too long of a hit,” Maki tells him.
“How–” He wheezes. “How long was I– God, ow– fuck… supposed to…?”
“Like three seconds.” Kirara exhales a more reasonable cloud.
“Oh, shit–” He laughs, still coughing.
“Idiot,” Nobara jeers.
“You try it–” He gasps, finally starting to catch his breath. “Jesus… Is that really what weed tastes like?”
“It’s flavored,” Kirara explains “Also, you’ve gotta inhale. You pull some into your mouth, wait a second, then actually breathe in.”
“You could have told me that before…” He clears his throat. “It’s like tingling in my lungs…”
“Salmon roe.” Toge gives him a thumbs up without thinking and almost falls sideways. He quickly drops his palm back on the table to stop himself, body now faster than his mind.
“Oooh, someone’s talkative,” Kirara remarks excitedly.
“Yeah, s’normal…” Yuta adds, probably trying to translate for him on instinct.
“Cod roe,” he says.
“It’s like… in my head too…” Yuji observes, starting to mildly twitch. “That’s so weird.”
“You’re ‘n my head…” Megumi murmurs as he sways in place.
“You okay?” He asks, wrapping his arm around his biceps and jostling him a bit.
“Mhm…” He snuggles closer. “You’re warm…”
“Gross,” Nobara objects. “Get a room.”
“It’s not like that,” Yuji calmly replies, more interested in Megumi than his words. “It’s just getting cold out.”
“It’s practically summer already,” she argues.
“Oh, hey,” Kinji says, holding up the second bottle of vodka, which now has less than a third or so left. “We’re almost out and I haven’t made the fresh meat try it straight.”
“One last round?” Kirara confirms.
There’s a medley of casual cheers and exclamations from all around, with Toge even throwing in a “salmon!”
“Aw, wait–” Nobara frowns as Kinji starts to pour. “That’s all there is? I want more…”
“Oh!” Kirara perks up and absently shoves the cart back at Toge. She hops over to her bag and bends down.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” She passes her a glass bottle of Sapporo and uses her technique to open it, marking both the cap and the rim with a star to force them to separate.
“Good luck with the taste.” Maki grimaces as she watches her take her first sip.
“Hm?” She tilts her head, then looks down at the beer. “That’s pretty good actually.”
“Really?” Yuji raises one eyebrow. “My granddad let me try his when I was a kid and it was so bad.”
“Yeah, it’s a little bitter, but I kinda like the flavor,” she decides, then tilts her head back to keep drinking.
“Hang on.” He holds out his hand, opening and closing his fingers. “Lemme try–”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Kinji interrupts, pointing to the row of solo cups. “Cleanse your palettes first, come on.”
Kirara’s still handing them out to the three on the outskirts, when Yuta takes his without waiting for everyone else.
Maki clicks her teeth and glares at him, but he’s not even paying attention to her.
“Well, since we’re ready, I guess,” Kinji says. “To getting drunker than Gojo ever could–”
“To frying our brains until we’re bigger idiots than the one who started it all–” Kirara concurs.
“Amen,” Maki mutters before she tosses hers back.
Toge starts to take his, but he quickly realizes he forgot to lower his mask this time. It’s wet now, so he has no choice but to take it off and face the disappointment that it absorbed a decent splash of his last drink, which was underpoured already.
To compensate, he follows it up with a long draw off the cart.
There’s a sudden choked noise on his right, and he turns his head just in time to see Megumi gag mid-sip. The rest of the shot runs down his chin as he holds the rest in his mouth, his face scrunching up.
“You okay?” Yuji asks again, voice still thin from his own.
Megumi shakes his head before he spits back into his cup as he doubles over.
“Shit– Don’t throw up–” He says quickly, also leaning forward, trying to get a better look at him.
“That’s so shit–” He hiccups and coughs. “Like hand san’tizer…”
“Baby,” Nobara shouts. “Man up like the rest of us.”
“You’re so mean–” Yuji chides, rubbing circles over Megumi’s lower back.
“Do you need some water?” He whispers to him. “We can go take a walk or I can get up if you need some space–”
“Megumi, don’t–” Maki jumps to her feet before anyone else realizes what he’s doing, but she’s not fast enough.
“EW–” Nobara shrieks as he sits up and drinks what he just spat out in a few determined swallows.
