Chapter Text
December 22nd, 2025 - AUBURN, MAINE, USA
Megumi,
It’s been a while, kid! Congrats on 22 years around the sun.
Updates on me.. I’ve taken up hiking recently with a group of geezers I met at the gym. Work is going okay too. I’ve tried to call you a few times. Hopefully by the time you get this you’ve already called me back.
I saw this pair of skates at a shop in Shibuya. You wouldn’t remember, but you used to love coming window shopping with me out here. The guy said they’re “premium” and they have good foot support for your turns or something. You know I don’t really know about any of that shit. But he made them sound pretty useful.
Call me sometime. Naomi texts me at least once a week. She says you’re okay. Would be nice to hear it directly from you though. Love you and happy birthday.
- Dad
Megumi sets the note aside and pulls the red decorative paper out of the box, revealing a brand new pair of skates underneath. He grabs one, fingers tingling around its weight as he turns it over to look at the details. It only takes about five seconds for him to determine that they’re not really his style.
He wouldn’t expect Toji to know what kind of skate is his favorite. These are an odd navy color for some reason, they don’t match any costume he has planned for the upcoming competition season, and they’re a bit too soft around the ankle for him to feel comfortable doing even the most basic jump. He won’t wear them, but he could hang them on the wall next to the other fail-pairs he’s gotten from his father over the years.
He looks over at the wall, where four pairs of unsightly skates hang from hooks by their laces. It's like an art exhibit of sorts. Concrete proof that he’s still a foreign concept to Toji.
Megumi expects the phone to ring exactly when it does. He picks it up from its designated spot, face-down on the bed, and sighs lightly before bringing it to his ear.
“Hey.”
Toji stammers for just a moment, almost like he wasn’t expecting an answer at all. Considering that this is the first time he’s heard Megumi’s voice in three months, he probably wasn’t.
“Jesus, kid, I thought I was gonna have to ask Naomi t’bring you the phone.”
He says it through a laugh, but it’s forced– there isn’t really a punchline there. Megumi doesn’t return it.
“I’ve been busy with school. And training.” Megumi explains, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. Something about talking to his dad makes his body start to hurt, like someone tied a weight around his neck and made him wear it all day. Nevermind the fact that they’ve only been on the phone for about fifty seconds. Megumi opts to lay on his back, putting his phone on speaker so he can put it beside his head.
“You understand, right? Being busy?” Megumi asks when he doesn’t get a response right away. He’s being petty now, not that he feels any real shame about it.
Megumi can feel Toji’s wince on the other end, or maybe he's imagining it. Maybe it would just make him feel better to successfully wound his father in any way.
Toji’s cool and collected response only serves to make him more irritated.
“Yeah, man. I understand. Don’t worry.”
He wants to say you don’t understand, but he can’t bring himself to initiate a confrontation today. It’s his birthday, after all. Naomi likes to say even Jesus rested.
“Did you get your gift?” Toji wonders, steering the conversation another way. Megumi can hear movement in the background, the hum of a machine and thick gusts of wind. He’s driving somewhere.
“Yeah, thanks.” Megumi clips.
His father sighs in response. “They’re shit, aren’t they? The fuckin’ skates.”
Toji spits, maybe into a cup or out of the car window. Megumi is nodding even though no one can see him, trying to choose his words carefully.
“They’re… nice for beginners, maybe. He upsold you on the ‘support’ thing.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling. Sorry, megs.”
Megumi’s eyes start to sting, like his brain trying to remember how to cry. There are no tears to wipe, but he rubs at his eyes in a fluster anyway, an attempt to alleviate the discomfort.
“It’s not a big deal,” he replies, neutral as ever. “I already have a lot of skates.”
“Right.” Toji says.
He’s running out of steam, they both are. They can both feel it.
Megumi opens his mouth to allow for an excuse to hang up, but in true absent father fashion, Toji is one step ahead.
“Listen,” he always starts right before the drop, “I have to go, okay? I’ll call you soon. Pick your damn phone up, alright?”
He sounds a little fervent, a surprising tone to take with Megumi considering the situation they're in in. Considering why they’re in this position to begin with.
Megumi can’t help but to roll his eyes, finger already halfway-pressing the red button. “Yeah, I will. Bye.”
The knob on his bedroom door is slowly turning once the call drops, the door swinging open to reveal Naomi and her daughters. His only real family is the one that exists inside the walls of this house– Maki, Mai, Naomi.
They had to have been listening behind the door. It’s the only explanation for the contrast of their sympathetic gazes with their enthusiastic cries of happy birthday!
Megumi sits up and puts his package down on the floor so they can all sit on his bed with him– Mai and Maki on both sides of him, their mother sitting at the edge. He leans into Mai’s hug, his soft smile mirroring that of the women surrounding him. “Thank you guys.”
“It wasn’t… the worst conversation you’ve had with him.” Mai offers playfully. She knows that the best way to handle the Toji dilemma is to laugh about it. It’s worked for Megumi thus far and it works now, earning them a chuckle from him.
Maki is harder on Toji than Mai is, always. She recoils at the sight of the box on the floor, looks a little disgusted even. “He got you skates, again?”
“He’s trying the only way he knows how.” Naomi sighs, shoots Maki a look that Megumi has learned means shut up.
“Mom, come on.” Maki rolls her eyes, nudges Megumi’s shoulder with her own. “You don’t even believe that.”
“Megumi, we made you breakfast!” Mai interrupts gleefully, always willing to be the neutralizer. “Your favorite, too, steamed fish and everything! I made the miso soup myself.”
Megumi laughs at Maki’s quick response, "the miso was literally the easiest part to make", but his stomach starts to awaken at the mention of breakfast. Naomi and Mai are the first to get up so they can go downstairs and plate the food, Maki choosing to linger behind and escort Megumi out of bed.
On their way out of Megumi’s room, she stops him, searching his face for any signs of unhappiness like she always does. It’s become a real habit ever since they were younger, since the first time she learned that he’s not always honest when she asks–
“You alright?”
Megumi pauses. “It’s not even just that they’re skates,” he admits, “They’re fucking navy.”
Maki’s body relaxes, pleased that she won’t have to squeeze it out of him. She’s happy to meet his venting in the middle.
“That should be a crime,” she complains empathetically. “You’re wearing so much black this season. What the hell are you gonna do with navy skates?”
Megumi shakes his head. He lets the question hang in the air between them as they head down to join the breakfast table. Thinks to himself, exactly my point.