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Life was cruel and unfair. Where his heart once held optimism, it now held only tears and a weariness he couldn’t shake off. For better or for worse it was over; for better or for worse he was back home, at the school. The school which had been bursting with life, bubbling laughter from students, was now somber and almost unsettling. The weight he felt bearing down on him was almost too much.
Fushiguro’s bedroom had been sitting untouched next to his own for too long. He knew at some point he’d have to clear it out, and it seemed it was finally time. When did he become the adult in all of this? When did all these responsibilities become his own?
While Shoko and the few real adults still standing looked into rebuilding what was essentially a broken system and a broken school, Yuji and the students were left to help pick up smaller pieces. No one, not even the second year students, knew the whole story of how it all went down; he was the only witness to walk away from that final ordeal, but they knew enough not to ask him about it. They left him out of the planning so as to not stress him, to let him take things at his own pace. They were all struggling, but it was clear Yuji was suffering the most.
What he needed, more than anything, was time. To try and heal, to try and regain the parts of him that were lost. But he knew he’d never be the same.
His scars spoke for themself.
So when he finally found the strength to push open the door to his neighbour’s room, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Fushiguro had always been more private and quiet. His room was quite tidy, everything where it belonged. It was quite the contrast to Yuji’s own room, which was rather cluttered but colourful in it's own fun way.
Megumi had no posters adorning his walls, just a simple calendar with different dogs each month. A desk sat against one of the walls, a hoodie draped across the back of the chair. There were notes laid across the desk, but in a way that showed everything had a home- an organized mess. Yuji couldn’t help but hold back a smile, reminiscing from the homework that would never be completed. He picked up a sheet, looking at the numbers from their pre-calculus. It was funny to think they wasted time on real school work when it never really mattered. They would never have real jobs- stuck as sorcerers fighting day in and day out. There was no use for mathematics.
They didn’t have a choice in career- it was only an illusion. Even Nanami who had escaped briefly had-
Focus.
Besides now that it’s over, maybe the next generation would have a choice; maybe they could be allowed to have dreams of their own. Ambitions, desires even.
He was too tired for this.
He opened the desk drawers quickly, taking a peek but finding nothing of note amongst Megumi’s schoolwork. From there he made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling open the drawer on his side table. This time, however, Yuji found himself slightly shocked by the contents. Several printed photos, mostly of when Megumi was young. Of him, Tsumiki, and… Gojo. If any of them were still around he could pass on the photographs but… their broken little family was no more.
Yuji, however, would not let them be forgotten that easily. He would hold onto those photos until the day he died. He bit his lip to try and stop the tears that were forming from falling loose as he kept shuffling through the photos. He recoiled a little when he found one he recognized- a photo he had taken of Megumi and Nobara, and then a photo from seconds later that Nobara had taken of him, smiling ear to ear, an arm wrapped around Megumi's shoulders. The dark haired boy had just a hint of a smile on his face, clearly unaware the photo was being taken.
It was nice to see Megumi cared enough to keep these, and to keep them so close as well. Yuji knew him well enough to know that behind that exterior there was indeed a big, soft, dog-loving boy who maybe just didn’t know how to express himself. But the reminders of their friendship never hurt, they were reassurance that he hadn’t been alone in this.
He hadn’t been alone. But he was now, wasn’t he?
He set the photos aside and returned to the drawer, looking through the other things. That’s when he found the paper. Folded up neatly, shoved way at the back of the drawer, almost like its owner wanted to forget it was there. Yuji, too curious, picked it up, opening it immediately. It wasn’t until he saw his name at the top of the page that he realized this might be an invasion of privacy, that maybe this was inappropriate.
But of course, he couldn’t stop now, could he?
Dear Yuji,
I’ve never been good with words, and I think by now you know that. That’s why I’m writing, because I don’t know that I could speak the words I want to share. But I can’t keep living like this, it’s tearing me apart.
Not once have I regretted saving you. My only regret is knowing that you will still suffer some day- that all I could do was delay the inevitable. Just long enough to get to know you. False hope, I suppose.
This was… a letter for him but… when had it been written? And why? Tucked away and hidden for how long now? Yuji pulled himself up further onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard and wall as he kept reading.