“Okay, nope–” Yuji tries to take the cup from him, but he twists out of easy reach. “Hey–”
“Come on, man,” Kinji says, mild fascination coupled with disgust on his face.
He drops his cup in the dirt and presses his palm to his sternum as he finishes. He pants heavily for a moment, going green.
Everyone freezes as he hitches, but he relaxes against Yuji after a few seconds.
“That’s one way to party.” Kirara breaks the silence with a laugh, snatching Nobara’s sunglasses off her face without looking.
“Hey–” She yells and scrambles to get up. “Those are– Aack–”
She forgets that she’d gotten herself into a curled sitting position, so her ankle catches on the armrest, sending her rolling straight onto the ground.
“Ooh no...” Yuta gasps, his head slowly lolling in her direction. “Y’okay? I’ll help you–”
He reaches for Maki’s shoulder to help himself stand, but she’s not there anymore and his hand plummets straight down into nothing with the force of all his weight. He hits the ground flat on his back with a dull thud, harder than Nobara did in the first place.
“You idiot.” Maki pinches the bridge of her nose with a huff.
“M’sorry,” he whines.
Toge leans back after him without thinking, catching himself on his one overextended arm with no way to get himself or Yuta back up.
She opts to assist Nobara before even sparing either of them another glance, so he heaves himself sideways and revolves over his stump side off the bench until he’s on his ass in a patch of grass.
Yuta seems unbothered, even though his legs are bent at an awkward angle, stuck under the table. He squints, probably trying to look at the stars through his haze.
“Kin-chan,” Kirara chirps, sitting on her knees next to him with her hands on his thigh. “A fag, please.”
“Look in the mirror,” he chuckles, but quickly receives a hard smack upside the head. “Ow–”
“Give me a cigarette,” she demands.
“So bossy,” he mutters, reaching into his jacket pocket. “You’re wasting words on their British definitions.”
“It’s classier that way,” she argues, taking a Mevius Yellow with her teeth from between his fingers. She bites down on the filter, crushing the flavor capsule inside.
“Ligh’,” she says, muffled.
“Hm?” Yuta pushes himself upright as the lighter flicks.
“Tuna, tuna,” Toge rasps, doing his best to look in Yuji’s direction, since he’s most likely to be helpful.
“Oh– Hey.” He pats Megumi’s upper arm. “Get up for a second.”
“Hm?” He blinks.
“Sorry, I have to move,” he says, delicately shifting out from beneath him as he stands.
“Here.” He offers Toge his hand, then seems to quickly realize he doesn’t have the balance to take it and crouches to wrap his arm around his back instead, easily pulling him to his feet.
“You okay?” He asks.
He nods, tripping past him to Kirara.
“I wan’ some…” Yuta complains from the ground.
“Oh, just ignore him.” Maki shakes her head, watching him with a judgmental glower.
“I should get him in a better position though,” Yuji says, rounding the table over to him. “I don’t want his blood to start pooling or anything.”
“Tuna mayo.” Toge taps Kirara on the shoulder.
“You want some?” She holds out the half-done cigarette.
He nods and takes it. The tar hits him first, but as he exhales, there’s a pleasant citrus flavor left on his tongue. It’s kind of like oven-roasted Sprite.
Warmth blooms in his chest and head as he takes another puff, so he passes it back. He trips sideways and drops heavily onto the bench behind him, opposite where he was sitting a few minutes ago.
“Woah, hey, careful–” The table creaks and shakes as Yuta bumps into it, Yuji trying and failing to steady him before he stumbles away.
“Please?” He begs, colliding with and wrapping his arms around Maki.
“I don’t have anything you want,” she says dryly, refusing to hug him back.
Toge outstretches his arm as an invitation, but without its support, he lists sideways. His ribs strike the side of the table hard before he drops his elbow back down.
He inhales sharply, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out all over him.
“You have smthin’...” Yuta mumbles. “But’s for private stuff–”
“Shut up.” Maki’s cheeks go red as she peels him off of her. “You look stupid.”
“S’okay…” He staggers away and into Kinji instead, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.
“Heyyy, buddy…” He starts. “How’re you?”
“We’re friends. Just tell me if you want a short or long,” he says, patting him on the back as he takes a swig of his beer.
“You can give him one of mine, if he wants something less harsh.” Kirara crushes the butt of hers into the dirt.
“Let a man live a little.” He chuckles, holding up a pack of Marlboros.
