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There’s something to be said about experiencing a traumatic experience with someone else – it brings you together.
The thing is – and Yuuji doesn’t think anyone else would understand – most people go through one or two traumatic experiences in their lives and that’s it. It shapes them forever, but, if they are lucky, they can get help and start to heal. Life will never be the same, but at least whatever happened will be in the past.
He is not most people, though.
Sometimes, when Yuuji is in his low moments, he makes a list of all the things he has already been through: losing his only family member, eating a cursed object so he could save his friends from death, becoming the vessel of the king of the curses, being marked for execution, dying, killing, losing a friend, seeing his mentor die in front of him, watching Sukuna kill hundreds of people, dying again, being part of a game where the biggest rule was to kill others. It’s a long list for a teenage boy.
And through all that only one thing remained constant in his life: Fushiguro Megumi.
Megumi fought for him, Megumi asked for him not to be killed, Megumi helped him, Megumi yelled at him for being reckless, Megumi held his hand when he was scared and Megumi was by his side when he wanted to give up. No one has done more for Yuuji than the boy he met at the lowest point of his life and Yuuji believes no one else will.
So, when all these things happen the way they do, what can Yuuji do but to stay by his side?
—
Seeing Megumi smile is like looking at the sun after days of rain.
Yuuji doesn’t understand it at first, how can his heart beat so fast at something so simple? It’s not even an important moment, not in the grand scheme of things, but Yuuji feels as if time stops. The three of them are watching some comedy show, Nobara with her head over Yuuji’s shoulder, shoving popcorn down her mouth and spreading salt all over the hoodie she stole from Megumi. Yuuji has an arm over her shoulder and tries to eat popcorn with the other while Megumi sits on the other end of the couch, quiet as always.
There’s a joke and Nobara laughs so hard she coughs and popcorn flies everywhere. Yuuji rushes to help and the two of them end up fighting. Once they go back to a resemblance of calm there’s a new episode on the screen and Megumi is watching them with a smile on his lips.
Nobara doesn’t notice it, but Yuuji does. He notices the way Megumi’s lips curve slightly, the way his cheeks look redish and how he tries to hide the fond way he looks at them. It’s always like this with him, Megumi keeps his feelings locked away, but in that moment Yuuji feels like he finally found the key.
He looks at Megumi over Nobara’s head and smiles, open and bright. It always came easy to Yuuji, the act of smiling. Even now, with a curse inside his body, he still smiles as if life is beautiful – because sometimes it really is. Megumi’s eyes widen a bit and his cheeks turn even redder, embarrassed at getting caught. He looks away for a moment, but when he tries another look at Yuuji he seems more relaxed.
It’s okay, Yuuji wants to tell him, you can trust me with your feelings, I’ll take good care of them.
“You two are so disgusting,” Nobara says, her voice making them both look away. “Get a room and let me watch TV in peace.”
Yuuji pushes her softly and she falls over Megumi. He doesn’t push her away, another sign of how much he likes her, them. They look at each other again and Yuuji smiles, feeling warm inside. He’s never liked anyone the way he likes Megumi, and there, sitting on an old couch and watching Nobara trying to pretend she didn’t stain Megumi’s hoodie, he knows he never will.
—
“So,” Megumi starts, voice low. “Jennifer Lawrence, really?”
“Yeah, I mean,” Yuuji doesn’t look at him. He’s playing a new game on his phone and honestly, he sucks at it, but it’s fun and that’s all he wants after coming back from the dead. “Tall girls are super sexy, don’t you think?”
“Uh,” Megumi says.
The only sound in his bedroom is the game on his phone. Yuuji dies again and turns to him. “Do you prefer short girls?”
Megumi has a strange expression, almost like he just realized he drank expired milk. He shifts where he’s sitting on Yuuji’s bed, looking down at his lap. “I don’t like girls,” he whispers.
Yuuji goes back to his game. “Ah,” he says. “So what about tall guys?”
“What?”
“You don’t like guys either?” He asks, pressing his screen. “That’s cool if you don’t.”
“That’s not– I mean– I do like guys.”
Yuuji glances at him while his screen loads. “So, what about Todo? Do you like him? He seems cool. I bet he could bench press you.”
Megumi now looks like he’s about to have a stroke and Yuuji is ready to exit his game and call for an ambulance. He keeps glancing at Megumi from the corner of his eye, but all Megumi does is open and close his mouth. It’s quite funny, the always so well spoken Fushiguro Megumi unable to come up with a reply. Not that Yuuji thinks he likes Todo, but it’s fun to tease him – and if anyone asks he’ll just say that’s Nobara’s influence.
“I don’t like Todo,” Megumi answers at last. “And I don’t like you trying to fuck with me, Itadori.”
Yuuji laughs. “Took you long enough to realize,” he’s not exactly paying attention to his game now because there’s an idea in his mind, a very dangerous one, but Yuuji has never been known as a cautious person. “So, what type of guys do you like?” He asks, trying to stay cool.
“I don’t have a type,” Megumi seems calmer now. “They just need a sense of humanity.”
Yuuji dies in his game again and it makes him remember when he died in real life. He pauses it. “I like guys with black hair,” he says, looking at Megumi.
Megumi looks up at him, eyes wide. “What?” He asks. “Didn’t you just say you like tall girls?”
“Yeah, I like tall girls and guys with black hair,” Yuuji shrugs. “You can like both, you know.”
“Of course I knew that, moron,” Megumi looks down again, fidgeting. “I just didn’t know you did.”
“Now you do,” Yuuji says and smiles.
It’s the moment when things shift between them. Megumi looks at him as if he’s a strong curse – which, in some sense, he is –, staying still. Yuuji doesn’t move either, trying his best to look calm. He never did this, being this open – because it’s obvious, right? It has to be – about liking someone. He kept to himself in school and when the other boys asked he said any random girl name without a thought.
But now here it is, his feelings laid out in between them. Megumi gets up just so he can sit closer to Yuuji. He’s so pretty, Yuuji wants to tell him, with his dark hair and eyes and pale skin and serious expression.
“Black hair, huh?” Megumi asks, and now they are closer than they have ever been. Yuuji can only nod, entranced, and when Megumi smirks, leaning forward, he feels warmer than ever before.
Megumi kisses him softly at first, a press of their lips that is enough to make Yuuji tremble. He wonders if Megumi has ever kissed anyone before, but all thoughts vanish from his mind when Megumi kisses him again, now with tongue and sharp teeth. It’s not graceful nor is it that good, but Yuuji doesn’t care. He places his hand on Megumi’s cheek, caresses the hair on the back of his neck and deepens the kiss even more.
They kiss until they are breathless and then kiss some more. Megumi fists the front of Yuuji’s shirt and Yuuji grips his hair. Their teeth knock sometimes and Megumi bites his bottom lip and when they pull apart Yuuji tastes blood on the tip of his tongue. Something inside him changes, something that has nothing to do with Sukuna, but seems just as wicked, because tasting copper only makes Yuuji want more.
He kisses Megumi again and it’s dangerous because something in his mind tells Yuuji that maybe blood is not that bad, not if it comes from Megumi, not if it comes laced with love.
—
The confession comes in a whisper:
“I have trouble sleeping, sometimes,” Megumi says. He doesn’t look at Yuuji. Instead, he looks at the sky.
It’s night, they have no company but the stars. Nobara took one look at them, frowned and said something about not wanting to interrupt a date, but it’s not like that. Or, well, it wasn’t supposed to be. The three of them still spend a lot of time together, but she, in girl fashion, knows when to leave them alone and when to impose her presence.
Now here they are, lying in the training grounds side by side. Megumi looks pretty under the moonlight and from time to time Yuuji kisses him – his lips, cheeks and forehead, small pecks that make Megumi blush.
“Do you?” Megumi asks him, voice still soft.
“Nah,” Yuuji is looking at the sky too. They can see the stars better in the school than in the city. “I can sleep literally anywhere after literally anything.”
“Of course you can, there’s nothing inside your head.”
Yuuji doesn’t need to look at Megumi to know he’s smiling. His tone is fond in a way it isn’t with anyone else. He hasn't changed much ever since they first kissed, but sometimes he shows more of himself. Little by little Megumi peels off the layers of mistrust he built around himself and lets Yuuji in. It makes him feel special, to know that no one else gets to see Megumi like this.
He rolls to his side, rests his elbow on the grass and his face on his palm so he can look at Megumi. “Sleep with me then.”
Megumi blushes. “Hey–”
“Not like that, Fushiguro!” Yuuji is blushing too, though the idea isn’t unappealing. They’ll get there, eventually, maybe. “I mean, sleep in my room. In my bed. I’ll keep moving around and you’ll get so tired you’ll just fall asleep.”
“Or your snoring will keep me up all night,” Megumi says, smirking.
