Work Text:
Yuuji woke up, lukewarm, on the bed.
That was odd, considering Yuuji thrashed around a lot in his sleep and usually he woke up to the chilly, dewy morning air biting onto his skin. And oh, more than once Yuuji saw his blanket had fallen to the floor too, and his shirt left his stomach exposed by his movements. Yuuji was used to it, though. Waking up with a small shudder running down his arms and caused the hairs to stand, that was.
So when Yuuji woke up with warmth on his side that almost lulled him back to slumber, the first reaction Yuuji had was simple.
He returned to sleep.
Was about to, anyway.
Because when Yuuji tilted his head to the side, preparing to curl into a cocoon beneath his blanket which, for once, didn’t slide off the bed, his nose met a nest of thin, sharp strands, and Yuuji creaked an eye open in confusion.
It was Fushiguro.
“AAAAA!!!” Yuuji shrieked and this time, he was the one who fell off the bed.
His head bumped with the tiled floor below, and Yuuji yelped out loud in pain. He groaned and hissed as he rubbed the sore spot, murmuring incomprehensible things to himself. It hurt, like a lot. Despite being capable to endure hits from curses or Maki-senpai or Gojou-sensei, turned out having his head hit by the floor when he was half-awake stored more agony in it.
There were faint shuffles from the bed, Fushiguro starting to stir into consciousness, and Yuuji froze at once. His best friend sat up groggily on the bed, yawning softly like a kitten that just somehow, bloomed an overbearing warmth in Yuuji’s chest. What. Fushiguro craned his head to the side, blinking blearily.
“Is that you, Itadori?” He asked, voice still scratchy from slumber.
“Uhh… Yeah, it’s me, Fushiguro…” Yuuji scrambled back onto his feet, hand never stopped attending the swelling spot on his head as he approached Fushiguro a bit vigilantly. “Why are you on my bed? Did we have a sleepover last night?”
“It’s my bed, Itadori, and no, we didn’t have a sleepover or some sort last night.” Fushiguro swung his feet off the bed, teeth slightly gritting as his bare skin made contact with the freezing tiles. Yuuji’s jaws went slack, and his arms flailed around frantically, mind rushing with scenarios that were mostly unlikely.
From what Yuuji learnt from his weeks of movie training, there were several reasons of why someone would crash into their best friend’s bed.
First, sleepover. Since Fushiguro shot down the idea, then it wasn’t that.
Second, sleepwalking. Though if Yuuji did sleepwalk in his life, he would surely notice that in some point. Then it wasn’t that too.
Third, Fushiguro requested for Yuuji himself. It was an impossible reason, though, for what kind of a person Yuuji was if he forgot about Fushiguro asking him to sleep on the same bed? No way, no way.
Fourth, Yuuji had a nightmare and went to seek comfort, somehow ended up on Fushiguro’s bed. That would be impossible too, since Yuuji recalled nothing but pitch black void in his dreams last night. Oh, there were tints of green into in midst of that darkness, along with hushed whispered that sounded too gentle, too sincere yet fleeting like the morning breeze.
It was the weirdest yet most tranquil dream Yuuji ever had since Sukuna inhabited his mind, body, and soul.
And fifth, the most impossible scenario, Yuuji and Fushiguro banged last night.
HELL NO.
Yuuji jumped as Sukuna shouted in their mind. Due to the initial shock of this whole ordeal, Yuuji failed to spot Fushiguro walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash the sleep away from his face. Before Yuuji could ask Sukuna why the hell did the shout like that, someone tapped on Yuuji’s shoulder.
“Itadori, don’t space out in my room. Go back to yours.”
“Eh? Uhh… Okay…”
Fushiguro slowly waved a hand to Yuuji as he exited, yet Yuuji froze outside his door as he saw a glimpse of puffy, swollen eyes that his best friend bore. Fushiguro was crying?! Surprised, Yuuji’s hand shot forward to grasp the doorknob, but Fushiguro closed the door right before Yuuji could stop him. Eyebrows dropping in worry, Yuuji stoned for a while in front of Fushiguro’s door.
“Sukuna, what did you do last night to Fushiguro?”
An eye and mouth showed up on Yuuji’s cheek in response.
“It’s none of your business, brat.”
“Your business is mine too, you know, since we share the same body and you’re the embodiment of a walking disaster.” Yuuji huffed, itching to just slap Sukuna away, but he had questions to be answered.
This was Fushiguro Megumi they were talking about. Yuuji’s sharp-witted, strong, and non-egoistic best friend. If Sukuna were to plan something awful to Fushiguro, or to sorcerers and normal people in general, then it was Yuuji’s sole obligation to stop him. Yuuji couldn’t forgive himself if he let Sukuna hurt people as he pleased, moreso if he hurt Yuuji’s family.
“Not all humans are capable to comfort themselves alone, remember that.”
And with that parting sentence, Yuuji’s cheek softened as Sukuna retreated.