“Yeah, yeah–” Her expression hardens as she looks up, narrowing her eyes at Yuta. “Come on–”
She grabs his wrist and yanks him away from Kinji, sitting him down next to Toge more harshly than she needs to. She then replaces him at his side, slipping into his jacket with him.
“So jealous,” he comments, passing a cigarette to Yuta anyway.
He immediately drops it in his lap, then looks up dejectedly with sad puppy-dog eyes.
Kinji just picks it up and puts it in his mouth for him, then sparks the lighter as soon as he sloppily reaches up to hold it.
“Thank you…” He grins. “I like y’more when I’m drunk…”
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He claps him on the shoulder.
“Babe, where’s my cart?” Kirara asks suddenly.
“I don’t know,” he answers, lighting his own smoke. “Who had it last?”
“I don’t know.” She whips her head around, leg starting to bounce.
“Yu-chan,” she barks.
Yuji, who’s currently crouching in front of Megumi, making sure he’s awake, looks over his shoulder at her.
“Do you have my cart?” She questions, anxiety already an edge in her voice.
“No, you took it back,” he says.
“You gave it to Toge,” Maki supplies, taking the empty beer from Nobara as she leans on her.
“Where is it?” Kirara turns to him with fury in her stare, purple irises terrifyingly large now that they’re pointed right at him.
It’s then that he remembers he had it when he was sitting on the other side, but he has no idea what he did with it.
So he just vaguely points to where he fell earlier.
“Oh.” Yuji peers over. “Yeah, it’s over here.”
“Give it,” she insists as he picks it up.
He takes a quick hit before he hands it back.
“What’s that even supposed to taste like?” He coughs.
“Tropical-something?” She guesses, then tries it again. “It might be Red Icee.”
“I can’t–” Yuta says suddenly, holding up his cigarette as he hangs his head. He’s trembling and covered in perspiration. “Someone–”
Kirara takes it from him, letting him dizzily slump over the table.
Toge runs his fingers through his hair, hopefully in a comforting way.
“Yuji,” Megumi pipes up.
“Yeah?” He turns around.
“Help me up…” He requests, lazily holding out his arms.
Yuji obliges, but they only make it about one step before he goes limp and drops to his knees.
“Shit– Sorry–” He immediately follows. “Are you okay?”
“M’fine,” he says, swatting at him with a vague affirmative gesture. “Wanted t’sit down…”
Yuji nods, rubbing up and down his spine as he settles in next to him on the ground.
Kirara drops to a squat too, only a few feet away. She holds the cigarette out for him.
“I’m good.” He shakes his head. “My grandfather died of lung cancer, so I have to be careful.”
“You’re not supposed to bring that up, if you couldn’t tell,” Kinji says, taking a seat next to her.
Though, she just shrugs and instead offers it to Megumi, who accepts.
Maki frowns and pushes Nobara onto the bench, next to Yuta, then crosses the circle they’ve formed to get between him and Kirara, but he’s already taking a long inhale.
“Hey–” She says sternly, snatching it from him. “You don’t need that.”
“Oh, come on,” Kinji complains as she stubs it out.
“You should thank me for stopping him before he vomits.” She rolls her eyes and crouches to squeeze Megumi’s upper arm. “You good?”
“Mhm…” He nods slowly, yet emphatically.
“Y’know…” He murmurs. “If y’think seeing Gojo drunk was crazy, you should’ve seen’m cry…”
“For real?” Kinji sits up.
“No way.” Nobara waves him off, looking up at the sky. “He was totally one of those constipated ‘emotions make me weak’ kind of guys.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Yuji says, a rare hint of rigidity in his tone.
“Only saw once…” Megumi confesses. “A single tear ran down‘is cheek…”
“Why?” Kirara asks.
“His ‘best friend.’” He puts air quotes around it. “Ev’ryone knew it w’s more–”
He hiccups and sways in place.
Yuji steadies him.
“You know, I always wondered about that," Kirara says. “When he found out I was trans, he implied he was queer too.”
“He got home at like four’n the morning…” Megumi recounts. “Prob’ly thought I was asleep, but I walked in on him ‘n he was red-eyed an’sniffling. Shoko told me why later…”
“I love Shoko,” Nobara chimes in. “My queen…”
“We all love Shoko.” Kirara drops her head on Kinji’s shoulder.
“I knew her wh’n I was a kid too…” He says. “She ‘n Nanami babysat me, and Gojo brought her home super wasted once…”
“Crazy.” She nods, overly interested. “I’ve seen her down a bottle of tequila and still be on her feet.”
