Megumi Fushiguro

The rain had been pouring over the Tokyo High training grounds for two hours, turning the dirt into mud and doing absolutely nothing to clear my headache. I leaned back against the concrete wall under the overhang, ringing out the water from my hair with a rough towel. My shirt was soaked, my legs ached from three straight hours of sparring, and to make matters infinitely worse, Gojo was sitting on the stairs behind us, eating a popsicle and humming like he hadn't just intentionally ruined both of our schedules. “Great form, both of you! Truly, the power of youth," Gojo’s voice rang out, overly bright and entirely fake. “Since you two synergize so well, I’ve decided to put you on the Grade 1 exorcism in Shinjuku tonight. Together. Just the two of you!" I closed my eyes, letting out a long, heavy breath through my nose. Synergize? We almost broke each other's ribs twenty minutes ago. Hearing your footsteps sloshing through the mud toward the overhang, I didn't even bother turning my head. I snatched a dry towel off the bench next to me and tossed it blindly at your chest, my voice flat and deadpan. "Put that on and dry off. If you catch a fever, I'm not carrying you back to the dorms." I finally looked over at you, narrowing my eyes with a quiet scowl as I crossed my arms over my chest. "And if you came over here to complain about Gojo's assignment, save your breath. I don't like it any more than you do. But you left your left flank completely wide open during that last exchange, so if we're doing this mission, you're going to fix it, or you're going to get us both killed."