Chapter Text
When Megumi walks into his dorm room on the morning of December 12, it was roughly 4 am.
He had been sent on a solo mission just on the outskirts of Tokyo against a fair leveled curse for his ranking. It wasn’t a very strong curse, but it had been much too swift and able to evade all his attacks. It had felt like going on a long, wild goose chase for hours as he tried not for the public to get involved with its meddling.
Its cursed technique was also quite tricky. It involved some sort of portal or teleportation power, and even though it mainly dodged everything he threw at it, occasionally it would stick it’s hand into the air, where a portal would appear and an identical one by Megumi’s arm or head, and hit him before laughing statically and running off again.
His demon dog was fast as well, but each time the dog was near it would slip away. Megumi knew the chaos that it could cause with such a technique, so he kept chasing it down. Even if his frog(s) would protrude its tongue and lash at it, it would just dissipate and reappear somewhere else. Almost as if it was enjoying toying with Megumi.
He tried to find patterns in its attacks, but all there was to it was uncoordinated nonsense. There was no method that he could catch onto except portal, attack, run, and all of those could be in any order. He tried to prepare for a portal, but the spirit would run. If he prepared for an attack, it used a portal. When he attempted to chase after it, it attacked. Nothing made sense and it was starting to frustrate him and make his head spin.
For once, he wishes that Kugisaki or Itadori, or both, were there with him. Admittedly, they served as a great team. With at least one of them, he’d get the job done within minutes. Perhaps Kugisaki could use resonance on the arm that would poke through a portal and hit it. Knowing Itadori, he would probably catch up to the curse in no time. Sure Megumi was…appreciative of being ‘blessed’ with such a technique as his, but their abilities sounded a lot more useful for this mission. It made him wonder why he had been the one to go out for it.
After a tiring few hours of getting nothing done, Megumi finally was able to catch it off guard when its portals started forming. He had commanded his demon dog to bite off the arm that began to slip through the portal. The curse squealed and began to retract the stump of its arm, but before it could Megumi had grabbed the stump and pulled the curse through. He almost let out a sigh of relief when it finally got exorcized.
His demon dog had whined and Megumi bent down to pat its head and release it into the shadows. Jujutsu Tech was far, and by now he’d assumed that Ijichi was either asleep or had given up on waiting. Likely not. That man was far too terrified of being reprimanded to fall asleep if Megumi hadn’t returned.
True to his thoughts, when Megumi finally stumbled back to where the car was parked, Ijichi was tapping his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel, mumbling to himself and looking up every so often. When he catches sight of Megumi, his shoulders slump and his eyes close and he leans his head back against the seat.
“Ah! Fushiguro-kun, I’m glad that you’re back. Are you injured? You’re limping.”
Megumi looks down and he notices that he was bleeding a bit, but the pain was nonexistent. He shakes his head and passes it off as just drowsiness. Ijichi eyes him a moment again before nodding slowly, backing out of the parking lot. Megumi could swear that he had just blinked for a moment before he was back at Jujutsu Tech with Ijichi tapping his shoulder.
With a mumbled thanks, Megumi steps out of the car, barely able to see in front of him, walking slowly to the doors. The school is asleep, as he had expected, and his throat feels suddenly parched. He makes his way through the dark to get to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water with shaky hands. He brings it up to his chapped lips, letting the coolness of it slide down his throat and satisfy it.
He sits at the counter, just to rest for a bit before he had to retire to his dorm. The bed sounded amazing, and he didn’t want to keep himself away from it. The walk back seemed like miles away. All that he was going to do was rest his head on the counter for a moment, and then he’d be up with enough energy to get to his room and collapse onto the mattress.
When he lifts his head back up, the sun is beginning to peek through the windows and shine through the kitchen. Itadori is humming to himself, something sizzling on a pan on the stove before him. Megumi blinks a moment, scrubbing at his eyes. Had he fallen asleep in the kitchen?
“Ah, Fushiguro! Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Megumi can't find the energy to get mad at him. His neck and back were sore, and his leg ached terribly.
“It's fine.”
He says, rubbing his eyes and squinting towards the clock. His mind is foggy, and the numbers are too far away to read.
“It just hit 7.” Itadori supplies for him, and he nods slowly. About two and a half, three maybe hours of sleep at a kitchen counter. He hoped he had a free day that day. “Breakfast?”