“She’s happier when she’s drunk,” Nobara adds. “I think she’s like… addicted or something…”
“I’m gonna go’ver there–” Megumi suddenly hauls himself to his feet, staggering towards the trees.
“Hold on–” Yuji scrambles to go after him, Maki following suit.
Toge doesn’t know what business he has getting involved, but he also stands, then quickly realizes how bad of an idea that is.
Grey noise overtakes his vision as tinnitus he’s only noticing now crescendos.
“Oh, shit–” He hears as a cool hand grabs his own, spurring a tingly eruption in his palms that radiates up his forearm.
“Toge, honey, sit down,” Kirara says, pushing him back onto the bench.
He tries to get back up as soon as his ass meets the plywood. He trips over her mismatched Converse, heading straight for the ground.
But she’s still holding his hand, so he only dips the opposite way of the table. Soreness blooms in his shoulders as the end of his humerus is yanked just a bit too hard in its socket.
She holds him there for a few seconds, but with sweat building up between their fingers and gravity picking a fight, his ass meets grass.
“Whatever works, I guess,” she sighs.
“No, I hav’to,” Megumi argues, arms around Yuji about ten feet away.
“If we go now, can you make it the walk back?” He asks.
“I’m telling you,” he whines. “I need to piss…”
“Oh, forget it,” Maki decides. “Just let him go on a tree.”
She wedges beneath his arm, taking over for Yuji.
He shifts to Megumi’s other side as he feels his pockets.
“I think I have tissues or something…” he says, trailing off as they venture deeper into the woods.
For a moment, Toge wants to laugh, but then he remembers how humiliating it is to have someone watch you practically piss yourself, and that makes him want to die.
Not completely though, since that was so long ago, it can’t get to him now; not when his consciousness is in the clouds, separate from his brain and body, and all earthly matters.
That might be going a little too far, but the point is that for the first time, he can actually put those kinds of memories aside.
“Here.” Kirara’s suddenly in front of him again. “Drink this.”
She brings a cup to his lips, tilting it back for him until he gets it together and wraps his hand around it.
“It’s just Coke,” she says. “Not the fun kind, but the caffeine and sugar should keep you up.”
He chugs the rest all in one go, since it’s going flat, then bows his head gratefully as he hands the glass back to her.
“Straight line– Walk in a straight line,” Yuji instructs as he and Megumi reappear. “Careful–”
“I think it’s time to head in now,” Maki announces, trailing behind.
“We should go to the spare room,” Kinji replies. “The one on the guy’s side.”
“Technically, it was mine first, so don’t act like you own it,” Kirara pouts, just for the sake of it, it seems.
He quiets her with a reassuring hand on her hip.
“Right, that’s by the back entrance, so it’s easy,” Maki conspires.
“That’s why I picked it,” he grumbles. “You act like I’m stupid or something–”
“Maki–” Yuta suddenly groans.
“What now?” She asks blandly.
“Maki…” He repeats, pushing himself upright. “I need… I…”
He unsteadily gets to his feet, then immediately stumbles, tripping over Toge and stepping on his hand, just to crash into her. He wraps his arms around her neck, putting all his weight on her.
“Yuta?” She says as his breath speeds up.
He gags into her shoulder, but she doesn’t have time to move him before she makes a wetter noise and liquid splashes onto her shirt. Thin, greenish bile runes down the fabric, tiny particulate chunks sticking.
“EW, EW–” Nobara screams, jumping up and rushing to get as far away as possible.
“Huh?” Megumi looks up, but Yuji quickly turns his cheek away before he can see what’s happening.
Yuta retches again, bringing up another spurt of vomit that splatters onto the ground this time as Maki forces distance between them.
Nobara shrieks, then gags sympathetically.
He gulps a couple of times, before lifting his head and looking around dazedly. He takes one hand off Maki to wipe his mouth, then pivots to uselessly cupping it under his chin as he throws up again, a more forceful wave spilling out.
“Damn,” Kinji comments, unhelpfully.
Maki grabs his upper arm just his knees go weak.
“You with me?” She asks stiffly.
“Hhuh?” He blinks at the mess, like he wasn’t the one who made it.
“Are you done?” She tightens her grip on him.
He just stares at her, excess puke and saliva running down his chin. He looks down at his hand, then at Maki and his own front. They’re both covered in the stuff.