It was currently 7 in the morning. The atmosphere was cool and peaceful, imperceptible yet tangible tendrils of wind greeting Yuuji’s strawberry locks. There were no other sounds that his ears caught save for chirps of the birds perching on the tree’s branch. Yuuji wouldn’t mind if he stood here for hours, in front of Fushiguro’s door and stilled like a statue just to enjoy this morning.
But Sukuna’s last sentence just made Yuuji’s skin crawl with unknown sorrow, and it was unpleasant.
The moment someone knocked on Nobara’s door at 8 in the morning and she opened it to reveal Ryoumen Sukuna himself, Nobara should’ve screamed.
Instead she bluntly asked.
“Why are you here?”
Nobara mentally face-palmed at her stupidity. Who dared to say that to the King of Curses, not to mention right to his face?! Nobara was such a fool. A beautiful and powerful fool, but still a fool, nevertheless. If she were to die now, then her only regret was she didn’t have the chance to confess to Maki-senpai.
And oh, she hadn’t stolen one of Gojou-sensei’s credit cards. That counted too.
“I need one of your beauty equipment. The brat says you have a lot of those.” Sukuna stayed unmoving by his feet, and Nobara was torn between astonished and muddled. First of all, Nobara was really glad that Sukuna didn’t kill her on spot for her crass manner. Second, the King of Curses was asking for a beauty equipment? For what? Did he need a glow up? Again, for what?
“… Which one?” But since Nobara didn’t sense any jeopardize intentions coming from the curse, she decided to play along. She could stall some time for someone to feel Sukuna’s aura and rush to her dorm. After all, she was Jujutsu High’s first-year’s maiden. It would a shame to lose such beauty.
“The one for cutting nails.” Sukuna emphasized with hesitant pinching gestures to the empty air. “Apparently my nails are too long, so I have to cut them.”
Nobara narrowed her eyes at the vivid display of Sukuna’s nails. She couldn’t tell for sure if the dye was black or dark purple, but black seemed more like it. His nails were long and pointy, looking sharp enough to slash through tree trunk by sheer force alone. They were rather crooked as well, but at least not as terrible as his other fingers that were already rotten and reddish.
“Yeah, you need to cut them. They look like knives, for God’s sake. And did nail polish exist in ancient Japanese? When did you get your nails dyed anyway?” She shook her head in bewilderment. Sukuna stared at her, unimpressed, but didn’t do anything. “Stay there. I’ll get my nail clipper.” A bold move, to order around the King of Curses like that, but Nobara started to find this too intriguing to care.
(After that, she would drown her nail clipper in gasoline, yeet a match to it, and set in on fire. She better ate Gojou-sensei’s horrendous collection of mochi than using the nail clipper Ryoumen Sukuna once used. No way in hell!)
“Here.” Sukuna uncurled his palm as Nobara placed her nail clipper on it.
Sukuna’s eyes (he has four, oh my God) inspected the tool in a curious yet puzzled demeanor, and an uneasy feeling rose in Nobara’s stomach.
“Please don’t tell me you don’t know how to use it.”
“This thing didn’t even exist in back then, brat.”
“Ugh, you know what? Just enter my room. I’ll cut your nails for you, boomer.” Nobara ushered Sukuna to come in, inwardly wondering how, when, and where did she got such a courage to invite the King of Curses into her dorm. Then again, it was 8 in the morning. Having unexpected events were surely normal here, moreso if she lived with the embodiment of chaos and misfortune next door.
Sukuna sat, seiza styled, on the tiled floor as Nobara settled down in front of him. She carded her fingers through her hair first, tying it into a bun because it would be a hassle to cut Sukuna’s nails if some bronze strands were blocking her vision. “Give me your hand, and don’t you dare to cut my wrist off.” She spat an empty threat, and Sukuna scoffed, crimson eyes crinkling amusedly.
“Yuuji could give me an earful of tirade if I did. The brat cares too much for his friends, it’s really annoying to bear.” Sukuna huffed as he extended his hand to Nobara, manner similar to a noble’s when they wished for their hand to be kissed and worshipped. An imaginary vein popped on her forehead, but she swallowed the urge to drive her nail clipper to Sukuna’s eye. Sukuna’s eye was Itadori’s too, and she didn’t want to risk any chances to hurt her best friend.
Nobara opted for an eyeroll instead. Vigilantly, she held Sukuna’s hand as she began to cut his pinky’s nail. She clenched her jaw almost immediately. Damnit, his nail is hard, what the hell. Were curses supposed to have wood-like nails? Nobara’s nail clipper could attend its own funeral soon. Too bad there was no turning back. Nobara asked Sukuna to come into her room first, thus she had to complete her task if it meant a sacrifice would be made (she had planned to sacrifice her nail clipper anyway, so it was no big deal).
“Why did you suddenly want your nails to be cut, anyway?” Nobara asked as she finally finished the pinky’s nail and went to the ring finger’s.
“Megumi chided me about them.” Sukuna provided.
Nobara froze.
“Hah?”
“I won’t repeat myself twice.”