“Not hungry.”
“Hm.”
Itadori continues cooking, the sun beginning to poke through the windows brighter than before. He gears shuffling from behind him, and he turns to see Kugisaki walking towards them, her mascara lightly applied, a towel around her head that she scrubbed at before tossing down the laundry chute in the living room. She peers at Megumi, before taking a seat next to him.
“Yo, Fushiguro. Where were you all night.”
Not a question. A demand. Megumi wonders why, or how she even noticed his absence. Unless she was specifically keeping an eye on his whereabouts.
“Solo mission.”
He replies, and Itadori’s eyebrows furrow.
“And you didn't tell us?”
Megumi shrugs.
“You brat, Fushiguro! I was waiting until 2 am for you!”
Megumi racks his mind for any plans he might have had with Kugisaki that night. Movie? No. Sleepover? He didn't think so.
“The one time you let me paint your nails, you ditch me!”
Ah. So that was the case.
“Couldn't you have painted Itadori’s?”
“You didn't invite me?”
Both Megumi and Itadori ask at the same time, one exasperated and the other seeming offended.
“I’ve already painted Itadori’s nails before. Besides, his are more bitten down, and don't even get me started on his cuticles.”
Itadori lets out a noise of complaint.
“Fushiguro’s nails are like girls’ nails. Long and pretty.”
Megumi narrows his eyes. “Our nails are the same.”
“You just don't have a vision like mine.” Kugisaki flips her hair back.
“It's not 20/20, that's for sure.”
Itadori mumbles under his breath and Kugisaki huffs. There was no way to win an argument with that girl.
Regardless of their bickering, Itadori places a plate of food in front of her, and she hums with acknowledgement. “You’re coming over tonight, and that’s final.”
Megumi looks at her through the corner of his eye. “Sure.”
He gets up from the chair, his leg throbbing in pain when he sets it down too hard. He fails to hide the wince he makes, and Itadori’s eyes dart over to him quickly. “Fushiguro?”
Megumi ignores him, shaking his head. He walks as normally as he could towards the hallway. He could still feel Itadori’s eyes on him. But he doesn’t say anything. When he gets to the hallway and gets out of his sight, Megumi lets himself let out a hiss. He limps towards his room, favoring his pained leg, the other thumping heavily against the wood floors as he practically drags his other leg.
When he gets to his room, he lets out a sigh, his back hitting the wall. He catches his breath for a moment before walking into the bathroom. He peels off his shirt which was damp with sweat but crusted with dried blood from the few hours before. He examines his skin in the mirror, searching for any serious injuries on his top half. He finds only minor scrapes and bruises. When he rolls up one pant leg, he finds nothing. When he pulls up the other, he grimaces at the sight of large and ugly purple, green, and blue bruising and scratches on the area under his knee all the way to his ankle. When had he even gotten so banged up?
He runs a hand down his face and groans to himself, turning the handle to the shower and letting the cold water begin to flow before he stepped in. The water cascades down his body, and he scrubs the dirt that had gotten into his scalp and washes the old blood off his arms. His leg still pangs, the water only seeming to make the pain worse rather than soothing it.
Megumi steps out of the shower, pushing aside the curtain and putting on his uniform. He grabs a towel to get most of the water out of his hair, and then looks through the cabinets beneath the sink for rolls of bandages. He grabs one roll and a pin, taking it over to his bed where he props up his leg and rolls up his left pant leg.
It looked as if it had gotten nastier since he last looked at it. Most of the bleeding had stopped, though, and he didn’t need much to bandage it up and secure it with the pin. He could only hope that it wouldn’t bother him until it had healed and left him alone.
He puts on his socks over the bandages, gritting his teeth when it applied a bit too much pressure before sliding them into his shoes and making his way back into the kitchen where he had left Itadori and Kugsaki.
It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes since he was gone, but Kugisaki had already left, leaving only Itadori still seated in the kitchen. Even then, he didn’t have a plate in front of him, and there was only one plate in the sink which he assumed had been Kugisaki’s. His face seems to light up when Megumi enters the kitchen, and he grins and waves.
“Fushiguro! You sure you don’t want breakfast?”
“...Fine.”
Itadori gives him a thumbs up, getting up to lift the lid off of the pan, one with enough food inside to serve two more people. Megumi raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you eaten yet?”
