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He’s being carried, Megumi thinks.
That’s the first thing he registers once the ringing in his ears and the blur in his eyes fades. The sky swims above him, and there’s hands…hands on his back, on his legs. Underneath him. It’s all foggy, and his thoughts have no edges to grasp.
He doesn’t know what happened. Maybe it has something to do with the distant, static pain in his chest. It doesn’t really hurt. It’s just the idea of hurt.
A woman is talking—yelling, maybe. He’s jostled, and he gasps at the sudden stab in his chest. His vision goes white.
Ah, Megumi realizes distantly, I’m going into shock.
His arm is dangling uselessly, flopping as whoever’s carrying him runs. The world is spinning, and he can’t make out any words.
“H-hey,” he stutters out. He can’t even hear his own speech—he just feels it in the bones of his jaw. “What…”
Someone says something. Megumi smells cedar. It’s familiar. His heartbeat slows down a little, but still pounds painfully in his neck. It’s at once too light and too strong. His whole chest is wet. Was it raining?
The carrying stops as he’s set onto something soft, and Megumi opens eyes he hadn’t even realized were closed.
“…distract him…shock…” a woman says, among other things. Maybe it was just Megumi’s imagination.
A face appears above him. Distraught, familiar, and achingly handsome.
“You’re beautiful,” Megumi slurs. He’s quite proud of himself for getting those words out coherently.
“He’s lost his mind,” another woman says.
Someone’s taking his shirt off. Megumi frowns. Hopefully it’s the pretty boy, otherwise he might get annoyed.
“Focus on me,” the boy says. “Fushiguro—“
“M’gum…Megumi,” Megumi corrects him.
“Right, Megumi. Just listen to my voice, okay? Can you do that?”
Megumi smiles contentedly. “Yeah. Nice voice.”
The world has stopped spinning now that he’s staying still. There isn’t wind rushing past making everything inaudible. He has an anchor now, an axis for the rest of reality. Someone grabs his hand with firm, strong fingers. Megumi tries to grab back, but his body isn’t cooperating with his mind.
“You’re safe,” the boy says. His hair is the color of a newborn sunrise, and it helps Megumi remember what colors are. Not that he needs to see any other ones. “Shoko’s treating you. You’re back at Jujutsu Tech.”
“You’re really pretty,” Megumi mutters. The words are hard to get out, but they have to be said.
“Jesus Christ,” another voice announces. It’s the yelling woman from earlier. Megumi knows her. He remembers iron nails. “Shoko, I think he’s dying.”
Kugisaki! That’s her name. Kugisaki. And the pretty boy…no, he definitely doesn’t know his name. If Megumi knew his name, that would mean he’s known this angel for a while, and they aren’t dating yet. That’s unacceptable.
The hand squeezes his. He can sleep here. It’s fine to relax. His eyes start to drift closed.
“Shoko,” Kugisaki demands, “hurry up!”
“This is a complicated curse,” Shoko snaps back. “I have to heal it gradually or he’ll go into shock. Like a bad blood transfusion.”
“He’s already in shock! Did you hear what he just said?”
“Megumi, open your eyes,” the beautiful boy orders. “Don’t go to sleep on us!”
Megumi’s eyes snap open. He’ll do anything for that voice.
“This technique feeds off of positive energy,” Shoko continues. It all sounds very important, but Megumi doesn’t know what a technique is. “I can’t just pump my reverse technique into him and make it all better.”
“Megumi, do you know who I am?” the beautiful boy asks.
A smile creeps onto Megumi’s face. “No. You’re really pretty, though. Most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
“Shoko, he doesn’t know who I am!”
Megumi realizes, horrified, that he must have forgotten his boyfriend. This guy must be his boyfriend. There’s no way that Megumi would feel this much love for someone he wasn’t dating. He tries to sit up, but then realizes that the liquid all over his chest is in fact blood.
His tongue tastes of iron.
There’s a strong hand on his shoulder, holding him down. It’s a nice hand. Feels safe.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi mumbles. “I love you.”
The pain in his chest is fading, slowly but surely. He feels safe here. His body is feeling better, his mind is slowly coming back into focus, and his friend and boyfriend are here.
“Itadori,” Megumi breaths, remembering the name only as he says it. “Hey.”