Came a reply that was too fast, but this time Nobara wasn’t a fool who didn’t catch the faint flush painting the ever so ruthless King of Curses’ face.
Holy shit.
“So you came to my room in the morning and asked for my nail clipper, just because Fushiguro commented on your monstrous nails?”
“Want me to inflame your organs, insolent brat?”
“… Okay, seems legit.”
Sukuna’s face was scrunched into a look of confusion right after, not understanding what did Nobara mean on her last sentence. Nobara hummed proudly at herself, starting to enjoy this activity of cutting the King of Curses’ nails. Sukuna wasn’t the type to blabber much when didn’t prompt to, and Nobara thought she could appreciate this particular kind of silence. His cursed energy was tame this time, so it was a point plus for the calm atmosphere.
Right after Nobara exerted yet another strength to cut Sukuna’s nail on his left thumb, the last one, she saw the circular black markings on his wrists began to fade away. Nobara looked up, and she was met with Itadori’s sleepy façade.
“Yo, welcome back, Itadori.” She greeted with a grin.
“Hey, Kugisaki.” Itadori let out a yawn before he continued. “Thanks for listening to Sukuna’s whims earlier. I hope he didn’t trouble you.”
“Don’t worry.” She chuckled, satisfied for knowing an important fact. “He didn’t.”
Ryoumen Sukuna was sensitive to Fushiguro Megumi’s critics, huh.
Maki didn’t bother to close her mouth as she sneezed, tingles running up to her spine at the action. She only wiped her itching nostrils, eyebrows knotting in disdain. Despite the obvious response to the frigid air, she still opened the fridge.
The ending autumn wouldn’t hinder Maki from eating her ice cream.
Rummaging through boxes of sugary cakes Gojou-sensei had in stock, packs of meats and vegetables Yuuji prepared for meals, cartons of milk since Toge wanted to get taller, and some leftovers Nobara kept after a shopping trip, Maki found her Neapolitan ice cream and took it from the mess in the fridge.
She ought to make Yuuji arrange it soon.
Maki closed the fridge door, small box of ice cream in one hand and a big spoon on the other. She turned around and exited the kitchen, only to be greeted with Yuuji who bore black, deep cursed markings all over his face, the canine-like smirk, and four crimson eyes. It was the whole package himself, and Maki took one wary step back, clutching her ice cream close.
“Ryoumen Sukuna, you’re out for a small play?” She asked, trying to form a matching smirk as his to assert dominance. No one messed with Maki, especially after a harsh training or when her hunger for junk food arose.
Sukuna grunted, smirk waning off. “Not in the mood, Zenin.” Like a storm, he walked past Maki and left an impression of buzzing air around her shoulders. Heavy, determined, and solemn. Taken aback, Maki snapped her neck backwards and found that Sukuna had prepared the chopping board, vegetables, meats, and knife on the counter. The stove was already on, and he placed a pot atop of it.
“… Why are you cooking?” Unable to contain her curiosity, Maki questioned.
“Megumi has a fever, and Yuuji says he should eat something warm and healthy in order to strengthen his immunity system.” Sukuna answered, tone terse and body languages stern as he started to chop the vegetables with immaculate precision. Maki betted he learnt that from Yuuji, the housewife of Jujutsu High.
“And why are you cooking for Megumi?” Maki arched an eyebrow, half-perplexed and half-cautious. She knew well Megumi had a fever, and her nephew had been bedridden since morning, unable to attend any class or training today. Some tiny coughs here and there, accompanied by slurred sentences as his emerald eyes hazed with sickness. Poor little thing.
If there was something to blame, then Maki would point at their beach trip yesterday. Maybe the ending autumn really got under Megumi’s skin.
“Oi, Megumi doesn’t like bell peppers.” Maki reminded as Sukuna was prepared to cut the green one into cubes. Although Megumi was already a teenager, the more mature and collected one than his infants of classmates, he was picky when it came to food. If he found an ingredient he resented in the food, he would hardly touch the plate. Such a childish behavior for an edgelord.
“I know.” Despite himself, he still chopped them and inserted them to the pot. Maki huffed heavily from her nostrils. This is was the King of Curses, of course being considerate wasn’t his thing.
(But cooking for someone who endured a fever was a considerate act. Caring, even. Was Sukuna possessed? Why he suddenly cared for Megumi?)
“I’ll help you. I wouldn’t want my nephew to be poisoned by some cursed shits you could put there.” Maki begrudgingly shoved her ice cream back inside the fridge (if her dessert melted, she honestly thought she could throw a fit and force someone to buy her another one) and grabbed another knife from its place, stepping into Sukuna’s space. Consequences be damned, she wouldn’t want to lose her nephew too soon.
“What’s the merit in poisoning Megumi, anyway?” Sukuna grumbled but didn’t push her away, canine fangs warning her with their presence.
“Don’t ask me.” Maki shrugged, taking over in cutting the meats into thin pieces as her eyes were fixated to chopping board. “It’s your goal, isn’t it? To wipe all the sorcerers on Earth because we’re hindering you from breaking a chaos?”
