A_Terrestrial



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    “You want to ruin him," Sukuna says.

    Maybe Sukuna isn’t wrong about that, Fushiguro thinks in a daze. Itadori’s heart is too heavy and too precious. It’s a burden that shouldn’t be given to anyone else. Because even Itadori himself can’t take care of it, can’t hold onto it for the life of him because he’d rather become the vessel to the most wretched of all curses just to help two people he’s only known for a few months—to help Fushiguro, who he’d only met that night.

    (I can keep it. Fushiguro’s hands move. I can hold onto it, if you want.)

    Maybe Sukuna’s definition of ruin wasn’t all that wrong from what Fushiguro wanted after all. Maybe that did make him just as wretched.

    But if Itadori was still willing to stay beside him, despite knowing that—

    Then there was no reason for Fushiguro to let him go.

    Or—

    Some dreams start to keep Fushiguro up at night, and the cure to stopping them might be closer than he thinks.

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    17 Dec 2024

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    Megumi watches it happen in slow motion. The glint of Sukuna’s black claws against Itadori’s chest. The way they smoothly sink into the flesh of Itadori’s chest, pierce the skin and tear the muscle underneath it. Blood spurting out as the hand disappears inside the newly-created cavity.

    or

    Fushiguro Megumi watches a boy who deserved to live more than most die, it haunts him.

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    12 Dec 2024