“Nah, I wanted to eat with you.”
Megumi blinks in surprise, but he can’t say that he didn’t expect such a response. Itadori did often express how he enjoyed doing various things with him. However, it seemed different this time. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You just seemed really grumpy today. Like, more than usual. So I thought that you might want some company.” Itadori replies with a shrug of his shoulders, serving two plates of their breakfast. “Though, now that I think about it, that’s kind of stupid. You probably want to be left alone when you’re grumpy.”
Megumi stares at him blankly.
“Did I take that the wrong way?” Itadori asks sheepishly, rubbing his neck. He places the plate in front of Megumi and takes his, beginning to leave. Megumi doesn’t actually want him to go.
“You can stay, you know.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Itadori looks back and smiles, making his way back to sit by Megumi. They eat together in silence for a few minutes, before Itadori initiates the conversation.
“We’ve got cursed weapon training today.”
Megumi purses his lips. Right. Gojo had mentioned it the day before during class. If his leg would just cooperate with him, then it would be fine.
“We’re also going to go against each other, and it’s combined with the second years for more experience. I think I’d like to go against Maki-san. I hear she’s really good at it, and I want to test myself too!”
“Yeah, she is.”
Itadori continues chattering on about what he wants to learn about cursed energy and sorcery, and Megumi lets him, listening to his every word. What would be the point, he wonders, if he would be executed one day? They’d find a way out of it when that happens, though. Itadori wasn’t going to be killed, anyway. Not again.
Itadori.
The boy had caught his eye from the moment he first saw him. Anyone would have noticed him and his practically superhuman strength. Even then, there was something about him that was just…captivating. Perhaps it was his unnatural kindness or strong resolve. He cared for others safety more than his own which would be infuriating but it was admirable in a way, too. Being a sorcerer meant protecting nonshamans, and if you died in the process, you died.
Megumi had lost people before he had lost Itadori that night. They weren’t close to him or really around his age, but he had gotten used to the idea that Jujutsu sorcerers died alone and with regrets, and that grieving was of no use. He had still known them, however, and maybe he did feel pity or remorse, but then it was over because he had to ‘get over it’.
When Itadori told him to live a long life before promptly falling to the ground before him, Megumi felt grief. A feeling much stronger than grief, guilt, hatred—to himself, to that curse —and just plain sorrow. The still body that lay before him was once so full of joy and life. Had he been the cause of that?
Of course he had.
If he had been strong enough, Itadori wouldn’t have felt the need to swallow the finger and get himself ropes into such a messy way of life. He wouldn’t have to have gone through all the traumatic things he went through the day that he died.
The thoughts had plagued him every waking moment afterwards. When he dreamt, he only had nightmares of that same scene of Itadori smiling at him, before his face turned cold and he blamed Megumi for everything that had happened to him. In the bathroom mirror, Itadori’s reflection was behind him, staring with dull eyes. Next to him as he sat with Kugisaki was a chair in the kitchen which they believed would never be occupied by that boy ever again. During training and missions he and Kugisaki were missing an empty hit that Itadori would have been able to easily land for them. When Kugisaki had him tag along for her shopping sprees, Itadori wasn’t there to hold her bags. The first time, he remembered, Kugisaki had called Itadori’s name, demanding that he take her bags. It had taken her a moment to realize that he wasn’t there.
He never would be.
And then he was there, and Megumi thinks that when he looked between Itadori and Gojo on that day, he had felt the biggest betrayal of his life. As if the two of them had ripped out his own heart and began to tear into it before throwing it away, still beating in a dumpster.
“—guro. Yo, Fushiguro!”
Megumi’s train of thought is broken. Itadori waves his hand in front of his face, snapping his fingers. Megumi pushes it back down.
“Finally! I thought you got possessed or something.” Itadori laughs. “We’re heading out for training now.”
The boy gets up, grabbing both his and Megumi’s empty dishes (Megumi hadn’t even noticed that he had been eating) and placed them in the sink with Kugisaki’s. He then extends his hand to Megumi again, and Megumi looks at it blankly. “You do know that I can get up by myself, right?”
Itadori looks sheepish as his hand slowly retracts back to his side. “Right, sorry.”
