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Megumi hesitantly knocks on the door. He likes visiting Itadori’s room late at night, both because he knows Itadori needs his space sometimes (considering he’s literally never alone anymore), but also because he likes being able to have Itadori’s full attention.
It doesn’t matter that the circles under Itadori’s eyes are prominent and heavy, nearing the same level of concerning as Shoko’s, and it doesn’t matter that as Itadori stares at Megumi’s stoic expression, there is a clear hesitance to let him inside.
But just like every other time, Itadori relents, pushing the door aside and allowing Megumi to enter his space.
With the moon pouring in Itadori’s room, there is no need for lights, so Megumi just heads to the middle of the room and takes a seat, crossing his legs and staring at Itadori as he sits on the edge of his bed facing Megumi.
The silence stretching between them is thick and heavy, but nothing compared to the tension often between them after a heated battle, or after days like today where words couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what they just experienced.
“Rough day, huh?” Megumi mumbles, never really sure of how to initiate these kinds of conversations.
At least it gets Itadori to smile.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“Do you, um…” Megumi’s sentence trails off as he breaks Itadori’s soft, chestnut stare, finding a corner of the room to hold his attention instead.
“If you don’t mind.”
As Megumi looks over, he sees the hint of a flush on Itadori’s cheeks, just a shade or two lighter than his hair.
Of course he didn’t mind. He never would, if it’s Itadori who is asking. Though he has no idea where to even begin to process that line of thinking.
He clasps his hands together, easy with the sheer number of times he’s repeated the motion, and summons his divine dog. In quick succession, he changes the position of his hands, summoning rabbit escape, though not so many as to overwhelm the small dorm room.
(He learned his lesson last time.)
His shikigami appear from the deep shadows casting along the edges of Itadori’s room. The moment they fully form, Itadori smiles—a real, genuine one this time that spans across his face.
Megumi immediately has the feeling his visit has been worth it.
“Come here, buddy,” Itadori coos to the shikigami, sliding off the bed and joining Megumi on the floor.
They’re close enough their knees almost touch, and Megumi is tempted to shift his position, just slightly, so it can happen. But, just like every other time, he holds back.
Itadori is the one who needs this. Not him.
His shikigami don’t mind doing this for Itadori either. If he ventured to guess, he would say they probably enjoy the downtime and extra attention—the ability to be used to soothe and heal rather than fight and destroy.
Megumi watches with rapt attention as Yuuji’s fingers card through totality’s hair, using long, languid strokes that span the massive length of his back. A small part of Megumi’s mind wishes it was his own hair, the same midnight-black color, that Itadori’s fingers were caressing.
The rabbits swarm around Itadori, nuzzling against his legs and several hopping up into his lap. Itadori is sure to give them attention too, scritching between their ears, booping their noses, and getting that little spot below their chin that makes their legs thump against the floor.
He’s not sure how long it lasts, but Megumi doesn’t mind. He would stay all night if he needed to, though he must admit that his intentions wouldn’t be entirely pure.
As time passes he can see the heavy weight of the day fall from Itadori’s shoulders, or at least providing him temporary relief from the burden he carries.
Megumi isn’t expecting it when Itadori’s hand slides on top of his, so he jerks away, immediately regretting his impulse.
“Sorry,” Itadori whispers. They don’t need to, considering there is no one else to hear, no one to bother as it is just the two of them in this section of the dorm, but he whispers anyway, figuring it fits the mood. “I was calling your name. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” Megumi says, putting his hands in his lap and clearing his throat. Itadori’s eyes are fixed on him, boring holes as blood rushes to Megumi’s face and ears. He has a love-hate relationship with the way Itadori can make him feel so vulnerable—so exposed and so seen in a way nobody has done before. “Did you need something?”
“Oh,” Itadori’s mouth stays in position in a little ‘o’ shape. Megumi wonders what it would be like to press his lips against it. “I just wanted to thank you. You don’t have to do this, and I know it’s a pain—”
“It’s not,” Megumi snaps, cutting him off. “It’s not a pain, I mean. I don’t mind.”
Itadori gives him a soft smile. Megumi can feel the magnetism drawing them closer, or maybe it's something he’s just imagining. Something he wants so desperately—and embarrassingly—that the millimeters of distance that have closed between them feels like miles.
He feels the words on the tip of his tongue.
That he would do anything for Itadori. That he would fight Sukuna himself, or Gojou, or even both if it meant Itadori could stay here, with him, forever. That he might, for the first time in his life, lo—
He stands up suddenly, almost stumbling with the force of it. His shikigami shift and dissolve back into their natural, muddied state.
He can’t say it. Not yet. Not tonight. Not this time.
“Fushiguro?” Itadori stands, cautiously.
“It’s, uh, getting late. I should go.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Itadori says, unable to hide what might be disappointment in his voice. “Thanks again.”
Megumi turns to leave, but stops just short of turning into the hall. He looks back, his chest aching as Itadori returns to his bed, bringing his knees to his chest and thumping his head against the wall. He slowly lolls his head to the side, noticing Megumi in the doorway. “Need something?”
He needs plenty. But whether he’s able to ask for it is a completely different story. Too many muddled emotions and thoughts swirl in Megumi’s mind, none of them coherent enough to grab and verbalize. Instead, he quirks the corner of his mouth into a half-smile.
“I’ll always be here,” he says softly, “if you need me. Just let me know.”
“I will,” Itadori replied. Resolute. Trusting.
Megumi gives him a quick nod before finally leaving him to his own devices. As soon as Megumi entered his own room, he slid the door shut behind him, pressing his back to the old wood and sliding down to the floor, his legs giving out.
He buries his head in his hands.
He’ll tell him next time.
Next time, for sure.