“Here.” Yuji steps in with an open pack of travel tissues, wiping his face for him.
“Come here, over here,” Kirara directs, waving them over to the table.
Toge scrambles out of the way before he becomes collateral damage, opting to watch from the sidelines next to Megumi, who’s half asleep in his chair.
“I’m sorry–” Yuta blurts out as soon as he’s sitting.
“Don’t talk,” Maki says, helping Yuji wipe him down.
“Rinse your mouth out,” Kirara instructs, nestling in between them to bring a cup of water to his lips.
“Tell us if you feel sick again,” Yuji adds.
“Kinji, do you have my pen?” She asks over her shoulder.
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s charged,” he replies.
“It should be,” she says. “The cartridge is almost empty. I’ll let him hit it, then toss it out.”
“You want him to smoke now?” Yuji looks at her like she has three heads.
“Just a little. It helps with nausea,” she explains, clicking the button a few times to turn it on.
“Lean forward,” Maki guides, her hand firmly planted over Yuta’s spine. “It’ll get worse if you lean back.”
“Try this.” Kirara swaps the water out for the pen. “You’ll feel a little better, I promise, just breathe in.”
Miraculously, he’s still coordinated and conscious enough to figure out what to do, even sitting straight up in momentary excitement. He sways in place, then breaks into a coughing fit as he exhales.
“Are you okay?” Yuji shakes him lightly by the shoulder. “Okkotsu?”
“Huh?” He wheezes between hacks.
“He’s fine,” Maki determines as she takes off her shirt.
Yuji quickly looks away from her bra, cheeks red.
“Yuta, I need you to hold this,” she commands, pushing her soiled shirt into his hands. “Can you do that?”
“What?” He rasps, eyes unfocused.
“Hold this,” she repeats, enunciating each word as clearly as possible.
“Hold this?” He echoes.
“Yes, hold it,” she says. “If you need to vomit, do it on that, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods.
“I’m gonna carry you so you don’t fall,” she tells him, before scooping him up bridal-style.
Yuji makes to offer her a hand, but she shakes her head.
“I’ve got him,” she says. “Go get Megumi.”
“Toge.” Kinji appears above him at that same moment. “Get up. Come on.”
He lets him pull him to his feet, then does his best to walk steadily as soon as he lets go.
“Kugisaki, let’s go.” Yuji calls over his shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go near him,” she complains. “So gross–”
“You’ll survive,” Kirara tells her as she picks up the last bits of trash and tosses them in her bag.
“Do I have to…” She whines.
“We can leave you out here instead.” She shrugs.
“No, no...” She carefully rounds the non-puke-tainted side of the table, then steps in toe with Kirara, hanging back from the danger zone.
Toge’s never known her to be particularly squeamish, and he wouldn’t have expected it from how crazy she is, but people change when they’re intoxicated.
He trips once they make it to the field, which turns him into an immediate obstacle for Kinji, then the near crush victim Kirara’s rushing over to dote on.
“Toge, my dear, no–” She bends down and waves him up encouragingly. “Come on. Just hold my hand.”
He lets her guide him until there’s lights in the distance, and lights right in front of him, and lights shining straight into his eyeballs, while all the steps in between are a static blur.
“In here,” she whispers, ushering him through a door just like the one for his dorm.
But they’re not in his dorm.
He follows Maki into what turns out to be the bathroom, where he watches her put Yuta down in front of the toilet and immediately have to prop him since he’s half passed out.
“Get up,” she demands.
“Hm…?” He shifts, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Don’t puke on yourself again,” she orders, dragging him upright.
“M’not gonna…” He groans.
“Toge, sit down,” Maki says without looking away.
He just tilts his head and blinks at her.
“Toge, sit down,” Kirara says as she materializes at his shoulder.
“Over here. Come’re…” She guides him over to the bathtub and pushes him down in front of it. “Sit right there.”
“Get him water,” Maki instructs, and moments later a plastic bottle is being handed to her.
“Yu-tan, sweetie, drink.” Kirara crouches next to him and encouragingly pats his knee.
He tiredly concedes, gulping it down greedily as Maki tilts the drink back for him.
“There you go,” she praises. “You’ll feel better hydrated.”
“Stop spilling,” Maki scolds. “You already made a mess.”
He either can’t or won’t listen, half each sip overflowing down his chin, but at least it rinses off the sticky remnants of bile still clinging to his skin.