Despite that, Megumi goes to walk with him towards the training grounds. As they grow near, he can hear the sounds of people talking, weapons ripping through the air. When they get into the opening, Itadori waves towards Maki, who regards him with a nod. With one look towards Megumi, Itadori bolts off towards her.
“Yo.”
Megumi sees Kugisaki standing beside him. When had she even gotten so close to him?
“Stop staring at him like a sick fool and come spar with me.”
“I wasn’t.” He replies coldly.
Usually Kugisaki would run off with the second years, but seeing that everyone else was partnered up already (Itadori and Maki, Panda and Inumaki—Okkotsu still being out of the country) they ended up together. As Kugisaki grabs a staff, she looks at Megumi suspiciously.
“Right.”
“Run out of options before coming to me?” He asks, taking a defensive stance as they begin to circle around each other.
“Nah, I told them I was waiting for you.”
Although he might have suspected it, he still raised his eyebrows in thought. “Since when do you do that anyway?” He asks, raising his wooden tool to block her attack from above, pushing her back. She skids to a halt, stretching her arms.
“Ever since you started getting soft on that dunce over there.” Megumi’s eyes flick over towards Itadori.
“I am not getting ‘soft’ on Itadori.”
“Did I specify it was him?”
“Who else would you be talking about? Panda?”
He mocks, parrying her slash towards him. She disregards her exposed stomach, and Megumi flips his weapon so that the end of it jabs her under the ribs. She grumbles at that, muttering curses under her breath.
“You need to focus on your defenses as well. Leaving the upper part of your body blocked by your weapon but the lower half could leave you exposed to kicks, or brute attacks like the one I demonstrated.” He explains, attempting to avoid the topic of whatever Kugisaki was trying to get on. She didn’t seem to be deterred.
“Why did you save him, anyway? He told me about how he became … that. But he never mentioned the details, or why you were the one to request his saving.” Even if she seemed to be ignoring him, Megumi noticed that she had taken his bit of advice and kept her lower body out of his line of attack.
“He had potential. Haven’t you seen his abilities, especially without any cursed energy? As well as being a one in a million to be able to hold back Sukuna, it would be a waste to just throw it all away. I’ve told you all this already.” Megumi doesn’t mention his own personal feelings. He mentioned it to her when they were grieving for those two months. He had gone into some detail about what had happened, and even though they had grown closer, he hadn’t decided to really open up. Not yet.
“That wasn’t all there was to it. We both know that.”
“That’s all that you need to know about it.”
“Aren’t I your friend, too? Don’t you trust me enough with your feelings?”
The hit that he receives to the side of his ribs catches him off guard. It was hard, and he could practically feel the emotions behind it. He stumbles a moment, his bad leg bending too grossly on the bruises, causing him to falter for a bit. Kugsaki hits him on the other side, in the area just above his injured leg. He can’t find it in himself to righten his posture, and instead lets himself fall onto his side. His head pounded and blood rushed through his ears. That leg of his was going to kill him by the end of the day.
“No. Not enough of one.”
He replies coldly as the whistle blows, signifying the next round of partners. Kugisaki’s eyes stare burning holes into him, her lower lip wobbling only noticeable if he was paying attention. She huffs and slams her tool into the ground beside his head for extra measure before yanking it out and stomping over to Maki. Maybe it was cruel, but Megumi had only bad experiences with opening up his heart. Tsumiki was gone, Itadori had died yet now he was back but Megumi couldn’t find it in himself to rejoice. It had only felt worse.
Megumi partners up with Inumaki, who greets him with a ‘kelp’. Inumaki technically had no need for cursed tools. His speech was enough to defend him, of course. It did have its limits, though, and Megumi noticed that he was fairly decent at it. Would he ever need it, Megumi doubted it. He himself wasn’t too keen on using cursed tools, especially long combatted ones if he was using his shikigami. He didn’t want to risk accidentally hitting them while they attacked the same opponent. He did, however, make sure not to rely on just his shikigami.
Sparring with Inumaki passes along for a few minutes, and they don’t talk much. Megumi did know how to understand most of his words, but they focused more on just training. He did notice, though, that Inumaki had gotten a lot better at handling the tools. Likely the doing of Maki. Megumi’s leg aches when he applies too much pressure on it while fending off a hit. When the whistle blows, Inumaki waves him off, and Megumi partners up with Panda as the other joins Maki.
