Archive of Our Own

Bursting through the freezing, enormous ice wall came 15-year old Itadori Yuji. The cool of it all makes his body feel numb while it floods over and sticks to his skin. Behind him, still frozen in the wall was Second Year Maki Zen’in, who had helped Yuji with the fight against Sukuna, and briefly, Uraume. 

It’s an inconvenient situation, but somehow he was left less unscathed in the ice enough to break free from it. Itadori badly wants to stick behind to try and find a way for Maki to free herself from the ice, but he knows well enough that she was strong enough to bust out of it soon, too, especially if Yuji had managed to do so.

Besides the ice wall, this is the least of his worries.

Layering on Yuji’s face, arms, hands, legs and the rest of his body were thin slices that were caused by Sukuna’s attack. Speaking of Sukuna, he had done the impossible and became a bigger threat than he already was, because now the 1,000 year old curse was inside (with complete control) of Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji’s best friend. 

Really, Megumi feels like a bit more than just a ‘best friend’ to Yuji but neither of them have spoken about it… and now Itadori was starting to get anxious that he wouldn’t ever get to. 

It was taking everything in Yuji from the moment he stumbled back into reality after Sukuna took over his body (from a vow Yuji did not even remember making) to not burst into tears. It keeps replaying in the boy’s head. The moment when he awakened to find out that within a minute or so he was gone, that Megumi had vanished as well. 

“SUKUNA!!!” Itadori screams for the last time, as loud as he can.

While he’s shouting, Uraume and Sukuna have started to take off up into the sky on a more off-putting and powerful version of Megumi’s shikigami, Nue. 

Yuji’s shout rattles his own ribcage. His heart is burning from all of the adrenaline, his throat feels harsh and raw from exerting its volume for the day, way beyond belief. This same yell that Yuji felt so deep in his soul and stomach was tingling at the back of his brain, reminding him of a similar circumstance.

Right. That same gut feeling. He had felt this before, twice at least.

He hadn’t technically shouted, but instead spoke with such anger that came deep within his gut that it felt like he might as well have. Right when Mahito had toyed with Junpei Yoshino, a new friend.

‘I’M GOING TO KILL YOU’ is what Yuji had said to the curse who wasn’t even bothering to take him seriously in the first place.

The other time was another incident while Mahito was, yet again, at the scene of the crime. Dealing with two clones at once, the real one with Idle Transfiguration in the palm of his hand, directly heading towards Nobara Kugisaki.

Yuji had tried to warn his friend but it just wasn’t enough time. He clearly remembers the guttural scream of words that left his mouth, though. ‘RUN! KUGISAKI!!!’.

Two. 

Two times Yuji Itadori has failed to save someone dear to him in a situation where he was present…and he was not about to make it a third.

There was no way he’d forgive himself. He was already still holding the Shibuya Incident over his head, even if Higuruma had law evidence and further proved in court that it wasn’t the boy. 

Fushiguro couldn’t be gone. Not before Yuji apologized to him and fully admitted the burning feeling within his chest that paired with butterflies in his stomach. It miraculously always appeared the second the two of them were close together.

He isn’t sure if Megumi would even feel the same, or if it would ruin everything between them…but it would be a hell of a lot worse to not even get to say it. 

Ringing through the teen’s head was the loud and echoing sound of laughter as Yuji’s scream just wasn’t enough to stop the two curses from taking off right in front of him. It pisses Yuji off even more just thinking about how something so painful and serious was being taken as nothing more than a joke, like he was their afternoon entertainment on television.

Another chord that struck all too similar to Junpei.

Itadori feels his eyes start to sting harder than before as he watches his best friend being taken away from him.

Yuji runs as fast as he can, as far as he can. He runs until his thighs start to burn and threaten to give out on him. He runs until he’s sure he couldn’t see Sukuna or Uraume in sight any longer. 

He yells, too. 

He yells for Fushiguro, begging him to come back and threatening for Sukuna to get down unless he was a coward, but of course none of it matters. Why would it? 

Sukuna gets further and further away until he was nothing more than a speck in the air and then finally, gone. At that moment it was as if someone had cut a piece of string that had been holding Itadori Yuji all together, with nothing more than a pair of scissors. 

Is it selfish to cry over this? 

Over one person when before he had cried over so many people…? 

Does he even deserve to cry because it was his fault in the first place? 

If he hadn't swallowed that finger that day…then none of this wouldn’t have happened. 

If Megumi had actually considered it when Yuji worriedly asked if it was okay to still be around each other with Sukuna around, maybe it would’ve been okay, too. 

If Megumi had just listened when Itadori told him that he was just going to keep hurting and suffering with Yuji around, maybe this wouldn’t have happened, either. 

Damn it. Damn it, Fushiguro. Damn it. 

‘Megumi isn’t dead. He isn’t dead.’

Yuji attempts to repeat these words to knock some sense into himself, but it does no good.

Before he knows it, his hands start to tremble while his knees drop to the floor, suddenly having the weight of cinder blocks. It seems like all the adrenaline from pure determination has reached the end of its tank.

The boy’s breathing starts to stagger with his lungs feeling like they’re on fire; His vision slowly starts to blacken out around the edges with everything from the past couple minutes fully resting on his body. 

It’s true that Megumi isn’t technically dead but given the state of events…he might as well be.

What resides at the top of Megumi Fushiguro’s body is a soul that is no longer his own. Nobody in 1,000 years had been able to find a vessel of Sukuna that the host was able to keep under control while sharing the body…and this only was further proving true.

Megumi hadn’t snapped out of it the moment everything went down, unlike Itadori that demonstrated the first time he swallowed the finger back in the summer. 