Yuuji likes when he acts like this, teasing in his own way. So instead of denying – his grandfather always told him he snores too loudly – he leans forward and kisses Megumi. Just like everything between them kissing is easy now too, they’ve adapted to each other’s bodies and movements. Soon Megumi is on top of him and Yuuji is hugging him by his waist, keeping him close.
When they stop kissing Megumi leans against his chest, almost weightless, and says: “Fine, I’ll sleep with you, Itadori.”
Yuuji kisses the top of his head and smiles.
—
The warning comes from his mind:
Be careful of the Fushiguro kid, brat.
Sukuna’s voice always makes Yuuji tremble. It’s something so powerful, so strong and so tinged of evil Yuuji has trouble believing it’s contained inside of himself. The curse stays quiet most of the time, maybe dormant, maybe only watching passively, but when he speaks Yuuji can’t do anything but to listen. Such are the words of a king: few, but impactful.
Oi, shut up! Yuuji thinks. What do you even mean now?
There’s not silence in his mind, but a hum, a static that means Sukuna isn’t done. He comes and goes like a cat, but when he is there he takes his time. He laughs and it sounds like thunder inside Yuuji’s chest.
Don’t worry, brat. You will see.
Yuuji wants to disappear into Sukuna’s domain, climb that damn throne and ask what he means, but he knows there’s no point in it. Their interactions are always brief and they happen under Sukuna’s rules. Yuuji may be the one with the body, but even he is not stupid enough to believe he has any control over their situation. All he can do is brush Sukuna’s words away, see them as nothing but a taunt and move on. And Yuuji is getting really, really good at it.
—
Yuuji is used to turning a small room into his whole world.
First, it was his grandfather’s hospital room. Yuuji would leave school and rush there, pull a chair closer to his bed and watch him sleep, hoping for his release. He would open his notebook and try to do his homework, but always get distracted as he looked outside of the window, at the blue sky of the summer that passed by as his grandfather slowly withered away on the bed. He used to dream of a world where his grandfather wasn’t sick, where they could live happily.
Then, it was the room where Gojo locked him up. Do you want to live? Gojo had asked him and for a brief moment Yuuji didn’t know what to answer. His grandfather had died, he was alone in the world. Maybe answering it with a Nah man, go ahead and end this already wouldn’t have been so bad. But his grandfather had told him to help people and die surrounded by friends, not tied to a chair in front of a weird, tall man, so Yuuji said he wanted to live.
Then again, the room where he watched movies, thinking about Megumi and Nobara. They must be disappointed in me, Yuuji thought as he looked at the screen, trying his best to control his cursed energy. Still, he almost felt safe there, just him and the TV. He had a taste of what life as a sorcerer was and now he knew things would not get better. It would be easy to give up, but Megumi had fought for him, and Nobara would be sad if he died, and he wanted to see them again, so he didn’t give up.
If Yuuji thinks about it, he almost feels like Sukuna: powerful, but always contained.
Now, it’s not so bad. Because in his small dorm room Yuuji can build himself a world where he’s just a boy. He can lock himself there, close his eyes and pretend things are alright. But mostly, he can open the door and invite Megumi in and Megumi will kiss all his worries away in a way only he can.
Megumi sits on his bed, a book in his hands, as Yuuji paces from side to side. He’s like this sometimes, too much energy, too much to say, to think. And Megumi is the opposite, always so calm, so quiet. He watches Yuuji and Yuuji lets himself be watched and heard, because he knows he’ll never be judged.
He stops in front of the wall where his Jennifer Lawrence poster used to be – it’s actually a Hunger Games poster and she’s not as beautiful as a brunette as she’s as a blond, but Yuuji liked her all the same. Yet, one day he arrived in his room and the poster was no longer there and Nobara swore she wasn’t the one who took it, “Why the fuck would I?” she had asked, and she sort of had a point – and turns to Megumi.
“And then Nanamin said something about work and how to properly invest money, but I told him that I never save a single cent of the money we’re given and he looked at me weirdly, but it was so funny because his glasses moved and–”
“You talk a lot about Nanami-san,” Megumi interrupts. He marks the page he’s reading and places the book over his lap, looking at Yuuji.
“Ah, well,” Yuuji brushes his hand on the back of his neck, looking down. “He’s so cool! I have never met an adult so cool like him!” Then, as if realizing his mistake he blinks fast. “I mean, Gojo-sensei is cool too!”
Megumi continues looking at him, pensive. Sometimes, when he gets like this, Yuuji wishes he was smarter. Megumi thinks in a way he can’t keep up and when he locks himself in his own mind Yuuji feels lost and lonely.
“He’s fucking Gojo-sensei, you know?” Megumi asks, voice cold. Yuuji feels his cheeks getting warmer, he’s not used to Megumi being so blunt. “They’ve been on and off all these years.”
He guesses that Megumi must be telling the truth, no one knows Gojo like him. Still, Yuuji doesn’t see why that’s any of his business. He tries not to imagine the always so serious Nanami kissing and hugging Gojo, or how soft his lips would be (he looks like the type of man who takes care of himself, does skincare and everything), or how he must look naked (Yuuji thinks he must look good, he seems in good shape), or how he would sound when–
Yuuji blinks and Megumi is still staring at him. He feels his entire face warm now, as if Megumi caught him doing something wrong. “Ah,” he says for a lack of something else to add.
“Do you like him?” Megumi asks. It’s not like when he asked about Yuuji’s type, there’s no coyness in his voice. Instead, it almost feels like he’s talking to a curse, all serious and cold.
“What?!” Yuuji croaks. “Of course not! I just think he’s cool! I mean, he’s tall and handsome–” he looks at Megumi, who cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, daring him to continue. “But he’s old, and totally not my type!”
Megumi puts his book away and gets up, walking over to Yuuji. He takes a step forward, Yuuji takes a step back until Megumi has him crowded against his desk. They are roughly the same height, but Megumi feels ten times bigger, with his dark eyes staring at Yuuji with an intensity Yuuji has never seen before. It should be scary because Megumi is a strong person, but when Yuuji feels himself shiver he knows it’s not fear he’s feeling.
“I know,” Megumi whispers. He’s so close Yuuji can see his lashes, how long and beautiful they are. “I’m just saying it because Gojo-sensei doesn’t like sharing,” his hands go from the desk to Yuuji’s hips, holding him in place with strength Yuuji didn’t know he had. “And neither do I.”
It’s not a question, but Yuuji nods all the same. He places his hands on the sides of Megumi’s neck and kisses him. Megumi, as he always does, gives in easily and allows Yuuji to control the kiss and press their bodies closer, hands moving to Megumi’s shoulders, clawing his uniform.
When they pull away Megumi still stares at him, but it’s different now, subdued somehow. He brushes a hand through Yuuji’s hair before trailing down his cheek, jaw, chest and stopping at the waistband of his pants. Yuuji stops breathing when Megumi kisses him again and asks “Do you want to have sex?”
Yuuji’s eyes widen and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something, but his brain is filled with static. “I, uh–”
“It’s a yes or no question, Itadori,” Megumi says, almost flippant. It’s a good look on him and Yuuji is unable to look away, even when Megumi touches him over his pants. “I’d say this is a yes, but I want to hear you say it.”
“Fuck, yeah, I do,” Yuuji answers, a little embarrassed and very turned on. He kisses Megumi again to distract himself and hides his face on the crook of his neck so he can say: “But I never did it before.”
“Me neither,” Megumi confesses. “But it won’t be so bad if we do it together, I think.”
Yuuji smiles against his skin and nods, happy. Still, something in his brain feels different, like an echo of a voice – maybe it’s Sukuna, but he doubts the curse cares about it – trying to tell him something. Megumi gently pushes him away so they can look at each other and he’s almost smiling, whatever intense feelings in his eyes are now gone, replaced but something that looks a lot like fondness (or something else). He’s right, Yuuji thinks, nothing will be so bad if they do it together.
—
Yuuji wakes up with fingers trailing up and down his spine. The touch is soft, but he still shivers. It’s always like this when Megumi touches him, it makes him shiver and ache and yearn for more. It never feels enough now: if they kiss once Yuuji wants another and if Megumi bites his neck Yuuji wants him to do it harder and if Megumi touches him under his uniform he wants to tear their clothes off.
Megumi kisses from the base of his spine to the back of his neck and Yuuji turns around so they kiss on the lips. It’s deep in the night, as it always is when Megumi wakes him up like this, but he doesn’t mind. They kiss and the only sound is the sheets rustling around them as they move, Megumi pulling him close until they are chest to chest and Yuuji can hear his heartbeat.
Sometimes Megumi presses his ear against Yuuji’s chest and hears his heart – it seems to work as a lullaby, a way to make Megumi sleep even if for a few hours. There’s no scar from when Sukuna ripped his chest open and threw his heart away, but Yuuji can still feel a phantom pain, a faded memory of that moment. Megumi’s hair prickles his skin and makes him forget, even if for a moment.
“Couldn’t sleep again?” Yuuji asks when they stop kissing.