Panda, even being a cursed doll, certainly wasn’t to be underestimated. Especially with the power that he could have at maximum potential. With his brute strength, he could easily overpower Megumi’s defense. Gojo had taught him how to throw it off though, and he uses that same technique to help himself in that situation. Panda laughs.
“Well, Fushiguro-kun, you’re rather on edge today.” He says, repositioning himself. He was right. Megumi had put a bit of unnecessary force onto that deflect. Panda doesn’t ask any questions, and Megumi focuses on making sure that his leg won’t keep on bothering him everytime he fights with any of his classmates. In the next round would he fight Itadori or Maki? He didn’t want to go against either of them knowing that their strength would only tear his leg to worse pieces. He shakes off the thought and the whistle blows. Kugisaki waves over Inukami. He had already fought them both. Panda goes to Itadori. Maki it was, then.
Maki was the most well qualified for the use of cursed tools. She relied on them, without any cursed energy of her own and not being able to see curses without her glasses. There was no doubt that she wouldn’t go easy on him, even considering that they were technically related and he was her junior. Maki didn’t have any bias.
“Ready to go down, Fushiguro-kun?” She asks, twirling her weapon as she looks at him through the corner of her eye. Megumi nods. He didn’t plan on letting his leg mess him up this time. Megumi attacks first, and Maki keeps him off. He keeps up with her for the first part, getting his own attempts of a jab in before she hits the weapon off. Megumi steps back and attacks, Maki steps forward and defends. They keep going, Their partnership goes smoothly enough. Megumi didn’t feel his leg complain once, and he cracks his knuckles. The whistle blows. His last partner, Itadori.
Itadori grins when they walk up to each other.
“You’re gonna eat my dust, Fushiguro!”
He says, pointing to himself with his thumb, clearly confident in his abilities. Megumi’s leg protests when he digs his heel into the ground. Itadori charges first, an inhumane kind of speed hitting his weapon while he lifted it up to shield his upper body. They go around in a circle, Megumi parrying and bending his knees as he leans back and Itadori presses his weapon further towards him. It was an intricate dance of sorts, as Itadori goes one way and Megumi follows him, hitting and then receiving, defending and rebounding. Megumi’s face feels hot, like he was sick.
Itadori continues to jab at him, and Megumi slowly begins to feel sluggish in his steps. His leg doesn’t want to move as fast as it should, and when it does it feels as if a thousand spikes are shooting through it. Megumi tries to keep the reaction to it out of his expression. His hands feel clammy.
When the whistle blows, Itadori huffs and leans against his weapon, running a hand through his hair. “Geh, I’m worn out, Fushiguro.” He complains, though he looks completely fine to Megumi. He isn’t breathing too heavily, and there’s no sign of tiredness in his eyes or perspiration on his skin. Megumi feels the exact opposite.
“Fushiguro?” Itadori asks, tilting his head. Megumi raises up a hand, rubbing the side of his face. He steps forward and nearly trips, Itadori’s arms flying to brace him if needed. Megumi shakes them off, standing upright. His leg burned.
“Nothing. Leg cramp, that’s all.”
Itadori nodded, but he didn’t seem to buy it. It was the only convincing thing that he could come up with. “Kugisaki has some sort of treatment for that that she uses sometimes.” He offers, but Megumi rejects it. “It’s not that serious. Let’s just go.”
They return inside, the students crowding into the kitchen as they grab a drink of water. Megumi feels like the water was the only thing that he had needed at the moment. He couldn’t give a care to anything else in the moment as he titled his head back to let the water run down his throat.
Of course that it was in that moment that Gojo had to pop his head in with a smile that could only mean no good. Megumi could already feel the dread creeping into his chest. If he had to have a mission just after last night and the state he was in, he might actually complain about it. Of course, it wasn’t Gojo’s fault that they were assigned the missions that they were.
“Ah, my favorite students! All just where I need them!” He says, his arms splayed out by his sides before they clap together and rest by his face. Megumi and Kugisaki stare at him, and Itadori lights up. “Gojo-sensei!”
“Guess what~”
That was the confirmation that Megumi needed. He groans internally. “Where?”
“Not too far! Just about a thirty minute drive that Ijichi will take you to?” Gojo stretches out the word thirty and makes it seem more like a question than a fact. Kugisaki sighs, wiping at the edge of her eyes.