The whole reason Yuji’s even standing here, alive, is because he was supposed to keep Sukuna at bay. His one purpose, thanks to Fushiguro and Gojo. The plan today was supposed to be easy, nothing short of simple. Yuji was going to sacrifice himself to Angel in order to make sure that Sukuna was gone for good and that Gojo could come back with no hitches. 

Thinking back on it, maybe he should’ve done this earlier. At least then he would’ve been of some use to everyone. But now…

Yuji couldn’t help but feel like it’s all his fault.

He remembers what Todo said about carrying on the wishes of fallen friends and allies and how Megumi scolded him, saying to not be selfish and annoying about the whole Sukuna situation because it was their fault in the first place.

At this very moment, Itadori’s world feels like it’s crumbling due to the actions he has made, and it’s taking a lot out of him to not immediately blame himself, especially without his voice of reason. 

He would give anything to get an earful from Fushiguro right about now. A rant about how Yuji shouldn’t have been so reckless and stupid, to feel his presence standing beside him and maybe if he was lucky he’d be able to put his arm over Megumi’s shoulder with a smile that spoke a thousand words.

Really, he just wants Megumi back. More than anything. 

Itadori’s eyes sting once more and to pair with it are hot tears coming down his cheeks that seep into, and past the cuts around his face. It burns. 

“Why…” His throat croaks out a single word filled with frustration and sadness all at once. 

A cold set of hands land on one of Itadori’s arms. The boy looks up, still in a haze with the feeling that everything is in slow motion.

Maki is there. She’s crouching to Yuji’s height on the rubble and asking him something, but it just sounds slightly muffled to Yuji in return. 

“…an…ou…ove…?” 

Yuji closes his eyes, scrunching his eyelids as tight as he can to try and gain some sort of concentration to decipher what she was saying. Focus. Listen. 

“Itadori. Can you move?” Her tone was stern and low, concern dripping off each word. 

“I can move.” The boy lies, but isn’t actually sure if it’s truly a lie. There’s only one way to find out, and it’s through trial and error. He opens his eyes once more and while the sharp feeling remains, he refuses to let any more tears drop from them. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. I managed to dodge the cleave attack, but by the looks of it, you didn’t. You should be fine. The cuts don’t look extremely deep. He definitely wasn’t at his strongest, there.” As Maki speaks, she stands up slowly. 

The truth of it was that her cheek was aching from where Sukuna managed to land a punch on her and she was a bit stiff from the Frost Calm that Uraume used, but in the scheme of things it really wasn’t as bad and it could've been. 

Itadori follows suit by standing up as well, but when he attempts to, he has to push his hands off the ground for an extra boost.

Maki reaches her palm out for Yuji to grab hold of but he stumbles upwards. It almost made her want to snort, thinking about how he really doesn’t know how to ask or accept help…he’s stubborn, and she can relate. 

Despite not taking Maki’s hand and standing on his own, Yuji’s legs have the stabilization of jell-o and are threatening to fall any minute. 

Maki glances at her junior, but doesn’t make a move to mention the tear stained cheeks and obvious desperation she had heard from him just moments ago when Yuji burst off running after Fushiguro’s body. It wasn’t her place to say anything, she decided. 

“Let’s go. Ieri-san can heal your wounds.” Maki points her thumb backwards in the direction that they had come from. “We should let everyone else know the situation, too.” 

“…What about Kurusu? Is she…” Before Itadori can finish his sentence, all of his words click together in his head like a puzzle.  

It all came flooding back.

Yuji had seen Kurusu’s body descending from the top of the building at an intense speed. He watched it fly with horror in his eyes and anger bubbling up higher. He even heard the ‘THUD’ her body made as it hit the rubble. 

It’d be another thing that Yuji wouldn’t let himself live down, if Kurusu died because of two reasons. Those being:

1.) The boy hadn’t even had the chance to apologize for the way he had treated her earlier due to a (and as Fushiguro pointed out, it was irrational) fear he had

2.) Kurusu had tried just as desperately and fearlessly to get Megumi back as well. He could never thank her enough for that.

Yuji might as well consider her blood to be stained on his hands if that was the case because it really was all his fault to begin with. 

Worst of all, with no Kurusu meant Gojo Satoru would be trapped in the Prison Realm for the rest of time.

There would be absolutely no hope for humanity in that scenario. Nanami had said it himself in Shibuya.

Itadori knows him, his friends and allies are strong, but they’re not the strongest. There’s only one person who would live up to that title. They need that person more than anyone to help save Megumi and defeat Sukuna. 

Itadori feels his heart stop for a moment while he holds his breath, awaiting his upper-class man’s response. The anticipation of it all was starting to make it feel longer than it actually was. 

“Ui-Ui teleported her directly to Ieri-san. She’s not dead. Takaba helped while I ran to take on Sukuna.”

A long, unsteady exhale releases from Yuji as he feels a slight weight being lifted off of his shoulders. It’s not much, in fact it feels like barely anything has changed, but still, it’s a weight. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah, me too.” Maki responds while the two head towards their base.

After what felt like the longest day in the history of days, Yuji feels immensely exhausted by nightfall.

The whole chain of events had started at around  3PM and by the time Maki and everyone else had regrouped after the failed rescue mission, it had at least been an hour.

Itadori takes a seat with his eyes shut, legs dangling ever so slightly over a chair that Ieri had in her makeshift healing room. 

Ever since earlier in the afternoon, Yuji wishes more than anything that he could have one moment of silence without his brain beating himself up. Granted, his head hasn’t really known peace ever since he digested the cursed object in June.

It was more of a presence than a voice half the time, but he still felt it lingering. 

It was different, this time. Something Yuji hadn’t felt in a long time was purely his own presence. No second voice or body. Just himself.