Megumi nods, hair dragging against Yuuji’s chest. He moves his head and looks up at Yuuji, one hand pressing against the mark under his eye. “You look so pretty when you sleep,” he says, voice soft in a way it only gets at night. “What do you dream about?”
Yuuji blushes as he always does when Megumi compliments him. “I don’t know,” he answers. “I don’t remember. But I’d like to think I dream of happy moments and pretty things.”
It’s best like this, to never know what he dreams about. Maybe, Yuuji thinks, his dreams are where Sukuna stays, where they meet. Whatever happens there, whatever memories he has, Yuuji doesn’t want to know. And, if he pretends hard enough, he can think he dreams of Megumi, picks a memory and dissects it until there’s not much left.
(And these days Megumi is in all of his memories. Meeting back in his old school and fighting together, coming to Tokyo, all the fights that came after that and the good moments too, Megumi was there for everything. It’s impossible for Yuuji to think of an important moment where Megumi wasn’t by his side, a comforting presence in chaos that became his life.)
He studies Yuuji, maybe reading his thoughts. He seems to have this power, sometimes, by the way he looks at Yuuji, his eyes always calculating. Megumi thrives in the darkness of the night, when it’s just the two of them and they can forget their responsibilities and take off the weight of their lives for a few hours.
“I’ll keep you company,” Yuuji whispers, pulling Megumi closer. He’s so fragile in Yuuji’s arms, it almost makes Yuuji forget Megumi is strong. Apply a bit of pressure and you might break his bones, but never his spirit.
Megumi kisses his cheek and nuzzles against his neck. “No need to,” he says. “Go back to sleep, you get cranky when you don’t.”
Yuuji chuckles, Megumi knows him so well already. He kisses the top of Megumi’s head and closes his eyes. He unwraps his arm from around Megumi’s torso in case he wants to get up to go to the bathroom or maybe reach for his phone, but Megumi pulls his arm back, making himself comfortable against Yuuji’s body. Sometimes it makes Yuuji feel a lump on his throat, how well Megumi fits with him, as if their bodies were made for each other and it was just a matter of meeting.
“Are you really just going to stay like this the whole time?” He asks, eyes already closed and voice already slurred. Yuuji has always been a faster sleeper, having a curse inside his body didn’t change it.
“I like to watch you sleep.” Megumi’s voice is soft. Yuuji could listen to it forever. “You look pretty,” he repeats.
It doesn’t lose its effect, Yuuji still feels his cheeks warm. He giggles, hand sliding up and down Megumi’s naked torso, and enjoys the shivers he feels on Megumi’s skin. “Creep,” he whispers.
“Only for you,” Megumi whispers back and Yuuji smiles.
It’s the last thing he hears before falling asleep, hopefully to dream of happy moments and pretty things.
—
They can be normal teenagers too, sometimes. When there are no missions and their classes end early they are allowed to hang out and go out together. Nobara disappears after Maki, always saying something about not wanting to spend her whole time with stupid boys, and they wave her off with smiles and chuckles.
Sometimes they meet with Inumaki and Panda, but most times it’s just the two of them left to fill time together. Megumi is too disciplined for someone who was raised by Gojo, but by now Yuuji knows that’s his personality, a person of no extremes, of control. He does his stretches and trains and reads and drags Yuuji along because they are sort of a package deal now.
But even he breaks his routine sometimes.
And on those days they go on dates in the city, walking side by side, shoulders bumping. They don’t go to the movies – Yuuji gets sick in the darkness of the room, feels like throwing up because he remembers Junpei and his own death – but they go to arcades and Yuuji wins silly prizes he gives to Megumi and Megumi pretends he doesn’t like them.
The walk back to the school, however, is always silent. It’s difficult to walk from a normal life back to whatever their reality is. The school doesn’t exactly feel safe, not after the goodwill event, but they don’t have anywhere else to go. Still, their steps turn slower and they find everything on their way distracting as if they could warp time around and never move on from their small pockets of joy.
“Hey, Fushiguro,” Yuuji calls as they walk back to the school. Megumi hums and he continues: “If you could, would you stop being a sorcerer?”
Megumi hums again. He has his hands in his pockets and Yuuji wants to reach out and hold one of them. Sometimes Megumi looks so distant, isolated in his own world. Yuuji wants to pass whatever barrier there is between them and hold him, keep him close.
“There’s still my sister,” Megumi answers at last.
“Yeah, but after you’ve helped your sister.”
“There’s no leaving, Itadori,” Megumi says. It almost sounds like he was before they got to know each other. “Look at Nanami-san. He left, but he’s back. It would be the same for me,” he shrugs. Then, he adds: “And there’s still you.”
“Me?”
Megumi stops, staring at Yuuji as if he just said something completely stupid, even for his standards. “Yeah, Itadori, you. Or did you forget you have Sukuna inside you?”
A faint sound echoes in his mind and Yuuji imagines it’s Sukuna, watching everything with the contemptuous amusement he reserves for them.
“No, of course not! But, I mean, what’s there to say about it?” Yuuji asks. He stops two or three steps ahead of Megumi, confused. “I’ll eat all the fingers and then I’ll be killed. You won’t need to stay around much longer for that.”
It’s a chilly night and the breeze makes Yuuji shiver. Or maybe it’s the way Megumi is looking at him, as if he’s considering feeding Yuuji to his dogs. He crosses the distance between them and holds Yuuji by his shoulders.
“Don’t say that,” Megumi almost yells. The streets are empty, but Yuuji still looks around, afraid someone will hear them. “You can’t die, are you listening to me?”
“Technically, I already did.”
Megumi doesn’t see any humor in his words. “I’m serious, Itadori. We’ll find a way to kill Sukuna without killing you,” he shakes Yuuji a little, fingers digging on Yuuji’s shoulders. “You have to promise me you won’t die.”
Yuuji wants to tell him about the promise he made for his grandfather – it’s a bit of a conflict, isn’t it? But Megumi looks scared and he holds onto Yuuji for dear life and Yuuji doesn’t have it in him to tell Megumi he knows things won’t work like this. He will have to die and take Sukuna with him, but it’s fine, the days he spent with Megumi will be his most treasured memories until the end.
So instead Yuuji says: “I promise.”
“I mean it, Itadori,” Megumi clings to him like the boy he is, they both are, and pulls Yuuji into a hug. “If you die I’ll kill you myself.”
Yuuji chuckles into his hair. “This doesn’t even make sense, Fushiguro.” He closes his eyes and tries to register everything about this moment, how Megumi’s body feels against his, how he smells, the soft night breeze, how Yuuji’s heart beats faster.
Yuuji doesn’t have any illusions of how his future will go, it was sealed the moment he ate that first finger, all that’s left now is borrowed time. But, when the time comes, he will remember this, how this one boy wanted him to live, and everything will be easier. This much he knows.
—
“I never asked you before,” Megumi says one night. The weather is turning cold, but the window is still open and he sits near it, moonlight turning him into something ethereal. “Does Sukuna talk to you?”
“Not really,” Yuuji answers. He’s sprawled on his bed, doing nothing but looking at Megumi. “It’s not like we’re pals or anything. Every time he talks to me it’s something cruel or stupid.”
He waits for a rebuttal inside his mind, but when it doesn’t come Yuuji takes it as Sukuna deeming the conversation beneath him – as he usually does with things of Yuuji’s daily life.
Megumi hums, resting his cheek on his palm as he looks back at Yuuji. “So he never tried to–”
“Of course not!” Yuuji interrupts right away because he knows where this is going and he doesn’t like it. “I’m just his vessel.”
Not true, Sukuna’s voice echoes in his mind, you belong to me beyond that, brat.
“Did he say something?” Megumi asks. “You stopped talking and kept staring at nothing.”
“Just called me a stupid brat for thinking I could be worthy of a king, bla bla bla,” Yuuji says, turning on his bed so he can lie on his back and stare at the ceiling instead at Megumi.
Why are you lying? Sukuna asks and his voice sounds amused. Or as amused as he can be. Because you know he’s dangerous, don’t you?
Yuuji doesn’t reply. It’s never a smart choice to try and talk back to Sukuna, so he doesn’t. Megumi is not dangerous, not to him, anyway. But what good would come out of relaying messages like this? Still, there’s a part of Yuuji, a tiny, confused part that wonders if Sukuna is telling the truth, if Yuuji belongs to him and what does it mean.
Not that he wants to. All Yuuji wants is to be free, but that is not a possibility anymore, is it?
There’s silence and then Megumi is in his line of vision. He straddles Yuuji’s body, hands besides Yuuji’s head on the mattress as they stare at each other. Megumi kisses him once, twice, three times before pulling away.
“He’s the one who’s not worthy of you,” he says then. Megumi’s words are so honest, so full of reverence that Yuuji blushes. There’s something in his eyes, something that makes Yuuji squirm under him. Megumi only smirks and kisses him again and soon they are grinding against each other and taking their clothes and Yuuji is not thinking about anything else.