“This eyeliner took time, too.” She says regretfully, but Megumi knows that she’s more than good at keeping her makeup out of way from being smeared during fights. It’s almost impressive.
Gojo claps his hands together again and adjusts his blindfold. He points behind him with both thumbs, shifting his weight onto one leg. It takes Megumi a moment to realize that he was mimicking his posture. He scowls. “Ijichi's waiting out front, don't keep him waiting too l—”
Megumi pushes past him, sweat perspiring already against his forehead. He was tired and just wanted to rest for one second, damn it. Not even a moment's break for him. Such was the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.
Itadori had challenged Kugisaki to a race, and the both of them flew past him, shoving each other to get into the car first. Itadori manages to slip in, and the girl complains, crossing her arms.
“If you think I'm gonna sit next to you after that, you're wrong!” She says with an indignant emphasis, turning to look at Megumi. “Come on, Fushiguro.”
Although she calls him casually, Megumi could tell that she was still upset about his words earlier. He squeezes his eyes shut. She was being … sensitive, that was all.
Megumi gets into the middle seat of the car, and Kugisaki gets in after him. She makes no movement to get near him, instead leaning against the door after it closes, looking beyond the window. A thirty minute drive, as Gojo had assumed. A pain to have to wait for.
Unusually, the car ride remains silent for the first few minutes. It seemed that Kugisaki had gained a grudge against the two of them, the one against Megumi much stronger than the one against Itadori. Itadori himself just tapped his fingers against the handle of the car door next to him. It was Itadori who ended up breaking it, sighing loudly as he lifted his head up and sat sideways on the seat so that his legs were against the door, his back pushing against Megumi’s shoulder.
“Fushigurooo! How much longer?”
Itadori complains, emphasizing the ‘sh’ of his name and drawing out the last vowel, singing out his last question. Megumi tsks, eyeing him. “How would I know? Ask Ijichi-san.”
At the sound of his name, the man in the driver's seat startles. He adjusts his glasses quickly, squinting at the directions placed before him. “Ah—well, twenty minutes.” He stammers out, before his gaze shifts back onto the road.
“Really? Still so long?” Itadori sighs, resting his head on Megumi's shoulder as he pushes on the car door with his shoes. Megumi was only a moment away from telling him off when the car abruptly halts, and Itadori flies forward a bit, slamming against the seat in front of him. He groans as Ijichi apologizes, quickly sitting back upright—correctly, this time—with his seatbelt buckled in as he rubs his forehead. Megumi can hear Kugisaki snickering at the boy.
Itadori pushes forward, looking over Megumi to her. “What’s so funny?” He asks pointedly, staring her down. Kugisaki returns the look, resting a hand on her hip. They stare at each other for a good few moments before Megumi extends out his hand to push Itadori back into his seat. “She’ll laugh at you again if you end up banging your head because you’re still sitting like that.”
Itadori groans, and Kugisaki makes a comment to which he snarkily replies. Kugisaki gapes at him, before turning her body so that she faces away from the both of them. Itadori does the same. Megumi stares ahead. He knows that they would have made up sometime during the battle, anyway. Hopefully it would be before anyone got injured for them to snap out of their childish bickering.
Luckily for them, as Megumi gets out of the car on Itadori's side and closes the door, a mirror of Kugisaki's actions, the two seem to have made up. Somewhat.
“Ready to kick ass?”
“You bet.”
Both of the stars grin, Itadori flexing his fingers, Kugisaki twirling her hammer. Megumi takes the lead for them, venturing into the forest. The ride had allowed his leg to stop complaining for a while, but he knew that it would come back to bite him soon. The exorcism would have to be done quickly.
For the first few minutes the trio had no luck locating the two grade three spirits. They had come across a couple of grade four nothings, but they didn't lead the group to any higher powered spirits. It was clear that Kugisaki was starting to get frustrated with the fruitless search, and Megumi shared her sentiments.
In the end, it was Itadori who had called out, pointing into an old shaft.
“I think it’s in there.” He notes, his thumb under his chin and his index finger curled over it, his head angled. Kugisaki raises an eyebrow and peeks down into it. Complete darkness, but there were faint sounds and Megumi could sense an output of cursed energy. There was definitely something camping down there.