His own thoughts were the only thing swarming his brain without any objections or heckling. It was sort of nice, to be able to be wholly and truly himself again…although it would’ve been great to have it happen in a normal circumstance. 

The teen definitely would’ve been made fun of by now for imagining whatever he was thinking. Sukuna would’ve laughed and called him pathetic, hopeless and then likely would’ve ended the conversation without any room for comebacks… unless he was feeling particularly entertained.

Yuji feels his brows furrow as he unintentionally imagines the scenario. He hopes that he wasn’t being too much of a distraction and bother to Ieri, who was currently tending to the boy’s wounds. 

The healing process was over in a minute or so, because just as Maki had mentioned, his wounds weren’t too serious.

He was however, missing a left pinkie finger that Sukuna had refused to heal back before swapping bodies, and given the fact that it was now ingested and lying within Fushiguro’s body, he wasn’t getting it back. Yuji was fine with it. It served as some sort of punishment to himself, a reminder. 

Itadori’s right ear also happened to be caught in the fire of Sukuna’s cleave attack, slicing the top of it right off his body. He was just lucky that it wasn’t anything fatal or terribly damaging. His hearing was fine, it was just the pain of the injury that he has to endure for now, until it properly heals.

“I’ve healed the cuts along your body, but your ear and pinkie…” Shoko starts to speak but pauses when she sees Itadori open his eyes and slowly touch his ear then putting his focus on his left hand, quietly observing. 

“It’s okay, thank you Ieri-san.” Yuji hops off of the chair and takes a further look at himself by pushing up his sleeves to his uniform and holding a hand over his right ear. 

“Your injuries won’t worsen, and I suspect that it might take some getting used to. There’s always tomorrow to work. You really should get some rest, if you can.” 

Itadori can’t keep denying the fact that even though his body has physically healed, he has yet to give himself the time to mentally heal. He still feels achy, incredibly tired and even though the blood that had been running everywhere throughout his body is gone without even leaving any stains, it still feels like it’s stuck to his skin.

It’s seriously killing him to think about how Fushiguro was out there, somewhere, and Yuji wasn’t able to save him at this very moment. He was going to, of course. He did make a promise to Megumi when they met up again after The Shibuya Incident. 

‘So, start by saving me, Itadori.’

Yuji remembers it clear as day.

He had already saved Megumi once before in June when the two had first met…but really, they saved each other that day.

Yuji had stopped a curse from killing Fushiguro by taking an immense risk (that he wasn’t even aware of) and swallowing the cursed object finger and in return Megumi had expressed to Gojo that he didn’t want Itadori to die and that it was his own personal feelings. 

Itadori was going to do it again. He was going to save Fushiguro, just like he had promised and prove to him that he can be of use without being a hindrance.

He didn’t want to keep hurting the person he cared about most and god dammit, this was the last time it was going to happen. 

Yuji feels it, now, the anger starting to burst in his body while he quietly imagines all the possible ways he’s going to destroy Sukuna when he sees him next.

The different ways to save Megumi, too. 

“Right. Thank you, again.” Yuji breaks out of his thoughts and bows to Shoko before exiting the room and treading down the hallway. 

‘I’m begging you, Itadori. I need your strength.’

“Don’t worry, Fushiguro. I’m on my way. Hang in there.” Yuji whispers to himself, hoping that somehow, somewhere, Megumi will feel his words. 

It’s early July, the weather is unbearably hot and sticky with the sun beaming down way too bright for anyone to possibly enjoy…unless you were a psychopath or a tourist that happened to pick the worst season to visit.

Gojo had given the kids a day off due to extreme weather (but really because it was annoying and he would rather just keep to himself with a can of cola and video games) so it gave everyone an opportunity to have a resting day. 

Nobara somehow has the energy and will to go out to the city in this type of heat. She had even offered the boys to go with her and that the company might not be so bad, but both had passed.

She whined a bit about how Itadori was supposed to say yes and carry her bags, but he rolled his eyes in return while waving his hand in response. She then scolded Fushiguro for being lame and left with Ijichi about half an hour after the interaction. 

Megumi was in his room.

Yuji was in his.

Truthfully, it was extremely boring to know this.

Itadori sat up from being sprawled out in his bed, dropping a manga volume of something he didn’t particularly care about, onto the floor as he did so. The book made a light ‘thud’ while Yuji slipped out of his bed and groaned, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

In an attempt to get some sort of cooler weather, Itadori had left his sliding door open a couple inches…but it wasn’t particularly working. Sometimes, if he was lucky there would be a breeze of air, but it didn’t feel all that great considering that it was still hot out.

The cicadas that were buzzing and screaming about like it was nobody’s business were really starting to irritate him anyway, so he shut the door completely.

His room lacked a fan since he had just gotten to Jujutsu High and all, it remained painfully dull looking aside from the one poster the boy had taken from home.

Yuji understood that Megumi has been here for a while, so it was more than worth a shot to ask if he had a fan to share.

The three first years had been spending a lot of time together as of the recent week, so it wasn’t as if Itadori felt uncomfortable to walk next door and just ask for the hell of it. They were technically roommates, after all!

Barefoot, with a pair of dark red gym shorts and pale orange t-shirt, Itadori padded off to the hallway and stood in front of Fushiguro’s room, momentarily hesitating. 

They talked all the time…so why was it that Yuji found his heart burning a hole in his chest? It wasn’t like Fushiguro hated him, in fact Itadori believes that he even likes him (though he would probably never outright say it).

Yuji slowly raises his arm up, right hand forming into a fist and holding it up to the door for a couple seconds, anxious again. Was it the summer heat that was doing this? It was uncomfortable, so maybe so…

Yuji’s fist gently lands on the door and at first he actually surprises himself to see it there. The sound of the wood almost even startles him. He can hear the echoes of the door against his fist go through the hallway and his head at the same time.

