Work Text:
Megumi finds Yuuji outside, standing in the pouring rain.
It’s dark out, and the outdoor lighting at Jujutsu Tech has always been sparse; with her head tilted up ever so slightly, eyes closed in the dim light, she almost looks like she could be taken out of a movie scene.
Yuuji does have a flair for dramatics, whether she likes to admit it or not, which has possibly been heightened by the curse living inside her. Then again, Megumi only knew Yuuji for a few hours before she became Sukuna’s vessel, so how could she truly know?
Megumi joins her. As much as she hates the rain, it’s not so bad with Yuuji standing here beside her, alive and breathing with blood pumping through her veins, not spilling onto the wet pavement in front of her, all over Megumi’s hands, everywhere—
Without a doubt, Yuuji is the only person Megumi would follow into a downpour.
Instead of focusing on the droplets of rain soaking her clothes and trickling down her spine, Megumi focuses on the girl standing next to her and pushes down those treacherous memories from a few months back.
As usual, it’s Yuuji who breaks the silence.
“I like it out here,” she says. “It’s quiet.”
It’s not. It’s practically a downpour—the raindrops aren’t falling hard enough to hurt, but they’re not soft either.
This rain isn’t gentle, and it’s certainly not quiet.
It must be different, the kind of quiet Yuuji is experiencing. Maybe the storm drowns out the noise in her head, or maybe the Queen of Curses hates the rain—either way, Megumi can’t blame Yuuji for seeking out a moment of peace when she can.
Not that she would ever blame Yuuji for anything.
“It feels nice on my skin,” Yuuji continues.
She always runs hot. Once again, Megumi doesn’t know if that’s a side effect of Sukuna’s presence or if she’s always been that way.
Yuuji turns to face Megumi and finally opens her eyes. There’s sadness there, alongside something else, something softer that Megumi doesn’t fully understand.
“What’s wrong, Fushiguro?”
Megumi scowls. Yuuji has an annoying habit of seeing right through her. “I’m here to ask you that question.”
Yuuji looks her up and down, taking a step closer. “No, there’s something—is it the rain? I didn’t know…” Megumi can practically see the gears turning in her head. She tracks the exact moment Yuuji makes the connection, when her brow furrows right before her face falls. “Is it because of me?”
Megumi is a bad liar, but for Yuuji, she tries anyway. “It’s not—”
“No, it is,” she says, breaths coming in faster now. “But you came anyway.”
Of course Megumi came.
Did Yuuji step outside tonight thinking that Megumi would not follow?
Maybe she doesn’t understand the depth of Megumi’s feelings—most of the time, Megumi doesn’t fully understand them herself. Yuuji never asked to be tied to Megumi, after all. Megumi hears this voice inside her head, a voice that sounds a lot like her own, telling her that no one would ever, ever wish to be tied to someone like her—
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” Megumi snaps back to the present, where Yuuji is looking at her and smiling softly. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want you to hurt yourself by being nice to me.”
“I’m not nice,” Megumi says automatically.
“Fushiguro—” Yuuji starts, but her annoyance melts into something closer to fondness. She looks at Megumi, eyes wide and honest, and says, “You are kind.”
The way Yuuji says it with such conviction makes Megumi want to believe it, too.
But she doesn’t. She just can’t.
“It’s so obvious to me,” Yuuji insists. “Maybe your kindness doesn’t look the same as everyone else’s, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”
The way Megumi sees it, her reasons for being out here are completely selfish.
She’s here because she wanted to see Yuuji. She wanted to make sure she was okay, because they had been on a mission earlier that day, and they hadn’t been able to save everyone, and Megumi knew Yuuji would struggle with that. The idea of Yuuji not being okay made her chest feel tight, so she searched for her.
And now that Megumi’s here, she can breathe just a little bit easier. Even just being in Yuuji’s presence like this, when she’s sad and moody in the pouring rain, soothes that ache inside of her.
Megumi is inherently selfish. She always has been. And she selfishly likes that Yuuji chooses to see the best in her.
Megumi changes the subject, because they weren’t even supposed to be talking about her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Yuuji glances away. “You don’t want to go back inside?”
“No. I’m good right here.”
Megumi doesn’t push her; she knows that when Yuuji wants to talk, she will talk. Sometimes she just needs a little time.
“It’s Sukuna,” Yuuji says eventually.
Sukuna must have said something to her. Megumi feels that involuntary sense of guilt tug at her heart, but she pushes it down and focuses on the issue at hand.
“I hate that she knows me so well,” Yuuji says. “She knows exactly what to say to shut me down, and it scares me because she can do it at any time. It doesn’t even matter if it’s all lies; I still fall for it.”
Megumi can picture it clearly: Yuuji, with her bleeding heart exposed for Sukuna to exploit, day after day, twisting the knife whenever an opportunity presents itself. And even when it doesn’t, Sukuna will create those opportunities all on her own, and there is nothing Megumi, or anyone else, can do about it.
The worst of it probably takes place behind closed doors, within the confines of Yuuji and Sukuna’s shared psyche, far beyond the reach of anyone wanting to help—it’s one of the many thoughts that keep Megumi up at night.
Megumi wants to apologize, over and over again. But she doesn’t want Yuuji to tell her it’s okay, or find some way to spin the situation so that she’s giving Megumi comfort instead of receiving it herself. There’s nothing Megumi can say to make it any better.
All she can do is be here, and hope that it will be enough.
That she will be enough.
They stay outside, and eventually, Yuuji puts her head on Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi relaxes into her touch, closing her eyes and letting the sound of the rain soothe her into a state of tranquility. With Yuuji here, it doesn’t sound so haunting anymore.
They fit together nicely, she thinks. Megumi is just a little bit taller, which puts her shoulder at the perfect height for Yuuji to rest her head—at least, that’s what Yuuji told her.
Megumi would be content to stay out here for the rest of the night if that’s what Yuuji needed, but when a shiver runs down her spine, Yuuji must feel it too because she leads them inside shortly after.
“Itadori…” They’re back inside, towel drying their hair, and Yuuji still looks like her mind is off somewhere far away. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Hm?” Yuuji looks at Megumi, blinking until the question registers in her brain. Then she smiles. “Yeah, I am.”
Yuuji’s smile is real, blindingly so, but Megumi’s not fully convinced. She looks a little spaced out, and Megumi doesn’t know why.
“I hope you won’t catch anything,” she says, placing the back of her hand on Yuuji’s forehead. But she doesn’t feel any warmer than usual—
Her thoughts are abruptly cut off when Yuuji throws her head back and laughs. Just the sound of it has always been enough to catch her off guard, so loud and bright and…
Beautiful.
Megumi shakes her head, trying to clear it, but she’s not entirely successful. “What?” she asks.
“Nothing, it’s just—” Yuuji breaks off, still giggling. “You’re so serious sometimes, Fushiguro. You get a little wrinkle, right here.”
Yuuji’s pointer finger finds its way to the space between Megumi’s eyebrows. It’s there and gone in a second, and Megumi feels her mind go completely blank.
Yuuji’s touch is a powerful thing.
“It’s kinda sweet,” Yuuji says.
Megumi feels her entire face heat up at that comment, and she swiftly turns away because she knows how red her face gets when she blushes. She brings a hand to her face and mumbles, “It’s not sweet.”
“Whatever you say, Fushiguro!” For the first time that night, Yuuji’s voice sounds light.
Megumi feels that rare satisfaction of actually succeeding at what she set out to do.
When Megumi turns around and sees Yuuji, looking as though her burdens have been temporarily washed away by the rain, she can’t keep the smile off her face.