“Indeed.” Sukuna answered without missing a beat. “You sorcerers are nuisances. Foolish humans believing they could do big things just because they have powers in their grip. Someone needs to teach them their place, and I’ll be that someone. Just you wait, I’ll make all of you submit to me and beg for salvation.”
Maki’s hand itched with a newborn urge to plunge her knife to Sukuna’s neck, and it was a close call if it wasn’t for his next sentences.
“All of you but Megumi. When that time comes, Megumi will stand beside me as my equal, and I don’t plan to share him with anyone else. Megumi will be mine and mine alone.” Sukuna stated with a feral grin, satisfaction present even from the possibly morbid imageries in his head, and Maki shuddered.
How did you even make this curse fall for you, Megumi?
And so, putting Maki’s fear for Megumi’s life aside, she watched Sukuna cook with hawk-like eyes and tautening jaws, making sure he only cooked edible things for humans. As a curse, Maki had a hunch he was used in devouring human flesh and bones back then. Swallowing their desperate cries along with scatters of organs and river of blood down to his throat.
Maki accompanied Sukuna to Megumi’s dorm, commanding the curse to stay still and hold that tray of soup as she knocked on the door. “Megumi, you’re awake? Can I come in? I got you some food for you.”
“Yeah, please do.” Megumi’s voice was hoarse and muffled from the other side, the fever began to affect his throat, but then the lock clicked and the door swung inside. Maki saw his frog shikigami using its tongue to open it, sitting sweetly on the corner of the bed until Megumi dispelled it back to the shadows.
Her nephew was a mess of flushed and sweaty skin under the covers. His eyes were half-lidded as he sat up, one flat palm holding his compress in place. He blinked repeatedly, trying to right his vision before he seemed to register the two people entering his room. His gaze flickered to the food on Sukuna’s hand, and much to Maki’s surprise, his body perked up noticeably.
“I got you, little wolf.” Sukuna’s tone could only be described as fond as he made his way to Megumi’s bed and settled the tray on his nightstand. Megumi reached for the bowl and studied it with narrowed eyes.
“… Is that bell pepper that I see?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not eating that. My tongue is already bitter enough, and the last thing I want to do is worsen it.”
“Stubborn pup wouldn’t survive long, you know.”
Sukuna took a seat on Megumi’s side and scooped a spoonful of soup to Megumi who stared at him incredulously as if he grew another set of face. “Open wide, it won’t do you any good if this spills to your sheet.” He prompted, gently prodding the rim of the spoon to Megumi’s bottom lip who kept backing off.
Is the King of Curses seriously this considerate?
Megumi’s cheek flared, a sight that Maki never saw even once in her life (though she had only known Megumi for two years), and he snapped his head sideways as Maki coughed teasingly to announce her existence. “Alright, Megumi, since you already have a caretaker with you, I’ll be taking my leave now. Bye.”
She closed the door behind her then, and sprinted back to the kitchen to claim her neglected ice cream. She had to reward herself for becoming a patient third wheel in less than one minute back there.
To think Sukuna cares for Megumi so much to the point he wills to cook for him and feed him… Since when they have such a bond…?
Sitting on an ice cream parlor, Satoru was lapping at the remaining chocolate milk on his glossy lips when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Holding the cone with one hand, Satoru fished the device out and cocked his head to the side at the caller’s ID. It was Shouko, much to Satoru’s surprise and delight.
“Hey, Shouko!” Satoru greeted cheerily as he answered. For her to suddenly call him like this was unexpected, not to mention it was 11 in the evening too! Though knowing her, Satoru could only think of one reason. “Is it my dear students?”
“Yeah.” There was a frazzled huff from the woman, followed by some shuffles of clothes. “Itadori, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki had just come back after retrieving the ninth finger, but the battle wasn’t as easy as they hoped and they crashed at my place thirty minutes ago. I know I couldn’t count on you to teach manners.”
Satoru heaved a raucous laughter. Shouko knew him so well! Then again, they had been close friends ever since high school! “You know I’m never good with it! So, since I presume you’ve treated their injuries, why did you call me?”
There was a moment of silence before she continued. “It has been twenty-five minutes, but Sukuna just wouldn’t leave Fushiguro’s side. Having the King of Curses sitting inaudibly in my infirmary so late in the night isn’t a good thing for my nerves, okay? Get your arse over here right now, Satoru, or I’ll make your students confiscate your desserts tomorrow.”
Satoru’s smile dropped, and he face-palmed, fingers bending to the side of his skull. Again? He still didn’t understand Sukuna’s sudden urge for being adjacent with Megumi, but he would be damned if he let the curse roam free around Megumi. No one should make a move on Megumi without Satoru’s permission.
“I’ll be there in two. Got an ice cream to finish first.”
“Whatever you say, silly.”
