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Megumi doesn’t realize who his soulmate is until after his fate is sealed.
How was he supposed to notice? He thought that the blooming shadow etchings over Itadori’s skin, mirroring Megumi’s own injuries, were the caked blood of the curse. It’s not like he could look at them up close—and then they mingled with Sukuna’s tattoos. Finally, Itadori iss unconscious, and Megumi pleads for his life—and then his breath catches as he finally realizes what those dark markings are. They indicate where Megumi’s skin has split.
Gojo follows his gaze and gives him a knowing smile.
It’s not like Megumi has anyone to ask about his predicament;
The Zen’in clan doesn’t put much stock in soulmates. Their belief is that soulmates are just a way for the soul to offload excess positive energy, nothing more. They’re a resource to be mined. The bond persists even before soulmates meet, and that first contact does nothing but allow it to show up on the skin with every injury, so what’s the point?
Maki hasn’t met hers yet. Panda won’t have one. Toge has his, but Yuuta’s overseas and Toge can’t really explain anything or give in-depth advice. He can communicate it just fine, he’s just not good with people.
Gojo has a blooming greyed-out mark covering half his torso in a portion of a perfect circle. The pattern is unsettling—when Megumi first saw it, he thought it was a curse scar. Soulmarks fade with the wounds that cause them, but a killing blow lingers on the skin of the one left behind.
If Megumi didn’t know any better, he might think that such a scar was left by Gojo’s own technique.
He won't tell Itadori about their soulbond. It would only be a burden, as they don’t know each other that well. That’s how he rationalizes it.
Megumi would never be scared of love. He’s always looked forward to meeting his soulmate.
On their first day of training with the second years, Maki accidentally nicks Kugisaki’s hand with a training sword that’s just a little bit too sharp where the blade has splintered.
“Sorry,” Maki says.
Megumi stares at her hand—not Kugisaki’s hand. Maki’s hand.
“There’s something on your hand, Maki,” he says.
Maki looks at it, and her eyes widen. Megumi steps closer, his half-assed fistfight with Itadori forgotten.
“Hey, what’s that?” Itadori asks. “Is that a tattoo? It’s a cool design.”
It is a cool design. Kugisaki’s mark on Maki alternates jagged edges and pretty curves. There’s no cohesive image from a wound that small, but it’s absolutely a soulmark.
“Wait, we’re soulmates?” Kugisaki says incredulously. “Cool! I always knew my soulmate was going to be a badass.”
“Soulmate?” Itadori repeats. “That’s a thing?”
“Every jujutsu sorcerer has a soulmate,” Kugisaki says. “Not all soulmates are jujutsu sorcerers, though. They’re two people who are compatible in some way, and once they meet, any wounds that break the skin on one appear in some way on the other.” She grabs Maki’s hand to show Itadori the little soulmark. “Like this.”
“There’s a lot of superstition about them,” Maki says. “The Zen’ins think that soulmates are more powerful together, so they try to keep them separated because they’re assholes. They think that soulmates have something to do with positive energy overflow.” She gestures to Fushiguro. “He was born on the winter solstice, so the Zen’ins really wanted him. There’s a superstition that winter solstice babies have a summer solstice soulmate or something, blah blah blah.”
“Yo, cool! I was born on the summer solstice!” Itadori scratches his chin. “So do I have a soulmate?”
“Only if you’re paired with a jujutsu sorcerer,” Kugisaki says, “since you weren’t born a sorcerer.”
“I had some weird marks on my head for a bit after I ate the finger,” Itadori muses.
Maki looks at Fushiguro with a raised eyebrow. Fushiguro draws a hand across his throat.
“Weird,” she says flatly.
Megumi stares at himself in the mirror.
There’s a faded brown etching of branches and flowers in the center of his chest, marking in ironic beauty the place from which Itadori’s heart was torn.
Kugisaki and Maki will have a great future together, and all Megumi has is a woodcut scar to eternally remind him of what he lost. Sukuna’s handprint that he’ll take with him forever.
Gojo is the same. Gojo lost someone—the faded soulmark attests to that. But Megumi would die before going to him for advice on love.
He loved Itadori, he realizes.
It’s comforting that the pattern is distinctly Itadori. There’s no indication of Sukuna’s influence, no sharp angles or gleaming grinning teeth. It was Itadori and Itadori alone that Fushiguro loves.
Megumi wakes up the next morning, and his soulmark is gone.
He freezes in the middle of putting on his shirt. His chest is bare. There’s no scar there. No indication that his soulbond ever existed.
“What the fuck,” Megumi says aloud.