Well, there’s no turning back at this point. He knocks again in a little pattern, something to loosen up the nerves. 

For a moment he’s convinced that maybe Fushiguro was taking a nap or just didn’t want to answer, but right as Yuji started to consider those possibilities, Megumi opens the door.

He’s also barefoot with a t-shirt too, but is somehow still wearing sweats in this weather. His shirt is a nice white color but his sweats are black, white lines running down the side of his legs.

“HUUHHH? How are you still wearing pants in this weather?! Aren’t you hot?” Yuji finds himself blurting out words he did not think about beforehand (which happens often), completely even missing the question he wanted to ask in the first place. 

Megumi frowns immediately and rolls his eyes. “Did you seriously bother me on our day off just to make fun of my clothes?” 

“…OH! Right! Hey, Fushiguro, do you have a fan in there?” Itadori tilts his head to the side, trying to catch a peek inside the boy’s room until Megumi steps to the side and blocks his view, still resting his hand on the doorknob. 

“Maybe. What’s it to you? Didn’t I tell you that my room was off-limits?”

“Aww come on…” Yuji frowns and whines slightly, pulling his head back out of the way from Megumi’s door…partially afraid that his head was going to be slammed into it again. “Can we share it just for today? I’m sweating my ass off over there…”

Megumi blinked and stayed quiet for a minute…then let out a big sigh before opening his door wider and stepping aside. “Yeah, okay, whatever, get in here, just don’t make a ton of noise or I’m kicking you back out again.”

Itadori smiles and fist pumps, whispering: ‘yes!’ not even particularly trying to talk to himself. “When have I ever made a bunch of noise, huh?” He asks, walking in his neighbor’s room.

Fushiguro blinks again, almost thinking that Itadori was making some sort of joke that he didn’t quite catch, but after a second of silence with no indication that there was a punchline, he can see that the messy haired pink boy is being serious. “Just the other day ago you were yelling about a sushi place.”

“Yeah, BECAUSE it has a BULLET TRAIN!” 

Megumi rolls his eyes again, swearing that one day they were going to pop out of his skull at this rate. “Just none of that. The weather is giving me a headache and I don’t need it to get worse.”

Yuji stops in his tracks then pouts. “I give you headaches?”

“All the time. I can’t believe some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth sometimes.” Fushiguro responds but pauses after he sees the joke didn’t quite land the way he wanted to, he feels his face flush up momentarily. “I mean—I don’t mean it in a bad way…though you are pretty stupid sometimes.”

“Ah, yeah I know. Believe me.” Yuji’s face loosens a bit, chuckling while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, glad to know I don’t completely give you headaches, then! There’s no possible way it could be JUST me when Kugisaki talks just as much, honestly…”

Itadori plops down on the wooden floor, folding his legs together and tossing his head back, palms faced flat on the floor. He sighs of relief, unintentionally letting a small smile form on his face as the cool air from the fan placed directly in front of him, blows through his hair and brushes against his face every couple of seconds. 

Megumi finds himself staring as he gently closes his door and stands right next to his bed. His eyes lock onto Yuji’s back and slowly makes his way to Yuji’s face. It’s not until the fan drifts away from Itadori’s direction that Megumi realizes he was staring for probably much longer than he should’ve.

He shakes his head, snapping himself out of his brief trance while his face heats up again…though he was choosing to blame it on the weather, too.

“Man, this is the best.” Yuji says as the fan hits his direction once more. His smile became bigger than the first time. 

“…Yeah…” Megumi slowly lowers himself onto his bed with his legs over the side, feet touching the floor.

He’s staring again.

He’s staring and he can’t figure out why his eyes won’t rip away from Yuji Itadori’s flushed cheeks or his tousled pink hair or the way his smile seemed to brighten up the room, even though it was physically impossible or just the way that Itadori was even breathing. 

Fushiguro grumbles to himself, though it must’ve been louder than he thought because suddenly Yuji flips his head around to make eye contact. It shocks Megumi, thinking he’s been caught for his crime but instead Itadori tilts his head slightly with confusion.

“You okay? Should I stop talking?” Yuji’s eyes are locked onto Megumi’s, lightly filled with concern while his eyebrows were furrowing. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, I mean you made a noise. I didn’t know if I was talking too much. Am I?”

Megumi shakes his head in response, feeling like he was about to start sweating from the eye contact.

He sees that Itadori is across the room, but something about it just makes him feel like they’re face-to-face. As if their noses are touching and he can feel Itadori’s breath with each word that comes from his mouth.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Sorry, I guess I was just kind of thinking out loud or something.”

The expression on Yuji’s face immediately loosens, the fan hitting his direction. It ruffles his hair around while the two talk. “Oh, okay! That’s good. I do that sometimes, too.” He moves to turn around and face the fan again, but before he can, something on Fushiguro’s bed catches his eye. 

Yuji pushes himself off the wood flooring and instead of fully getting up, he hovers in a crouching position that puts him just barely high enough to catch a full glimpse of it. “Is that a Walkman?”

The words coming from Itadori’s mouth, again, catches Fushiguro off guard. He blinks, letting the words register in his head, then turning to the direction that Yuji was pointing at.

It’s a simple question, and Megumi obviously knows the answer, but it feels like he has completely forgotten how to speak. “This?” He asks, holding up the piece of machinery that has black earbuds dangling out of it.

Yuji nods and snorts. “No, I mean the other Walkman you have laying around—Yes that one.” He playfully remarks, fully standing up and letting his palms rest on the frame of Fushiguro’s bed. 