Contrary to his own words, Satoru actually arrived there in twenty seconds. He downed the sparkling frost and vanilla-flavoured cone in one big gulp, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, paid for the dessert, and teleported right into Shouko’s office, catching the woman off guard that would surely receive him a pinch on the arm if it weren’t for his Infinity.
“So where’s my students?” Satoru asked, curious.
Shouko rolled her eyes, bags heavy and way too dark. Satoru noted inwardly that she should sleep as soon as possible. “There.” Her forefinger pointed towards the curtained ward in her office, and as Satoru swished it open, he saw two of his students were sleeping soundly on separate beds, blankets almost covering their whole figure, and one curse that wasn’t supposed to be here.
Sukuna perked up at Satoru’s appearance from his spot, on a gangly plastic chair right next to Megumi’s bed. The curse frowned, crossing his arms over his chest in a displeased manner. “Why are you here, Gojou Satoru?”
“That should be my question.” Satoru huffed indignantly. “Why did you take over my precious Yuuji’s body and won’t leave Megumi’s side?”
“Just want to make sure he’s doing alright.” Sukuna shrugged, almost indifferent, but Satoru begged to differ. “Megumi suffered a horrendous injury earlier due to his usual selflessness. If it wasn’t for me, he would’ve been in a coma by now. As his teacher, you have to work on that.” Sukuna brazenly jabbed a crooked finger to Satoru’s face, and whilst he was more than willing to accept a challenge, this was Megumi’s lack of self-importance they were talking about.
“He’s right, though.” Shouko chirped from behind Satoru. “I had never seen Fushiguro’s gakuran got shredded into pieces like that, and the remnants of blood on his head and pectoral confirmed Sukuna’s explanation.”
Puffing both cheeks, Satoru put his hands on his hips as he leaned forward, thickening his Infinity just so Sukuna wouldn’t be able to touch even the oxygen Satoru exhaled. “What plan do you have that involved Megumi? Why are you so hell bent in taking care of him? Isn’t he just another human sorcerer for you?”
Satoru was thankful that Megumi was asleep. He would castrate Satoru if he heard that last sentence. Of course Megumi wasn’t just another human sorcerer. He never was from the beginning, he was always more than that. Ever since their encounter after Megumi’s dearest daddy’s death, Satoru knew this boy had a great potential. Maybe he could surpass the Zenins, his own blood. Maybe he could surpass Grade I Sorcerers somewhere in the future.
And maybe, he could surpass Satoru one day.
But Megumi never valued himself enough. If he saw himself useful to be a sacrifice for better purposes, as if a helpless lamb being offered to the God, then he could actually lay out his life just like that. Not to mention Megumi’s head was thick too, only accepting his own beliefs. It was hard to inculcate new thoughts into his mind, and remember, this was Gojou Satoru himself speaking.
“Megumi is not just another human sorcerer.” Sukuna gritted through canine rows, baring sharply as if preparing for an ambush. Bring it on then, I’m always prepared, Satoru mulled internally. “He has his talents, he’s insightful about jujutsu world, and he’s astounding in physical combats. Such things are scarce for shikigami users. While they depend on their shikigami too much, Megumi makes a proper use of his martial arts in fight even with his shikigami out for play.
You’ve seen Megumi fought, haven’t you, Gojou Satoru? His movements are beautiful and calculated, never advancing without plan. He forms quick, effective strategies in that pretty little head of his. He’s able to side with his shikigami’s assaults without gaining any injuries from their attacks. Difficult, complicated thing to do, yet Megumi masters it. That’s a kind of talent I find myself get entertained with the most, and Megumi exceeds my expectations.”
Satoru blinked, amazed and surprised all the same.
Oh my, Megumi, did the inherit your daddy’s charm? Look how smitten you’ve made the King of Curses become, just because you fight differently from others.
Satoru grinned, and he patted Sukuna’s slicked back, fluffy locks of strawberry, drawing back just in time before the curse could slash his limbs apart and leave a mess of severed hands on Shouko’s office. She wouldn’t like that. “Yes, yes, I got your point, Sukuna. You’re Megumi’s number one simp.”
Sukuna’s four eyes twitched. “What the hell is a simp?”
“Nah, it’s a popular phrase nowadays. You could ask Yuuji-kun, Nobara-kun, or even Megumi-kun for that.” Satoru straightened his back and chuckled, deep voice displaying the dark undertone as the lights flickered by his cursed energy. “Just let me remind you that if you made a move against Megumi’s consent, I’d snap your body apart, and this time there would be no revival. Understood?”
“Hmph.” Sukuna snorted curtly. “Whatever you say, Gojou Satoru.” The curse closed his eyes and leaned his back to the chair, allowing tension to dissipate from his shoulders. The black curse markings on his face faded away, Yuuji’s soft jawlines and cheekbones returning home, and Satoru shook his head in fond exasperation (for his students, not Sukuna, obviously).
“You got the recording, Shouko?” Satoru asked as he lifted Yuuji’s body from the chair and placed him atop of an unoccupied bed on Nobara’s left side. It wouldn’t do his precious student any good if Yuuji got a sore back in the morning.
