Chapter Text
Soulmates. They are not a dream or a myth, they are a blessing and a miracle. Not everyone has one, not many people get to experience what it is like to have someone connected to them in a way no one else could compare.
There is not a sign or a hint. there's no color that shines brighter when you find them, there is not a mark on your skin or an ink resemblance, there is not an indication of your soulmate. It is just that sense, that bone-deep feeling in your blood that can not be shaken, nor swayed. That feeling might not be love at first sight but an understanding of wanting them in your life. Your soulmate is someone that touches your soul and shares it with you, they know you like no one else, and it is an instant connection, your soul knows where its other half is and who is your other half. Once you find them, there will be no questions about it, the universe works in mysterious ways and it will push you and pull you to find your other half.
Megumi knew, from the moment he saw Itadori, that he would never be able to let him out of his sight. He watched him run into danger and take it head-on and recklessly, Watched him fight with all his might, and then watched him eat that stupid cursed finger, to save him and his senpai, not himself but a person he didn't know and two people he cared about. He knew that this pink-haired reckless idiot was going to take his soul and destroy it. So he did the only rational thing to do.
Tell Gojo.
“Did you just ask me, if we could keep the vessel of Sukuna himself, like a stray cat you saw on the street?” The white-haired man was all but giggling. It was hilarious to him that Megumi, the kid he basically raised, knew him better than most, what it was being asked of him. But the glare of determination in the black haired boy eyes when he looked at the boy passed out on the concrete. it was something Gojo had never seen before, the styaed their like yin in yang, black and white looking down on at the boy there.
“Not like that, he’s only the vessel of Sukuna because he wanted to save us, i don't want him to die because of it”
“you know once the higher ups hear of this they will end him.”
Gojo watched carefully, his student's eyes shifted, he tensed and became defensive. ready to fight. He glanced over at the sleeping boy and back to Gojo, he watched his fist clench at his side gripping into his uniform pants, and his jaw set and he looked into his teacher's eyes.
“You can't let him die, I know you. You can make a way, find a loophole, a way out, or something to prolong his death. you've done it before. Don't let him die tomorrow, please i'm not asking as your student im asking as your son.”
This. This was something new, something unseen and unpredictable.
Gojo looked back over to Itdadori Yuiji the boy who has already done two things Gojo thought he would never see, becoming the vessel of the King of Cruses and surviving, and somehow creating this feeling in Megumi he never seen, the boy who never asked for anything unless it was school related, and even then it was far and few in between. That boy was all but begging Gojo as his son to do something impossible. Because he knew if anyone was going to get that boy over there a second chance, it was Gojo.
“Well, he is that kind of crazy and recklessness and just plain stupid that makes everything a Jujutsu sorcerer should be. I'll see what I can do Kiddo.” Gojo watched his student give a sigh of relief and he took a few steps forward. Facing the opposite side of Megumi and speaking loud enough for just Megumi to hear.
“I have never seen you get all worked up about someone else so that alone is enough for me to do everything in my power to keep this boy alive, but I can't guarantee anything.”
“All I ask is for you to try,” Megumi whispered back, closing his eyes.
Within the next couple of days, many things happened at once.
The boy, Itadori Yuiji moved into the dorm next door to Megumi, he was assigned as a first-year and enrolled into Jujutsu High, under the guise of only until he finds and eats all of Sukuna’s fingers and stays an asset instead of a liability. When he heard the news Megumi sighed in relief and felt like he could cry. His understanding was that it would take years to find all 19 other fingers, and yes there was an impending death threat but that still meant that there was time.
Megumi didn't understand this attachment he had. He had met the pink-haired boy on the battlefield and yes he watched the moron do something incredibly stupid and somewhat brave. But what of it. Why did he feel the need to basically beg Gojo to find a way and save his life? What made his very being ache to know he was saved and wouldn’t die the next day. he wasn't going to be executed the next day, he was alive and well.
Megumi didn't understand but this feeling buried in the depths of him was all he knew at this moment. He was leading with his heart for once and not the logical safe side of his brain.
When he watched the Itadori and Kugisaki for the first few days his mind was at peace and his body felt ok, and whole, his entire being was in a state of rest and peace. He knew that the boy in front of him was safe, that everything was ok and he loved to listen to the talkative ray of sunshine that was Yuiji. They spoke all the time and stayed close together every second they could. Training, classes, free time. They never left each other's side.
