Chapter Text
- Nothing lasts. Nothing is finished. Nothing is perfect -
Ohi-sama seemed to smile brighter that morning, Megumi thinks the obvious reason would be the actual sunshine that now strolled around kitchen humming under his breath while he prepared their breakfast.
It took him a
full moment to shake off the final dregs of sleep in his eyes to take in the scene before him. Windows wide open showing the bright blue sky and its April clouds floating lazily across. Soft winds blowing in filled with the gentle soft smell of spring along with sizzle and crackle of the breakfast being made and the smooth hum of Itadori Yuuji’s little song as he cooked with a smile on his face, donning in a pink apron that matched the color of his hair.
He swore he could hear the birds singing along as well, like something out a cliché movie that the man would force him to watch. As if stuck in a trance, he felt his feet move towards the busy boy whose back was turned to him as he worked with the frying pan, flipping its contents with ease. Last night’s exhaustion still wore heavy on his bones making him yearn for some kind of warmth. Yuuji looked so warm and comforting it was almost unbearable.
Too sleepy to deny nor care he wrapped his arms around the strong waist from behind and bending his neck to rest his forehead on the other’s shoulder, earning him a small flinch before he relaxed.
Itadori said nothing about the action but patted his head absently. “Morning Fushiguro.”
Megumi merely grunts making the boy chuckle slightly, “Rough night? You seemed really beat yesterday.”
Of course, he did, he had been running around half the city in chase of a second-grade curse that wreaked havoc in a local school; a job that should have been Gojo’s, only the white-haired idiot had assigned it to him last minute with a manic smile,
‘I know you’ll do well Megumi-chan!’ he had sing-sung at him gleefully, ‘Don’t go home till you finished it ok? I would do it, but I have a little errand to run. Do your best! ~’
He wished he could punch the man in the face.
He nods on his shoulder, now placing his chin to look at the pan to investigate what he was cooking.
“Pancakes,” he says rhetorically. Yuuji hums affirmatively, “Yup. They’re one of my specialties! I saw the recipe on the internet where it makes the pancakes come out super fluffy, so I decided to try it. You’re gonna love it.”
He flips the puffy looking pancake with a flourish before adding, “I wonder if Kugisaki would want some?”
Megumi merely grunts, eyeing the fluffy pancake turn a lovely golden brown with mild fascination. The smell made his stomach growl loudly making him flush slightly in embarrassment, this makes Yuuji let out a laugh.
“Don’t worry they’re almost done. Any preferences on toppings?”
Megumi thinks for a moment, eyeing the skilled hands that effortlessly poured the last of the batter to the pan and watched as the pancake puff up like a miniature balloon.
“No.”
“Great, blueberries and maple syrup it is! We’re going Canadian today,” the smaller says happily as he finishes off the last pancake and stacking it neatly with the others.
Megumi merely presses his cheek on the yellow clad shoulder, eyes half shut, the drowsiness still clinging onto him like a blanket. With how warm Yuuji was, he was having a hard time moving even with the light jostling movements.
“Fushiguro! Don’t tell me you fell asleep standing!”
He hums, not willing to put any effort into speaking but taking in a deep breath instead. The rosy haired sorcerer smelled slightly of peach blossoms and detergent; strange but it was a nice scent. He felt a soft tap to his forehead.
“Fushigurooo, I need to move and you need to eat,” Itadori whines with a light pout. Megumi absently thinks that he had very nice lips, rosy peach pink and full.
Albeit he didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he reluctantly let go of him (not that he would ever admit that to anyone even if he dies) and zombie walked to the small dining table fitted in his dorm and sat down before promptly setting his head on the table with a light ‘thump’.
“Eat up, they came out really good!”
He lifts his head to see a veritable stack of puffy pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and blueberries topped on top of them and scattered around the plate, finished with a small curl of butter. His stomach rumbled at the pleasing sight.
Infront of him, Itadori had his own stack, slightly larger than his with more of the syrup, as he sat down to join him.
“Ittadakimas!” they said in unison (Megumi lacked the enthusiasm Itadori had shown) and dug in.
Picking up his fork, he poked the pancake, feeling it bounce slightly at the pressure. It was almost like a fluffy cloud, he liked to think. He almost didn’t want to cut it.
The pancakes were great. No, they were amazing. It wasn’t too sweet, and it complimented the berries and the brown syrup which he noticed was added only in moderation making the whole thing balanced rather than a sugar overdose. He shivered internally remembering the time Gojo made pancakes for breakfast. It had been a recipe for diabetes.
He looked up to see Itadori smiling at him, warm brown eyes the color of the maple syrup were soft as he looked at him with brimming happiness. Megumi felt flustered for some reason.
“What?” he opts to say, albeit a little harsher than he means to. However, this doesn’t faze the other who just gives a small chuckle with a closed eye smile.
“No, no. You seemed to be really happy. Did you like the pancakes?”
Feeling embarrassed, he merely shoved another mouthful before humming noncommittedly. This makes Yuuji happy, yet he doesn’t say anything more but merrily gobble up the rest of his own pancakes, unaware of Megumi’s often dazed staring at him.