Shouko waved her phone lazily. “I’ll send it to you later, don’t worry.”
Satoru giggled, pleased for getting a blackmail material. “Thanks, Shouko!”
Hugging Sukuna’s crooked, reddish, and blotched finger close to his chest, Megumi propped himself against the wall, breathing out a relieved sigh.
He had defeated the Finger Bearer, no longer he could feel its malicious and dangerously playful cursed energy bristling within the crisp evening air. It didn’t come without price though. He was aware that he broke several ribs, cracked one shoulder blade, fractured his jaw, and trickled blood from the side of his head. In this state, Megumi was nothing but a battered, bloodied mess, but he was fine with it. He was used to this already.
He managed to obtain Sukuna’s finger, and it was all that mattered right now.
“Fushiguro!! Fushiguro, are you alright?!”
“Don’t you dare dying on us, Fushiguroooo!!”
Megumi fought the urge to roll his eyes. The action would just damage his skull further, yet as his friends approached him, Megumi couldn’t help himself.
He winced as his eyeballs returned to their right direction after the roll, blurry vision thriving to make out the kneeling figures of Itadori and Kugisaki before him. The girl still held her hammer in her grip, its wooden bar brushing with Megumi’s cheek as she patted his shoulder, hard. He bit back a groan at that. “Really, Fushiguro, you should stop throwing yourself into danger like that!”
“Kugisaki’s right!” The bright and ever so cheerful Itadori frowned, and Megumi never liked that look on him. He despised it, even. “Fushiguro, I know you’re worried about us, but we could handle ourselves just fine! You know, if it wasn’t for Kugisaki’s Resonance, we wouldn’t be here and admonishing you!”
“… It was on instinct.” Megumi admitted, chin burying to his ripped collar almost guiltily but not regretfully. He spoke none other than the truth, for Megumi felt his hands had their own mind that time when he saw hordes of sickening, disfigured curses inching towards his friends, and the next thing he knew he had summoned his shikigami rabbits to bring them away right before the Finger Bearer showed up and took him into its domain.
Itadori and Kugisaki shared a long glance. Megumi didn’t have to look up to know it was laced with pity, the thing he resented the most.
“I’ll call Ijichi-san to drive us back to school. I’m near the gates if you need me since the signal here is too shitty for a phone call.” Kugisaki got up and waved a hand at the two boys, jogging lightly to the series of stairs and disappearing by the corner, the clatter of her shoes drumming Megumi’s hearings.
Megumi closed his eyes to rest, yet they were forced to snap open as two sturdy arms circled around his back and to under his knees, and not even a second later Megumi found himself close to Itadori’s chest, cheek bumping against the blood-stained gakuran as he was hauled upwards from the floor, bridal-styled. Expectant, Megumi lifted his gaze, and met two pairs of crimson orbs glinting alike to flames under the dim lights of the hallway.
“Sukuna.” Megumi croaked out, and Sukuna’s eyes softened noticeably.
“I got you, little wolf.” The King of Curses cooed in a voice too heavy and guttural to be sincere, but Megumi knew better. He had always known better. He snaked a hand to Megumi’s scalp, holding him firmly in place as he started to carry him upstairs and outside the abandoned hospital, out to the moonlight’s lambency.
Sukuna huffed a breath as he dropped himself against a tree trunk, lowering Megumi along until he was seated neatly on his lap, face directing to each other’s. Megumi was helpless to stop his blush, the looming shadow of the lush tree posed no hideaway for him. Sukuna stared at him rather amusedly, Megumi tried to search for the reason in the ocean of his peculiar set of eyes.
Because no matter from which angle he looked at, Megumi was drowning.
“Good job for retrieving my tenth finger, my little wolf.” Sukuna brought the back of his fingers to caress Megumi’s cheek, fouled with dirt and sweat and blood that Megumi hated since they tainted the curse’s ragged skin. “You’re halfway complete by now, it won’t be too long until you get all of the fingers.”
Megumi nodded and allowed the realization to swim hollowly in his mind, trying to not think of what would happen when someday Itadori had eaten all of Sukuna’s fingers. What else waited for Itadori but execution? His sender to the afterlife would be Gojou-sensei, which was equivalent to the Angel of Death himself. Even with looks of promising nirvana yet heart of clandestine whims, Itadori never had qualms against his executor.
(“As long as it’s Gojou-sensei, then it’ll be fine, Fushiguro. I believe in him.” Itadori told him once, tone as soft as cotton and smile as fond as flower petals.
Megumi believed in him too, more than he willed himself to acknowledge, but never to this extent. To Itadori’s extent. Megumi believed and trusted Gojou-sensei to keep him safe, he believed and trusted Gojou-sensei to teach him and make him stronger, he believed and trusted Gojou-sensei to ensure he lived at least a fulfilling life, but to believe and trust Gojou-sensei for ending his life?
No, Megumi’s belief and trust in Gojou-sensei didn’t-- never run that far.