“Maki…” He whimpers.
“What?” She pulls the bottle away, giving him a menacing stare.
“I like how y’look without this…” He hiccups and limply holds out her t-shirt, which has become no more than a glorified towel.
“Aww,” Kirara coos.
“Are you serious?” Maki says. “You– No, look at me– You vomited on me. It’s not cute.”
“Huh?” He angles his ear toward her like he couldn’t hear the first time.
“You are disgusting right now,” she makes clear, stressing each syllable. “This is embarrassing.”
“Oh.” He blinks. “Why?”
“You idiot.” She scoffs and shakes her head. “You make me wish I could black out just so I wouldn’t have to deal with you any longer.”
“Why’re y’still here then…?” He asks innocently.
“What– No–” A subtle blush breaks out over her cheeks. “I’m making sure you don’t choke–”
“Young love, so sweet,” Kirara comments, pulling out her phone. She flips it around and snaps a picture of them. “You’ll want this when you grow old–”
“Delete that,” Maki growls.
“No.” She smiles.
“Delete–”
“Maki…” Yuta breathes.
“What?” She whips back around to glare at him.
“I don’ feel s’good…” He groans, sinking further towards the floor where he’s wedged between the wall and the toilet.
“Get up,” she says, already manhandling him. She lifts the toilet seat to keep the inevitable from catching it as he tucks his chin.
“M’gonna puke–” He whines.
“Open your eyes, dumbass,” she tells him, though her words lack bite. “You’re in the bathroom.”
“Oh–” He exclaims, just as a gag rises, bringing with it a thin trickle of water that’s probably still cold.
Maki rubs circles over his spine with one hand, keeping him upright with the other.
He sticks out his tongue, panting, before he retches again. A heartier wave breaks free and liquid hits liquid, still clear, but slightly bubbly and tinted with dilute cola.
Kirara holds up her phone once more, putting up a peace sign and snapping a selfie with the two of them behind her.
“Seriously?” Maki looks at her with something between disappointment and disbelief.
“This is for you to shame him with in the morning,” she says, firing off a text before she sticks the device back against her thigh, using her technique like an invisible holster, since her shorts are definitely too short to host functioning pockets.
“You’re wasting your storage,” she replies as he coughs wetly and spits up a pitiful spurt of thicker, greenish-brown fluid. “He never learns.”
“I thought he’d handle himself better now that he has some more meat on his bones.” Kirara sighs.
“You call this ‘meat’?” Maki pinches his arm to demonstrate, which is, admittedly, very slim, but he has layers of fat and muscle mass that he didn’t when he first enrolled, as thin as they may be.
He clutches fistfuls of his hair as his breath hitches. He spits, trying and failing to clear dangling strands of spit from his lower lip, but it’s proved moot anyway when a gurgle catches in his throat and he heaves again, a violent gush of liquor and soda splattering into the bowl so hard droplets splash back up in his face.
“Jesus,” Kirara mutters. “Turning the depressed ones into friends really isn’t my best work, is it?”
“It’s not,” Maki flatly says, tearing off some toilet paper.
Sneakers squeal against hardwood just as there’s a knock at the doorway.
“Hey.” Yuji swings around, holding onto the frame as he leans sideways. “Is he like… okay?”
“Yeah, he’ll just be miserable tomorrow– Or today, technically.” She glances at her watch. “How’s Megumi?”
“Tired,” he says. “He’s falling asleep, so I think I’m gonna take him back to his dorm.”
“Stay with him and make sure he stays on his side,” she instructs. “I don’t think he’s that messed up, but better safe than sorry.”
“Got it–” He starts to give her a thumbs up, but he’s interrupted by sudden, frantic footsteps. “Woah, hey–”
Megumi rushes in, hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes go wide at the sight of everyone in here, and he immediately convulses with a silent retch that carries a mouthful of vomit out against his palm. Since it can’t go forward, it instead erupts in every direction, smearing across his cheeks and down his neck.
“Come on, come here–” Kirara stands and reaches for him, but he awkwardly stumbles past her.
“Wait–” Yuji also tries to stop him, but with too many people in here already, not tripping on anyone is functionally impossible, especially as Nobara pops up behind him, yelling at him for running off.
She then screams and jumps back when Megumi decides the toilet being occupied is not a problem and that the most logical solution is to grab Yuta’s head and move it out of the way as he bends at the waist and throws up again.