“Shut up.” Megumi responds, keeping the playful tone that Itadori started. “Yeah, it is. Surprised you even know what they look like, I didn’t picture you to be someone who knew about that sort of thing.”

“Come on, they’re not THAT old. Besides, I grew up with my grandpa. He showed me all kindsa stuff from his day.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeahhh, I guess I only really told Gojo-Sensei since he passed away when we first met and everything happened, you know?”

Right…Megumi had traced down the residuals that came from Yuji’s backpack on the first day they encountered and it did, indeed, lead to a hospital.

At the time Fushiguro didn’t have the time nor luxury to be bothered or possibly even think about what Itadori had been doing at a hospital. All he knew was that Yuji mentioned he was grieving over someone.

It wasn’t particularly a thing anyone could really ask about once the opportunity had passed anyway, so Fushiguro left it alone as it was. 

After that interaction, a large and much more important chain of events had happened, so it did end up slipping Megumi’s mind in the whole scheme of things. 

Thinking back on it now, though…it did make him feel a tad guilty and ashamed. “I’m sorry about your loss, by the way. I never said that before and I had no idea it was your grandpa.”

Yuji blinks and waves his hand in dismissal, letting a small smile take form on his face. “Don’t worry about it, you had an important thing going on. I’m just glad that nobody else died that day. Besides, my old man wouldn’t have wanted me dwelling on it for so long anyhow, so it’s kind of good that you came along when you did. You and Sensei helped me figure out more of a purpose for myself.”

Megumi nods in response, taking Itadori’s words and holding them close. 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

The fan’s blades whir in the back while providing cool air, cicadas can still be heard buzzing outside (but much less noticeable compared to Itadori’s room), Yuji’s fingers instinctively tapping on the wooden frame in a pattern he has made up. 

“Whaddya listening to, anyway?” Itadori leans forward slightly, eyes locked onto the Walkman and then focusing on Fushiguro. 

“Oh, it’s Weezer.” 

“No way, for real? I’ve heard people talk about their music before but I haven’t really heard nice things…is it actually good?”

“I mean, everyone has different tastes, but yes, I like it.”

“Can I listen with you?” As Yuji asks the question, his words register and hit his own brain moments later. His heart picks up the pace ever so slightly. “I mean—If that’s okay with you—I can just sit back on the floor, it’s no big deal, really! I was just asking cuz I’ve never actually listened—“

“You can.” Megumi responds, his face burning for what feels like the millionth time that day. He swears he even notices himself responding faster than he should’ve in addition, but maybe it was just his overthinking tendency.

“Is it okay if I…” Yuji lets go of the wooden railing on the bed and points to the empty half of the bed that Fushiguro wasn’t occupying. 

Externally, Itadori is playing it smooth, as if he has no sort of nerves wracked up whatsoever. Internally, however, it was a much different story. His heart is continuing to pound at an abnormal rate and he’s biting back the extreme urge to let the goofiest grin rest on his face.

Something about Megumi somehow made Yuji want to act even stupider than normal, and it was humiliating. 

Megumi nods, the heat on his cheeks just sinking in even more as he scooches to the left, pulling the walkman closer and out of the way.

He wants to stare again, and in fact he indulges in this want for just a moment as Yuji settles onto the bed, sitting criss-cross again. As Megumi feels the force of another weight on the bed, he quickly looks down and focuses on the wired earbuds poking out from the device that had gotten tangled slightly. 

The knot in the earbuds have been there for a bit, it was something Megumi couldn’t really be bothered with, but now that Yuji was here, he finds himself starting to fidget with the tied up wire. It might’ve been just to avoid eye contact…or Fushiguro just wants to make sure that everything is flawless at the moment.

Though, realistically, Itadori wouldn’t have said anything if there was a single knot in the earbuds. 

Fushiguro’s bed is nothing special, in fact it’s sort of small. Itadoris is the same size. It can hold two people but it’s just a bit of a tight squeeze. This leaves the two boys sitting shoulder to shoulder, arms brushed against each other while they both equally try to keep cool about it. 

Megumi offers the left earbud to Yuji, which he happily takes and plugs in immediately. Fushiguro takes the right and lets it sit in his ear as well.

A small shot of pain prickles at the front of Megumi’s head, reminding him of the words he had said earlier. In response, Fushiguro slumps down further on his bed, practically laying down but just sitting up ever so slightly. 

Itadori looks over at his friend, tilting his head and face coming a bit too close to Fushiguro’s own…though neither of them particularly notice until they make eye contact yet again. 

“…I wasn’t lying about my headache.” 

Yuji slightly pulls away from Megumi’s face, twiddling his fingers. “OH…oh, yeah…I can move if you want more room or something.” 

“No—No, it’s okay, I'm just gonna close my eyes for a bit when I play the CD.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind moving.”

“Itadori. I said it’s okay because it’s okay. I’m not just saying things to make you feel better.” 

Yuji almost snorts at the honesty of Fushiguro. It was one thing he was starting to see that he could rely on. He lets himself smile a bit, just knowing that he wasn’t an inconvenience was enough. “Okay. Thanks, Fushiguro.” 

“For what?” 

“Dunno. I just feel good when I'm around you. You’re honest and dependable. You always kinda tell it how it is, you know?” 

Megumi blinks. The side of his mouth twitches, threatening to display a smile but instead he bites the inside of his cheek and presses play on the Walkman. He shuts his eyes while folding his arms. “Shut up.” Is all he can feel coming out of his mouth, even though it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. 

Itadori laughs a little bit. A small, gentle laugh.

He knows by now that Fushiguro would never say anything to hurt him on purpose, especially nothing with malicious intent. It was just sort of a phrase he tended to use when he couldn’t come up with anything else, it seems like. 