Because Megumi rested those in someone else, no matter how twisted that someone was)
“Megumi, look at me.” Sukuna’s deep voice cut his train of thoughts, and Megumi was rewarded with a proud grin as his eyes found the curse’s marked face again. “That’s more like it. You’ve fought well tonight, but human’s body is weak. You need to rest, there’s no need to tire your pretty head as well.”
“Sorry, it’s the adrenaline.” What a feeble lie, but Megumi opted to hide it by lifting the curse’s finger to his line of sight, watching as those four eyes crinkled with barely contained enthrallment. “Here you go, Sukuna.”
“Thanks, love.” Sukuna crooned, his voice an alluring melody before his tongue, long and sharp that reminded Megumi of a velociraptor’s, curled around his own finger and swallowed it down his throat. Megumi eyed the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed by the action as his curse markings seemed to darken by itself, intensified by another fuel of power that was stored in that single finger.
“My obedient little wolf, you did a great job.” If Sukuna were to never cease pouring sweet, sweet praises from that fanged mouth of his, Megumi might just melt on his lap. He blinked as Sukuna placed his palm on his forehead, slightly frowning before it relaxed by a gentle press of lips on the whitened skin.
And suddenly, Sukuna’s manifested mouth on his palm was anywhere on Megumi’s face, deepening his blush even further to the point his skin was gleaming with soft pink. His lips pecked his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his temple, both of his cheeks, his jawline, then Megumi’s own lips, each contact sending positive cursed energy into his body to heal his injuries.
Megumi was drowning, drowning deep in Sukuna’s energy and kisses.
How considerate of him, and Megumi thought if Sukuna commented on his racing heartbeat, then he wouldn’t voice out a single word of protest. Not that he could in the moment, not with Sukuna’s tongue prodding past his lips and scooped in movement so swift. Megumi had been reduced into a puddle of mushy blankets on the curse’s lap, and he didn’t care less as he pressed back just as eagerly.
“Now you’re getting a bit spoiled.” Yet Sukuna let Megumi reciprocate their kiss for a moment before they parted, a string of saliva forming a loose bridge from Megumi’s swollen lips to Sukuna’s palm. It broke as Sukuna stroke Megumi’s damp abyss locks by sweat and blood from his exorcism earlier, blunt fingers waking gentle sweeps on his sinciput, and Megumi made a questioning hum.
“You cut your nails.” Megumi stated, a little taken by surprise.
Sukuna arched an eyebrow. “You’re the one who told me to, are you not?”
“I do, but I never thought you would actually do it.”
“You asked me to, little wolf, because you said they hurt your delicate head when I petted you. Are you not satisfied with it now?”
“Quite the contrary.” Megumi tilted his head so his lips would touch Sukuna’s inner wrist, slightly quivering, lingering on the twin black bracelets painting his skin. “Thank you, Sukuna. I’m glad.” Megumi enunciated, and he meant it. It wasn’t often for people to simply listen to him. In most cases it was Megumi who listened, forcibly, to others. This and that, right and wrong, they barked only nonsense to Megumi’s ears which didn’t even wish to hear.
This and that.
Megumi was his own person, and already a teenager at that too. He could even proudly say he was the more mature friend in his circle. The only one with sane braincell, Maki-senpai once cackled. Megumi could make decisions without having those people trailing on his back. His knowledge about jujutsu world exceeded most since he had both Gojou and Zenin providing him with such, so they didn’t have to tell Megumi anymore.
Right and wrong.
Those concepts never really mattered again ever since Megumi first fell into Sukuna’s awaiting embrace, ever since Megumi allowed the curse to map his body with heated touches and demanding kisses, ever since Megumi willed to take every blow from other curses just to keep Sukuna’s fingers secure before he handed them over for their original owner.
The line of right and wrong blurred every time Megumi drew it and studied it. Megumi was never convinced where he currently stood as he looked below to his feet. Was he standing on the right side? Was he standing on the wrong side? Or was he even really standing on the ground this whole time?
Wasn’t Megumi drowning?
Wasn’t Megumi diving into the bloody wonders of Sukuna’s eyes?
Wasn’t Megumi melting into Sukuna’s warmth?
Wasn’t Megumi floating on cloud nine at the fact that Sukuna listened?
“What cause this sudden distress, I wonder?” Sukuna wiped something hot and wet from Megumi’s face, and only when he realized that he had been crying. Megumi had been crying, and he resented the grim look on the curse’s face.
“Nothing, and don’t look at me like that.” Megumi’s voice threatened to waver, yet he pushed Sukuna’s hand away gently from his cheekbones, aware that the curse could grow more suspicious if his movements were in a haste. Thus he composed himself to stay calm, to stop thinking of how overwhelmed he was, and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes with his sleeves.
“Like what?” Sukuna prompted, upper pair of eyes narrowing in puzzlement.