Gojo and I talk sometimes. He knows how I feel- I think he knew before I did. He was the one who asked how I felt and what I wanted to do with you all the way back at the beginning. And he has warned me many times to watch my attachment. That it was okay to be friendly, but to keep in mind that your destiny was already written in stone. He didn’t want me to end up like him, I think. It’s a long story, and this was before you came around but… he had to kill his best friend last year and frankly, I don’t think he’s been the same since. So he knows what it’s like to lose a friend but…
But you aren’t just a friend. You’re more than a best friend even, you’re the only person I can really trust. Other than Gojo of course, but that's different. I think I’ve told you before that I owe him my life, and while that’s true, I also can’t imagine living now without you. I don’t know how I’m going to make it, Itadori.
Over the course of everything, Yuji had at one point learned about what happened between Geto, Gojo, and…Yuta. He saw the result of Gojo’s trust being used against him. To think that all this time, he just wanted to protect Megumi from the same fate. The irony was killing him.
And yet Megumi was still willing to throw it all away. The way he fought, heart and soul on the line at every turn, like it didn’t matter if he made it to the next sunrise or not… maybe it was starting to make more sense. It was like he couldn’t bear the thought of being left alone.
Yuji’s teeth clenched, fingers shaking where they grasped the page. Well you aren’t alone now- wherever you are there should be lots of company. It's not fucking fair. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He ran his fingers through his hair trying his best to maintain his composure as he kept reading.
And I know this is pointless; there is no world in which we can be together, no world in which you can avoid the execution and we can have some fairytale ending- I’m not stupid. But just because it can’t happen… doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Because I do want it.
I want you.
So if I ever work up the courage to share this, then I guess this is my way of asking if you’d like to play pretend with me? I know it will only make the hurt worse once you’re gone, but who knows, maybe I’ll go first. I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t like hearing me say that.
It’s my fault. I didn't listen to Gojo’s warnings and here I am. Hopelessly beyond attached to you. You’re everything I wish I was. I wish I could have even half the heart you do. So why not pretend- assuming you feel similarly. Let us be happy for a little while, because it’s going to hurt and kill me regardless to watch you go. I want to be happy with you, Yuji, and I never want to see you stop smiling.
That’s the truth of it, I guess. I like you and it’s eating away at me from the inside with no hope of stopping. So I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you or not, right? Nothing to lose but my dignity…
But maybe I don’t even have to give you this? Maybe just putting it onto paper is enough to help. A reason for me to live- to keep seeing your smile. I’m trying to be optimistic, if not for me, then for you. I know that’s what you’d want.
Just know I’d do anything to trade places with you, Yuji.
Your friend,
Megumi
The heels of his palms dug into his eyes, trying desperately to wipe away and stop the tears. Megumi was holding this in the whole time?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He held a pillow tightly to his chest now, needing something to hold onto. He was alone.
Yuji hadn’t been able to share his feelings because he didn’t want to hurt Megumi more if he felt the same way. Because he knew he was going to die. Or should have died. And he didn’t want to leave Megumi with a Yuji-shaped hole in his heart.
But none of that mattered, because apparently Gojo was wrong and no one’s destiny is ever truly written in stone. Because Yuji survived his fate, passed it on unwillingly. Because he had to watch with terrified eyes as everything crumbled around him. If only he had killed himself sooner then none of this-
Stop.
He had to live for Megumi and everyone else now. He couldn’t dwell on his regrets. He wasn’t done yet- he would rejoin the others in rebuilding. He already agreed to be a teacher once the school reopened. He couldn’t afford the self hatred. He had to live for them.
But Megumi, Megumi, Megumi. He couldn’t stop the tears as he sniffled into the pillow. That would be the only regret he allowed himself to have. He couldn’t focus on losing him- he had to focus on loving him. How it filled his heart. How he couldn’t stop smiling. How he fell: fast, hard, and entirely unexpected.
He finally released the pillow, letting his scarred hands fall into his lap. He hated his scars, a constant reminder that he had failed, that it was his fault. Maki had tried to comfort him after, that it wasn’t his fault, that he had done well and saved countless others. That it was all over now. That he could rest.
It hadn’t made him feel better.
Alone. Alone. Alone.
But no, that wasn’t fair. The ones still alive needed him, he wasn’t alone, and he could rely on them. And the ones he lost were still in his heart. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.
He got up swiftly, moving on instinct. He put on Megumi’s sweater he had left on his chair, and pocketed the letter.
He didn’t want to be alone.
And he didn’t need to be.
His feet moved on their own. His hand knocked on the door and all he felt was numb.
“Yuji, what are you- oh.” Maki had opened the door and he almost immediately fell into her arms, his face on her shoulder, his tears restarting. “Shhhh, I got you, I got you.” She kissed the top of his head gently as she brought him into her room, shutting the door behind her.
It was over.
So many were gone.
But he didn’t need to be alone.
He held her tight.