“Oh, yay! You remembered!”
“Is this what he’d be like drunk?” Kugisaki asks. “I’m never taking him to a party.”
“Gojo gave him some fireball once and he fell asleep on his dogs,” Shoko says.
Megumi frowns. He doesn’t remember that.
“How much fireball?” Itadori asks.
“Three shots.”
“Three shots?” Itadori repeats incredulously.
Megumi takes a deep breath, and the air tastes like antiseptic. Yes, he’s in the infirmary. Shoko is here. Itadori is here. Kugisaki is here. His chest hurts, but it’s not a deep hurt—it feels like there are roots just below his skin, spread all over his torso. It tingles with the familiar burn of Shoko’s reverse technique.
“Are we dating?” he asks.
“We are not,” Itadori says.
“Shit,” Megumi mutters. “Do you want to?”
“Don’t answer that, Itadori,” Shoko cuts in. “He’s not going to remember any of this.”
“But I absolutely will,” Kugisaki says. “Mr. Diet Sasuke is never living this down.”
Itadori puts a hand on Megumi’s forehead, and he practically purrs in satisfaction. Nice hands.
“He’s got a fever,” Itadori notes.
“That tracks,” Shoko replies.
And then the curse dies.
Megumi feels it in an instant. The roots beneath his skin are gone and he has barely a second of relief before he’s hit with a wave of pure, unfiltered pain.
Someone screams—no, Megumi screams, his body finally able to move, and his spine arches off the bed. His vision blurs. He can’t breathe.
He is Megumi Fushiguro, and he is in agony.
“Heal him!” Itadori demands, and Megumi winces. Shit. He knows who that is now.
Megumi clamps his jaw shut, but can’t stop a pitiful whine from escaping. His knuckles hurt from gripping Itadori’s hand too hard.
Healing spreads through him like fire, and Megumi gasps. It’s like lava in his veins. He’ll never get used to it.
Finally, it’s over. The stabbing pain of the wound is now just a dull ache, and Megumi is sweaty, exhausted, and regrettably lucid.
“Ow,” he mutters.
He remembers what happened—the supposedly routine mission, the unexpected first-grade that popped out of nowhere, pushing Itadori out of the way. Then it’s a blur for a bit. But he remembers what he said to Itadori.
Fuck.
“Please disregard anything I said,” Megumi says. “I wasn’t in my right mind. Just forget it.”
“I wish I could,” Kugisaki says. “Sappy isn’t a good look on you.”
He’s still holding Itadori’s hand, and he very much wants to keep doing so. He should let go. He should really let go, but his chest still hurts and he doesn’t want to.
“The wound is closed,” Shoko says. “He’ll be mostly fine by tomorrow, but I’m prescribing three days of bed rest here and another week of light activity. That means no missions. If Gojo tries to send him on one, send him to me and I’ll make him fear God.”
“Hey, Shoko,” Kugisaki says in her plotting voice. “Let’s go get some soda from the vending machines.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Shoko deadpans.
“Hey,” Megumi protests. “Hey, wait.”
“Look after him, Itadori,” Shoko orders on her way out. She closes the door behind her.
Megumi debates the pros and cons of pretending to fall asleep.
“Hey,” Itadori says, “I’m glad you’re all right. I was really worried.”
Itadori must have carried him here, and Megumi was too loopy to appreciate it. A tragedy.
“So, uh,” Itadori says awkwardly, “you sure…said some stuff.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you definitely did. You told me I was beautiful.”
“You are,” Megumi says immediately, and then winces. His efforts to be more honest with Itadori have backfired by making the truth an instinct. “In, uh. In a bro way.”
Itadori brushes his hair out of his eyes, and Megumi averts them. That touch is so tender.
“Would you like some soup?” Itadori asks.
Megumi blinks. “Soup?”
“Yeah. Some broth. I used to make it for my grandpa before…before he had to go to the hospital.”
“That sounds really nice,” Megumi admits.
“Okay, well, I’ll have to wait until Kugisaki gets back. I’ll make her watch you while I make it.”
“Just do it tomorrow,” Megumi mutters. “I think I’m about to fall asleep.”
He closes his eyes, and as he drifts away, he hears Itadori’s voice.
“You’re beautiful too, for the record.”