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Itadori can’t sleep. Insomnia brought on by the string of thoughts holding his tired mind captive.
Why? Why did my grandfather tell me to save others? To be strong for the people who couldn’t…what if I’m weak? No, I know I’m weak. Even my physical strength can only take me so far. I can train, strengthen my cursed energy, and punch the living shit out of what stands in my way. But that doesn’t make up for the constant state of chaos that runs in my veins, lives in my head, takes shape in another set of eyes and mouths that speak at will.
I’ve died and come back to life at the hands of another. Watched the people I care about in pain, sinking into madness, and at what cost? Because I swallowed a finger. Because I wanted to fulfill my grandfather’s dying wish. Because I thought…I felt I could make a change. Make things better. But my failures look me in the eye and tell me it’s my fault. The blood shed, the lives lost, the bonds severing right in front of me.
Am I too stubborn to see it? To admit that behind every smile, every breath I’m able to take, there’s regret? There’s pain and no end in sight. Even my friends, the people I’ve claimed to protect, are willing to die to protect me, when all of this is a consequence of my doing. Megumi thinks that I don’t know. That even though he saved my life, his ability, his untapped potential will end him if he chooses to use it.
Does he think I wouldn’t understand? That I’m too selfish to comprehend why he would need to do that? No. It’s not me who’s selfish, it’s him. If anyone can stop this from happening, stop me from continuing to fuck up everything in my path, it’s Megumi.
He stares at the ceiling. Hands behind his head, pulling at his unruly pink strands of hair before he decides to sit up. The number of times he’s knocked on Megumi’s door in the middle of the night is past the point of bothering to keep count. But this time it’s for a different reason.
**************************************************************
Megumi can’t sleep. The chain of events confining him to his own mental prison.
Two times. No, more than that. But the number doesn’t matter. The number of times someone has died for me is too high. What is it that’s worth keeping? My ability, the ability I never asked for that’s caused so much fucking pain. Even when I thought I was strong, I thought that strength could be used for the sake of others. But I was wrong. Apparently my entire idea of what strength is, has been wrong this entire time.
Apparently sacrificing myself for everyone else is not something that signifies the strength I have. I’m not physically strong like Itadori. I always considered myself to be intelligent but currently, actually for a while now, I’ve become less sure. I have my shikigami, I can train as often as I want, but that doesn’t stop the death, the constant string of pain it seems my life is threaded with. Where is it coming from, is it me? The decisions I’ve made, the people I’ve risked my life for…are they in more danger because of me?
Megumi’s eyes squeeze shut, tossing his arm over his eyes as his fists clench.
What is it all for? Itadori’s face hovers in his mind. His perfectly stupid grin beaming at him like a fucking stream of moonlight cutting through the inky black he’s found himself sinking in. It makes Megumi’s chest ache, gritting his teeth as hot tears start to well behind his eyes. Why does he always have to try to be a hero? He doesn’t owe me anything. He hardly knows anything about me. My sister, my fuckhead of a father, Gojo, everyone that’s ever given a shit about me gets hurt. So why the fuck does he try so hard? What the fuck does he want from me? If he really gave a shit. If he really cared, he would put this shit to rest. If anyone would do it, Yuuji would.
Megumi wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, crescent moon indentations in his palm, almost breaking the skin from clenching his fists. He sits up, letting his bare feet touch the ground, imagining the look on Yuuji’s face when he’s the one knocking on his door. It’s always been Yuuji that padded down the hallway, a soft couple of raps against the wooden door pulling a smirk across Megumi’s lips as he got out of bed to let him in.
This was when Megumi was a witness to the side of Itadori he buried. The weight of everything crashing down on him in the dead of night and they had that understanding. That deeper knowledge that as much as they fought, clawed, bled for redemption during the day. They only ever found sanctuary with each other. Megumi never voiced his pain to him but he didn’t have to, their common ground found in conversation about anything else, in the presence of the other, in the rhythmic breaths of one of them finally slipping off to sleep.
Megumi knew Yuuji would understand.
**************************************************************
Itadori’s door flew open before Megumi could even knock. His eyes wide at the sight of Megumi’s tearstained face.
“Megumi? What-“
“Itadori, I need you to do something for me,” Megumi cuts him off, he needs Itadori to listen. If he lets him ask any questions beforehand, he’d be forced to think about his decision, and Megumi didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to think about anything anymore.
Itadori searches the raven haired boy’s face, the moonlight whispering through the window behind him, illuminating his red rimmed eyes, shadowed by dark circles that signify he hasn’t slept. He notices his jaw clenching, making the hard lines of his face even more prominent. Something’s wrong. Itadori looks up to meet Megumi’s gaze, reading him before stepping aside, watching as he moves past to stand in the center of the dimly lit room. The conversation he was going to have with him will have to wait, the tightness in his chest growing as he notes the grim line on Megumi’s face, the stiffness in his body.
