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In the shadows, it’s so easy to get unmoored. Reality goes soft, malleable to Megumi’s power. Whatever the opposite of touch is, that’s the sensation prickling along his skin—like everything is pulling away from him all at once.
He has to fight not to get lost. To set a target and pull himself toward it, the zing of his cursed energy shocking away the dull edge. With enough practice, he’s able to cruise parallel to the world outside the shadows, listening to the muffled noise of Hakari’s men cycling through the motions of a security apparatus he’s about to make embarrassingly irrelevant.
At least, that’s the plan. But in practice, Megumi’s finding it a little harder than expected to track his targets—not because he’s having any difficulty following them, but because his thoughts keep straying back to the ready room where Yuuji awaits his fight.
It was already difficult to let him out of his sight before Shibuya. Megumi watched Yuuji die with a smile on his face, helped carry his body, then saw him pop out of a box like it was nothing, and every moment after, he’s felt like the magic trick is two seconds away from unraveling. Like he’s going to blink and lose him all over again.
Then, Shibuya.
Blink, and Nanami’s gone. Blink, and Kugisaki’s downed. Blink, and suddenly the only hope they have of standing up to Kenjaku’s been sealed away. Megumi’s felt their absence, felt it smother him the same way the darkness does.
He forces his thoughts to still, a strange flush of shame warring with the shadows’ lack. He’s alone in the dark, but he’s not alone. He shouldn’t need to see his friends to prove it.
But it’s not just any friend—it’s Yuuji . Yuuji, who’s slipped away from him once before. Yuuji, who’s once again recklessly throwing himself into danger while Megumi retreats to the shadows. Yuuji, whose last words to him were a farce for the guy they scammed into letting him into the ring.
Damn his reckless heart. Minutes ago he was acting stone cold, barely flinching at a fist in his face, but now Megumi’s checking the clocks, eying the security cameras, and letting the most dangerous thought he’s had all day take shape.
Yeah, I’ve got time .
He moves, and at least this part comes with confidence. He slips easily from shadow to shadow, winding a liquid path to the ready room. Yuuji’s perched on the edge of his seat, his heels bouncing to some unheard rhythm as he stares at his knuckles. His lips are moving, but there’s no throat behind the words, just a whisper of air so faint that it takes Megumi an extra minute to realize he’s singing to himself—some pop song Megumi’s definitely heard before but never bothered to internalize. He wonders if this is a ritual for Yuuji, a quirk he’s never noticed before. Maybe it’d be better not to break the spell.
But he’s come this far, so before he can second guess himself, he slips out of the shadows’ cradle, leaning in over Yuuji’s shoulder.
He’d meant to grab his attention gently. They don’t need a sudden scream to bring Hakari’s guards crashing into the room. But Megumi’s miscalculated his approach—or maybe Yuuji’s awareness, because just as he’s easing half-out of the darkness to catch Yuuji’s shoulder, Yuuji abruptly turns to meet him.
Megumi’s cursed energy goes slippery, his balance stutters, and before he can stop himself, his mouth collides with Yuuji’s.
There’s a moment where he could reel back and stammer an excuse, an apology, something . But Megumi’s frozen in the shock of the transition from that vague, unfeeling darkness, the instant of contact between them so achingly real that he can’t bring himself to pull away. The most he can manage is to freeze in place, his cursed energy finally catching up to his brain.
And because he’s frozen in place, he feels the exact moment it happens. The moment Yuuji could push him away but doesn’t. The moment he leans in for more like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
It swallows him, demanding his presence so insistently that he dislodges from the shadows, landing on unsteady feet as Yuuji’s hand darts up to cradle his jaw, tilt his head, guide him into a kiss that’s rapidly becoming anything but an accident. He can’t think fast enough for everything that’s happening—can barely find the willpower to keep his eyes open. He knows for sure if he lets them slip closed, he’s never going to be able to pull himself away.