There’s only one person he would want to belong to.
—
Megumi’s hair is soft under his fingertips and the smell of hot chocolate permeates his bedroom. Their mugs are forgotten by bedside, a warm blanket pulled over their bodies as they stay close. There’s a sound of rain from the playlist Megumi sometimes plays as background noise. Yuuji feels relaxed and happy, and when he looks at the calendar and notices it’s already October 30th he vaguely thinks they never talked about Halloween costumes.
“Why am I the only one making promises?” Yuuji asks into the dimness of his room. He knows Megumi is not sleeping, even though his eyes are closed. “You should promise me something in return, you know.”
Megumi hums, but doesn’t open his eyes or move from where his head is resting on Yuuji’s chest. “And what do you want me to promise?” His voice has that airy quality it gets when he’s relaxed, and Yuuji brushes his fingers through his hair, enjoying how soft it feels under his fingertips.
“Just, you know,” Yuuji says, suddenly not sure of himself. Who is he to ask anything from Megumi, anyway? The boy was there before Yuuji knew what jujutsu is, he will still be there when Yuuji is gone. “To be with me until the end.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying here, Itadori,” Megumi says. “I thought we had already settled this.”
Yuuji sighs. For someone as blunt and practical as Megumi he can be very stubborn in his delusions. “I’m serious, Fushiguro,” he says. “Be there with me in the end.”
I can’t do this without you, he wants to tell Megumi, but doesn’t.
There’s silence and Yuuji wonders if Megumi is preparing one of his lectures. He always gets moody when Yuuji talks about his future, but what can he do? There’s not much for Yuuji to do other than to wait for his own premature death, no amount of wishful thinking will change this.
Maybe, he thinks, Megumi will get tired of him and put an end to it himself. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go – and Yuuji wonders if when the time comes he can ask Megumi to be the one to do it –, Yuuji would go happily, but there’s always Sukuna. How much damage will he allow? Would he kill Megumi?
Instead of a lecture Megumi offers him a snort. “Where else would I be?” He asks, simple as that. Yuuji relaxes and smiles, kissing the top of Megumi’s head. He knows Megumi isn’t happy with that, knows he wants to say a lot about it, but he won’t because sometimes it’s too tiring.
Their lives changed that first day when they met, it only makes sense for them to be together when everything changes again, in the end.
—
Before, Yuuji used to think his life would always be defined by the moment he swallowed that first finger. Before Sukuna and After Sukuna, a turning point like no other. That was bad enough, because Yuuji knew that there was only one end goal after it: to eat all the twenty fingers and die. He had always worked well with objectives, even if it was his own death.
But that was before.
Now, as he looks at the carnage left by Sukuna, Yuuji realizes this, this is the real defying moment of his life. First, he watched Nanami die, then he watched Nobara die, or maybe not. Their faces are still in his mind, but all fade when Sukuna shows him what he has done.
Look, brat, behold my power.
His voice is cocky and proud, as if he couldn’t wait to show Yuuji what he did. Yuuji falls to his knees and pukes, horrified at the evil he allowed to happen. Weak as always – and here he hears Sukuna’s laugh in his mind, not bothering to hide himself –, unable to stop the curse.
By the time Yuuji meets Yuuta he’s long gone, not caring. Maybe, he thinks as he fights the other boy, it would be easy if I let him kill me. This boy is not like them, even Sukuna seems to respect – never fear, not him, the almighty king of curses – him. He’s powerful and strong and maybe dying by his blade wouldn’t be so bad.
And so, Yuuji dies again.
It happens fast, not unlike the first time, but Yuuji still thinks about Megumi. Wherever he is, can he feel that Yuuji died again? Would he be able to tell, maybe by some gut feeling, some change in the air, that Yuuji was unable to keep his promise?
Then, as fast as it starts it ends, but he’s still there, in Shibuya, staring at his senpai.
“Ah,” Yuuta looks shy, so different when he’s not fighting. “Sorry about that, I had to do it.”
There’s another laugh inside his mind and Yuuji realizes Sukuna knew from the beginning what was happening, clever devil that he is. He watched happily as Yuuji died and came back, maybe satisfied that he wouldn’t need to bring Yuuji back again. He’s getting restless these days, Yuuji notices, maybe too bored with his situation. As terrible as it is to think about it, Yuuji hopes that what Sukuna did in Shibuya helps to keep him at least content for a while.
“What did you do?” Yuuji asks, always the last to understand what is happening.
“I used reverse cursed technique to bring you back,” Yuuta explains, but still doesn’t make any sense.
They talk and Yuuji understands and all he feels is relief. He’s still alive, and didn't break his promise to Megumi. When he closes his eyes Yuuji still sees Sukuna’s memories, the deaths upon deaths, so he forces himself to think about Megumi, to remember their time together and his promise.
He knows now that he can’t give up, that he has to find a way to stop Sukuna, to make sure he’s gone forever. But a tiny, tiny part of his brain thinks only of Megumi and needs and craves more time with him. It doesn’t matter how long it will take for Yuuji to find all the fingers, it won’t be enough.
No one ever told him, but dying turns a person selfish.
—
“You died again?” Megumi asks. He’s so hurt, so tired, but his voice is still so angry Yuuji wants to laugh.
“Yeah, but Yuuta-senpai never intended to actually kill me!” Yuuji says, as if it solves everything. Ha ha ha, it was just a joke! One moment I’m dead, the other I’m not! Isn’t it funny?! “He just had to–”
He’s interrupted when Megumi pulls him into a hug that soon turns into a kiss. Megumi kisses him like a starved man, with too much tongue and teeth clicking like they did at the beginning and as if they’ll be pulled into opposite directions at any moment.
Yuuji is vaguely aware that Yuuta is right there having to watch this, but he can’t stop kissing Megumi. It’s always like this, they touch and there’s a hunger in him, something that needs more, more, more.
“You can’t keep your promises, can you?” Megumi asks him when they pull apart and Yuuji grimaces. He wants to tell Megumi that he is keeping a promise, just not the one Megumi wants.
“I just–” Yuuji doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
Yuuji doesn’t know what Megumi went through, but he can see how tired he is, barely keeping it together. He hugs Megumi, closes his eyes and tries not to think about everything that just happened. Gojo sealed, Nanami dead, Nobara hurt–
It’s all my fault, Yuuji thinks.
–and all because he was too weak. Yuuji clings harder to Megumi, the only one he has left for now, the only source of comfort after everything that happened. Megumi clings to him just as hard, fingers digging on the back of Yuuji’s uniform. He does it with so much strength Yuuji feels Megumi would turn out his flesh if it wasn’t for the clothes in his way.
And I’d let him do it if it meant he would be fine.
There’s no one else left, Yuuji thinks. His grandfather, Nobara, Gojo, Nanami, all taken from him, all but Megumi. Yuuji cradles his face, holds him as if he’s precious, staring at his eyes.
“Fushiguro–” he begins, unsure of how to say it. It sounds cliche to say it now, but still.
“I know,” Megumi interrupts him. He hugs Yuuji again, hides his face on the crook of Yuuji’s neck and whispers “Me too” against his skin.
Yuuji leans his cheek against Megumi’s shoulder and smiles. Everything is broken now, but maybe if Megumi is with him they’ll still be able to fix it.
—
His dorm room almost feels like someone else’s. It’s the bedroom of a boy who still had hopes and dreams, but now, as Yuuji looks at it, he feels like that boy is dead. Maybe he died in Shibuya, maybe even before, but he’s gone. In his place now there’s only Yuuji and his new scars and old promise of stopping everything.
There are still small trinkets from his dates with Megumi, wrappers from the candies they stole from Gojo, comic books he used to read after class. It’s the bedroom of a teenage boy, but Yuuji feels like he’s anything but.
Still, when he lies on his bed he feels almost at peace, at least something is like before. The world shifted, but this corner remained the same, like a time capsule. Megumi lays with him and they stay silent, staring at the ceiling.
“You never told me how many points you had,” Yuuji says. The games are over, but not the fight. It seems like that never ends. Instead, it only gets worse.
Megumi doesn’t look at him. “Enough.”
He’s different now, changed with the world. Outside he’s still the Megumi Yuuji remembers, but inside he feels like a whole new person,
That is not true and you know it.
someone who Yuuji barely recognizes. His eyes are darker, his speech less patient, his words harder. Yuuji told him everything about meeting Higuruma and what happened after, but Megumi never told him what he did before he met the angel girl.
“How many, Fushiguro?” Yuuji presses because he needs to know. It’s not an easy question, but they are past that now. Megumi owes him that much.
Megumi sighs as he looks at Yuuji. He doesn’t look angry, but there’s something in his eyes, an annoyance that only comes when Yuuji insists on keeping his morals. Still, Megumi answers him, voice low: “Forty five.”