Something is really fucking wrong. Itadori can’t recall a time that Megumi has asked him for a favor, and he definitely can’t recall a time Megumi has knocked on his door in the middle of the night. It’s usually him that makes the trip down the hall on sleepless nights, Megumi’s presence usually enough to keep his restlessness at bay. Was I being selfish coming to him for help? Never thinking about what he might be feeling? Itadori’s thoughts pull him in every direction, fraying the edges of the thin thread that’s barely holding him together.
He closes the door behind him, keeping his eyes on Megumi the entire time, looking for something, anything that would tell him this would be something he could fix. Whatever he’s feeling right now, is bringing a side of him to the surface Itadori hasn’t seen before tonight. He walks toward him, his focus fully encapsulated on Megumi’s movements, his tense shoulders, blue eyes cast towards the floor. Why won’t he look at me?
Itadori opens his mouth to speak, to ask him what’s wrong, what he can do to help, but Megumi’s voice stops him.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Itadori’s brow furrows, Megumi’s words sending a wave of confusion through him, his response flying past his lips without thinking.
“Look at you like what?” He asks, the air around him getting thicker, his body tightening in preparation for what Megumi is about to say.
“Like you think you can save me,” Megumi says, turning his head away from where Itadori stood, as if the possibility of seeing his face would make him break.
“What are you talking about…” Itadori starts, taking a step forward to erase the space between them. Megumi’s face, he needed to see his face; panic begins its slow burn in his gut as he came closer. What the fuck is he saying right now?
He barely gets within arms reach of him before Megumi’s slender hand is on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Listen to me,” Megumi mutters, his voice steady and low as his fingers grip tighter onto Itadori’s shoulder. His head hangs between them, keeping his face out of Itadori’s view.
It’s getting harder to breathe, Itadori’s skin prickling with fear from all the possibilities that could occur within the next few moments. He wants to know, he needs to know what Megumi is thinking right now. Megumi has always been more distant, always focusing their conversations on the curse living inside him, training to get stronger, never sugar coating his weaknesses to ensure Itadori had the best chance of survival. But he never divulged anything about himself, anything Itadori knew about him was discovered accidentally, and Megumi always brushed it off.
Itadori admired his strength, his honesty, his willingness to say the difficult things he needed to hear. They’d seen too much, lost too much, not to find comfort in each other, words weren’t necessary to communicate the understanding they had. Presence was enough, the warm sound of his voice during mindless, wandering conversations in the middle of the night was enough.
But this was different, Itadori could feel it in Megumi’s hand, fisting at the fabric of his shirt. He could hear it in the tightness of his voice, see it in the tears falling down his face when he finally looked up at him. The panic was no longer a slow burn, it was engulfing him. His pulse pounding in his ears as his fears were realized with Megumi’s next breath.
“Itadori, I need you…I need you to kill me.”
Itadori’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his mind goes blank. He heard what Megumi said, but he’s unable to comprehend the words in a way that makes sense. He couldn’t have heard him correctly. Itadori stares into his friends’ tear stained face, holding his cerulean gaze as he moves to grasp Megumi’s hand, still fisting the shirt at his shoulder.
“You need me….to do what?” He needed to hear it again. He needed to see Megumi’s lips form those words before he could believe he heard what he thought he heard.
Megumi’s face tightened, his jaw clenching before he turned toward him fully, his other hand flying out to grab Itadori’s other shoulder, pulling him towards him.
“You heard what I said, Itadori,” Megumi said through gritted teeth, glaring down into his amber eyes. “What do you not understand?”
As Itadori stared up at him, every thought he had before attempting to walk out of his room five minutes ago flooded his mind. How could he not see this coming? After everything that’s happened within the past few weeks, how did he not see the mask Megumi was wearing? The ocean of pain swelling underneath, threatening to consume him. Was he really so entangled in his own problems that he failed the one person he wanted to save the most? Idiot. I’m a fucking idiot. His hands drop, subconsciously clenching into fists. The anger he felt knowing he was selfish enough to want to ask Megumi to do the same thing, ravaging all that’s left of his previously calm demeanor.
“You’re fucking kidding me right?” Itadori asks, barely loud enough for Megumi to hear, lowering his head as the muscles in his arms tighten. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding-”
Megumi’s voice gets louder, interrupting the shorter boy’s response as he shakes him hard at the shoulders, “Does it seem like I’m fucking joking?! Everything, everyone I care about gets hurt because of ME,” Mugumi’s voice breaks, shaking Itadori again, trying to get him to look at him so Itadori can see, he has to see his logic, he has to look him in the eye and tell him he understands. But Itadori keeps his head down as words keep pouring out of Megumi’s mouth. “I’m tired of being a pawn, of everyone around me sacrificing themselves for me. I-“
Itadori’s fist slams into Megumi’s face before he can finish, sending him staggering backwards against the wall. His eyes widen as he doubles over, reaching up to feel the blood trickling out of his mouth. Did he just…? Everything around him begins to blur.