While the music starts to play in their ears, Yuji glanced over to Megumi, his eyes focusing on the way his friend’s face had loosened slightly and how in the corner of Fushiguro mouth was something that looked like a bit of a smile…but not enough to make it obvious. He also notices Megumi’s long eyelashes for what seems like the thousandth time.

It was always something he couldn’t ignore.

Yuji shoves his thoughts aside and averts his eyes after a couple seconds, not wanting Megumi to wake up from feeling someone staring. Plus, he shouldn’t even be staring in the first place. He had always been told that it was rude, so this time it was no different. 

Itadori yawns, the warmth of the environment catching up to him. He slides down the bed slightly, his head resting on the top of the bed frame and wall while his back touches the bed. 

In an attempt to get the best of both worlds, Yuji closes his eyes too, trying to listen in on Megumi’s music while letting his eyes rest. However, his plan isn’t working. Itadori feels his head tilt to the left, right and sometimes straight forward while his body does a poor job at trying to stay awake.

The boy grumbles quietly and slides down even further on the bed, drowsily letting the side of his head rest on Megumi’s arm.

It wasn’t intentional, but he’d be lying if the warmth against his cheek coming from Megumi wasn’t comforting in some sort of way.

Yuji decides that he’ll wake up before Fushiguro does or that his friend won't mind.

The buzzing from cicadas, the whir of the fan, music from someone Itadori cares about more than he ever thought he could…what more was there to ask for?

Satisfied, Yuji smiles to himself before drifting off to sleep. 

“Meg…hey, wake up…” 

Fushiguro is lying on a cold, hard ground. He can’t move. His body is stuck in a fetal position, knees rising up to his chest while his hands are balled into fists, his arms laying against the ground. He’s barefoot, but still in his school uniform. 

His surroundings are dark with the only light source coming from above the surface of wherever he is. It’s a faint illumination, but still something to prevent the boy from being in the pitch black. Reflections of water rippling lays on top of Megumi and the floor while it moves slowly. 

All signs were pointing to being underwater, but there’s no air bubbles coming out from Fushiguro’s mouth or any possible way he would survive this long if it was really true. It does feel as if there’s some sort of crushing pressure sitting on top of him, resembling the ocean’s hydrostatic pressure. 

At first, Megumi tried to get up but it immediately resulted in failure.

He couldn’t even push himself off the ground without his arms shaking tenfold like he’s never felt before. He wasn’t sure if this was exactly true as he had no way to prove it… but it felt like the more Fushiguro tried to do something about the situation, the heavier the weight became. 

It was infuriating to say the least, especially considering he had no idea where he was or what was going on. 

It only clicked when Megumi heard Yuji’s voice very faintly from the top of the water-covered surface.

He sounded really far away and severely muffled, but each time Itadori spoke, Fushiguro always listened as intently as he could, trying to piece out what was going on while he was absent. 

He can tell that Yuji is yelling.

Sometimes the ground would rumble and rattle slightly, but never enough to let Megumi take action.

It only lasts a couple minutes or less. The weight on top of him feels like it’s threatening to crush his bones at that point, so Megumi just stops attempting to move altogether. 

Fushiguro hears the shouting of Itadori one final time, somehow even louder than anything he heard earlier. It’s quiet…then, there are muffled sounds of cackling and then nothing again.

It stays that way for a long time. Hearing nothing. 

While Megumi is forced to lay down, he closes his eyes, patiently waiting for time to pass by faster. It’s only a couple of hours later when he picks up a suppressed voice that sounds exactly like his sister’s. 

Tsumiki.

She had awoken, but not as herself. He remembers that. 

The ground rumbles occasionally, but not nearly half of much as earlier. Megumi can’t understand a word of what was going on or what was even happening, but at some point the muffled talking stopped.

He stops hearing his sister’s voice. It wasn’t really her, sure, but it was her. 

Fushiguro feels his entire body start to tremble without his control. He tries to stop, but he doesn’t win that fight. He can’t even understand what’s going on until his heart starts to burn and drops to the bottom of his aching stomach. 


He knows now.

He can feel it in his gut and throughout every inch of his body. 

Tsumiki is dead. 

Her blood is on his hands. 

Megumi’s own sister, his ONLY sister, and she’s gone. 

She’s never coming back. It’s all his fault. 

He did this to her. 

Fushiguro continues trembling while his throat forms a lump right in the middle. He wants to scream until his mouth feels raw, he wants to hold Tsumiki’s body and give it a burial at the very least… and most of all…he wants to get revenge on the being who used his own flesh and blood to do such a heinous crime. 

But the sad thing about all of this, is that Megumi Fushiguro can do nothing but grieve in silence. 

All by himself. 

He can’t scream or cry, but he senses tears running down his face like there’s no tomorrow. The salty water pooling from his eyes runs down his cheeks and then drops to the floor in rhythmic pitter patters. 

While all of this is happening, Megumi feels his body sink lower and further away from the very little bit of light he had in the first place.

What was muffled before, ceases to exist. He’s trapped with the worst grief he’s ever experienced, in the deepest pit of hell with not a clue how to get out. 

Maybe he doesn’t deserve to get out, he thinks to himself. 

How will he even be able to look at his own hands if he escapes?

How will he look Yuji right in his eyes, those soft and understanding brown eyes, and tell him what he had done? Would he even be able to say it outloud?

How would he admit to Itadori that he was wrong about this situation? Megumi had been way too overconfident and now it had cost him not only his own life, but his sister’s as well. 

The tears won’t stop rolling down his face as he cries silently, pulling his body inwards, tighter without even realizing it. The only sounds emitting from his mouth are shaky inhaling and exhaling, his body not even allowing him to hiccup or take deeper breaths.