At this, two things happen at the same time: Sukuna laughs and it echoes through Yuuji’s body and Yuuji feels himself turn colder. He thinks about Nobara and the way she told him she didn’t care about killing. And now Megumi. Yuuji feels left behind, a child trying to keep up with adults.
“I didn’t–” Megumi begins. He sighs again, brushes a hand through his hair. “Some guy gave me his points. I only killed him and another one.”
Only, as if two isn’t bad enough. There’s something he’s not telling Yuuji, his voice says it all with how tense it sounds. Yuuji wants to ask, but he doesn’t. The more he knows the more he feels disconnected from Megumi and right now he needs them to be together. It’s selfish and beneath him, but Yuuji doesn’t care. If this is the new Megumi then Yuuji will take him.
“You–”
“It was a kill or be killed situation, Itadori,” Megumi interrupts. “They weren’t the type of people who’d give me points or let me go because I batted my eyelashes at them.”
It sounds like an accusation and Yuuji sits up. “What does that mean?”
Megumi sits up as well, but soon he’s straddling Yuuji’s lap. It’s always good to have him there, his weight grounding Yuuji, keeping him in the moment. “You don’t know the power you have over others, do you?” Megumi asks.
“What?” Yuuji holds him by his waist, afraid Megumi will get angry and try to leave.
“That guy made a rule and gave you points just because, Itadori,” Megumi replies. “Just because it was you.”
“He tried to kill me first!”
“Still,” Megumi wraps his arms around Yuuji’s shoulders, fingertips touching his skin under the collar of his shirt. “You’re so naive, Itadori.” It’s not said with contempt, more with adoration, like Megumi can’t believe Yuuji is still like this even after everything he has been through. “And if he didn’t want to help you, then what were you going to do? Offer something else?”
Yuuji can’t answer that. It’s difficult to imagine what would have happened if Higuruma hadn’t stopped the fight. I was ready to die again, he thinks, I would never offer anything because I was ready to be punished. He can’t tell Megumi that, can’t even begin to explain it, so he doesn’t.
“And what if he had asked for sex instead of the points?” Megumi asks. His voice is low now, his eyes dark as he presses close to Yuuji. “Would you get down on your knees and suck his dick instead of killing him for them?”
“Of course not!” Yuuji shrieks. “He didn’t– he was– he wasn’t a bad guy! He wouldn’t!”
Megumi curls his fingers on Yuuji’s hair and tugs it, making Yuuji look up at him. Like this, over Yuuji, he looks like a predator. Eyes intense and focused and Yuuji feels himself get hard in his pants.
“You’re fucking with me,” he says, the realization making him blush.
Megumi doesn’t chuckle, not really. Instead, he scoffs and smirks. “A little bit, yeah,” he kisses Yuuji and when he pulls away he looks full of himself. “I like when you get all flustered and shy, it’s cute.”
Yuuji slides his hands down Megumi’s body and touches his ass, using all his strength to do so. Megumi moans and Yuuji laughs. “Man, for a second I thought you were mad at me.”
Megumi grinds down on him and oh, what a lovely feeling, to feel their hard dicks rubbing like this. “No, because I know you’d never suck anyone’s dick but mine, right?”
“Yeah,” Yuuji says, hands now on the hem of Megumi’s shirt so he can pull it off. Once Megumi is shirtless Yuuji flips their positions, mouth on Megumi’s neck, sucking and biting. “You’re the only one.”
Megumi helps him to take his shirt off and smiles at him, all teeth and maybe rage and a lot of love. Megumi may be the one under him, but nothing about him is submissive: he knows he has full control over Yuuji, that Yuuji would do anything Megumi asked him to. He looks at Yuuji and Yuuji knows he’s about to be devoured – and he’s never been happier about something in his life.
—
Before, Yuuji didn’t know what it means to be alone.
At school he was always surrounded by classmates or people following him around trying to get him to join their clubs. At the hospital he was always with his grandfather or, when he was sleeping, talking to the nurses. At jujutsu tech most students keep to themselves and Yuuji rarely sees the faculty, but still, he never felt truly alone.
(And there’s Sukuna too, a constant presence either voluntarily or not. But Yuuji would rather not think about him.)
But that was before, and this is now. Now the school halls almost feel abandoned and haunted. Yuuji can go hours without seeing anyone else and he knows better than to try and find them. So much has happened, everyone just wants some peace.
Still, when Yuuji walks around the school grounds he feels something, a presence that he can’t explain. It’s always there, maybe on his peripheral vision, but when he turns there’s nothing.
Do you truly not know or are you just playing dumb, brat?
Yuuji ignores Sukuna’s voice, refuses to listen to him more than necessary. He’s a curse and as one he will never help humans, even if they are forced to share a body. So Yuuji gives in to the loneliness and feels it in his bones.
Once, when Yuuji was still in middle school and his grandfather was still healthy, he broke a finger playing baseball. He was young and his body strong, so the finger healed in a month or two, but a feeling remained. Whenever it rains or it’s too cold Yuuji feels phantom pain in his bone, a memory that it was fixed, but it would never be the same, not exactly.
It’s how he feels as he spends his time alone. Things are fixed (for now), but they won’t return to what they once were. He feels this pain in his chest, aching and aching without a solution. There’s no painkiller Yuuji can take for that; the same way his finger only stops hurting when it’s warmer, his heart will only stop when they can all move on.
This will never happen, it will only get worse for you from now on.
“No,” Yuuji says into the darkness of a hallway. “I will stop you, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
Sukuna’s laugh sounds like nails on a chalkboard now, reminding Yuuji of the evil that waits for all of them and of his own faults.
You can’t do that without dying, brat. Are you still willing to die to try to defeat me?
“Yes,” he answers. “I will die if I have to and you know that. Nothing has changed.”
There’s a noise in the darkness, something falls inside an empty classroom. Sukuna laughs again, but doesn’t say anything in return, maybe already bored. Yuuji looks down the hall, but doesn’t see anything. He doesn’t feel the presence either, but maybe it was never there, maybe he’s just paranoid after the culling games.
His phone vibrates in his pocket and Yuuji grabs it. There’s a new message from Megumi, a simple I’m back. He’s not a big texter and most times Yuuji doesn’t know where he goes to in his missions, but it’s fine. Megumi, unlike him, always keeps his promises. If he says he’ll never leave Yuuji then he’ll never leave, it’s as simple as that.
Yuuji turns and starts walking back to his room where he knows Megumi will already be waiting. There’s no loneliness that lasts forever.
—
Sometimes, Yuuji envies Choso. He killed people, he followed Kenjaku, he did bad things, but here he is, as if nothing ever happened. And if Yuuji thinks about it, he’s there too, pretending he doesn’t know all those things about Choso and they are, what, friends?
Brothers.
It’s something that Yuuji doesn’t know how to deal with, still. They are not brothers, he knows – or he sure hopes so, it’s not like Yuuji knows a lot about his parents, anyway – but Choso won’t listen to him, so here they are, in this limbo. Still, he somehow has the stomach to work with Choso, to accept his help as they end curses.
They finish for the day, walking side by side in silence. It’s something he likes about Choso, how he never tries to fill the silence with idle conversation. Before, Yuuji used to talk a lot, and always had something to say. Now, he feels tired and stretched out beyond his capacity, always ready to snap.
Choso is quiet, but mostly, he doesn’t judge. Even when they talked about Eso and Kechizu, all he did was brush it all away with a it was a misunderstanding and that was the end of it. Yuuji wonders if maybe it’s because he’s not human, if maybe he too could be like this, forgiving and forgetting so easily.
“Stop,” Choso says and Yuuji stops behind him. “There’s something following us.”
Yuuji looks around, but there’s no one else around. There’s only him, Choso and the dimly lit street. Still, he knows that bad things can lurk in the shadows, so he stays put.
Sukuna laughs, but Yuuji ignores him, focusing on his surroundings.
Yuuji feels a soft touch on his cheek, almost like a caress, but when he turns around there’s nothing there, only the streetlamp casting shadows on the wall. Still, he feels goosebumps, a feeling that something is out there, watching them. No, watching him.
“Can you feel it?” Choso asks, whispering.
Yuuji only nods, the feeling intensifying. “Let’s just go,” he tells Choso. “Maybe it won’t attack.”
Oh brat, but he will.
Once again something touches his cheek and the back of his neck, a soft touch that makes him shiver. He walks close to Choso, hyper aware of their surroundings, of what could be following them. It’s strange, for Yuuji doesn’t remember the last time he was afraid of anything. In the beginning he used to be scared of curses, but that was before, when he was still an innocent boy.
“Are you alright, little brother?” Choso asks him. “You’re shaking.”
Yuuji blinks, brings himself back to the present. “Yeah, it’s just–”
Choso puts a hand on his shoulder, guiding him the rest of the way. It’s comforting in a way it shouldn’t be, not after everything that has happened, but Yuuji leans into the touch in need of anything that will ground him.