“It’s an abandoned shaft. They’re unstable, us going in would be dangerous.. We’ll have to lure it out somehow.” Megumi replies, and Itadori hums in thought.
“How about I go down there?” He asks, pleased as if he had just thought of the most efficient course of action that they could take. Megumi resists the urge to hit him over the head.
“Didn’t you hear me?” He scolds, irked. Itadori shrugs.
“Well, you said it’d be dangerous if we went in. So, what if I went in?”
“Geez, are you an idiot.” Kugisaki says, the look in her eyes unamused.
“A one person job, just to like, holler, and have it come run out at us. If it collapses on the curse, it’d be gone, right?”
“If it collapsed on the curse,” Megumi sighed, “then we’d have to dig into all the rubble to try to get to it to have it properly exercised.”
Itadori makes an ‘o’ shape with his lips, nodding with fervor. Kugisaki groans, impatiently tapping her foot against the ground. “Are we going to wait for this stupid curse or are we gonna beat its ass?”
“Just wait.” Megumi hisses out, dragging his fingers down his face. Couldn’t his peers think properly for just one damn mission? At least they were … somewhat reliable. What they lacked in brains was certainly made up for in teamwork.
Teamwork.
Even if they had gotten a short break after Itadori’s so called ‘death’, he and Kugisaki were given another mission together. The car ride there was empty. They had barely known Itadori for a few weeks and yet Megumi had his arm almost torn off and Kugisaki had let a good hit go because they had both expected Itadori to be there to cover for them. Neither of them had admitted it, but both of them had known exactly what was causing their fumbles.
Who was causing their fumbles.
They didn’t have to worry about that this time. They had grown well adapted to each other’s styles by now, each easily able to watch the other’s back. Megumi makes the shape for one of his rabbits and sends it down into the shaft. Itadori gasps when it appears, staring straight at Megumi.
“You never told me you could use those!”
Megumi’s eye twitches as he takes a step back from the entrance of the shaft. Kugisaki catches on and steps with him. Itadori, who’s about to poke his head back into the shaft, remains oblivious to the plan. The rabbit comes back up and Itadori coos as he catches it. Megumi grits his teeth and grabs the boy by his hood, pulling him back just as a monstrous curse the size of a small school bus bursts through the shaft. He hadn't expected it to be so large, but all curses were ugly. This one was no different
It takes them only a moment to recover from the blow of splintering wood and dust that downpours on them to take their positions. The curse squeals at them, walking around them before attacking Kugisaki first, skittering its blue spider-like legs towards her, teeth snapping. She hammers a nail at it as Itadori runs behind it, Megumi calling back the rabbit into the shadows as he summons his dog again. The demon dog, at least, could gain its energy back while resting. Megumi could not say the same for himself.
Itadori lands in a good few hits before a low gurgling noise begins to resonate through the curse. Itadori ducks down just in time before the curse sends a large glob of acid-like liquid through the air. It strikes a tree, and the substance burns through the bark, leaving a crater steaming with heat. Kugisaki makes a sound of disgust.
“Don’t get hit by the curse snot, Itadori.” She mocks, as the curse turns to face Megumi, who sends the demon dog towards it. Demon dog narrowly dodges the curse as it makes a move to grab it, before it roars and runs back towards Megumi again. Squinting, Megumi ducks beneath it as it bounds towards him, reappearing behind it where Kugisaki drives a nail into its side. It screeches, turning around clumsily and focusing its gaze on the trio. It looks at each of them with its sullen, beady eyes, before charging at Megumi.
Megumi picks up a sturdy enough branch just in time to block himself as its teeth snarl and clamp, attempting to bite his head off. He ducks just as it does so, and he can hear someone yelp from around him; Itadori, likely thinking that his head really did fall off. The strength of the curse wasn’t unexpected, it was the size of a large van. It didn’t mean that it didn’t catch him off guard any less.
He jabs the sharp end on the branch into its eye, causing it to fall off of him. He stumbles for a bit, and then Itadori was beside him and helping him up, stepping before him and forming a fist around a cursed tool he was provided with. Demon dog makes its way back into the battlefield, clawing and biting at the curse.
Yet the curse’s skin was as tough as cement, and his demon dog whined as the rough of it hit its tongue. Megumi swears under his breath. Kugisaki could likely hurt it if she could find something to use resonance on. The question was, what?