Where you saw one the other was surely close by. They didn’t know and no one else really understood it either. There was a pull between them. and distance between them made them unsufferable and restless. Megumi was always in a better mood when Yuiji wasn't around and Itadori always seemed a bit more lively when Megumi was in the line of sight. They were a good team, they could all but communicate without talking, one look and they knew exactly what it meant. They were unstoppable in training together. Yuiji’s hand-to-hand combat and Megumi’s long and short-range attacks because of his shinigami made them a force to be reckoned with.
No one commented on the physical affection Itadori dished out to Megumi and only Megumi, holding his hand, throwing an arm over his shoulder, sitting very close in the common room or the way the other smiled at the smaller boy and let him touch him when no one else could and spoke more freely when the other was around. The way they talked like they were in their own world and everyone else was just non exist at times. They got used to each other presence, Megumi was used to Yuiji's breathing patterns, to his sleeping habits, Itadori had memorized every detail of Megumi down to a T, the way his nose twitches when hes falling asleep or how he always put left shoe then right and never the other way around.
Then there was the detention center and Megumi watched before his eyes, the heart getting ripped out of the body of the boy who he loved.
He screamed and felt his soul ripped into pieces inside of him. Devastation, anger, desperation to save him, to do something, anything!! He ran and ran pushed his legs farther and faster then he ever has until he caught up to the King of curses himself and fought until he had to watch the light drain from his eyes as he held the boy in his arms.
He screamed till his throat burned and he cried until his own tears burned like acid and there was nothing left in him. A boy who had more to give to the world than the world could ever give in return, a light that was crumbled into the darkness, Itadori Yuji was dead.
Gojo Satoru was baffled and livid. He watched as Megumi held a limp body in his arms of the boy that was nothing but good and could hear the earth-shattering screams, he pulled him away and felt him crumble to dust in his arms. he knew this was going to change megumi forever. and he couldn't do anything. it was too late.
Megumi knew the other, as well as Gojo, knew him. He watched his feature contort into a rage that had burned into the crystal blue eyes, it was like looking at the ocean and seeing it on fire burning and with nothing to put it out.
Megumi Fushiguro did not recover from Yuiji’s death.
He threw himself into school and training and missions, there was never a time to breath, to think, never to think. Everything megumi did was so he could to simply push past and forget during the day. Because when he was alone at night, in his room with nothing to do, nothing to think about other than that day. He cried. Every night, he listened and when all he heard was silence when he should have heard the rustling or a faint sound of a movie playing next door, and when there was nothing there, he cried.
His heart ripped into pieces. His chest ached with a sensation that could not be fixed by any medicine. He simply broke. Sometimes he went into the other room, just to feel something other than this pit of despair and pain and agony. Maybe it didn't help at all cause it really only caused more pain, suffering. It was just torment in another room.
He would sit in the middle of the floor. And look at everything, Yuiji’s still unmade bed, the hoodie in the corner of the room that was last touched by the boy himself, never moved, never touched again. The books were on a small shelf that seemed to now be collecting dust. Megumi could bring himself to do anything about it though. Touching anything seemed wrong. So he would sit in the middle of the floor and breathe in the scent that still lingered. And hope that one day he would wake up and Yuiji would be there and this pain would dissipate. Just by a fraction. He felt like he was waiting for him to come home from a mission and not in the room of a dead man room. a dead man, casue he's..dead. and then there's pain again.
Although sometimes he would think back to the time where he woke up in a cold sweat, gripping at his chest, he had a dream, that Itadori had been alive, woken and risen from cold surgical table and was breathing and alive that the hole in his chest was healed and the pink-haired sorcerer was living. It felt like a memory, not just a dream or a figment of his imagination. but a memory, where he saw Yuijis unnatural pink hair that was so soft and all he wanted was to reach out and feel it between his fingers.
He hadn’t had that dream since, but at that moment his soul felt like it had been whole again. If only for that moment. He could breathe and it felt like the pain in his chest had never been there in the first place.
Megumi continued to fall into his depression. No one could pull him out of it. The one person that could make it all better was dead. Without a funeral at that.
But sometimes. Sometimes. Megumi would feel ok, he didn’t know why, he brain was still trying to come up with solutions and conjure ways to make it all better. But his soul doesn’t scream out anymore, maybe he’s healing? It feels wrong to heal. He wants him back. There’s not healing from losing someone like him. Losing his person. But sometimes in his dreams he sees him. He sees an alive Itadori sitting on a coach in a dark room watching random ass movies. And he feels ok in the depths of those dreams.
Everything is different when he wakes up though.