They eat the rest of their breakfast in comfortable silence with the peach haired boy occasionally filling the silence with a comment or two.
“Oi, Itadorii!! Fushiguroo!! Over here!!” bellows Kugisaki Nobara at the sight of her two classmates. The noise really was unnecessary seeing they were only less than ten feet away, but he merely raised a hand as a partially wave while Itadori waved enthusiastically, wrapped bento in one hand and the other swinging up in the air with much energy. Almost like an overexcited pup.
Megumi noticed the second years were on the grounds has well; Panda with his usual grin waving a polite hand that were covered in pastel blue cartoonish protectors, Toge Inumaki dressed in his sport wear with the lower part of his faced concealed as usual. Zen’in Maki, on the other hand, was twirling her naginta a few rounds with razor precision.
As they approached their boisterous comrade, Itadori was the first to reach her with his sunny grin, “Kugisaki! Hope you’re hungry because I got pancakes!”
The said girl sprung up straight, dusting her white hoodie and black leggings and practically zipped towards the bento dangling in its bag from Itadori’s arm, eyes sparkling.
“Pancakes!?”
“Yup, I made them this morning! Fushiguro and I already had some so I brought more for you as well.” The boy is buzzing with happiness at this point, “Let’s go sit down somewhere so you can eat.”
Fushiguro watched the whole exchange with fondness. They were complete dorks at times, but they were also his friends. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.
They sat on the stairs near the ground, the second years flocking to take a look at the bento that Itadori had made. Panda was not ashamed to openly drool at the fluffy treats.
Even Maki seemed pleased, her sharp phoenix eyes glinting at the food while Nobara ogled at her bento happily.
“Yum! It looks so good.”
“Guess you’re a pretty good chef, neh Itadori?”
“It looks so good, Nobara give us a bite too!”
“Shake!”
“STOP CRAWLING OVER MY FOOD YOU PIGS!!”
A loud crunch resonated followed by an unconscious Panda and Toge while Nobara happily feasted on her pancakes occasionally giving Maki a bite (unsurprisingly) and Itadori panicking over the two fallen seniors with frantic promises to make for them too next time.
Megumi merely sat nearby, watching the whole scene unfold, a fond smile threatening to break across his face.
On days like this, he gets to feel like a normal seventeen-year-old. No curses, no demons running amok, no blood and gore to fall asleep to. Just them and the blue skies above them with its lazy clouds watching over them.
At some point Itadori sits next to him with an expression mingled with exasperation and slight guilt. Wordlessly he slumps backwards to lean his weight on his elbows to look at the pastel blue skies above them, lost in thought. Megumi finds himself staring at his profile, their knees pressed side-by-side.
Pink locks, slightly longer than they had originally been, swaying rhythmically to the cool wind. Honey colored orbs shone in the sun as he stared at the sky, unaware of the dark haired boy’s eyes on him.
He looked…at peace. He knew what he was thinking; it’s precious moments like this they get to feel normal. They get to feel alive and count their blessings.
Itadori Yuuji was a blessing in disguise, Megumi will never regret that. He was kind while Megumi was not. He was selfless, recklessly brave and never hesitated to give all he had until he couldn’t give anymore. Like a waterfall in a desert, he will keep pouring till the day he dries up but will never regret his choices. He will sacrifice his life if it means the happiness and safety of others and he knows that Itadori will do it again without a doubt.
He was a boy who wore his heart on his sleeve for the world to see and unashamed of it. Was he an idiot? Possibly, but his heart was bigger. To think such a pure soul hosted the wickedest fiend known to mankind, using his own body to rein in the monster that could tear them to shreds, so that they can live on even if it means the possibility of not being able to see that growth.
From the moment he swallowed that single finger on that fateful night, since that night he watched that boy’s heart being savagely ripped away while it was still beating to save his comrades – it’s then that Fushiguro Megumi decides he would destroy the world if Itadori Yuuji ever asked him to.
He’d give him everything and he wouldn’t even hesitate.
But they know, Megumi knows, one day, these fleeting moments of joy. They will all end; there will come a day where he will no longer hear that joyful voice wishing him good morning. No peach pink hair will be spotted on the grounds or in classes. One day, Itadori Yuuji will cease to exist, crushed by his damned fate leaving this world forever. Leaving Megumi. That had been proven to them since his first death.
He can’t bear to even fathom. A world without Itadori, no smiles, laughter or late-night movie marathons cuddled together. No, not when he finally has a semblance of happiness within his grasp. This warmth, so pure and alluring, he can’t let it go. Never again.
Megumi drinks in these peaceful moments greedily as he took out his phone. Something to hold on in the future, something to cherish till his deathbed. These sweet memories for as long as they last. He will make sure they last, sear them into his mind forever for as long as they would last. Time was never a kind friend afterall, especially not to them.
No one will ever know of the picture he took that morning of the rose-colored angel who was looking at the sky either.