Chapter Text
Megumi never believed in fate until he met Itadori. Like how you know it’s going to rain before the droplets fall by seeing the dark clouds, Megumi knew that he would fall for Itadori from that determined yet fearful look in his eyes when he jumped in that window to save his friends.
When this teenager with no cursed energy was kicking and punching the curse with all the strength he could muster, Megumi only had two thoughts running through his head.
Idiot.
And, wow.
He’s lived with Gojo all his life and despises how he rushes into things, arrogantly and recklessly. But this is different. Gojo dives headfirst into trouble because he knows he will come out unscathed. Itadori has to feel the cursed energy, the foreboding presence that will kill him if he fights. But still, here he is, with no other thought than to save his friends.
The second he saw that determined look, he should have known there was going to be trouble. It’s Megumi’s fault that Itadori ate that finger. Now he’s going to die because he was a good person and wanted to save Megumi, even though Megumi should have been the one saving him.
But then he didn’t die.
Even worse, Megumi watches in horror as markings appear and he laughs, cruel and mean and nothing like how Megumi imagined Itadori would laugh. Then he looks at him, and Megumi feels a chill. Because gone is that selfless look Itadori had replaced with a stranger. The stranger looks at Megumi and the surrounding area and looks arrogant and cruel. Then something odd happens, and suddenly he’s looking back at Itadori’s soft gaze.
“Fushiguro?”
No, this cannot be real. He couldn’t possibly have control of Sukuna. It’s impossible, but the way Itadori’s concerned gaze has him feeling warm inside makes him want to believe in the impossible.
“Ryomen Sukuna, by Jujutsu Law I am going to exorcise you!”
“Who’s Sukuna? It’s me, Itadori.”
Megumi is shaking because he’s injured or because he’s hesitating, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even notice Gojo’s appearance until he’s right beside him.
“Yo.”
“Gojo?”
“Yup. Came to pick up that finger. Now, where is it?”
Megumi can only gesture to Itadori and let him explain. Gojo walks over to Itadori and appraises him, finally saying
“Wow, you’ve really merged with him, huh?”
Megumi’s heart leaps in hope.
“Does that mean we can use him?” Does that mean I can save him?
“We’ll see. Is saving him a personal request?” Gojo looks at him now, half in jest and half knowingly.
Well. There’s no point in lying. “Yes, it’s personal. He saved me so I owe him.” I just don’t want him to die.
Gojo looks at him solemnly, as if he heard his thoughts, then proceeds to knock Itadori out and carry him.
“Well, if it’s a request from my student, how can I refuse?”
* * *
Megumi waits outside for Gojo and Itadori. Gojo is giving Itadori another finger in order to determine if he really can be used as a vessel. Megumi remained outside just in case this all fails and Gojo has to kill Itadori. He isn’t sure if he will be able to stop himself from intervening if that’s the case, and he definitely doesn’t want to see Itadori’s dead body. He wants his last image of him to be a happy one, with that warm gaze that he gave him after taking back his body from Sukuna.
The door opens, and there is Itadori, alive, and smiling at him.
“Fushiguro! You look like shit!”
Megumi can only scoff and pretend that he’s upset.
When they get to the school, and Megumi finds that he and Itadori live right next to each other, he has a mini panic attack. And Gojo, the bastard, just leaves them there together, as a form of ‘bonding’.
“Hey, Fushiguro.”
Itadori was looking at Megumi now, his gaze unreadable. Megumi could only hum in response, nervous at what he’s going to say next.
“Gojo told me that you pushed for me to not get executed. Thanks.”
“I just hate useless deaths. If you can control Sukuna, there’s no point in killing you.”
“Yeah. Now I can save more people before I die.”
Ah.
Megumi’s stomach dropped as he remembered that Itadori is alive now, but his execution is only postponed. Any day now, he could collect all 20 fingers and then be out of Megumi’s life. He’s a timebomb that will ruin life when he’s gone.
“Fushiguro, are you okay? You look pale.”
Itadori is suddenly on him, one hand tilting his face up to examine him. A worried expression on his face. Megumi desperately wants to kiss his furrowed brow. Itadori seems to notice the small distance between them, but surprisingly, doesn’t pull away. He instead strokes Megumi’s cheekbone with his thumb and leans in closer, and closer, giving Megumi every chance to pull away-
And Megumi takes it. He brushes off Itadori and lamely says “I’m tired. I’m heading to my room.”
Itadori blinks, then smiles and Megumi can’t find a hint of a shadow in that smile.
“Okay. Fushiguro. Have a good rest.”
The door closes, and Megumi can feel the line he places between them, feeling like a wide barrier keeping him from what he wants. It’s necessary, he tells himself. He can’t get too attached to someone destined to leave him. He can’t welcome pain like that. He takes that warm gaze that Itadori gave him, the feel of his thumb on his cheek, the way his breath fanned his face when they were about to kiss, and locks all these feelings within his heart.
* * *
If there is a god, Megumi is sure it’s laughing at him right now.
Because here is Itadori, the boy he spent weeks pushing away, dying in his arms. His heart ripped away by Sukuna, he’s bleeding so quickly and must be in so much pain, but he’s looking up at Megumi with that soft gaze still.
Don’t look at me like that. Megumi wants to scream. Can’t you see it’s all my fault? I wasn’t strong enough to save you.
Megumi is holding his hand, and Itadori is weakly rubbing his thumb along the back of Megumi’s hand, showing that he isn’t dead yet. Megumi almost laughs at how he’s the one being comforted in this situation.
“F-Fushiguro.”
“Shut up you idiot, save your strength.”
Itadori huffs in a way that makes it seem like a laugh and shakes his head.
“Fushiguro, since I’m dying, can I be selfish for once.”
Megumi sees that determined look again, feels the feeble strength squeezing his hand and nods. He understands. He leans in, to take Itadoris lips to take his last breath like a grim reaper.
But Itadori moves his head and kisses his cheek, and moves his lips towards his ear.
“I don’t want to force you, Megumi.”
His name on Itadori’s lips is sweet like roses. He turns to tell him that, he is not being forced, that he really likes him, that he was only cold and kept his distance because he was falling for him, but, as he feels that Itadori’s thumb is no longer moving against the back of his hand, and he looks and sees eyes that are cold and glazed over, he feels like he’s choking on thorns. How long has he wanted Itadori to call him by his first name? But having it be his final word felt like a curse.
He finally let the tears come. He sobs loud and ugly, knowing no one is around them and not caring even if someone was. He feels as though every part of him is being ripped apart and crushed. He laughs, tears streaming down. If he had known that he would feel this way, he would have kissed him that first day, instead of putting on a stupid facade that only had Itadori die thinking he hated him. He built up so many walls around his heart, but Itadori slipped through cracks he didn’t even know were there and engraved himself within Megumi.
Megumi closes his eyes and sees the soft warm gaze Itadori always gave him. He hears his laugh, melodic and kind, he feels his warm breath on his face. He uses these memories to give him strength to let go of the corpse, and walk away.