“Like you pity my poor control of emotions.” Megumi heaved a dry chuckle, lips curling into a wry smile. He was meant to say it as sarcasm, to avert this topic far from Sukuna’s attention, but then the curse gripped his chin to lock their gazes together. Megumi’s still shimmering emeralds and Sukuna’s calculating rubies, and the King of Curses spoke in a hushed whisper.
“Pity? Of course you’re pitiful. My little wolf is such a mess of a human who cares less about himself, and prefers to set everyone aside in order for them to not get hurt. Your lack of self-importance is worth pitying for, because a human like that is too easy, too fragile, and too weak.” Sukuna’s words should’ve stabbed through Megumi’s soul, and but it never did. Rather, those words distinguished his initial flame of indignation, and Megumi casted his gaze away in shame with a scowl.
What’s wrong in being caring for my friends?
What’s wrong in wanting for them to live?
What’s wrong in willing to sacrifice myself for them?
“But me pitying you? I never do. Not even once I ever pitied you, Fushiguro Megumi, because what you need isn’t pity, but trust and acceptance, am I right?”
Megumi froze.
Trust and acceptance?
Sukuna chuckled as if hearing his thoughts, trailing the dull arch of his fingertips along Megumi’s temple, down to his jaw and to his neck behind his collar. His touches were gentle and feather-light akin to a reverence. “You want people to trust your abilities when you can’t yourself. You want people to accept you for being who you are and setting the limits of your power as you please. Even if you failed to meet their expectations, you still wanted them to accept and trust you, to understand and stay by your side despite of it.
That’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, isn’t it? It’s alright to feel like that, little wolf. Only I who will satisfy your innermost needs. Nobody else would, and I’ll stay with you as long as I can, Fushiguro Megumi.”
Megumi bit his bottom lip, the curse’s words twisting a dagger in his bleeding heart and knocking the air out of his lungs. Unable to contain himself anymore, he cupped Sukuna’s face in his palms as he gave a proper kiss on his actual lips this time. Scorching tears leaked into their kiss, but Megumi couldn’t care less. A stammering sniffle slithered into their kiss, but Sukuna couldn’t care less. Megumi just let his feelings overflew into their kiss, and it was all he cared about.
Sukuna slid a calloused hand past his gakuran, ember fingertips dancing on the side of his body teasingly. Megumi gasped softly in their kiss, and he pulled back to be greeted by the blazing hunger and want in those crimson eyes. Megumi did a full-body shudder. It felt good, to be wanted with so much passion like that. No one ever saw Megumi that way, and it felt really good, so addicting. Megumi disliked anything involving alcohol and drugs, but he would make an exception for this one, since the addiction was too delicious to miss.
“Are you seriously want to do that here?” Megumi questioned, voice back to normal (not fully) as his hand pinched Sukuna’s cheek, and it was pretty effective to halt the curse’s gesture. He’s so soft, and Megumi wasn’t talking about his skin just now. “It’s midnight, Sukuna, and we’re going back to school soon.”
Sukuna clicked his tongue, clearly displeased, but he withdrew his hand from Megumi’s chest only to have it traveling south, and Megumi smiled exasperatedly. He flicked the curse’s forehead as another warning, ignoring how bothered he was from the searing touch. “Stop it, Sukuna. Not here.”
“In your dorm then.” Sukuna drawled out, promising so much more behind it.
Megumi huffed, pursuing his lips. The curse could be stubborn at some times, he should look at a mirror first before he chided Megumi. “Nope. Itadori must be as tired as I am, and I don’t want him to watch you fucking my brains out at one in the morning. He needs rest too.”
As if on cue, Kugisaki called out for him and Itadori from the gates. Megumi slid down from Sukuna’s lap after a hard slap to his naughty hand, and Itadori winced as he regained back the control of his body. “That stings! Why did you slap my hand, Fushiguro? I couldn’t see or hear anything when Sukuna switched with me! What did he do? He has really got stronger, huh? But it still hurts!”
Megumi patted Itadori’s back as they walked side by side to approach Kugisaki and Ijichi who had pulled over his car on the hospital’s parking lot. “Next time, Itadori, tell Sukuna to behave.”
“Huh? Alright then…”
“Thanks, Itadori.”
Megumi’s hand dropped to his side, the back of his palm grazing with Itadori’s, and a traitorous blush crept onto his face as he felt a soft, fleeting peck being pressed there. Itadori didn’t seem to realize it, but he did take notice of Megumi’s flushed face, and he asked. “What’s wrong, Fushiguro?”
“… Nothing.” Megumi breathed out.
Kugisaki took the front seat beside Ijichi as they drove back to school, Itadori and Megumi tucking themselves in as comfy as they could on the backseat. Light snores filled the car along with faint whirrs of the air conditioner, and Megumi took it as his cue to have a short nap. He recalled warmth coating his worn out figure with affection he had never felt before, and it felt so nice.
And as Megumi woke up, his cheek was against Itadori’s shoulder yet there was Sukuna’s arm circling his abdomen, keeping him close and still.
It was the closest thing Megumi could get as his refuge.