He feels a soft touch on his hand, almost like the shadows are stretching to hold it, but as soon as it comes it goes. Maybe he’s been working too much, he thinks, maybe he needs a good night of sleep to forget everything for a couple of hours.
Where are you? Reads Megumi’s text on his phone and Yuuji smiles. At the gates, see you soon, he replies.
The shadows finally give him peace.
—
Yuuji wakes up sweating and trembling. Whatever he dreamed about, it wasn’t pretty. He breathes in and out, looking around and remembering that he’s safe (for now). Megumi is sleeping, cheek squished against the pillow and hair sticking out in all directions. Yuuji looks at him and smiles, moving forward to kiss his forehead.
He’s almost sleeping again when Megumi pulls him close, hugging him tight. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asks, voice slurred.
“Yeah,” Yuuji hides his face on the crook of Megumi’s neck. “But I don’t remember what it was about.”
Megumi hums, fingers caressing Yuuji’s hair. He’s never like this unless he’s sleepy and Yuuji cherishes these moments, when Megumi drops his usual coldness and acts softly. It’s like being let in on a secret, being the only one who sees Megumi like this, not like a survivor, but like the boy he is.
Usually, Yuuji is the one who hugs him close and holds him as they fall asleep, but he likes how Megumi senses his distress and reverses the roles. He slides his hand up and down Yuuji’s back in a comforting gesture, so soft and sweet Yuuji wants to cry. He doesn’t remember the last time he was treated with so much tenderness before he met Megumi.
“You don’t need to worry,” Megumi whispers. “I’ll protect you.”
He can’t, Sukuna says.
You can’t, Yuuji thinks.
Megumi seems to be getting better on understanding him, for he hugs Yuuji even tighter – Yuuji is much stronger, he could push Megumi away at any point, but he likes the feeling of air escaping his lungs, his limbs being crushed bit by bit – and doesn’t let him go.
“I will,” he says, voice laced with nothing but determination even though he still sounds more asleep than awake. “Don’t you dare doubt me, Itadori.”
Yuuji doesn’t, not really. Megumi is one of the strongest people he knows, far smarter and with better technique than Yuuji. Still, not even him can fight fate. Yuuji doesn’t tell him that, there’s no reason to, not now. Instead, he hugs Megumi, rolls on his back and lets Megumi rest on his chest. It’s good to sleep like this, pressed together, heartbeats almost in sync, surrounded by nothing but Megumi and the darkness of his room. Yuuji doesn’t know how much time he has, but he’ll enjoy it while he can.
—
“Fushiguro!” Yuuji enters his room in a rush, dropping water everywhere. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, one on his hair, but barely dried himself after the shower. “Fushiguro!”
Megumi scrolls through his phone, a bored expression on his face. He looks over at Yuuji, eyes barely registering him before going back to whatever he’s looking at. He always does that when he thinks Yuuji is about to say something annoying.
“What?” He asks, attention on his phone.
“I– You–” Yuuji starts, stutters, then just turns his back to Megumi. “What did you do to my back?”
His body is a collection of scars and bruises, so much that Yuuji rarely pays attention to a new one unless it bleeds. Still, those are difficult to ignore. Little crescent moons on his shoulders and red lines on his back from where Megumi held him with too much strength.
Megumi looks back at him, and yes, Yuuji can see that he thinks it’s annoying. “I don’t see what’s the problem.”
“I left the shower and Hakari-senpai saw it!” Yuuji covers his face with his hands, mortification taking over him again.
“Itadori, everyone knows we’re dating.”
“But still!” Yuuji says, voice muffled. “I can never look him in the eyes again.”
There’s a soft noise of footsteps and soon Megumi is in front of him, prying Yuuji’s hands away from his face. “Don’t be a baby, it’s not a big deal,” he says and kisses Yuuji. When they part he starts drying Yuuji’s hair with practiced gestures. “I don’t remember you complaining when it happened.”
Yuuji looks at their feet, thankful that Megumi can’t see his face under the towel. “I, uh, don’t think I remember. I was too in the moment, I think.”
Megumi hums and moves the towel. Once he ends he places the towel around Yuuji’s neck, one hand on each end so he can keep Yuuji close. “Should I do it harder next time?” He asks, smirking. His eyes glint with something and Yuuji tries to look away.
“I mean–” he starts, but soon he feels Megumi pressing his thumb against a nasty bruise on his side. Yuuji whines, but Megumi keeps pressing it. “Fuck.”
Megumi’s smirk turns into a grin. “If you want me to hurt you I can do that,” he says.
“I don’t know–”
Megumi kisses him again, but stronger this time. He doesn’t give Yuuji time to think before pressing him against the door, kissing Yuuji's mouth with intent. When they part, Megumi bites his bottom lip, pain making Yuuji tremble. Their next kiss tastes like blood and this time Yuuji has to hold Megumi by the waist to ground himself.
The problem of being the same height as Megumi is that when they break the kiss Yuuji looks him in the eyes. Megumi is staring at him, serious and calculating and hungry. He kisses Yuuji again, thumb still pressing against his bruise, the other hand on his shoulder and up to Yuuji’s cheek. He caresses the skin softly and Yuuji feels deja-vu.
“Do you know now?” Megumi asks as he moves to kiss Yuuji’s jaw and his neck. He brushes his teeth against the skin there and Yuuji buckles against him. He feels Megumi’s finger dig into the skin of his torso, pushing him against the door.
“Yeah,” Yuuji answers, voice already airy. “I like it, I mean, I want you to–”
“You want me to hurt you,” Megumi completes the sentence for him when all Yuuji can do is moan. This time there’s no teasing, he bites on the junction of Yuuji’s neck and shoulder so strongly there will be a mark. Yuuji grabs him by his shirt, wanting them to be even closer. “I can do that.”
Megumi pushes himself away and Yuuji has no shame in whining at the loss of contact. He’s already panting, towel uncomfortable on his waist and breathing fast. Megumi, unlike him, seems calm and in control just like always. He turns the lights off and the room feels ten times more charged with tension in the darkness.
“Come on,” Megumi calls from the shadows. Yuuji knows he’s already on the bed, maybe sitting on the edge, legs stretched. “Come here, Itadori.”
Yuuji unwraps the towel from his waist and goes. There’s no command Megumi could give him that he wouldn’t obey.
—
“Fushiguro,” Yuuji calls later. The room is even darker than before, so it must be late. Yuuji feels his body lethargic and sticky, in need of a new shower, but he’s too lazy to get up. The new marks on his neck, torso and back burn when he moves against the sheets.
Megumi hums. “Yes?”
“When we were, you know…”
If Megumi was the type of person who laughs easily he would have chuckled at it, but he isn’t, so he doesn’t. Still, Yuuji can feel the amusement in his voice when he asks: “What about it?”
“It felt, I don’t know, sometimes you were touching me but it felt like there was someone else here too,” he tries to explain. It’s a strange feeling, one Yuuji felt before, but decides not to think about it. “Did you feel it?”
Megumi stays quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Did you like it?”
Yuuji feels himself blush, happy that Megumi can’t see him in the darkness of the room. “Yeah,” he whispers, embarrassed.
“Then don’t worry about it,” is all Megumi says before pulling him into a kiss that leads to another and another and another and soon Yuuji forgets about everything else.
—
“Do you think you could go back to what you were?” Megumi asks him one night.
They sit in the school fields, looking at the night sky. It’s strange to feel at peace after everything that happened, but Yuuji is used to a life of ups and downs, so he takes it for what it is: the calm before whatever storm that will come.
“Like, not eating the fingers?” Yuuji asks in return.
“No, I mean your personality,” Megumi looks different these days, even more so. There’s something unreachable inside him, a part that is locked away and that Yuuji can’t understand. “You think you could smile easily like you did when you arrived at school.”
“No,” Yuuji replies right away. “After everything that I saw… I don’t think I can go back to the Yuuji I was before.”
Megumi hums. “Me neither.” His voice is nothing but a whisper. He sounds scared, but not for the reasons one would assume; someone else would be afraid of what the things they saw and what it means, but not Megumi. He’s afraid of himself, of the person he’s becoming.
So you’re not as dense as I thought you were.
Silence stretches between them and Yuuji reaches to hold Megumi’s hand. It’s easy to stay like this, together, but each in their own world, thinking about the things they lost and the things they gained. Yuuji thinks about everything they went through to get there, all the things they will still have to do.
Megumi breaks the silence with another whisper: “I didn’t tell you everything I did in the culling games.”
Despite what Sukuna may think, Yuuji is not stupid. He doesn’t look at Megumi, but squeezes his hand. “It’s fine, you don’t need to.”
There are moments that define one’s life: moments in which a person can say before and after. And this is one of them, Yuuji knows. That’s why he squeezes Megumi’s hand harder and holds his breath.
Time stands still as Megumi turns to look at him. Whatever he wants to say, it could be their after, changing how things are between them. Because Yuuji thinks he knows what it may be, but there’s a difference between thinking and knowing for sure and once words are spoken they can’t be taken back.
