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"She died," They tell Megumi. "She died, in the station, it was Mahito."
They say the words but all he can hear is white noise, grinding noise, noise so loud it exists only inside his head.
"Fushiguro did you hear us? Nobara is gone."
And every atom inside Megumi Fushiguro splinters. Eyelashes heavy with blood and tears, head stuffed with malevolent clouds, hands shaking, sha king, s h a k i n g.
Everything after that is a blur, he's not even sure he's moving properly, one minute he's on this side of the tracks and the next he's on a platform two levels down. All he can see is nails flying towards nothing, over and over again. He can hear a hammer knocking between his ribs. It persists, dull and throbbing.
She's gone. He will be too. Because how does anyone expect him to survive this?
He's moved again, slammed into a wall, hurt someone, chimera. And then Yuuji is in front of him and Megumi wants to crumble into the earth.
"Itadori," He cracks on every syllable, throat shutting down as if denying the words trying to escape.
"What is it Fushiguro-kun?" That pink hair is matted with blood, beautiful brown skin ugly shades of bruised, but there is still so much care in those black eyes, as if nothing exists but this moment, but the reassurance that he is okay.
"It's Kugisaki," Oily words, gagging on the way up. "She died."
There's a beat of uncontrolled silence, like the universe is preparing to swallow itself whole, and then very quiet, so quiet even the air barely heard. "No she didn't."
And if he had looked up conviction in the dictionary it would have been those three words that defined it.
"What?" Megumi is so stunned he blinks back into the train station at the speed of sound.
"No. She isn't." Itadori's face is tense, so full of anger, and knowledge Fushiguro finally understands why enemies have started quaking at the sight of him.
"What do you mean?" He asks, brows knitting, hands fisted at his side. The hammer in his ribs stops.
"I would know if she dies. She is one third of me." His friend says it like it's the simplest thing on earth. How could it not make sense, kind of tone; how can it be anything else, kind of words; there is no other option, kind of expression. But Megumi doesn't understand any of it. What does that even mean?
"Yuuji," He starts, wincing at the softness of his voice, the feeling that bleeds through his usual monotone. "Please I know this is hard but you have to believe me. I would never lie to you about this, never."
"She is not dead Fushiguro." That sunshine voice has never been so cold before, shadows that have never touched sunlight, shadows that haunt the moon, shadows that follow death.
"Itadori," He needs him to understand because selfishly, selfishly, he can't do this alone. "I need you to listen to me. She is dead."
With a look he doesn't know how to decipher, black eyes glowing, lips pursed, skin flushed, Itadori wraps bloodied fingers around his wrist and tugs. Megumi is too shocked to protest or question. He simply stumbles after his best friend, long legs folding knocking racing across destroyed concrete and falling debris. Battle rages around them but he can't be bothered. He can barely see anything but the bright flash of his friend's hair. The hand on his skin is hot. He can feel every point of their contact, pin picks that pierce into his veins, make his blood boil hotter.
And then they're around a corner and coming to a stop. The world is quieter here, more respectful in its destruction. A curse writhes towards them but before he can warn Itadori the boy is shoving a hand out and squishing the disgusting creature between his fist. It pops like a grotesque balloon. Black eyes never leave his face.
"Megumi-kun," Yuuji looks at him, face neutral, eyes brighter than the galaxy. "Kugisaki isn't dead. I know the same way I'd know if you died."
"That doesn't make any sense!" He wants to scream into blackness till it hurtles him into a new dimension.
"I don't know how to explain it but I can feel you guys." Itadori shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead, his ears. It's getting so long. Even the shaved undercut is growing. Megumi's hands itch to card his fingers through it, scrape his nails over it. He doesn't even breathe.
"You're a part of me I cannot dislodge. I think it's half the reason Sukuna is so obsessed with you. Maybe it's even the reason he can obsess. And Nobara and I, there's just something. It thrums whenever I'm near her. It doesn't stop."
"That sounds like you have a crush Yuuji." He shakes his head, jealousy and elation surging forward. Does his presence produce the same thrum? Does he have any effect at all, past the obsession the King of Curses harbours for him?
"No, I know what a crush feels like I've had them before. A girl at my old school." Itadori sighs, like he's finally let something within him free. "This feels like if I lost one, or both of you, I'd simply stop existing. Like if you died there would be no life within me."
"But Yuuji I saw her body, I know she's—"
Itadori steps to the side and there, slumped over, leaning against a cracking wall is Kugisaki Nobara. Megumi feels like he's finally coming up for air after being underwater a second too long. The relief is painful, burning into his lungs, slicing at the cells of his blood.
"Thought I'd be that easy to get rid of Fushiguro?" The smirk in her voice is so familiar he sinks to his knees in anguish. His hands are moving too fast for him to stop them, caressing her face, tangling in her hair, touching touching touching. Briefly his fingers brush over her neck and when he feels the pulse, low and steady, a sob wracks his body so hard he folds over her.
"You're alive." He strangles. He feels heat against his back and knows it's Itadori's hand, spread across him in comfort. A brown hand catches in the corner of his vision, tangling with Nobara's. Another hand, hers, fists into his hair, tugging his head up and pulling him closer. Their foreheads press together and he can barely see her beautiful, scarred face beyond his tears. But it is there and her brown eyes are open, fluttering at him.
"I'm alive Megumi." She whispers. Not usually so gentle, so soft. But something about this moment is stained glass fragile, shattered mirror pretty, life changing. "We're all alive."
Sob after sob engulfs him. He's drowning inside his own lungs, mind swimming through a whirlpool. At the bottom he will find their hands, clasped together, waiting to catch him.
"We have to get you to the high school. We have to ask—" He starts, stumbling over himself as he looks between them frantically. There's enough blood to carve a new river.
"Megumi." Itadori says quietly, moving the hand on his back to cup his chin. Heat explodes across his skin as he stares into those midnight eyes. And then his best friend is coming towards him, slower than treacle, faster than light. "It's going to be okay." He whispers.
Yuuji is kissing him, and Fushiguro's mind is completely blank, body completely quiet, world completely demolished. Soft lips, gentle caress. Brushing across him. Everything is cherry blossom pink. Yuuji kisses him again, and again, and again. So many times he loses the count he wasn't keeping. So many times colours start to melt together. His hands find that hair, fulfill their need to feel it, scrap against it, skin to softness. Softness to groan. Groan says, 'do it again' in a hundred different languages. He's still not breathing. And before he can so much as gasp out a 'yes', a 'let me do it more', an 'I want to discover the words you're hiding', Nobara is taking him into her embrace.
Her lips feels sharper than their best friend's. Not soft, but more defined. As if every part of her had a beginning and end. Not him. Megumi feels like he stretches on forever. Not even Gojo would see the end of him. He's created a new kind of infinity.
She makes noises in her throat that turn his brain cells into stardust. He's getting lost in this cosmos, drifting amongst comets and meteors screaming towards his unprotected heart. He feels it in slow motion, the crash of something incomprehensible. The crash of something a millenia of people, graves of languages, are still trying to find words for.
Just when he lands in a galaxy three deaths away from now, Nobara pulls back. He's swimming. Briefly he notes the sweet look that passes between Yuuji and Kugisaki, the even sweeter brush of their lips.
And then he is being crowded, on this dirty demolished concrete and all he feels is safe. Safe. And so inexplicably loved.