Soulmarks only fade with the wound that caused them, and there’s absolutely no force in the jujutsu world that can erase the soulmark of a killing blow.
Fact one: soulmarks only fade with healing.
Fact two: Megumi’s soulmark is gone.
Fact three: the wounds of the dead cannot heal.
Conclusion: Itadori is alive.
“Son of a bitch,” Megumi grumbles.
There’s probably another explanation. After all, no one’s ever been soulbonded to someone possessed by Sukuna. Itadori is definitely dead, and Megumi’s just grasping at whatever feeble hope he can because he can’t accept his failure.
Could Sukuna raise the dead? Could he really revive his host? Probably, but he’d have no reason to.
Megumi puts the whole thing out of his mind. Their bond was most likely a fluke, a cruel trick played by Sukuna once he picked his host. Megumi isn’t letting Sukuna hurt him again.
For a while, that seems to be the end of it. Megumi’s skin is unmarked as if he never even met Itadori.
They’re sitting in the common room with the second years, watching a movie that Megumi has never seen and doesn’t want to. There are subtitles on, because Kugisaki and Maki can’t help heckling.
Kugisaki’s sound roast of the main actor peters out mid-punchline as she stares at Megumi.
“What?” he snaps.
“Your hands,” she says incredulously. “You never told us you met your soulmate!”
Megumi looks at his hands and can barely process what he sees. At first he thinks they’re dye stains or something. But it’s clear—his hands bear perfectly round swirls on the backs and palms, almost like a jellyfish or the buttons of their uniforms. Like spikes were driven through his soulmate’s hands.
Except his soulmate is dead.
“What the fuck,” Megumi says aloud.
“Bonito flakes,” Toge says inquisitively.
“Who’s your soulmate?” Maki demands. “Whoever they are, they’re getting their ass kicked.”
Without replying, Megumi pulls off his t-shirt. He has to check.
“Holy shit,” Kugisaki says.
His soulmate is full of holes, apparently. The round marks attest to that.
“So who is it?” Panda asks. “You should go help them. Those aren’t good places for wounds.”
“My soulmate is dead,” Megumi says.
“Itadori?” Kugisaki demands.
Megumi nods.
“Well, obviously he’s not dead,” Maki says. “You only get one soulmate.”
“I literally watched his heart get ripped out,” Megumi tells her, his tone kept carefully flat and clinical. He’s very good at his flat affect when it comes to upsetting topics, and the only person who can reliably call him on it is dead.
“Yeah, but what about Sukuna?” Kugisaki asks. “He could’ve done something, right? If—“
“Stop,” Megumi demands. “I’m calling Gojo.”
He leaves the room without even picking up his shirt and dials Gojo’s number with shaking hands.
“Hello?” Gojo says after the fourth ring. “I just stepped out of a meeting, so make it long so I have an excuse to not go back in.”
“Is Itadori alive?” Megumi asks, getting straight to the point out of spite.
“What on Earth would give you that idea? Didn’t you watch him die?”
Megumi clenches his fist.
“I sure hope you think he’s dead,” he says. “I know that even you wouldn’t be so cruel as to lie about my soulmate being dead. Only someone who didn’t give a shit about me or common human decency would do that.”
“Ah, so you do think I have common human decency! Why do you think he’s alive?”
“Because the death mark is gone. And I have new soul marks.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know why that is. Ask Nanami. Maybe he knows.”
“Why would Nanami know anything?”
Megumi likes Nanami well enough—they can sit in a room together for hours without talking, and it’s rather relaxing—but doubts he knows anything about soulmates.
“Oh, looks like we’re breaking up!” Gojo says cheerily. “And I really have to get back to this very important meeting. And, ah, just to be safe, how about you keep this on the down low. Nothing good would happen if the higher-ups thought Itadori might still be alive. Bye!”
Gojo hangs up, and Megumi scowls at his phone. He calls Nanami, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Megumi runs his fingers over the circular soulmarks. They’re warmer than the rest of his skin, and they give him traitorous hope.
Gojo won’t tell him anything. He can’t reach Nanami. If Itadori is alive and injured, he’d have no reason to go rogue. Based on Gojo’s comment, he probably wanted to hide from the higher-ups—
Megumi bites the inside of his cheek. He’s getting way ahead of himself. At this rate, he’ll be crushed when he finds out that Itadori is still dead.
Well, whatever. He can find out for sure. If Itadori is still alive, he’ll be going to Shoko as soon as he comes back. And Shoko’s infirmary has a locker that never gets used and is just big enough for a person.