And he desperately needs to pull himself away, because even if tattoos aren’t splaying across the face in front of him, Megumi can’t ever let himself forget what lurks beneath this boy’s skin. He’s watched Sukuna quite literally tear Yuuji’s heart out. He’s been waging an all-out war to protect his own. His feelings for Yuuji have gone from an irritating distraction to an undeniable reality, and the only thing he could do to save himself was play cool and hope no one noticed.
So much for that.
He catches Yuuji by the collar of his shirt and tugs an agonizing inch of space between them. With the kiss broken, Megumi finds himself fighting the impulse to let the shadows drag him back into their empty maw and pretend this never happened, but the moment Yuuji’s eyes lock on his, he knows there’s no way out but through a conversation they absolutely do not have time for. “I…” he starts. “I didn’t really mean to—”
“It’s okay,” Yuuji says, his fingers slipping from Megumi’s jawline to one of the slits scarred underneath his own eyes. He pries at it so boldly that Megumi almost flinches. “He’s… quiet.” Yuuji seems surprised. Megumi’s never been completely clear on what conditions allow Sukuna to take over, but he feels like he’s just dodged a bullet.
Which only means now he has to reckon with the look Yuuji’s giving him, the one that knows just how badly that could have gone. Yuuji may be abnormally strong, but Sukuna is the king of curses. One way or another, he’ll claw his way to the surface, and he’s made it clear he has intentions for Megumi that run a little counter to Megumi’s desire to pin Yuuji in a dark corner until he gets sick of the taste of him. The kiss was a happy mistake, but it’s better for both of them if it’s only a memory now.
When Yuuji ran after Shibuya, Megumi filled in the blanks. It’s another thing entirely to see him pull away, tucking that hand that cradled his face carefully back down at his side. Another thing entirely to look Yuuji in the eyes and let him see plainly how much Megumi wants to touch him and mean it.
“Why’d you come back?” Yuuji asks.
Megumi’s breath catches on the answer. To make sure you’re okay sounds like he doesn’t trust Yuuji with the plan. To do that is just an outright lie, no matter how romantic it sounds.
“Because I wanted to,” he replies, steadying himself against the freefall sensation of telling too much truth. Megumi’s never been one to indulge his wants. He’s stitched himself together from necessities, telling himself the greater good outweighs a hundred small denials. But with the culling game looming, with Yuuji about to throw himself out in the ring, with Kenjaku’s endgame cinching tighter and tighter around them, Megumi’s beginning to accept that it’s less about indulging his own selfishness, more about seizing whatever opportunities he can.
That thought solidifies into the force that lifts his hand and lays it softly against Yuuji’s cheek. There’s a moment where they both freeze in place, waiting for an ancient curse’s wrath to ignite—then an even more terrifying pause when it doesn’t and they have to decide what to do with that. Megumi would be content to savor just this, just the feeling of Yuuji warm and alive beneath his fingers, but why settle?
He pulls ever so slightly, and Yuuji lunges to close the distance.
It’s just as fumbling and haphazard as the first time, but it’s more than that too. Megumi feels like he might light up, like every inch of him is glowing with the knowledge that this is real . Yuuji’s muscled arms snared around his torso, Yuuji’s mouth hot and insistent against his own, Yuuji knowing all the risks and choosing him anyway. Megumi’s half certain that buoyed by this joy alone, he could kick Sukuna’s ass with a hand tied behind his back.
A knock on the door jolts them apart, and a gruff voice calls, “Two minutes to showtime.”
Yuuji’s eyes lock on his, and Megumi wishes he could bottle the reckless glee he sees there. There’s far too much at stake for them to push their luck, but Megumi reels him in anyway for one more soft, sweet kiss.
“You’d better win now,” he murmurs when he pulls back.
Yuuji grins.
Not even the shadows can wipe away the warmth on his lips, and Megumi can’t help a soft smile as he slips back into their depths.