The pressure on top of him no longer feels like crushing ocean weight but instead is washing over with overwhelming feelings of grief and despair. 

Was this how Itadori felt?

Fushiguro simply had brushed past the Shibuya Incident, he knew well enough that it wasn’t Yuji’s fault, no matter how much his friend pleaded and shoved for Megumi to agree with him…to say it was all because of him that any of it had happened. 

It was ridiculous and selfish. 

It was a series of events that had been lined up by multiple people and there was no plausible explanation for Yuji Itadori solely to blame for it. Besides, Megumi saved him first. 

It was their fault. Together. 

Logically, Fushiguro was aware of all of this. Emotionally, he has never experienced anything quite like it. It was easy for Megumi to push aside Yuji’s selfish and soul-crushing feelings towards himself…but without someone standing by Fushiguro’s side to do the same for him, something about the situation became tenfold heavier. 

Megumi slowly closes his eyes, the tears continuing to spill down his face while his body refuses to stop shaking. After a moment, he registers the feeling that he’s colder, as if someone had opened a door and let a huge draft in. 

The endless tears and trembling eventually comes to a stop…however, the burdensome feeling of hopelessness is there to stay. In the center of his chest lies a large, empty and metaphorical hole. 

Secretly, Fushiguro is holding out hope that by closing his eyes maybe, just maybe…he’ll fall asleep and never wake up. That he won’t have to deal with the situation that awaits him outside the prison he currently was being kept in. 

“…Meg…Meg, can you hear me? Wake up…”

That voice. 

The same string of words Megumi had heard earlier. 

The boy slowly opens his eyes, his eyelids feeling like a pile of bricks with weights tied together. His direction shifts upward, and he swears that he sees Itadori Yuji sitting there with his hand gently over Fushiguro’s arm. 

He’s wearing that orange shirt and red shorts that he wore on that day they spent together in July. The look on his face is soft, his smile somehow still felt like another form of light even in such darkness. Yuji’s sitting beside Megumi, transparent, but there.

He’s attempting to shake Fushiguro’s arm, but it’s not physically doing anything. 

“…Wake up…Megumi, wake up…Gojo-sensei brought back popsicles…!” 

At the mention of something that resembles food, Fushiguro remembers that stomach feels just as painstakingly empty as his chest. It’s an awful feeling.  

Megumi’s exhausted, sorrow-filled eyes stare right up at and through the hologram of Yuji. He has no idea why Itadori is here, why that specific version of him was there, but it wasn’t like Fushiguro could exactly ask him these sorts of things, anyway.

He’s once again left without any sort of clue. 

The boy looks away, back at the floor, eying his pool of tears he’s created. His eyelids are having a hard time staying open and the eyes themselves are burning, begging him to let them rest. Megumi closes his eyes once more, feeling as though he was going to cry again. 

“Megumi…! Megumi, Fushiguro…!” Yuji’s voice was soft, still…until it grew more powerful. He was speaking but it continued to be muffled, just like earlier. 

Megumi feels his eyebrows furrow slightly, his ears tuning as hard as they possibly can until the words become loud and clear (quite literally in this case).

”FUSHIGURO!! PLEASE!! WAKE UP! COME BACK!!” 

Megumi opens his eyes once more, faster than before as if it were some sort of wake-up call. His pupils are looking right up at the Itadori hologram, but this time he was battered up with lots of slashes and cuts all over his body. His uniform was torn up in areas, as well. 

Itadori’s running in place, though Fushiguro can see how fast he’s really going by the way his hair was moving and just the sheer movements of his legs and arms. 

This must’ve been from earlier…

The image of Itadori gets smaller and smaller, but the running and screaming does not stop. It eventually gets drowned out by a loud cackle that seems to be coming from his own body, but does not sound like him at all.

The floor rumbles ever so slightly and the voice echoes and bounces from all over. It’s so powerful that it almost hurts.

The sickness in Megumi’s stomach rushes back over his body just as he hears it. He was able to pick apart Yuji’s face while his hologram self was above him earlier. Completely past the obvious wounds on his skin, Itadori’s face looked absolutely (and metaphorically) crushed. 

His eyes were maybe the widest Fushiguro had ever seen them. His mouth was wide open as Yuji yelled over and over, non-stop in-between large and heavy breaths from exertion while his eyebrows were so furrowed that if the roles were reversed, Itadori would’ve scolded Megumi, telling him that the lines were going to stick if he kept frowning like that. 

Fushiguro isn’t sure of this last detail because after all, it was only a hologram and he couldn’t see for himself, but…he’s very certain that in those wide eyes of Itadori Yuji, that there were tears present. 

This image of Megumi’s best friend does not leave his mind, even though it hurts to think about, nonetheless see. He can’t stop thinking about how not only was his body being used to hurt those around him he cares about most, but the fact that he chose not to listen to Yuji’s whining which was nothing more than annoying at the time. 

Fushiguro can admit, in plain sight while he’s forced to be stuck with his actions, that Itadori was right. Even if he could never say it out loud to him, he could at least come to terms with it himself. 

Why did he let it happen? 

Fushiguro knows that being split up from Itadori wouldn’t have helped his case with Tsumiki, her fate was sealed the moment she entered that coma…but…maybe at least they would’ve been able to save her in the end. 

Maybe, at least then, Megumi would’ve been able to give her a hug, one of the tightest ones she’d probably have experienced and apologize for it taking so long…letting her know that all of the time they had spent apart, he really was giving it all he could.

How exhausting it was.

She would’ve let him talk and listen to his story and then bring it to a conclusion with a hug in return of her own…except that one would’ve been one of the few times it could make Megumi cry.