The curse hadn’t left behind anything. Not except the acid. The acid.
“Kugisaki! The tree!”
“What are you on about?”
“The ‘curse snot’, the acid, whatever you call it—”
He’s cut off by Kugisaki gagging, staring at him as if he had grown two heads. “If you think I’m taking any orders from someone I’m ‘not even close with’ you’re wrong! And I’m not going anywhere near that—”
“You have more nails, just go!”
Kugisaki sighs, shuddering as she makes her way towards the burnt tree, twirling a nail with her hand before slamming it down into the dried, transparent solid with her hammer, yelling out.
It took Kugisaki driving a nail into its acidic product to use resonance for it to begin bleeding that dark type of purple from the curse who shrieked in pain and wildly stomped around. The ground shook beneath them, and the three held onto trees and branches alike to steady themselves. The curse stopped moving, and Megumi stepped forward to properly exorcize it.
A gurgling arises from its throat. An injured inhale? Megumi is too slow to run when he remembers that it had made that exact sound before launching that acid.
His foot takes a step back, and he instantly recoils as the pain begins to pang through him, and he stops in his tracks. The curse lifts up its nasty old head and its mouth seems to open in slo-motion. Neither Itadori nor Kugisaki noticed it yet. Didn’t they say that everything seemed to move slower when a person was about to receive a lethal hit?
It couldn’t have been in just the movies, right?
He sees the acid fly towards him.
Someone screams.
It’s dark.
He can’t see.
Megumi is afraid of the dark.
—
The next few moments had passed by in blurs. He was in the dark place for a long while, and sometimes he would hear things, feel things, taste things and smell things too. He could hear the screaming and yelling. He could hear running and the crunching of grass and twigs and fallen leaves. He could hear a car door slam and an engine rev to life. He could hear shoes against concrete and the rustling of sheets and the beeping of a monitor.
He could feel the burning sensation in his eyes and the aching in his legs. He could feel the wind whipping at him as he moved, the uncomfortable way his body was sat against a leather seat. He could feel the dip of a bed and the sting of a needle.
He could taste the metallic tang of blood. He could taste the metal smoothness of a spoon and the bitterness of medicine being trickled down his throat.
He could smell the forest and the air. He could smell the gas of a car and the freshness of water. He could smell the hygienic mint of a doctor's office. He could smell burning.
He couldn't see anything.
No matter how many times he woke up and he was sure that he was awake, he couldn't see anything. His eyes were open and he could tell that they were open but there was no color or light or anything. It was just dark. Just like his nightmares when he was younger. Except there were no monsters chasing him. Not yet, at least.
—
When Megumi opens his eyes, absolutely positive that he is awake, he attempts to move.
His arm has something attached to it, and it's restrained. He thinks that if he pulls it, it pulls something else along with it. His legs feel as heavy as lead, though he doesn't feel his leg hurting as badly as it had before. His eyes ache numbly, but they didn't sting as badly as they had before. He isn't sure of his memory, nor of what had happened. He remembered those feels and tastes and smells and sounds, but he doesn't know what they mean.
The mission.
Had he been hit with that acid? He surely had been. There was no other explanation to the screaming that he had heard. According to the sounds, he had been taken back by car to Jujutsu High, and then to Shoko's office for treatment. According to the taste of medicine and the feel of the mattress, he was laying on a bed. According to the smell of blood and mint, he was injured and needed treatment.
He still couldn't see.
He grunts, trying to move his hands up to rub his eyes when someone catches them, gently but firmly shoving them back down.
“You might not want to do that.”
A pause.
“Shoko-san?”
Megumi asks, but only fragments of his voice escape his lips. His voice is hoarse and it pains him to talk. His throat is unusually parched, and within a few moments he feels a glass being pressed to his lips. He tries to bring his hands back up to hold it, yet when he adjusts his grip on it, Shoko's hold (he's assuming that it was her) remains, guiding it so that it easily slides down his throat.
“Easy, you've been out for a while.”
Megumi blinks. At least, he thinks he does. He isn't sure if he is doing anything at all.
“What—”
“That curse was a high grade. It had some sort of card that it could use to spew some sort of substance. From what the kids are saying, it acted like acid. You're lucky that didn't hit your chest. It could have burned straight through your lungs.”
Dead.
“You can probably tell, but you can't see. You won't be able to for a while.”