If Megumi speaks then Yuuji will have to face a new reality, and for once he wants to be selfish and refuse to listen to it. Please, he wants to tell Megumi, I’ve already lost so much, can’t I cling to you for a little bit longer?
“Okay,” Megumi says at last, squeezing Yuuji’s hand back. “I won’t.”
There’s no sadness in his voice, no disappointment. It’s what Yuuji always liked about Megumi, that he has always been such a logical person, far smarter than Yuuji could ever be.
They stay like this, holding hands in the silence of the night and Yuuji almost feels like it’s the beginning of everything again, when things were bad, but not so much. They can’t go back, but it doesn’t mean Yuuji can’t think and wish he could, even if just for a second.
When it’s late and Megumi sits up Yuuji follows him and they go back to his room, hand in hand and still in silence. The only way is forward and it won’t be so bad if Megumi is with him.
—
There’s a grave in the school grounds, one no one talks about in the open, but in hushed tones and text messages. It’s not like it’s any of their business anyway – you’re all still young, Yuki had told the students one, you’ll understand this when you’re older, and that was the end of it.
Yuuji looks at it and remembers the day he lost his grandfather. How long has it been since? He can’t even keep track of the months, all he knows is that it probably happened a lifetime away, to another boy who had hopes for a future. He looks at the grave and tries to understand what this type of loss is.
“I should've done this sooner,” Gojo says from his side.
He’s different now too, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Yuuji glances at him and back at the grave and imagines that maybe someone fought Gojo over it, but, just like always, in the end he always wins.
“I’m sorry sensei, I can go if you want to be alone,” Yuuji moves, but Gojo stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine, you can stay,” he says. Then, he turns to the grave and sighs. “He killed his parents and I don’t know where their graves are or if they even have those. The school is the only place he had.”
Yuuji nods, though he can’t begin to understand his teacher’s relationship with his best friend. “I’m sorry it ended like this.”
Gojo doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, what he says is: “He had his ideals, I had mine. It could only end in death.” He turns to Yuuji and studies him. “Sometimes people have so much darkness inside them that it spills out, Yuuji-kun, and there’s nothing we can do about it. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”
Yuuji fidgets. “I know,” he says at last.
“And you know it’s how it will end for you too.” It’s not a question and it’s not said with cruelty. His teacher can be many things, but he always tries his best. The man could have killed him the first night they met, but didn’t because Megumi asked him not to.
“I know,” Yuuji repeats.
“Do you know whose death?”
“No,” he replies. “But I hope it’s mine.”
Gojo smiles, a rare sight these days. Yuuji thinks other people might be scared of him, this man so tall with a strange blindfold over his eyes, but who still sees perfectly. But for Yuuji he only means comfort and second chances. He places a hand over Yuuji’s hair and messes with it.
“You’re a good kid, Yuuji-kun,” Gojo tells him before leaving.
Yuuji wants to protest, for good kids don’t let curses kill using their bodies, but he doesn’t. He’s tired and just once he wants to forget, so he does. Death will come for him, he knows, but not now. For now he just lives.
—
If asked, Yuuji wouldn’t know how to pinpoint the exact moment he got used to the smell of blood. Before, it was a novelty. Not more than a few drops when he cut himself cooking or an artificial prop on a movie. Now he barely registers the color red. It’s everywhere, anyway: in Sukuna’s domain and in the subway in Shibuya and in the streets during the culling games and–
Watch, brat, watch and learn.
in this empty street where curses and curse users lie dead.
It’s not an uncommon sight in these post-culling games days, but still, Yuuji stops at the scene in front of him, wondering what happened. It doesn’t make him throw up like Sukuna’s actions, but something curls in his stomach and Yuuji takes a deep breath and leans against a lamp post, heart beating faster. It’s not like Sukuna’s actions. No, it’s worse, for Yuuji knows who did it.
Not running away from it this time?
He ignores the voice in his head and tries to look around, but there’s nothing but death. Some of the bodies look like they were attacked by a dog, some attacked by a bird, some are torn to shreds and some are unrecognizable. Yuuji looks away, hands trembling, head dizzy.
Something touches his cheek, a soft touch that is so familiar Yuuji can’t find it in him to push it away. He doesn’t need to turn to see who it is, he would recognize that feeling anywhere – isn’t it what he always thought? That when it was time for him to die he would remember this the most? – but still, maybe he’ll be able to escape.
Fingers close around his wrist and Yuuji doesn’t fight it. He could, his strength is enough to match most techniques these days, but he doesn’t. There’s no point in it when he’ll have to go back to the school and this will happen again eventually. So, when he’s tugged into the shadows, Yuuji goes.
The darkness is oppressive and for a moment Yuuji thinks that maybe this is how he’ll die. It makes sense, doesn’t it, that the boy who once pleaded for his life is the one to kill him. It lasts only a few seconds, but when Yuuji is brought back from the shadows he’s somewhere else, on another dimly lit street.
He lands on his feet, but falls to his knees as he tries to breathe. His head is still spinning and Yuuji almost lies down on the pavement, suddenly feeling tired. Instead, he curves, now on his hands and knees as he takes long gulps of air. There’s the sound of steps and soon too feet are on his line of vision and Yuuji trembles.
The Megumi who stands in front of him is not the boy he remembers, but something else entirely. He’s whatever the world chewed and spat out, watching Yuuji with cruel, cold eyes. Still, when he speaks it’s not cruel, cold words, but: “Are you alright?”
Yuuji nods and wobbles to his feet, looking at Megumi. He has blood on his uniform, face and hair, but he doesn’t look hurt. Yuuji has seen him after battles, about to pass out; this is not that boy, this is someone, something else.
“You killed those people,” he says once he’s breathing normally again.
“Yes,” Megumi confirms.
“Why?”
Megumi seems to think about the question, but Yuuji knows him better than anyone else, knows he’s thinking about what better way to explain himself. “They attacked me, I didn’t have any option.”
“The world is not like the culling games, Fushiguro.”
“Isn’t it?” Megumi asks, voice neutral.
There’s something in his voice that dares Yuuji to disagree and the thing is, he can’t, not really. Things changed after the culling games, the world knows about curses, the streets are dangerous. Life is not like before, it’s stupid to hope for Fushiguro to remain the same.
“So you were the one who has been following me,” Yuuji says, gesturing towards their shadows on the pavement. “For how long?”
“Since we came back from the culling games,” Megumi replies casually.
Yuuji looks at him, at the boy who pleaded for his life, who stood by his side during all the bad moments. There’s not much of that boy in there anymore, in his place there’s someone whose life tried to stop, but never managed to – he’s simply too strong. Yuuji looks at the boy he liked from day one and sees a survivor.
He wonders what Megumi sees.
“Why?” He asks at last.
“Because you want to die!” Megumi shouts. It comes as a surprise to both Yuuji and himself and his eyes widen. His words still echo on the street as the two stare at each other. “You’re trying your hardest to die, Itadori,” he continues. “And I can’t allow that.”
“Fushiguro,” Yuuji takes a deep breath and steps forward. He holds Megumi by his shoulders. “We both know that’s what will happen to me anyway. And if it happens sooner rather than later then think about how many people I’ll help–”
“I don’t care!” Megumi interrupts him. His hands touch Yuuji’s neck and his cheeks, fingertips smearing his skin with blood. “I don’t care about other people, I don’t care! I only care about you, idiot!” He stares at Yuuji’s eyes, his own wide and mad. “I don’t have a mother, my father abandoned me, I don’t even have other relatives after what Maki did, I only have Tsumiki and you. Did you see the lengths I went to for my sister? What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”
Yuuji looks at him and Megumi looks terrified. He’s not that boy Yuuji knew all those months ago that first day, but he’s not a killer either. He’s something in the middle, scared and selfish and desperate.
“Fushiguro–”
“You’re mine, Itadori,” Megumi says, voice serious now. His hold on Yuuji is strong, fingers steady. “I’ll protect you from everyone, including yourself.”
Yuuji can’t stop the tears and they slide down his cheeks freely, dripping on his uniform. He pulls Megumi into a hug and hides his face on the crook of his neck. Megumi smells of blood and sweat, but it’s still him, the boy Yuuji loved from day one. He cries while Megumi holds him tight, hands on his back and lips kissing his neck softly.
“I love you,” Megumi tells him when they pull apart. He wipes Yuuji’s tears away, calloused fingers pressing against his skin in a gentle way. “I’m not going to lose you.”
This is not love.
And what do you know about it?
Yuuji smiles, eyes still wet and swollen, but shining. He can’t remember the last time someone told him that – his grandfather loved him, but he wasn’t the type to put it into words – so he relishes in the feeling, commits every detail of the moment in his memory.
He cradles Megumi’s face in his hands, holds him like he’s precious and kisses him with reverence. “I love you too,” Yuuji whispers against his lips. “I love you.”
