[ yuuji's concession releases some more of the tension in megumi's shoulders. the missing blanks that they have to fill about this place is something that they can tackle together (or, well, as 'together' as megumi will ever allow); as long as megumi can convince his classmate to match metaphorical strides with him, the rest will be slightly easier to handle.

he watches yuuji read. knows which parts of the memo will be a point of concern, but doesn't speak until his classmate feels the need to raise his own opinions.

and, in a way, it's a bit surreal. four weeks away from the familiarity of tokyo and their school and the usual suspects— a part of him still can't believe that that strawberry-brown hair is bobbing just within reaching distance. focused on the cadence of yuuji's breathing, the warmth he radiates like a gentle furnace, megumi almost misses the question altogether.

it probably says too much about him, that he doesn't bat an eye at it. if anything, mild confusion dances at the edge of his quiet neutral: "why would you even ask?" ]

No, I haven't.

[ and he wouldn't say, even if he had. still, he's not lying; everything about megumi is, well. megumi. in one piece, annoyingly put-together. ]

And you won't, either, if you know what's good for you. [ there it is, the quintessential 「ちょっと偉そう」. a quiet exhale, verging on a sigh. ] Try not to set any more stupid records.

[ like, you know, eating a cursed object within minutes of seeing it................ ]