To his credit, he manages not to actually puke on him, excluding where he’s dripping.
“Megumi, get over the sink,” Maki shouts.
He’s not listening; too busy gagging repeatedly in preparation for the next round, so Yuji and Kirara both grab an elbow each and tug him backward.
“Here,” Yuji says just in time as he heaves again, more productively this time.
“Don’t let him puke in the sink,” Kinji yells from the main room, before he materializes behind the doorway, wearing a grimace.
“You’re cleaning that.” He points at Yuji.
“Come on,” he says calmly, guiding him over to the bathtub instead. “Yeah, sit down. Don’t fall–”
Toge scoots over to give them room.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“I just felt really sick,” Megumi rasps, clutching the lip of the tub so hard his knuckles are white as he leans forward.
“I know,” he soothes. “It’ll be okay. Just get it up if you need to.”
“Do you feel better?” Kirara moves her hand in circles over his lumbar spine.
“Yeah– Yeah, I’m okay…” He murmurs, wiping his nose on his knuckles as he sits back on his heels.
“You sure?” Yuji checks, brows knit together.
He starts to nod, but Yuta retches loudly behind them, and that sets off a couple of dry heaves.
“I’m okay–” He repeats with a sharp inhale and gulp.
“It’s fine if you still feel bad,” Yuji says.
“We can stay here as long as you need,” Kirara assures him.
“I’m… I feel better…” He whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she comforts. “You’re not the only one that made a mess tonight.”
“Yeah…” He looks down at his hands like he didn’t know they were there before. “That’s really gross…”
“Hold on,” Yuji tells him, getting to his feet. He steps over to the sink and runs the tap for a minute or so, rinsing vomit down the drain, before he turns back to Megumi and helps him up.
“Here,” he says softly, sliding soap between his fingers. “Rinse them off.”
He then moves onto his face, dampening a washcloth and wiping his cheeks down for him. It’s probably warm, judging by his lack of reaction.
“Here,” Kirara says too.
Toge doesn’t react, assuming it’s not meant for him, until he realizes she’s standing right in front of him and repeating his name.
“Mustard leaf?” He asks, presence and awareness dawning on him like sunrise as the ability to move, feel, and speak kicks back in out of nowhere.
“Yeah, yeah.” She hands him a bottle of water, the lid already removed. “Try to drink all of that.”
That doesn’t answer his question, but he takes a sip anyway.
“Are you done?” Maki asks Yuta, who’s still miserably curled around the toilet, pale and drenched in sweat.
But he nods and weakly paws at the lever to flush.
“Take your coat off,” she instructs quietly.
“Why?” He frowns.
“It has vomit on it,” she explains coldly, unbuttoning it for him.
“Why?” He moves as if he’s going to push her away, then seems to decide better of it.
“You know why,” she says, manually pulling his arms out of his sleeves.
“Just put him in the tub for tonight,” Kinji tells them, poking his head through the door frame.
Toge waves at him, spilling his water as he does, since he forgot to put it down.
He waves back, then disappears again.
“Come on.” Yuji’s leading Megumi out too, his head dropped on his shoulder. He takes the mini trash can with them, just in case.
“Toge,” Kirara calls, her knees stepping into his field of view before she bends down. “Are you feeling okay?”
He nods.
“It’s sleepover time,” she says, offering her hand.
He lets her pull him to his feet, then back into what used to be a bedroom, now converted to a secluded common hang out space, complete with a few more bean bags and an upgraded couch since the last time he vaguely recalls spending the night in here.
It’s been so long.
Kinji passes her a small glass of something that looks suspiciously like whiskey when they walk by. She takes it as a shot, making a face and shaking her head afterwards, while she guides him over to the sofa.
“Tuna?” He asks, flopping against the cushions.
“No, that’s just for me,” she answers, then turns her head to cough. “Kick your shoes off, my love.”
He does as he’s told, as much as he wants to resist, and soon she’s gently pushing him to lay down and fixing a throw pillow under his ear.
“I’m gonna grab you a blanket.” She pats him on the shoulder.
He pulls his knees toward his chest.
His eyes are heavy with exhaustion, and he’s sure everyone else is just as tired, but he’d give anything to stay up just a little longer.
Dread encircles him as a light switch flicks, but he doesn’t see which lamp it corresponds to, already drifting off.
He doesn’t want this night to end.