Megumi smiles and Yuuji realizes how much he missed it, how much he needed to see it. One simple act and he feels something bloom in his chest, like his entire body is wired to respond to Megumi. They kiss again and Yuuji forgets about the blood on Megumi’s clothes and their hands. This is more important than anything else, anyway.
—
It’s not the first nor the last time Megumi kills.
There’s no need for him to hide anymore, so he doesn’t. The world is not what it was before Shibuya and Megumi doesn’t treat it as such: he does what he needs to do, fighting who he needs to fight.
Yuuji watches it from the sidelines, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Still, he doesn’t stop Megumi. There’s – and he would never admit it aloud, but the thought is there, in his mind, refusing to leave – a certain beauty to the madness that is Fushiguro Megumi.
He’s not the boy Yuuji once knew, he’s stronger and smarter, eliminating enemies so quickly Yuuji can’t even count them. He drops his weapons to the ground and they disappear into the shadows as he turns to Yuuji, blood on his uniform and on his cheek and a wicked smile on his lips.
And Yuuji has never been more in love.
He’s bruised too, but that doesn’t stop him from throwing himself on Fushiguro’s arms, knowing that he might stumble, but he will catch Yuuji. He does it and the two kiss and Yuuji knows, he knows this isn’t right. Megumi shouldn’t be so used to killing and Yuuji shouldn’t be so used to watching it, but he can’t stop himself.
Yuuji has already lost so much, had to give up so much, he can’t and he won’t give up on this. If only he can have Megumi until it’s time for him to die then Yuuji will go happily. Just this once he wants to be selfish, he earned it.
—
Entering Sukuna’s domain never gets easier. It’s not much the blood that makes Yuuji recoil, but the oppressive atmosphere of it – the air reeks of death and despair. Still, Yuuji’s steps are no longer hesitant, he’s not afraid anymore. Now he walks to the throne with purpose and if not with confidence then with something very close to it.
Sukuna watches him from above, looking bored and disdainful as always. “I didn’t call you here,” he says. It’s always strange to hear his voice in the open instead of inside his mind and Yuuji wants to recoil, but doesn’t.
“Well, not everything is about what you want,” Yuuji tells him.
One moment Sukuna is on his throne, the other he’s in front of Yuuji, red eyes staring at him. It always feels like something straight out of a nightmare, to look at this version of himself that looks so much like Yuuji, but so different at the same time. It’s what he hates the most about it, that Sukuna took his form. It’s a visual representation of everything he did: taking all Yuuji had and twisting it into something ugly.
“You’re mistaken, brat,” he says, so close they are almost touching. “Nothing happens unless I want it to. But I suppose you’re not here just to antagonize me, are you?”
Yuuji shakes his head. It’s always better to make conversations with Sukuna quick, it’s unsettling to be in his domain for too long. “What are you doing with me?” He asks.
Sukuna continues staring at him, eyes full of malice. He has this way of looking at Yuuji as if he’s already fantasizing about killing his vessel, always trapped in his own wishes. “What do you mean?” He asks at last, but his grin is an indication that he knows what Yuuji means.
If this was before Yuuji would groan and complain, but he knows Sukuna better by now. Things are always a little bit easier when Yuuji indulges him. “These… these thoughts in my mind, you’re putting them there!”
Sukuna cackles. “I always thought you were stupid, brat, but this goes far beyond my expectations,” he sighes, almost disappointed. “I am not doing anything. It’s all you.”
“No!” Yuuji takes a step back, almost falling to his back. “No! It has to be you!”
Sukuna stares at him, impassive as always. “That’s your own mind, brat,” he says, voice cold. “Perhaps you’re not as pure as you thought.” Then, he takes a step forward, once again close. He holds Yuuji’s chin with his hand, nails digging into his skin. It’s painful, but Yuuji has suffered worse. “I told you it wasn’t love.” He is so close their noses almost touch. “You’re my vessel, brat. Evil has always been within you, the Fushiguro kid only made it bloom.”
He drops his hand and Yuuji stumbles back, feeling blood dripping from where Sukuna held him. “No, it’s not– Fushiguro would never–”
“You know he killed people, you saw it,” Sukuna says, now looking bored. “You asked him to hurt you. You two feed off each other’s energy.” He grins again. “I will enjoy torturing the two of you in front of each other.”
Yuuji ignores the threat, they are all as normal as breathing at this point. “You’re lying,” he says, but it comes out without any conviction. Didn’t they say that it was difficult to find a vessel for Sukuna? Maybe that is why Yuuji can keep eating the fingers and hold the king of the curses inside him.
“Am I?” Sukuna asks. Yuuji blinks and he’s back on his throne, legs crossed and a bored expression on his face. “You’ve already wasted too much of my time today, brat,” he says. “Go, go back to your world, you’re being called.”
Yuuji wants to say something else, but he blinks and when he opens his eyes he’s back in his room.
Fushiguro’s face is too close to his as he stares at Yuuji. Once Yuuji opens his eyes he unceremoniously sits back over Yuuji’s thighs. “Were you at Sukuna’s domain?”
Yuuji blinks once, twice, getting used to the daylight again. It’s the first thing he notices, how clear the room is compared to Sukuna’s domain and to Megumi’s shadows. “Yeah,” he replies. “It happens sometimes, a pain in the ass,” Yuuji rests on his elbows, looking at Megumi. “How did you even know?”
“I’ve watched you sleep many times before, Itadori,” he says. “I know when you’re napping and when you’re not,” he leans forward, holding Yuuji’s chin with his fingers, touch gentle and delicate. Still, it makes Yuuji shiver.
This is not love, he thinks, an echo that can’t leave his mind. But if it’s not, then why does it feel so good? Sukuna could have at least explained that.
“You’re not going to tell me what you talked about,” Megumi says. It’s not a question.
“No,” Yuuji says. “His words are nothing but poison.”
Megumi hums, but doesn’t press on the subject. It’s a quality all jujutsu sorcerers learn: how to know when to ask questions and when to stay quiet. So, instead of speaking, Megumi kisses him softly.
“Here,” he says in between kisses. “So you forget about what he said.”
Yuuji smiles into the kisses, sits up and holds Megumi by his waist, enjoying how well their bodies feel together. This is not love, he thinks as Megumi kisses his neck, hands sneaking under his shirt. It may not be, but it doesn’t matter, it’s all Yuuji needs.
—
Because life is full of ironies, Yuuji is at a school during the anniversary of one year of the day he ate the first finger.
The school’s layout reminds him of his, the same long hallways, the same empty courtyards, the same type of curses inside the classrooms. Except now Yuuji is not a boy fighting to save his friends, he’s beyond that role. Now the curses run from him, maybe sensing Sukuna’s presence inside him, maybe sensing whatever evil is festering inside his heart, untouched by the king of curses, but real just the same.
They run from him and Yuuji runs after them, pure brute strength and determination. He won’t let that evil take him–
You can’t fight it, brat.
and won’t let curses run rampant while he can still fight. There will come a moment when he will have to go, Yuuji knows. Death will come for him sooner rather than later, but until then he won’t let innocent people die.
He ignores Sukuna’s words as he makes his way to the school’s entrance, body aching and bruised, but all the curses are gone. There’s blood on his face from where a curse scraped it against a wall, but Yuuji will survive. He has no other choice for now.
“Are you hurt?” A voice sounds behind him.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Yuuji answers, not turning around. Maybe before he felt scared of Megumi’s control over the shadows, but now he has come to terms with it. He can always feel that prickling sensation on the back of his neck when Megumi is watching him, following him from the shadows. It’s like having a guardian angel. “You didn’t need to come here, I got it.”
“I finished my own task earlier,” Megumi steps beside him. For once he doesn’t reek of blood and it’s pleasant, but also disappointing for reasons Yuuji doesn’t want to think about. “It’s been a year,” he adds after a brief silence.
“So you remembered,” Yuuji says. They stop walking and look at each other. “A lot has changed since then.”
“Yeah,” Megumi takes a step forward, reaching for his hand. “Do you regret it?”
There’s a second, unspoken question: Do you regret meeting me?
Yuuji interlaces their fingers and kisses Megumi before answering: “No, I don’t regret a single thing.”
Megumi smiles then, small and soft, but it’s there in the way the corners of his mouth move. Even if he didn’t, Yuuji is well versed in his body language now, he knows Megumi is happy just by the way he looks down, unable to meet Yuuji’s eyes. It’s funny how he shows the most horrific parts of himself unabashedly, but tries to conceal his joy.
“Come on, let’s go back,” Megumi tugs Yuuji by his hand. “Let’s celebrate.”
Yuuji lets himself be pulled into the shadows. He’s not afraid anymore, for the darkness now means comfort as long as Megumi is with him. The boy who is willing to fight a god to protect him, who has killed and will kill just so Yuuji doesn’t have to.
Yuuji can’t really do anything but stay by his side.