Megumi’s hunch pays off.
Through the slits of the locker, he watches Nanami walk through the door carrying a familiar pink-haired boy in his arms.
“What happened to him?” Shoko asks incredulously.
“I’m full of holes,” Itadori says. It’s his voice. It’s not Sukuna’s. “A little help?”
Megumi just stands in the locker, silent and stock-still. He can’t move. It’s Itadori. His eyes aren’t deceiving him. Itadori is alive.
Shoko treats him as if this isn’t the first mission he’s returned to. Megumi’s hands are shaking.
He’s actually going to kill Gojo. He’s going to punch Itadori in the face.
What the fuck?
Shoko finishes, and Itadori leaves with Nanami. Shoko steps out for a cigarrette, and Megumi sneaks out of the infirmary through the window.
Megumi spends about an hour trying to deduce where Itadori could possibly be hiding on campus before he decides that he’ll never find him, so he may as well just use the most obvious and stupid method.
He opens his phone and scrolls down to Itadori’s number.
>I know you’re alive you bastard. I saw you getting healed by Shoko just now. If you don’t text me back by tomorrow afternoon I’m telling Kugisaki and giving her a Home Depot’s worth of nails
Then, because he’s tired and angry and his judgement isn’t the best, he takes a picture of his naked chest, mostly faded marks still on show, and sends it.
>You can’t fool your soulmate into thinking you’re dead if you’re going to keep getting into fights. Asshole.
>Also are you okay?
>You were full of holes
>Please tell me you’re okay
>If you die again I will kill you
>Did you even care about how worried we were?
He lies down with his phone on the pillow next to him. He doesn’t go to sleep for several hours.
Megumi wakes up and immediately realizes he’s not alone. He sits bolt upright, and Itadori is sitting on the side of his bed. Megumi just stares at him, mouth slightly ajar.
“Hey,” Itadori says sheepishly.
Megumi then remembers that he’s mad, and reconfigures his features into a suitable glare.
“So, uh,” Itadori says awkwardly, “you never told me we were soulmates…”
“You bastard,” Megumi says vehemently. “Apologize right now or I’m never letting you pet my dog again.”
“I’m sorry,” Itadori says. He has the decency to look guilty. “Gojo said I had to so the higher-ups wouldn’t find out, since they sent us on that mission to get rid of me.”
“Since when do you care about Gojo’s rules?”
Itadori’s eyes trail down to Megumi’s chest, to the light dustings of soulmarks still present there.
“You’re right,” he admits. “If it was just Gojo, I would have come back. But…I couldn’t face everyone. Especially not you. Not until I was strong enough to never put you in danger like that again.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So?” Megumi asks. “When were you ever going to tell us?”
“At the start of the exchange event. Or when I was strong enough to save people alone.” Itadori gives Megumi a smile that’s obviously covering for something. “Now it’s…at the start of the exchange event. Would be later, if you didn’t need a teammate.”
“What happened?” Megumi asks quietly.
“I don’t want to lose again,” Itadori replies. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough to win.”
Megumi leans over and turns Itadori’s right hand palm-up. Sure enough, there’s a little black mark on his finger where Megumi got a papercut the previous morning.
“That’s why sorcerers have soulmates,” Megumi says. “So they don’t have to do anything alone.”
Then, because he’s emotionally hungover, he presses a kiss to the soulmark. Itadori’s breath catches.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, do you…do you mean…”
And then Itadori starts crying.
Megumi is slightly peeved at this, because he wanted to be mad at Itadori for a little bit longer, but it’s a lost cause now. He takes Itadori into his arms, allowing him to cry freely into his naked shoulder. Itadori is so warm, almost to a feverish degree.
“It’s all right,” Megumi mutters awkwardly.
Itadori’s fingers are entwined in his hair. It’s very nice. It’s been a very long time since he was touched like this.
“I’m sorry,” Itadori mumbles. “I was scared. I didn’t think I could face you.”
Megumi’s hand creeps to Itadori’s neck to check his pulse. It’s beating strong and fast.
“I really don’t want to lose you again,” Megumi admits.
“You won’t,” Itadori says. “I promise. I’ll get strong.”
“Don’t make promises you don’t know you can keep.”
“You’re right. I should probably talk less of a big game, huh?” Itadori laughs shakily. “I’ll try my best, all right?”
“You better.”
Itadori pressess a kiss to Megumi’s pulse point, like a silent prayer for the continued pumping of his heart. Megumi gasps.
“Would you like to kiss me properly?” he asks quietly.
Itadori would, and Itadori does.