“Why?” Megumi mutters, staring at the crimson coating on his fingertips, the familiar metallic taste of blood staining his tongue. Itadori doesn’t speak, unmoving aside from his shoulders, heaving with every breath, his knuckles blooming red already from the impact.
Megumi snaps his head up, his body moving in a flurry of rage, rushing Itadori, reaching out to grab a handful of his shirt. He crashes into him, slamming him against the wall across the room. “ANSWER ME!” Megumi screams, fisting Itadori’s shirt in both hands. The blood on his hands stains the white fabric as he stares down at the pink head of hair he’s wanted to run his hands through on so many nights.
He trusted him. He trusted him with his life. The only person on this god forsaken planet he’s ever felt this way about. So why?
“Why can’t you understand what I’m asking you?” Megumi’s voice is faltering, unraveling at the seams as he raises his voice. “You’ve been there. You’ve seen everything. If you gave a single shit about me-“
“If I gave a single shit about you, what?” Itadori looks up at Megumi, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’d fucking kill you?” He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the tears to fall as a broken smile spreads across his face. He pushes his head back against the wall hard enough to hear the impact. Megumi watches the conflicting emotions play across Itadori’s face. Even now, in the midst of all this shit, he would give anything to make sure he smiled again.
“This is so fucking backwards,” Itadori mumbles, lifting his arm to cover his eyes. A shuddering breath rippling through him as his words caught in his throat.
Megumi’s grip loosens slightly, “What are you-“
Itadori gasps Megumi’s shirt, pulling him closer to look directly into Megumi’s eyes, “When did you get so fucking selfish?!” he screams, angry tears freely falling down his cheeks.
“I’ve always been selfish, Itadori!” Megumi screams back at him. Pulling at the boys’ shirt pushing him back against the wall, their clenched fists, the only things separating them. “How do you not see that? It’s my fault you’re here. It’s my fault you’re suffering-“
Itadori cuts him off, “You think I wouldn’t suffer without you?!” Megumi’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re supposed to kill me!” Itadori’s voice breaks, as Megumi’s lips part, he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath. “I can’t- you can’t…” Itadori’s grip tightens against Megumi’s shirt as his voice drops, “I’m not enough…why am I not enough?.”
He pulls himself closer to Megumi’s face, searching Megumi’s eyes for an answer. He can’t do this. He can’t do this without him. He’s always known this. The day he died for him, he knew he would do it all over again if it meant Megumi would get to live. He needed him to live. All the pain he’s been through, the horror he’s witnessed, doesn’t come close to the quiet moment’s they’ve spent together, the comfort he feels when he’s with him. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t care anymore, and he realizes now, he was voicing it for the first time.
Megumi’s head drops to Itadori’s shoulder, his hands clinging to his shirt as his body is wracked with sobs, all the anguish he’s been holding onto, breaching the walls he’s carefully built throughout his lifetime. Itadori wraps his arms around him, unconsciously burying his face into Megumi’s neck, breathing him in as he holds him against his chest. Megumi’s breaths begin to steady, the feeling of Itadori’s arms around him, holding him up, as he turns his head towards him.
“You’re wrong…” he barely whispers, his breath grazing Itadori’s ear.
Itadori’s chest tightens, “What…?”
Megumi pulls back, bringing his forehead to meet Itadori’s before he speaks again.
“You are enough…you’re enough for me.”
Itadori looks up into Megumi’s eyes, deep cerulean blue washing over him, baptising himself in the feeling of heat coiling inside him. He doesn’t think, his body moves before he can stop himself, pulling Megumi into him, their lips crashing against one another. Itadori inhales, holding him against him as the warmth from Megumi’s breath melts into his mouth. He pulls away, looking up into the taller boys’ eyes, both of their lips parted, hesitating, until Megumi’s eyes drop down to Itadori’s lips, wordlessly asking for permission.
His hands travel up Itadori’s chest, his friends’ heartbeat pounding through his skin as Megumi’s fingers reach the nape of his neck. His other hand cups the side of Itadoris face, grazing against his soft pink hair, tilting his head up to meet Itadori’s hazy brown eyes before leaning down to brush his lips against Itadori’s parted mouth.
Their kiss is soft, tasting each other for the first time, salted tears, residual blood and mutual understanding. Both attempting to absorb the other’s pain through touch and shared breaths and heated tongues. They kiss until they’re out of air, the room fading into nothing around them as they fall into each other’s arms, their bodies reaching the bed as they hold one another.
Megumi’s last thought before he drifts to sleep, running his hands through Itadori’s hair is a simple one.
This is enough.