He would do anything to live the bittersweet scene he created in his head, but instead he’s stuck on the ground, bones tight and uncomfortable with the never-ending nausea and a crushing weight laying on top of him. 

Fushiguro’s breathing staggers ever so slightly every couple of breaths and he immediately takes notice of it. His lungs feel heavier, as if they were filled with an unknown thick liquid and he just can’t cough it out.

It’s either that, or just because he had been crying earlier…but he’s pretty sure that it’s unfortunately, the former. 

The weakness of his body, the frustration of the situation, mixed with the grief and hopelessness piling all on him at once threatens to put him to tears again. It’s a rare occurrence, but Megumi knows he can’t stop the tears that come from his eyes every so often and far overstay their welcome. 

He has never felt something so terrible and earth-shattering compared to this. It trumps all physical injuries, every single hardship mentally he’s ever had and every loss he’s experienced before. 

Fushiguro stares up at the limited pitcher of light coming from the never-ending ocean above him. He glances back down and closes his eyes slowly, letting his extremely tired and overwhelmed body try to rest…and maybe it can for the rest of eternity. 

Pitch black and dancing multicolored lights fill his vision while his mind wanders and mostly reminds him of the unpleasant events he’s in and thoughts he wishes he didn’t have. 

But then, he clearly hears his own voice. Something he had said a couple of weeks ago. 

‘No one can ever truly judge us…so we must continually prove the worth of our existence. And we don’t have the luxury of thinking about ourselves. We’ve just got to save people…I believe that was the original principle behind your actions…

So start by saving me, Itadori. Noritoshi Kamo has made plans for those involved with jujutsu to face off in a…Culling Game. And Tsumiki is ensnared in that. So I'm begging you, Itadori. I need your strength.’

His words were nothing particularly to be proud of, because to Fushiguro, it felt like begging and asking for help for something that seemed impossible. There was just something about being around Yuji that made him feel like the possible was suddenly an option. 

Through hearing his words again, Megumi makes a realization that he has gotten swept up in his feelings and worries, completely disregarding everything he had told Yuji.

It made him feel like a hypocrite.

Right about now, and honestly, probably sooner, Itadori would’ve taken the opportunity to remind Fushiguro of his own words with a slap on the back. 

Megumi knows that Itadori takes promises and words as seriously as anyone can, if not even more.

He knows damn well that after that conversation that day, especially with the look in Itadori’s eyes…that it was taken with the utmost importance and unfortunately for Megumi Fushiguro, Itadori Yuji had taken it to heart. 

There was no way in hell that his best friend with a heart of gold wasn’t coming to the rescue. That’s just who he is.

He’ll keep saving as many people as he can to make up for the ones he lost and to honor them. Right then and there, Megumi makes a couple of promises to himself. 

1.) He’s going to make sure that he talks to Yuji. Whether it’s an apology, or…admitting something he’s felt deep down in his heart for a long time, he would have to wait and see which one came out of his mouth first. 

2.) He will grasp onto his grief with his own two hands and hold himself accountable for the loss of his sister. Her loss would not be in vain. 

He wasn’t going to give up until then. Not yet.

‘Just hang in there a little longer’ he tells himself. It’s all he can really do, anyways. Hope and wait.

He isn’t sure what was going to await him up above, and he was most certainly not looking forward to the combustion of emotions and exhaustion that would continue to face him…but, after all, it is what living’s about.

There was nothing he or anyone in the world could do to change that…Though, sometimes, it was worth it for the small things. 

Seeing pink hair next to him, sharing earbuds with someone dear, popsicles on a hot day in the comfort of his own room, head rustles he would get from Gojo after a job well done or to just tease the boy around, the relief on a bystander’s face when he exorcized a curse among his peers, watching a movie he had no interest in but secretly just likes the fact that if he got sleepy he’d have an excuse to lay his head on a certain someone’s shoulder…the list could go on. 

But with that list came the burdens of living as a sorcerer and a human being, at that. He was more than familiar with it, and today was especially no exception. 

That being said, Megumi isn’t exactly sure how much longer he can continue to hold onto the small things in life he desperately wanted to keep experiencing deep down in the bottom of his heart. 

Whether or not this was for himself or for his peers, Fushiguro couldn’t say. He has no clue. All he knows is that this very brief spark of hope and desperation to hang onto something, anything—Is fading already. 

Breaking his train of thoughts is the feeling of the rumbling beneath him. Fushiguro opens his eyes once more to face the darkness. Faintly, Megumi hears the voice of someone he’s known for a very long time. 

He hears Gojo Satoru. 

Internally, he feels a wave of relief wash over him, even if it’s just for a moment. He’s talking, but it’s not a surprise to hear it extremely muffled. Fushiguro swears he even hears his father-figure let out a chuckle.

As just soon as he hears it, it’s gone. 

Megumi isn’t exactly sure how time passes here, there’s absolutely no way to tell. Even so, the feelings of grief and despair never waver. 

It’s been 3 days since Fushiguro had gotten sucked into this bottomless pit and it was still just as hard to hang onto that small glimpse of hope.

To be honest, he’s even surprised he can keep it up for this long.

Fushiguro’s thoughts cloud his mind once more. Admittedly and tiredly, he isn’t sure how he can possibly move forward from this point. He’s not even sure that it matters.

The boy closes his eyes once more and focuses on the cluttered and heavy breathing in his own lungs. 

‘Please, hurry. I can’t do this on my own. Please. Itadori. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.’ 

He pleads in his thoughts, hoping that they make their way to Yuji. Just as Itadori had done earlier. 

There’s no logical way to explain it, perhaps if soulmates are real, they are each other’s…and even if it’s not through words, they can feel it. Each other’s presence, even in extreme absence and loneliness. 

Their words reach each other.